Former hostage Brian Keenan tells CHRIS TITLEY how his first novel was inspired by an imaginary companion who shared his cell.

FOR four-and-a-half years, Brian Keenan disappeared. Yet his face was ever-present, staring out at us from newspapers and TV news bulletins relaying the latest efforts to free him and the other Beirut hostages.

By the time of his release Keenan, the former university teacher from Belfast, had become world famous.

It was a celebrity that this intense, quietly-spoken man at Borders in York, never sought.

On one level he does not like to talk about those years, but on another, he cannot escape from doing just that.

In York, Keenan revealed he remains in touch with his fellow hostages, John McCarthy, Terry Anderson and Terry Waite.

"I haven't seen Terry Waite since John McCarthy's wedding. I saw John a few weeks ago in Ireland for my 50th birthday.

"I see John and Terry Anderson the most."

They have a special bond, he says.

"It probably is because the relationship was formed in fire.

"I suppose being founder members of the most exclusive club in the world you tend to stay friends - because nobody else wants to join that club!" His face breaks into a rare smile.

They tend not to discuss their Beirut experiences.

"We really don't talk about it. I don't even think about it.

"I think of it as part of my history. It's over. It's passed. It is ten years ago. I don't feel the need to talk about it."

But Keenan has felt moved to write about his experiences, in An Evil Cradling. His two other books can also be traced to that time: Between Extremes, a travel book co-written with McCarthy, and his first novel, Turlough.

During long periods spent in isolation, Keenan was constantly visited in his mind by Turlough O'Carolan, Ireland's national musician.

O'Carolan helped Keenan survive. And Keenan pledged to write a book about him if he were ever released. That promise has now been kept.

O'Carolan seems an odd choice of companion: a blind, 17th century harpist, whose music is still played by The Chieftans.

Why him?

"I really don't know," says Keenan. "All I know of the man is that he was blind, played harp and lived in Ireland several centuries ago.

"Beyond that I don't know a thing.

"The only way I could rationalise it is by saying I was probably the best receptacle for him to pour his story into.

"Something comes into your head, out of the blue. If you like, you take it hostage.

"You need something to focus your mind on.

"You need something to stimulate your mind when you spend long, long periods in isolation and in darkness.

"In a very real sense, because you are constantly thinking about this, you are pushing walls back. The person becomes very real."

The way he describes it, it seems like a spiritual experience.

"I am not religious. I don't rationalise it. I don't ask questions about where these things come from.

"If you try to question them, you would lose them. You have to take what's given."

Little was known about Turlough. Keenan has fleshed him out, human frailties and all, in his novel. It was, he admits, a struggle.

"I found this book very difficult to write. I write very visually.

"Of course a man who's blind can't see a thing.

"One time I was going to give up and throw it on the fire."

So he has chosen to take a break from writing for a while. Instead he wants to paint.

"I used to create pictures in my head, and I still have them, every single one of them," he said.

"I would like to put them on canvas. Sometimes I think they're more perfect in your head than if you released them.

"At some stage I will paint them. I don't know when, but I think I will do it."

Turlough by Brian Keenan is published by Jonathan Cape at £16.99