Twins

By Peter Harrison

Samuel and Kieran O’Hara are brothers; the pair intelligent and strong-willed. Twins, although you would never know it. Samuel is tall and rangy with sharp, alert features. Kieran suffers from achondroplasia and has a typical dwarfs` features: he is short and dumpy with a jowly countenance and wispy, receding fair hair.
More out of luck than good judgment, Samuel inherits a smallholding in Wickford, Essex, close to the notorious Dale Farm, once the home of a gypsy stronghold. Within months he is wheeling and dealing, selling illicit booze, drugs and women to all and sundry.
Kieran, despite a cache of qualifications, finds a job as an entertainer. Not only does he find employment with a travelling circus, he finds love.
As the years pass, Samuel O’Hara slowly climbs the ladder of criminal activity. Fraud, illegal betting and kidnapping are added to his shopping basket.
Meanwhile, the naïve, luckless Kieran, agonising over his failed marriage, persuades his brother to give him shelter. Samuel reluctantly agrees and inadvertently opens a Pandora’s Box of arguments, disagreements, in-fighting and back-stabbing that results in an inevitable, horrendous conclusion.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Barny Books
• Release date: Apr 15, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311303103

Book preview

Prologue

Untie me Sam, please! cried Kieran O’Hara. The fourteen year old achondroplasia suffer wiggled and squirmed across the cold, concrete floor, his chubby fingers desperately trying to untie the huge knot that straddled his groin area. I won’t tell mum or Dad! I promise!

Samuel O’Hara, six feet tall and pencil-thin - just minutes younger than his twin - ignored his sibling. He stared around the garage. Spotting the house bricks he began to chortle with a wicked delight. Kieran, I’ve a plan that’s guaranteed to work! he said loudly. It’s the answer to all your prayers!

"Take the rope off me! shouted Kieran, kicking wildly at his brother. He scratched and plucked at the knotted folds of twine as if his life depended on it. Let me go!"

Samuel O’Hara walked to the opposite side of his parent’s garage, grabbed two hefty house-bricks and returned to his brother’s side. After a brief struggle, Sam managed to tie masking-tape around his sibling’s legs. He then strapped the bricks to his brother’s feet, one brick per foot; secure, surreal shoes. More rope was taken from a nearby shelf. One end was hooked and fastened to existing twine behind Kieran’s back, the other was looped over the inner roof beams of the garage. Grasping the dangling tail of twine, Samuel began to pull on the rope.

Slowly, surely, the helpless dwarf was hoisted into the air. Samuel tied the rope to a wall hook. The wailing, twirling Kieran O’Hara - looking like some demented victim of a makeshift hanging - shrieked for his parents.

It’s for your own good, freak! said Samuel, prodding his sibling like a rag doll. The weight of the bricks will make your legs stretch! In a couple of weeks you`ll be normal!

"Please Sam! Let me down!"

"About an hour, replied Samuel nonchalantly. I’m going shooting. He pulled keys from his jacket pocket, Look what I found in dad’s overcoat … Now I can get into the gun cupboard."

"Don’t Sam! He’ll beat you!"

What’s new midget? He’s been hitting me all of my life! said Samuel icily. He suddenly slapped the palm of his hand across his brother’s face. The echo reverberated round the garage. Kieran screamed with pain. What’s it feel like? Hurts doesn’t it? Slapped him again, harder this time, I’ve had it all my fucking life! Ignoring his brother’s cries, he said, The most you get is a telling off! Maybe sent to your room!

Samuel O’Hara turned and stomped to the door. He glanced round at the hanging, rotating figure, Relax Kieran, let those twisted stumps stretch!

Samuel stepped out of the garage and closed the door behind him.

An hour later, the knot finally unravelled, Kieran O’Hara, bruised and aching, shuffled into the house, struggled up the long stairs and entered his parent’s bedroom. The bunch of keys lay on the bureau shelf. The doors to the cupboard were open. One of the shotguns was missing. Ignoring the discomfort, the plucky, ever-loyal Kieran grabbed his coat and hurried from the house. Knew he had to find his brother before his parents returned.

It was not the fact that their home bordered farming land close to the sea that prompted Kieran to hurry to the coast. It was the high cliffs – and the terrible accident that had befallen his brother’s friends less than a year ago - that pulled him to the shoreline.

He heard Samuel before he saw him. From the beach banks Kieran watched as his brother lined up objects on an outcrop of rock close to the ocean and began taking pot-shots at them. Despite the crooked clay path that wound from the canopy to the cliff base it took Kieran an age to reach the beach.

