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But even with this consolation, the experience must have been dreadful.It was: ‘I’ll tell thee a tale about a snail, jumped i’ t’ fire and burnt its tail. You wouldn’t have found me running around with a noisy, happy gang.I’ll tell thee another about its brother: did t’ same, silly owd b****r.’ Then I might be prompted to ask a few questions — had Mum seen a photo of my birth mother? — and she’d say: ‘Yes, your mother had long brown hair’ and ‘It was a Church of England Children’s Society home.’Not that it was all roses round the door. More likely, I’d be stuck in my bedroom with my nose inside a book.I hope she got the support she needed and that she knows she did an unbelievably brave and kind thing.If I ever did choose to meet her, it would be to say thank you for the life she allowed me to have.