DNA tests and their fallout

One of my friends has had a DNA test, and has discovered two things she didn't know before.

First, that contrary to her lifelong belief, she does not have Mediterranean blood. She isn't of Spanish origin. She's almost pure Midlands, with just a touch of Irish. She doesn't quite know what to make of this, because she tans up wonderfully, and certainly has all the colourful liveliness and zest for life of a lady who must surely hail from a sunnier land sometime back in her ancestry. But the result can't be argued with.

Second, she has been told about her close matches with people who have already taken a DNA test. And she has discovered that she has a half-brother she knew nothing about. With of course implications concerning her father's personal history, and why she was kept in the dark. And it doesn't end there. She has a dilemma on her hands: should she, or should she not, pay for the contact details and get in touch with this half-brother? He's a pretty close relative: it's surely reasonable to say hello and see what transpires.

And yet...

Her actual brother isn't keen for her to pursue this. Her husband doesn't think it's a great idea. And what if this half-brother doesn't want to meet her? Or he does, but he turns out to be somebody she'd rather not know?

On the other hand, there might be a lovely person and a lovely family out there.

It's all very difficult, and I don't know what she'll decide to do. It certainly highlights the kinds of problem that arise when you yield to curiosity and take a DNA test. Who knows what you'll find out.

Me, I'd rather not know. I'm not tempted to seek out unknown relatives. Truth to tell, I'm not family-minded, and I'm perfectly content to accept the standard version of my own origin, that I'm the product of a Devonshire man and a Welsh woman, with, on my Mum's side, a proven background ancestry in Sweden. I don't want to dig, and find that - say - I was adopted as a baby, and things are not as I was told. Or that Dad, scarcely out of his teens, and no doubt egged on by his contemporaries, got someone pregnant during the war, and that I have a sister. That would be so alien to my mental concept of Dad and his code of behaviour that I would be very upset.

The furthest I've ever gone down that route is to imagine a challenge out of the blue from HMRC, who had discovered an offshore bank account opened in my name, in existence for fifty years, never drawn on, and now containing a huge accumulation of untouched capital and interest. It would need explaining, with tax recovery the least of it. I'd have to attend a Revenue interview (and of course I know exactly what those are like) and learn things that would make me suspect that Dad (it could only have been him) had salted away a tidy sum for my eventual benefit, yet had never told me. I would eventually convince the Revenue that Dad had to be the source of these funds - not me - and I'd settle with them for tax and interest, possibly avoiding any penalty. Despite the Revenue's cut, I'd still retain a most welcome nest egg. A very useful windfall.

But then I'd be wondering where Dad could possibly have got the money. Again, it would jar horribly with my image of him, to think that he had in any way got the cash by dishonest or criminal means. Even his concealing it dishonestly would be awful to discover. I might be so put out that I'd regard the money as irredeemably tainted. Then what could I do with it?

It's a terrible thing, when you have spent your life looking up to a parent, then have reason to think less of them.

Thankfully, that tale I've just told is pure fiction and isn't likely to happen. I don't think I missed a penny when administering Mum and Dad's estates in 2009. But other things could have happened. Mum and Dad tended not to let me in on their innermost secrets. Suppose I took a DNA test and it revealed a background, and connections, and maybe estrangements and tragedies, that I previously knew nothing about? Mum and Dad keeping me in the dark, because in their view I was always a wayward child and unable to understand? Or things that their generation just couldn't explain?

You can know too much. I'd say I have a healthy curiosity about ordinary things, but opening a can of worms, or letting genies out of bottles, is something you do at your peril. Well, I don't want to do it.

Mind you, genealogy is an ever-popular pastime, and so much easier to do nowadays. These DNA tests are clearly going to become more common. Someone might contact me out of the blue, saying we are blood-relations and providing proof.

Well, I don't mind hearing from distant cousins, but a brother or sister? I hope not. I would find it very hard to handle.