Sam! he shouted, breathlessly hobbling towards his scowling brother. We have to get home before Dad finds out about the gun!

Samuel turned and aimed the shotgun in the direction of his sibling. His features were grim, his eyes wild. Kieran stopped in his tracks, his stubby hands held high in an act of submission.

"Go away!" shouted the younger brother.

Please Sam, don’t do that! called out Kieran. I won’t tell!

The rifle was lowered. Samuel began smiling icily. Frightened you, didn’t I?

"I know you wouldn’t shoot me, Sam," said Kieran, trying to hide his nerves.

"Who cut you loose?"

"You tied the knot close to my hands, said Kieran, approaching warily. That’s why I knew you didn’t mean to hurt me."

Out of the blue, Samuel suddenly attacked. Shrieking obscenities the younger, taller brother bundled his sibling to the ground; the shotgun used as a garrotte choking and stifling any protests. Despite fighting back, plucky Kieran was quickly overwhelmed.

"I don’t want you here, freak! screamed Samuel, his nose inches from his brother’s crimson face. He slowly eased the rifle from his brother’s throat, Leave me alone!"

Kieran gasped and struggled for breath. Tears welled from his bulging eyes as his chunky fingers pushed ineffectively at his sibling. Sam, you have to forget what happened to Cathy and John! he croaked.

"What do you know? bellowed Samuel. What does anyone know?"

"It was an accident!"

"There’s only you believes that!"

"Not true, Sam!"

"It’s been a year! People are still gossiping! I know what they’re saying about me!"

"No one is talking about you!"

"They think I killed them! whined a delirious Samuel O’Hara. He struggled to his feet, kicking sand at his brother. A surreal look etched over his young features; his eyes wild and wet. It was an accident! I didn’t mean …."

Honest Sam, shouted Kieran clambering upright, dusting himself down. I believe you!

Samuel turned away, aiming the gun at the outcrop of rock where several objects remained. One of the targets began to move.

"Crabs! bawled the taller of the twins, his mind suddenly spiralling from the past to the present. Three left!"

Out of the blue, a huge seagull swooped into view. The big white bird landed ungainly on wet sand next to the outcrop, hopped on to the sandstone and began snapping at the doomed crabs. Samuel instinctively aimed the rifle at the bird. The gun boomed. Kieran jumped with shock. The unfortunate seagull was knocked off its temporary perch, one of its wings spinning over the rock. The crippled bird struggled to its feet squawking with pain. Its attempts at becoming airborne were hopeless. It tried to fly but only managed a manic swirl across the beach. Blood-splattered feathers followed in its path.

See that Kieran! bellowed a delighted Samuel, darting after the injured bird.

Kieran struggled to his feet and watched the macabre display.

Using the shotgun as a stave the chortling youngster began to pummel the scuttling, luckless seagull. Took minutes before the bird flopped exhausted to the sands. Samuel used the butt of the gun, striking at the bloody head, smashing at its snapping beak until the bird fell silent.

"Want a trophy, Kieran?" the boy called out, waving the sodden carcase like a prize trophy.

"Going home!" Kieran replied, shaking his head. He turned and headed for the rough passageway that led to the top of the cliffs.

The dead seagull was flung into the ocean. Samuel raced after his brother. With his rage satiated, he helped Kieran towards the distant summit.

"They back yet? asked Samuel. Mum and dad?"

"Still shopping," replied Kieran, wheezing with exhaustion next to the cliff edge.

"Good."

"We’ve got time to put the gun back, said Kieran. I won’t tell, I promise."

Samuel smirked darkly at his brother. He did not reply.

The brothers left the beach, pushed their way passed lowing cows and their calves and walked across the undulating fields towards their home.

Kieran said, You’re at court tomorrow.

"I know!"

"Worried?"

"No. The headmaster pushed me and I pushed him back … If anything I was assaulted!"

"There’s witnesses, Sam!"

"I’ve had words with everyone in the class … No one would dare say a thing against me!"

"You threw a chair at Mr. Clarke."

"Self-defence!"

"He lost his front teeth."

So! snapped Samuel. I’ve convinced Dad and that’s all that matters!

The small herd of agitated cattle began to follow the two boys. Samuel, in a show of bravado, waved his gun at the nervous animals. Some of the older cows began to trot towards the youngsters. The rest of the herd, mooing and lowing, followed.

Run! shouted Kieran and lumbered towards the crest of the field as fast as his misshapen legs could carry him.

