Brushing my doll's hair, my mind drifted back to its favourite subject.
I wonder what he looks like? I thought.
What does he like to play with?
It was May 1979, I was 8 and once again daydreaming about my brother.
For as long as I could remember, it'd always just been me and my mum, Janice, then 33.
My dad, John Smith, had left when I was 4, and soon after, moved to Australia.
Over time, Mum had heard that he'd fathered another baby.
My half-brother.
‘All I know is that he's called Jason,’ she told me.
When I was 15, Mum met my stepdad, Ken Brooker, who
