When I saw those pictures of you that you sent me from Japan I was gobsmacked. You really do look like your dad. You actually remind me of him when I was going out with him. Johnny was dark haired and swarthy looking, a real Romany Gypsy type. Well, I was terrified when I realized you weren't his. I just knew he would kill me. I told the social worker, but she said that I shouldn't worry, and that I shouldn't tell my fiance. Of course, in the early sixties they didn't have DNA tests or anything, so you could probably get away with telling such porkies, but I was scared of what would happen if he ever found out that you weren't his. He had seen you. He had seen you in the hospital. He had held you, kissed you, and I could see he was proud, overjoyed to be a father. I could not imagine breaking the news to him that you weren't his, so I didn't say anything to him at first.
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