Samuel turned and faced the excited animals. He calmly raised the shotgun and aimed it at the nearest cow. The explosion echoed over the field scattering the herd. The unfortunate creature buckled and fell as the impact blew away part of its face. Snorting and coughing blood and gore, the cow tried valiantly to get to its feet. It was hopeless. The wound was grave. It stumbled forward, whining feebly as its life slipped away. Samuel ran towards the fallen beast and without a moment’s hesitation, placed the barrel of the gun between the cow’s eyes and pressed the trigger.

The sound of an engine suddenly boomed over the area. From the brow of the hillock a solitary tractor chugged into view; the driver shrieking and gesticulating wildly.

"Run Sam! screamed Kieran, dancing on the spot. Run!"

Samuel bolted. Ran so fast he soon outpaced his hobbling sibling. Fled the crime scene, abandoning Kieran to face the wrath of a hysterical Charlie Farn. Poor Kieran had little chance of escaping. He was grabbed, hoisted aloft and threatened by the demented farmer. Plucky Kieran O’Hara refused to name his brother. He was placed in the cab of the tractor and driven through the streets to the local police station. When Police Constable Brad Dooley saw the tearful suspect he knew immediately who the prime suspect was. The incensed farmer was dissuaded from taking the law into his own hands and sent on his way. The panicky Kieran was led to the small interview room. The one-sided conversation lasted minutes before Kieran O’Hara spilled the beans on his brother.

A month later, standing either side of his long-suffering parents, young Samuel listened impassively as his father, Patrick O’Hara, explained to Edwin Bryce - the owner of a thriving garden centre and part-time Justice of the Peace - that his son was suffering from prolonged depression. When prompted by the Bench to explain the reasons why Samuel had mental health issues, Patrick O’Hara glanced awkwardly at his gawking son, sighed loudly and began to explain.

"It was a year ago, said Patrick O’Hara, his voice a whisper. My son was with two of his best friends; John Brymer and Cathleen Pugh … Classmates … I know both of their parents."

From the gallery someone began to whimper. The entire courtroom went silent. All eyes fell on the sobbing, inconsolable youngster, Samuel O’Hara. Rebecca, his mother, held him in her arms, soothing him, trying to calm her heartbroken son. Sitting on the other side of his parent sat the morose, staring figure of Kieran O’Hara. The boy’s cries grew louder, more agonised. Rebecca O’Hara could take no more. She stood and, still holding her son, hurried from the courtroom. The diminutive Kieran followed silently.

Moments passed. The whispering stopped. Edwin Bryce, J. P. motioned for the man to continue.

"There was a terrible accident, said Patrick O’Hara. The three were playing on the beach-banks. John slipped, over-balanced and fell …."

From the cliff-edge? interrupted Edwin Bryce.

Yes, continued Patrick O’Hara sullenly. Took a deep breath, his eyes lowered. John rolled about ten feet. He was clinging to an outcrop of rock just out of arm’s reach. Samuel attempted to find a safer way down the cliff. Then everything went wrong. As my son crept down a gentler slope parallel to where John lay trapped, he slipped, caught his foot in a pothole and broke his ankle. Took him ages to clamber back to the cliff top. That’s when he saw Cathy reach for John. She lost her balance and fell on to him.

"Goodness me!"

"My son saw it all!"

Edwin Bryce shook his head, his features stiff and sombre.

"John hit rocks and suffered massive injuries, continued Patrick O’Hara. He had no chance. Cathy fell on to the pebbled beech. The drop was huge. She never regained consciousness. Died three days later."

The courtroom was like a morgue. No one moved. No one spoke. No one breathed. As one, the audience were riveted. Aghast.

"My son still has nightmares," said Patrick O’Hara morosely.

"Have you thought of professional help for the boy?" said the official, his tone soft. Caring.

Patrick O’Hara shook his head sadly, Samuel refuses to see anyone, he replied.

Edwin Bryce began conferring with people either side of him. Hushed, anxious conversation echoed through the courtroom as the officials conferred with one another about the errant youngster, Samuel O’Hara. Minutes passed and still the three figures talked in hushed tones.

"Mr. Bryce," said Patrick O’Hara, interrupting the conversation.

The J.P. glanced at the man, nodding deferentially.

"About the incident with the cattle," said the father.

"Yes?"

"It was an accident."

"Your son told you that?"

"Samuel told me he was aiming the shotgun at a wood-pigeon, replied Patrick O’Hara, nodding. The bird suddenly changed direction, dipped and flew in front of the herd. The shooting of the cow was unintentional … entirely accidental."

Yes, replied the J.P. musing, recalling that the unfortunate bird had been shot twice. Refresh my memory, Mr. O’Hara. The rifle was taken from a locked cupboard?

