The secrets and lies behind this happy family photo

In a time when falling in love with a married man or – shock! – someone of the same sex was taboo, many chose to live a lie rather than risk the shame it would unleash. So for these women, uncovering long buried truths was devastating

‘MUM WROTE, “I DON’T UNDERSTAND WHY I’M DIFFERENT”’

Helen Garlick, 62, is a former divorce mediator from West Sussex

Growing up in 1960s Yorkshire, I always thought my parents looked like the ideal couple. Their 59 years together showed how well suited they were, sharing the same aims and values and relishing their role as staunch pillars of the community. It was a conventional postwar childhood: my father Geoffrey would work hard in his own legal practice to provide for us, while my mother Monica ran the home with flair as well as volunteering in the community.

When my beloved father died aged 83 in 2014, I was devastated; then when my mother died suddenly three years later, I was in shock. But nothing could have prepared me for what happened next. Because in my mother’s belongings was an envelope containing a secret she’d carried with her for her entire married life – a secret that had me questioning whether my seemingly happy childhood had been anything but a lie.

In the letter she had left me, she’d written: ‘I am and will always not be the same but different – not the norm. I don’t understand why I’m different. I wonder how other lesbians cope.’

I remember the deep shock I felt spreading through my body as I read on. ‘I’ve had my share of others who were likewise afflicted,’ she’d continued, before naming some of the women with whom she’d had affairs – women I knew.

I can hardly describe the mix of emotions I felt; I could barely comprehend that my mother was a lesbian. And I was angry at the tone of the letter – that she was blaming others for not having told me before she died at 86. But I, too, stayed silent at first, unwilling to let her secret overshadow her funeral, although I spent the day fearing others must have known and were laughing at me for having no idea. However, I was eventually to discover it wasn’t common knowledge by any means.

The whole story tumbled out when

I spoke to one of the women mentioned on her list. Gwen was a close family friend and she told me she’d had a four-year relationship with my mother before she married. They’d even shared a flat in London.

But my grandmother had tracked Mum down and told her she had to stop ‘these dirty deeds’ and get married. I felt for my mother as it must have been so hard, but I wasn’t surprised she did as she was told and returned home – she wanted children and the status of married life.

Gwen, who was openly gay, and Mum remained close friends even after she married Dad. It turned out Gwen had

Opposite:

Helen (front left) with parents Geoffrey and Monica and brother David, 1962. family friend Gwen, who, Helen discovered, had earlier been in a live-in relationship with Monica

Above:

introduced Mum to other women she’d had relationships with. One, Margaret, used to come and stay with us, and Gwen described her as the only other person my mother had ever loved.

There had been many other women over the years, Gwen revealed. ‘But I don’t somehow feel they were serious, or she would have told me,’ she said. I was stunned. Women I’d viewed as my mother’s best friends were in fact her lovers, and I was left wondering whether she was the one who sought women out or vice versa. Was she making moves on women under our roof, behind Dad’s back? It seemed at odds with their image as respectable members of Yorkshire society.

But a lot of other things fell into place. How Mum found it hard to touch Dad – even to cut his nails or comb his hair. My parents were never tactile – there were no kisses or hugs on the sofa unless there was a camera.

The other question was, did Dad know? Gwen thought he may have. He once took her to see a play about a married man who finds out his wife is having an affair with a woman. It was all hints – but I believe he did, although I’ll never know for sure.

I think he accepted her for who she was. After all, they had a good marriage and my mother loved her life with him. But I feel sad she couldn’t live openly and disappointed that

‘I DISCOVERED MY DAD HAD ANOTHER DAUGHTER’

Carole Railton, 70, is a body-language expert from North London

Stopping off at a grocery store in Kent on a work trip one day, I was surprised when a woman I didn’t know came up to me and said: ‘Daphne, hello. I haven’t seen you for a while. You’re looking so well!’

I laughed and explained I wasn’t Daphne, but her surprise and doubt when I insisted I wasn’t struck me as odd. She eventually accepted she’d made a mistake, but it stayed with me – she’d seemed so sure.

It’s why I mentioned it to my mother a few hours later, just as a curious oddity. Little did I expect it to unleash a family secret that ended up ripping us apart.

Because when I told my mum Anne, who was nearing the end with breast cancer, about being mistaken for a woman called Daphne in Kent, she didn’t react as I expected. Instead she told me my father Charles had been married before and had a daughter – clearly the Daphne I’d been mistaken for. ‘I’m sorry we didn’t tell you,’ she said. ‘We made an agreement.’

Until then, my younger sister Pamela and I had thought Dad, a decade older than Mum, had no relations.

They’d met during the Second World War when they were both posted to Egypt, working for the Army. Dad was a linguist, and taught Arabic to my mother, who was a telephonist. I suspect they fell in love while he was still married to his first wife, who was then back in England with their daughter.

I know no more than that because, in the aftermath of learning about my father’s betrayal, I couldn’t deal with it. My mother was so close to death – in fact she died two days later aged 50 on New Year’s Eve in 1973 – that I had to put it to one side.

There was no internet so I had no one else to ask but my father and he was in a mess. It wasn’t the moment to confront him. So I focused on organising the funeral with this revelation nagging at the back of my mind.

Then one day, shortly before her cremation, it suddenly came out and I asked him if it was true.

‘Yes, we didn’t want to complicate things,’ he said. I asked if he’d seen his daughter at all and he said no. There was no emotional scene – he was buttoned-up and dealt with my questions matter-of-factly. I felt even more betrayed. The thing that hurt