Strange Sally Diamond(83)

We looked at the envelope together. It was thicker than the others. I wondered if we should call the police first, but neither of us could wait. Mark had brought some surgical gloves with him from the factory. He opened the envelope carefully and I pulled the letter out. A small box came out with the letter as well as another larger box, which was labelled DNA ACTIVATION KIT.

Dear Mary,

My birth name is Peter Geary, and although my birth was never registered in Ireland, or anywhere, I was born there. My mother was Denise Norton and my father was Conor Geary. I am your brother. I was born seven years before you in a house in Killiney. Our father took me away from Denise as soon as I was toilet-trained. I was not allowed to see her, or you, even though my bedroom was next door to yours in an annexe our father built.

I was allowed to enter the other parts of the house as I got older. You and our mother were kept under lock and key. In the early years, I never saw another human except for on the pages of his newspapers and, later, on television.

I have no recollection of meeting my mother until I was seven years old, when I spent a terrifying weekend in that room with her. I realize now that she had been terribly mistreated and brutalized. She was heavily pregnant with you and was frightening to me. I won’t go into detail here as I don’t want to upset you. I know that you were born the day after I left the room and I didn’t see you again, except once, on the day my father escaped, taking me with him. Do you remember? You must have been five years old.

I do not understand why nobody was looking for me. I know you and I were separated, but I believe that my mother missed me, at least until you were born. Did she simply forget about me?

In London, our father arranged to get us fake passports and we moved to New Zealand. My life there has been difficult. I was homeschooled and, even after that, he continued to keep me isolated for a long time. The good news for both of us is that he died many years ago. He is no longer a threat to either of us.

And yet, I do not feel free of him. My life has been blighted and destroyed. It is only because of the age of the internet that I was able to get any information about you or him, or my mother. I finally learned that my mother was dead. After you hit the headlines when you disposed of your adoptive father’s remains two years ago, I began to investigate what happened to you and where you had been. Previous reports gave the impression that you had been adopted in England.

When the newspapers subsequently confirmed that you had not murdered Dr Diamond, and that you were ‘different’, I realized that you were probably like me. That’s why I sent Toby to you. I thought he might bring you some comfort at such a difficult time.

It didn’t cross my mind when I sent you the teddy bear that it would lead to a police hunt for our father in New Zealand. I didn’t think it through at all, but obviously you must have thought that he had sent it to you to torment you. The police tracked me down and questioned me, but I lied and denied everything. I was a coward. I am so sorry, but I did not want to be dragged into a public scandal. I showed the police Dad’s fake passport. I guess they didn’t investigate that too much, because they didn’t come around again. And anyway, they weren’t looking for a man with a son. I don’t understand that. They didn’t seem to be aware that our father had a son?

This year, I realized that you would probably not know your date of birth so I sent you the birthday card, but I did not know how or if I should reveal myself to you. I hope that my existence is merely a surprise rather than a shock. Or perhaps you have always known about me?

The main reason I am contacting you is because I have nobody in my life. I have never had a friend or a colleague, but now I find a sister who might understand me. Do you think that is possible?

I am currently in Dublin in a hotel. I bought a pay-as-you-go mobile phone and even though I am not used to talking on the phone, I will make an effort if you would like to talk to me.

The only thing I beg of you is not to alert the media or the police. I cannot stand for people to look at me, I am noise-averse and I hate fuss and attention. As it seems that nobody knows I exist, I would like to keep it that way. I therefore include my saliva sample and a DNA test kit which you may use to confirm that I am who I say I am. You may send off the kit and wait for the results before calling me. I promise I will not come to your village unless I’m invited.

I will understand if you do not want to call me at all. I have taken three months’ leave of absence from my job as Head of Cyber Security at Aotearoa National Bank. I have a return ticket to New Zealand and can only stay here for a maximum of ninety days. If things don’t work out, or if you don’t want to see me, I can go back and continue to live my life in isolation. I guess it’s not so bad when you’re as used to it as I am.

Steven Armstrong

086 5559225



‘Wow,’ said Mark and, unconsciously, I began to pull at my hair. Mark knew me well enough to steer me towards the piano. My hands, on autopilot, found Bach’s Partita Number 2 in C Minor.

‘Tea or wine?’ said Mark.

‘Tea,’ I said. Tina had advised that turning to alcohol in times of stress was not a good idea.

As soon as I took my fingers off the keyboard, they trembled, until Mark pushed the hot mug into them.

‘Wow,’ he said again. ‘Should we call the police?’

‘No,’ I said. ‘I have a brother.’

‘We don’t know that yet. He could be anyone, chancing his arm,’ said Mark.