My mum had told me never to go looking for my father. But I did, and I made an incredible discovery. By Suzy Fraser, 64
My stomach was in knots as I knocked on the door. I’d waited for 33 years for this moment, and now it was here, my heart was in my mouth,
Here goes nothing, I thought.
The door swung open and a woman stood there as I gawped at her.
‘I… I… don’t mean you any harm,’ I stuttered, ‘but I need to tell you something.’
Then I took a deep breath and blurted: ‘I’m your daughter.’
A look of shock spread across her face and we both burst into tears.
Then she said: ‘You’re breaking the law.’
‘Call the police if you want to,’ I replied.
But she shook her head and said: ‘I’ve wanted this day to arrive. Come in — I bet you’ve got loads of questions.’
That was an understatement.
'You might be related to my father?'
I’d been searching for my birth mother for years and I was desperate for answers.
I’d already done some research and discovered that my mother, Janet, had been unmarried when she fell pregnant.
That was back in the 1950s when there was a stigma around unwed mums, so she was packed off from Portsmouth in Hampshire to Australia, where she had me.
Then I’d been adopted.
We’d never met before and she had no idea I was coming to see her.
What had made things worse was the fact that she’d paid to make it illegal for me to find her. I’d risked a fine and a six-month jail sentence.
But I’d taken a gamble and I was glad I had.
She answered every question until we got to the tricky one.
‘Who’s my father?’ I asked.
Her face fell.
‘His name’s Raymond Bond and he was in the merchant navy,’ she said. ‘But I forbid you to track him down. He’s probably drunk in some corner.’
She had no photos of him, as her husband had destroyed them all.
‘I’ll tell you more on my deathbed,’ she said.
But I couldn’t wait that long.
Back at home, I looked up my father in the merchant navy records, but drew a blank.
I thought: Did Mum lie to me?
I wanted to ask her more, but although we kept in touch, we never talked about my father again.
I let it go for years, until one day my husband Tim suggested I do a DNA search through the genealogy site MyHeritage.
After submitting a sample, the site found a match — a cousin in Gibraltar called Colin.
I messaged him and he replied with information.
We shared great-grandparents, and Colin told me that although my dad was known as Raymond, his actual name was Edward Raymond Bond.
‘We’ve been looking for the wrong person,’ I told Tim.
Dad had become a milkman in Eastbourne, East Sussex. He’d died 12 years earlier, aged 75.
The only other relative Colin knew of was another Susie, my half-sister.
'He'd be so happy we're all together'
When he sent over photos of her, I gasped in shock — she was the spitting image of me.
Tragically, Susie had died at 19 from a fatal asthma attack. It sent chills down my spine, as I also had asthma and had suffered a few close calls myself.
If Dad had another child, he might have a wife, I thought.
Armed with this new knowledge, Tim and I continued our search.
I went on Facebook every night and called people in London, trying to speak to someone who knew Dad.
We hit a lot of dead ends, but finally we had a breakthrough.
Using the census, we found a London address linked to Dad, and the house had recently been sold.
With a pounding heart, I phoned the estate agent and told him my story.
He agreed to pass my details on to the owner, and within the hour, I’d received an email from a woman named Eileen.
It read: You might be related to my father?
I’d found another sister.
Eileen and her family had no idea about me. Her mum Deanna had been married to Dad for 58 years.
I also had another half-sister and a half-brother, Sharon and Steve.
When it all came out, there was a shock.
‘My mum is yelling at Dad’s photos and saying he led a double life,’ Eileen told me.
But it wasn’t like that all. Dad had been sent away to start a new life, while my mum was banished to Australia.
My other siblings got in touch and we got to know each other. Soon I was FaceTiming them regularly and messaging Sharon every day.
They were shocked at my uncanny resemblance to Susie, especially as we shared the same name, and they told me stories about Dad. He sounded nothing like Mum’s description.
‘He had a favourite song and we all love it too,’ said Eileen, who I’d really taken to, affectionately calling her Lil.
It was John Denver’s Take Me Home, Country Roads.
I gasped and said: ‘That’s my favourite too!’
Although chatting was lovely, we all wanted to meet up and planned a holiday to Pattaya in Thailand, but then Covid struck.
I feared I’d never meet my long-lost siblings. But after waiting 59 years, I knew I could be patient for a bit longer.
Finally, exactly four years after tracking down my family, we travelled to Thailand to meet for the first time.
Tim and I arrived the day before the others, so the following morning, we waited in the airport arrivals hall with a banner that read: Ready to bond.
And we most certainly were.
The first voice I heard was Eileen’s, saying: ‘There they are, I can see a sign!’
Feeling excited, I ran over and hugged them all.
Although we all thought we’d cry, none of us actually did. Everything felt right.
For the next nine days, we had an amazing time.
Despite growing up on different sides of the world, we were so similar. We all had a passion for dancing and would say things at the same time.
Eileen was terrified of getting into deep water, so I taught her to swim.
One day, we were playing a card game when Eileen said: ‘Wait, there’s one more card. We need to blindfold someone, so I nominate Suzy.’
I let them make a blindfold out of my sarong and place something in my hands.
‘What do you feel?’ they asked.
‘Satin,’ I said.
As I took off the blindfold, I saw everyone was wearing masks with my face on and the satin material was a sash bearing the words: Team Suzy, we all love you.
‘You always say that no one looks like you, so now we all do!’ Sharon said.
I burst into tears.
Later we visited a massage parlour, and the song that was playing stopped me in my tracks.
It was Dad’s favourite, Take Me Home, Country Roads.
Eileen looked up to the sky and said: ‘Dad’s watching over us. He’d be so happy we’re all together.’ Then she turned to me and said: ‘He would have adored you.’
That meant the world to me.
Saying goodbye was difficult, and we all cried, but my siblings are hoping to visit Australia in August, which would be wonderful.
I feel blessed to have found my family and to have such a special bond with them. Now I feel complete.