When I was growing up, people always asked me what it was like having a mum like Lillian Frank. They only saw a flamboyant, larger-than-life socialite splashed across the papers in outlandish hats during the Melbourne Cup or in dazzling dresses at charity balls. But for me, she was always “just mum”. Yet as the years progressed, I soon realised Mum wasn’t your average mum: she was a one-in-a-million powerhouse who raised millions for charity; a refugee who arrived in Australia with nothing, to create a rich life of wonder, joy and philanthropy.
Mum was born in Burma in 1930, the youngest of six kids. During the war, as a young child, she fled the Japanese to live in Bombay (now Mumbai), India, with her parents, three sisters and two brothers. But then, just after the war, when Mum was 14, an opportunity arose to secure British passports. So, her mum, Aziza, made the tough decision to send Mum to live with her Aunt Claire in London to carve out a better life for herself. “India isn’t a place for a girl like you,” my grandmother told her at the time. But Mum was furious