Patrick nodded apprehensively, the earlier police barracking still fresh on his mind.

"How did the boy obtain the keys?" asked Bryce.

"My fault, said the father nervously. He continued with the lie. I carry them with me always. But on that day my wife and I went shopping. She drove the car … She has her own key. I changed coats and left my keys on the bureau."

Smiling weakly, Edwin Bryce leaned to his left and listened as probationary J. P., Violet Carter, offered advice, There’s also the incident with the Headmaster, Peter Clarke … He was assaulted.

Ronald Stevens, sitting on the right of Edwin Bryce, leaned forward, nudging the aged J.P., The teacher is still on the sick. Rumour is that he won’t be wearing the hat and gown again!

Lost his teeth in the attack" hissed Violet Carter, nodding agreeably.

"And now we know why! said Edwin Bryce, sucking in air like a whale. The lad needs psychiatric help!"

"I agree!" said Violet Carter, anxious to keep on the good side of the senior official.

You’re right, Edwin, agreed Ronald Stevens, not wanting to upset the apple-cart. Help is needed.

Young Samuel O’Hara was given probation for two years.

Despite the weekly attendance with probationary officers, Samuel O’Hara’s attitude did not improve. If anything it deteriorated. When he did attend sessions he was arrogant and occasionally rude to the probation officer. After one particularly frustrating session with the teenager, the middle-aged officer chastised Samuel. He was immediately assaulted. Police were called and the lad was arrested.

Weeks later, after numerous consultations between the boy’s parents and the appropriate authorities, it was finally agreed - despite protestations from the boy - to call on the expertise of a psychiatrist.

It was discovered the teenager was bi-polar. Therapy, together with long-term medication, was recommended.

Nothing worked.

Chapter One

Twelve months had passed since Mandy Reece met Samuel O’Hara and fell in love with the tall, brooding loner. Never in her nineteen years had she met anyone as charismatic as Samuel. He was different from any other person she knew. Of course he wanted her. His eyes had teased and tantalised her when they first bumped into each other in the quaint pub close to Durham town centre. But it was more than that for Mandy. Samuel was different. He was driven, focussed, and so different from others she had dated in the past. Knew what he wanted and would not stop until he had achieved his goal.

Samuel had worked for Caterpillar in Peterlee. He told Mandy when global sales in the truck company began to slide it decided to cut its workforce. Asked employees to take redundancy. Samuel O’Hara jumped at the chance to try pastures new. He had seen a ramshackle smallholding for sale a mile north-west of the town. Highdown Farm comprised thirty acres of grass and scrub and was situated midway between Haswell and Easington. The excited thirty-something told Mandy Reece he was going to follow his dream and become a farmer. The redundancy package would cover half of the mortgage. Earnings from the enterprise, according to Samuel, would balance the books.

Mandy believed his every word. She was mesmerised and, despite deep misgivings from her mother, she moved in with Samuel. The pair shared a large, ancient caravan in the grounds of the decrepit smallholding and began re-building the farmhouse. Within a short time however the reality of the task began to hit the couple hard. Mandy began to wilt under the pressure. Her rose-coloured glasses began to frost over as month followed dreary month with little change to her miserable life.

The renovations to the farmhouse had been put on hold due to lack of funds. The future of Highdown was still on the drawing-board as Samuel’s plans faltered as he struggled between options for the smallholding. He had visited neighbouring farmers hoping to gain insight into what would best suit the enterprise. Asked the right questions; should he try animal husbandry or should his meagre acres be used for crop growing? He was given short shrift from the would-be competitors.

Samuel O’Hara plumped for livestock. Visited Darlington Mart and gagged at the prices sellers demanded for cows, sheep and pigs. Spent the following day in a deep depression, mooching and moaning before suddenly kicking aside the self-pity and declaring he would commence a life of crime in order to achieve his goal. Samuel would take his horse-wagon out of the area and steal the animals he needed to set up his business.

Mandy reluctantly agreed to his plans and the following day the couple reconnoitred the North East searching for booty. Spent a small fortune driving the petrol-guzzling horse-wagon to Stanhope in West Durham, Rothbury in Northumberland and Richmond in North Yorkshire. Samuel O’Hara’s crime spree procured him three under-fed ponies, a llama plus its week-old foal and a three legged, ill-tempered donkey.

Depression returned to Highdown Farm ….

Rain bounced loudly off the aluminium caravan. As Mandy struggled with the meal, Samuel stared sourly over the bleak, deserted landscape of flattened grass dispersed with the occasional bald patches of soil and shrubbery. Sadness permeated the tin shack. There was little conversation.

