Do or Die Read online

  This edition published in 2011 by

  Y Books

  Luc an, Co. Dublin, Ireland

  Tel /fax: +353 1 6217992

  [email protected]

  www.ybooks.ie

  Text © 2011 Rita Harling

  Editing, design and layout © 2011 Y Books

  Paperback ISBN: 978-1-908023-12-4

  Ebook — Mobi format ISBN: 978-1-908023-13-1

  Ebook — epub format ISBN: 978-1-908023-14-8

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or utilised in any form or by any means electronic or mechanical including photocopying, filming, recording, video recording photography, or by any information storage and retrieval system, nor shall by way of trade or otherwise be lent, resold or otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published without prior permission in writing from the publisher

  The publishers have made every reasonable effort to contact the copyright holders of photographs reproduced in this book. If any involuntary infringement of copyright has occurred, sincere apologies are offered and the owner of such copyright is requested to contact the publisher.

  A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

  Publisher’s note. Some names have been changed to protect the identities of individuals.

  10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  Typeset by Y Books

  Cover design by Graham Thew Design

  Front cover images courtesy of iStock

  Back cover photo courtesy of Peter Evers Photography

  Printed and bound by Cox & Wyman, Reading, England

  Dedication

  I am dedicating this book to the memory of another

  mum of two who found herself in a similar situation to

  mine.

  To Baiba Saulite, whose life ended too soon.

  May she rest in peace.

  Also to the memory of my dear parents,

  Bridget and Nicholas Harling

  Acknowledgements

  I would like to thank three people that have made the publication of this book possible. Without their professionalism I could not have done it. Thank you to Chenile Keogh, Managing Director and Publisher of Y Books, who has had faith in me from the very beginning and has also given unending encouragement. To Robert Doran, Publishing Manager of Y Books for his positive attitude and direction. I would also like to say a huge thank you to my editor, Sine Quinn, for her patience and guidance — your help is greatly appreciated. I have enjoyed working with all of you and I wish you every success in your future projects. Thank you all for helping me realise my dream and for helping me to move away from the past towards a brighter future.

  Thank you to my sister, Mary, and my brother, Joe, for their great support. Thank you also to my nieces, Hazel and Emma, and my nephew, David.

  Thank you to my children, Robyn and Conor. Without them in my life, I do not think that I could have carried on.

  A special thanks to Tony for his love, support and understanding.

  A big thank you to the many friends who stood by me and never judged me.

  Table Of Contents

  Introduction

  Chapter one: Happier Times

  Chapter two: The Beginning

  Chapter three: The End of the Affair

  Chapter four. The Sunday Drive

  Chapter five: The Tony Soprano of Finglas

  Chapter six. Educating Rita

  Chapter seven: Life Without Brian

  Chapter eight. The Truth

  Chapter nine: The Trial

  Chapter ten: Putting the Past to Rights

  Chapter eleven: Life Goes On

  Epilogue: Raising Awareness

  Appendix: Further information

  Introduction

  Today I watched a father grasp his son’s hand as the child took what seemed to be his first steps. The child must have been about a year old. I sat in the car and watched as I waited for my son Conor to come out of school. The touching scene brought me back to my younger years and made me think about the short time that I had spent with my own father, who I had loved so dearly. How I have wished that my father was still a part of my life today. If he was still around maybe everything would have turned out differently. Maybe I would have gained from his wisdom and unconditional love. Sadly my dad passed away when I was just ten years old; heart disease was a main contributor to his death. I have always missed him and have probably spent most of my adult life in search of him. I have had my regrets, but then who doesn’t? However, I do have one serious regret, and that is to have ever laid eyes on Brian Kenny on that faithful day on which we met in 1995. I can honestly say that he ruined my life and the lives of many other people who fell victim to his ruthless, evil and twisted mind.

  In October 2008 crime writer Paul Williams’ book Crime Wars was published. The book was a compilation of stories told by victims of organised crime in Dublin, Limerick and various cities in Europe. I was aware of the book’s publication, but I did not rush out to buy it. Although I was suspicious that the past would never remain quiet and I was aware that something was bound to remind me of the horrific nightmare that was once my life, I didn’t expect the book to unearth the horrid memories that I had so badly tried to bury and forget. At the time I was focused on trying to continue with my life and raise my kids out of harm’s way. I will never forget the feeling of nausea I felt when my eighteen-year-old daughter came home and broke the news that my name had been published in Paul Williams’ latest book. I had been successfully trying to move on with my life and not give Brian Kenny any more thought or energy. I had moved on for my children’s sake and for the sake of my own sanity.

  I was in shock: no one had contacted me to inform me that my name would be printed or to request my permission. I don’t think anyone really knew how I felt about this. I do not believe that the author really cared, especially since he would not be the one who would be afraid to go to work. He wouldn’t feel humiliated that his past was printed and that his private life was in the public domain. Although I believe it is right for the truth to be told, some people pay a higher price than others.

