I phone Mum to wish her happy birthday.

It’s not my Mum, obviously, and I feel slightly strange calling her Mum. I always felt like this. But I know it will please her (both to call her Mum and to phone her to wish her happy birthday). I send my love to Dad and ask how he is. We continue for a short while on the phone. I’ve never really had long conversations with them. Not least because I couldn’t always understand what they said so well.

I don’t want to get into deep conversation with her. I know that she will start crying and I’m not good with that. She’s not crying ‘cos we’ve split but just because Dad is so ill. She holds off crying but, towards the end of the conversation I can hear it in her voice. I end the call. I can’t make things better for her or Dad (again, obviously not my real Dad).

I promise to try and get over to see them this year. She thanks me for calling and I believe she was really happy that I called even if the circumstances are difficult.

But I don’t know what V has said about us or, rather, about the ‘no longer us’. I know that he told C, his sister, that I am with F now. When I spoke to C about it she seemed really happy for me. But, then she would. That’s the way she is and why I love her still, even if she is not really my sister. It was over 20 years I was part of that family. Longer than I was with my blood family and so they remain ‘my family’ still, I guess. I have no other family to replace them, not that I’m looking for one to replace them.

There will be difficult situations ahead, that much I know. What with Dad being ill. Even if they are ‘my family’, I always feel a little bit of an outsider – and not just because of the colour of our skin. But I worry about them and think about them often.