It was Mandy who observed the solitary car winding its way towards the farm. She recognised the Four Track. It’s your brother, Kieran, she said. I thought he was in Blackpool?

Maybe the circus is on the move, said Samuel.

It’s the first time anyone from your family has visited us, said Mandy, glancing around the threadbare interior of the caravan. I wish he’d waited until we’d moved into the farmhouse.

I’ll get rid of him.

Don’t be like that Sam. We’ll share lunch with him.

Maybe next time.

He’s your brother! Christ! exclaimed Mandy, pulling a face. He’s lovely!

I’m not in the mood for company.

You should be close to him, he’s blood!

Samuel hesitated momentarily before saying, We get along fine these days.

Mandy used the palm of her hand to wipe the condensation from the big window, Fool me, Sam. The way I see it you two have never been the best of friends.

Samuel was on his feet and reaching for his coat, Sure we have! he said stoutly. When we were kids we were always together.

So what happened?

Can’t you guess? We were okay before school … When I started to sprout Kieran didn’t like being the size of a permanent six-year old. He started staying indoors so I found new friends.

Understandable, said Mandy. He must have had some abuse over the years.

Not when I was around!

You stopped the bullying?

When it was necessary.

I don’t understand … Necessary?

Kieran can be fiery tempered.

You never told me.

Hey, we were like peas in a pod! Samuel took a deep breath, reminiscing. Once.

So what happened?

Another time, eh? said Samuel, pulling on a jacket, He’ll be knocking at the door any minute.

Something’s got Kieran’s attention. He’s parked his motor half way along the drive, said Mandy gesturing at the window. She glanced at Samuel, smiling hopefully, So tell me why you drifted apart?

If you had half a brain you’d understand! replied Samuel snappily. He fastened his jacket, buttoning it slowly, purposefully. Took a deep breath, The old folks started to see Kieran in a different light. My opinion, it was a guilty conscience. They had two sons - twins - and one turned out to be a freak. They couldn’t get their heads around it. Mum and Dad started to treat us differently … He got the chocolate bars, said Samuel reflectively, I got the biscuits.

You can remember those days?

Like it was yesterday!

Mandy shook her head, pondering.

We’re a lot better now, said Samuel, smirking. Especially since the chip fell off his shoulders!

Stop it Sam!

Mandy Reece stepped to the caravan door and opened it wide, allowing Samuel to squeeze passed. She focussed on the approaching Four-Track, wondering if Kieran was alone. A swirling damp mist made it difficult to see. She offered a token wave as the big vehicle entered the yard. Mandy closed the door of the caravan and went back to the cooking.

Samuel forced a smile when his brother’s specially adapted Range Rover pulled up next to him. The vehicle’s rain-splattered window was operated. Kieran’s enormous, balding, jowly features appeared. He returned the smile.

Sam! said Kieran. You okay?

Does it look like it?

Lovely greeting!

It’s one of those day, bro, replied Samuel, shrugging his shoulders.

Noticed the livestock in the field, said Kieran diplomatically, his bulbous eyes scanning the immediate area. Darlington Mart?

Don’t act the fool, Kieran!

I was being serious.

A three-legged donkey! A bloody llama and its kid ….

Sam, said Kieran, interrupting. I saw a few animals through the mist … I thought you’d done some haggling!

I’m busy, replied Samuel, clearly ruffled.

Mum sends her love.

Sure she does … That’s why she never visits.

Hasn’t much time for anyone since Dad had the stroke.

Samuel did not reply. He glanced back at the caravan, his features sullen. Rain bounced loudly off the aluminium home.

It’s not convenient Kieran, he said, wiping wetness from his hair.

Mandy?

Samuel grimaced, his conscience suddenly bothering him. Wondered if he should share his problems with his shrewd, sensible brother.

Want to talk about it? asked Kieran.

Nodding resignedly Samuel clambered into the vehicle. Thinking I made a mistake buying the farm, he said.

Regret leaving Caterpillar?

It was take redundancy or be sacked.

You should have been a better time-keeper.

I was a single guy. Enjoyed myself …. Monday’s were always difficult for me.

Kieran nodded sympathetically. He waited; subtlety his forte.

I took the odd piece of stock from the factory, said Samuel, continuing. His eyes began to sparkle mischievously. I was unlucky. I got caught.

Kieran was distracted. A shadowy figure appeared at the caravan window. It was Mandy Reece. She wiped away condensation, staring at the pair before disappearing.