My biological father turned up after fourteen years with a new car on my seventeenth birthday. Then he looked past me at my stepdad and said one sentence.

Now he knows who his real father is.

Roland Ash said that on our drive in front of twenty-five people, holding the keys to a car he was already behind on, having just taken an eleven-pound present out of my hand and put it down on the bonnet.

He was right that I knew.