This is the title of a book which I finished reading on holiday. It is by John de st Jorre who has written loads of books but this is probably the only one I would read. I found it in a charity shop before lock down but put off reading it because I thought it might be depressing. Once I did start it, I couldn't put it down. It's a wonderful heart warming story if also sad at times and brilliantly written.
John and his brother were brought up by their father as they assumed their mother was dead. John had this image in his mind of a laughing woman who he felt sure was his mother. His father didn't talk about her and although plenty of photos of his family there were none of the mother or her relatives. It was as if she had never existed.
John writes of his life as a child in the war and gradually he gets clues that his mother is alive. It's not until his father dies though that he does anything about it.
He has quite an amazing life himself. He graduated from Oxford where he was recruited into the secret Intelligence Service better known as MI6, working in Africa for 3 years then becoming a foreign correspondent for the Observer. He covered the Nigerian-Biafran conflict,1973 Arab-Israeli war and the Iranian Revolution amongst many other things.
I think this is my first book review which gives you some idea of how much I enjoyed it.