Playing the detective satisfies on so many levels. It’s a puzzle to solve, it’s a secret to bear, it’s an adventure to have, it’s a mother to find. I‘m not going to bother looking for my dad. I’ve decided he is a peripheral figure, a sperm donor if you like. It’s my biological mother I’m hunting and nothing is going to stop me! Except of course, me, I need to play it cool, not appear to needy. “I’m doing this for her” I say it so many times I have convinced myself. So I start, then stop, then re-start, then pause; pendulating between search and avoid, like a child moving their hand towards a fire.