  I did not go back to work after the book was published, and I began to worry about my future. I had worked in the travel industry for the previous ten years, and I had loved every minute of my career. I had been working for a major airline for the previous four years, as a reservations agent. I enjoyed working with the people there, and always kept my past firmly in the past in an effort to protect my kids’ futures. I kept a roof over our heads and food on the table. I couldn’t go to work that week because I felt that the office would be filled with Chinese whispers. The thought of everyone in work knowing that I was Brian Kenny’s partner made me sick. I couldn’t face any more humiliation. I was humiliated when I was with Brian Kenny and then I was humiliated by being associated with him — even if it was over ten years ago. To this day even the very mention of his name makes me want to vomit.

  I have tried to maintain my privacy. I have hidden the truth from people who I have met and worked with. I have rarely opened up and have not spoken about the experiences that I suffered living at the mercy of Brian Kenny. I was ashamed. I was ashamed of what people would think of me, of the assumptions they would make — guilty by association, as they say ...

  2008 was a bad year for me. As well as dealing with the release of the book, I was grieving for my mother. My mam passed away that December. She was a brave woman and was not afraid to stand up to Brian. His threats to her in the past did not faze her. Throughout my ordeal, she stood strong beside me. How I miss her.

  It is because of these events that I now feel that I want to tell my story. Although I know that it ‘will not change the past hurt that
I endured, I hope it might help someone in a similar situation to mine — someone who feels scared and vulnerable and is not sure how to escape a difficult and frightening situation.

  Chapter one

  HAPPIER TIMES

  Before I met Brian Kenny, I had a relatively colourful, safe and moderate life. I was happy growing up. My mam did her utmost for us. When I look back and think of the happy memories I had, it is hard to understand how things turned out the way they did.

  It was Christmas 1976 and our father had passed away that May. That year Mam bought my brother Joe and me new bicycles, both of them Eskas. Joe’s was gold and mine was bright red. We were delighted to see our new bikes. We would never have considered at the time where the money came from; we were too young. Mam had in fact taken out a Credit Union loan. It was Dad’s last request before he died that we would get new bikes, as he had been so protective of us and we had not been allowed to have them. It was a request that Mam saw through. I remember Joe and I hauling the bikes upstairs on Christmas Eve, just so we could wake up to see them on Christmas morning. It was probably about five in the morning when we woke up and tried to get the bikes back down the stairs. Joe was the bossy one. He wanted his downstairs first. I don’t know where he thought he was going at five in the morning. Joe straddled the bike at the top of the stairs and I held on to the carrier as he tried to guide it down the stairs while holding on to the banister. He protested, telling me that I was holding him back. He told me to let go, which I did. With that Joe went down the stairs like a rocket, crashing into the glass table at the bottom of the stairs. Mam was awoken by all the drama and the mess was soon cleaned up. I still laugh about that today — the sight of Joe cycling out of control down the stairs. It was so funny.

  Dad was very protective of us. He always made sure that we were held correctly as babies, making sure that the sun was not in our eyes. He did not like letting us out to play in the snow for fear of us getting colds. Although I remember on one occasion we made a huge snowman in the front garden with him. He was such a loving father. He was a hard worker. He worked on the CIE road freight. He would deliver cargo to every county in Ireland, north and south. He believed that weekends were our mother’s break time. So, he always took us out for the day on Saturdays. We either went to the cinema or the zoo, and always to mass in the Pro-cathedral Church in the city centre. I also remember spending some afternoons in an Irish-speaking pub in town. I still have the shiny gold purse that he bought me in Hector Grey’s one year. I always put it on the Christmas tree. If it was summertime we would spend our time on Portmarnock beach. I remember the three of us digging holes in the sand. Dad would bury bottles of Fanta Lemon in the moist sand to keep them cool while we went swimming. We could never find the bottles of Fanta when we came back from our dip.

  Our Dad was a brilliant swimmer. If you took your eyes off him for a second as he swam, you would not be able to find him again until his head popped up above the water at the other end of the beach. He was like a fish. I loved those days and the time that we spent with our father.

  I can still nearly taste the Pink Elephant ice lollies that he would buy us on the way home. The odd weekend that we did not spend with him because of bad weather or because his work shifts changed, he never forgot us. He would arrive home with bags of Double Centre sweets and a half dozen bottles of Snowballs. We were allowed to share one, the rest were Mam’s. I also remember him waking us up when he got home from work late. He always had something for us that the other kids on the road didn’t have, like giant bubble gums or different types of sweets. Dad loved to try new things and new foods. I remember having spaghetti bolognese as a child and I also remember eating caviar. I loved caviar so much that I used to sneak into the kitchen and pick from the small jars that were in the fridge. I loved it, but I never understood what it was. If I was given it today there isn’t a hope that I would eat it.

  It is amazing what we take for granted today. I remember my mam ripening green bananas on the jacket-lagged boiler. Different fruits were a rarity thirty years ago. People forget things like that. They take things for granted nowadays. When we didn’t know what existed out there we didn’t need it.

