It’s the sort of article you read in the tabloids or the rabbit hole you fall into when you are tempted to scroll down on the internet. There was a boy at junior school who always had ghoulish ‘true stories’ to tell. I was never sure whether to believe him, but we wanted to and it was a bit dull in class after he moved away.

When I became a sardonic teenager I realised how ridiculous his tales had been, though I would have given him credit for his imagination if we ever met again.

As I turned into a sensible adult a strange thing happened; television documentaries, tiny cameras in operating theatres and Wikipedia provided real true stories. It turned out that there were girls with two heads and boys with four legs. The stuffed two headed lamb we saw in a glass case at the ‘House of Horrors’ on holiday had nothing on real two headed people who talked on television and went to school. Yes, real life could be truly bizarre and nature played jokes.

When I started getting mystery pains, or rather when I could no longer ignore mystery pains and the strange lump I could feel, I went to the doctor. An appointment came through for my scan, can’t remember which machine it was, but it made lots of noise and I did not like being in it. Of course the operator is not allowed to tell you anything and just mumbled something about a report going to my GP. I was just glad to get dressed and get out of there down to the hospital Costa Coffee. I was beginning to relax with my strong coffee and a lemon tart poised towards my mouth when my mobile rang.

‘This is Doctor Jekyll, are you still in the hospital grounds? Good. Have you eaten anything in the past couple of hours?’

Puzzled I put my lemon tart down.

‘Good, now there’s nothing to worry about, but I would like to examine you and possibly do an exploratory operation. As soon as possible. Now. No you don’t need to know where to go, I’m sending someone down to fetch you.’

I didn’t even get a chance to finish my coffee before someone in a uniform appeared and guided me into the depths of the hospital. It was not long before I was undressed and lying on a couch, being prodded and monitors applied. One good thing, I knew I was in good health, heart and everything working properly and fit for surgery. I was just about to ask when the operation was going to take place when the next thing I knew I was waking up in the recovery room with all sorts of tubes attached to me.

Doctor Jekyll was at my side promptly.

‘The good news is, it was not a malignant tumour. The bad news, it was a very complicated operation and the surgery was invasive.’

‘I don’t understand, what did you find?’

‘A baby.’

This would be a shock for most people. It was certainly a shock for me as I am a man.

‘How on earth…are you trying to tell me I’m a hermaphrodite?’

‘We don’t use that term these days, but you are not. Now you have heard of conjoined twins? Yes of course, but have you heard of parasitic twins? So you have seen old drawings and photos of people with partially formed bodies appended to themselves on Beetleypete’s blog… who or what is that? No I’m not a blogger, never heard of WordPress. Now I need you to pay attention. Your parasitic twin just happened to be completely inside you, very unusual and it… he seems to have been having a development spurt, otherwise you would not have noticed.’

‘This is a bit hard to take in, but at least I’m rid of it. How soon can I go home, I’m feeling okay.’

‘That’s all the pain killers, you have had a very serious operation and you will be monitored in intensive care. But we also have an ethical problem. We managed to save the baby.’

‘WHAT! Um what are you going to do with it?’

‘Him… well at the moment he is still attached to you by his, for want of a better word, his umbilical cord. Now do you want to see him before we discuss how to proceed? ‘

I thought of that boy at school, he would have wanted me to look, ready to relate the story to anyone who would listen. Somehow my schoolboy morbid curiosity took over and as instructed by the doctor I turned my head to the other side of the bed and there in an incubator was my baby brother. Or more accurately, if you put a pair of glasses on him he would be an exact miniature replica of me.