I never met my mother. All I know is that she was from China, because it’s on my birth certificate. And I’ve seen what she looks like from a few photos. Dad was a migrant from Hong Kong who had his own restaurants. Apparently she went off with his second chef when I was a baby.
At first, when Dad was working, our live-in nanny looked after me. Then, when I was about 6, my dad met my step mum through an arranged marriage. I met her a few times in Hong Kong before . . .