  We always holidayed in Wexford or in the UK. After our father’s death, Mam always brought us away to Butlin’s holiday camps. Every year we went to either Clacton-on-Sea in Essex or Pwehelli in Wales. Even with our father absent, we still had great childhoods. As there was only a year between Joe and me, we got on well most of the time. We could pal around together trying out most of the activities that the camp had to offer. I remember Joe winning the donkey derby one year; the prize was a free week at one of their sister camps, which Mam availed of the following year. I fell off my donkey as the bridle was not on right and no one noticed until I was half way around the racecourse and desperately trying to hold on. I was disgusted but Joe loved to jeer me over it later, boasting about winning his rosette and cup. Mam made sure that we had a holiday each year and she always thanked God for the Credit Union.

  My sister Mary, who was a few years older than us, was married to David. They had married young and had two beautiful children at that stage, Hazel and D (David Jnr). Their third child, Emma, was born a number of years later. Every year the seven of us would travel to Butlin’s. We loved it. Mam always took part in the glamorous grandmother competitions — she came second one year. David and David Jnr won the father and son competition. Mam won the Miss Personality competition. It was funny when they made her run around to the theme music from The Benny Hill Show. I will always have wonderful memories of those times.

  Chapter Two

  THE BEGINNING

  Brian Kenny was very charming when we met. He knew exactly how to gain my trust and friendship. He was also good to my daughter, which for me as a single parent was extremely important. I didn’t know then that beneath this charming exterior lurked an evil and twisted sociopath. I am lucky that I am still here today. I’m lucky that I found my inner strength and escaped with my life. In every situation, however traumatic and terrifying, there is a way out, but it must be planned carefully. So many women have been murdered by their partners. So many women remain in violent relationships because they are afraid to leave. I understand exactly what that feels like. These manipulative brutes make it so hard for their victims; they threaten their children and their family members. It’s more difficult because you have witnessed first-hand his capability of carrying through the threats and you stay in order to protect your family from the things he says he will do to them. Against your better judgement, you stay so that your family remains safe.

  I carried on living with Brian Kenny for that reason, because of the threats that he made concerning my family members. He threatened to burn my mam’s house to the ground while she slept. I had witnessed his sick mind in action, his cruel words, his powerful punches and his sheer disrespect for life. He was capable of following his threats through. I knew that, and time proved it when both Brian and Thomas Hinchon were convicted of the murder of Jonathan O’Reilly, who died on 17 April 2004. On 5 July 2005 Mr Justice Peart sentenced Brian Kenny and Thomas Hinchon to life for the murder.

  Over time, Brian Kenny masterminded his little empire and eventually lost all reason, and as a result he is now serving time behind bars. After all the hurt that he had caused my family, he had finally made his own destiny: Mountjoy Prison.

  I first met Brian back in 1995. We had crossed paths on a few occasions while out with friends in Dublin’s city centre. Though we knew each other to see, we never spoke to one another and I was not interested in him. I later learned that his grandmother lived around the corner from my mam’s house. I knew his grandmother quite well and she was well respected in the community. I remember passing her house one day with my friend Martina; Brian was at her door. He shouted over and waved, I did not recognise him then and I asked Martina who he was. She told me that he had lived with his grandmother for a short period, as he had fallen out with his father.
I had never seen him around the area before, and I never made the connection between him and the guy that we had met in town, until Martina told me who he was.

  Months passed and I worked away as usual, plodding through life with relative ease. At that time I was happy, though at times it was hard work juggling parenting and a job. I worked at the Esso garage on the Finglas Road, beside Glasnevin Cemetery. I had worked there before the birth of my daughter Robyn. When Robyn was born I stopped working so I could mind her. At the time, I was living in a flat in Ballymun with her dad. We were happy for a while but then the relationship broke down. After things hadn’t been going well for a while, we separated amicably. We had both played a part in the break-up of the relationship. Robyn’s dad was not a bad man. He had never raised his voice nor laid a hand on me. I had found it hard to settle down and commit as I had been such a free spirit before. I was feeling trapped, and I believe that I may have been suffering from a mild form of post-natal depression. The relationship just was not working.

  I went back to work in the Esso garage and continued to enjoy working there. After being away from home for a while and finding my independence, I decided that I would not go back and live with my mam. I decided to get a flat for myself and Robyn. We moved into a flat on Balbutcher Lane in Ballymun. It was on the same street as the flat that I had shared with Robyn’s dad. Though it was hard being a working single parent, Robyn and I were happy and I enjoyed the time we had together. She was still seeing her father regularly before he moved to Europe. My mam helped me as much as she could, and my sister and her daughters also minded Robyn a lot. It was a long distance to commute every day. I would often have to get the bus to Finglas Village and walk the rest of the way up McKee Avenue to get to mam’s, and then leave Robyn with her and get another bus to work.