I was only given this photo about six months ago. It seems incredible but until then I’d never seen a photo of my half-brother, and I’d only seen a picture of my half-sister as a young woman. I had seen her once, at my father’s funeral; but she did not want to meet us. I have never seen my brother.
I was about eight when I first discovered my dad had left another family for my mum (three years before I was born), and I always felt very sad for them; it seemed so wrong that they grew up without him while my sister and I had him all to ourselves. Of course the reality is that he did try to see his son and daughter as often as he could, but ultimately, it became impossible.
My sister – she would be about 17 years older than me – has not been heard of for years. I do not even know if she’s alive or dead. We have tried to contact my brother, without success.
But if I look at this photo, I feel a bit happier about everything, because they look happy. My sister looks uncannily like me at that age, too.