Beach Street.

19th June

Dear Jules.

I been back for two days now and I’m settling in alright and I got my old room back again but Kirsty’s not here so its just me

and Francois. Everybody loves him to bits and keeps trying to give him sweets and crisps and stuff and I got to tell them that

I dont want him eating too much of those kind of things but they says I am a spoilsport and gives it to him anyway.

Everybody calls him Frank or Frankie because they cant say Francois because they finds it too hard. I’m not staying here

and I am looking for my own place because I am fed up with everyone feeling sorry for me. My dads the worst and he keeps

telling me I’m stupid for leaving a life of luxury in France and I will end up in a bedsit or something like that. I tells him I got

plenty of money and I can afford a nice flat or even a small house but he still says I am stupid. He makes me think that

maybe I am stupid for leaving you but I just had to get away because I was becoming a nervous wreck.

I went to the doctor yesterday to tell him about my nerves and the pains in my stomach and how I can pull my hair out by the

roots in great clumps and I showed him the medicines that the doctor in France gave me and he looked at one of the

bottles and said he couldnt speak French but from the ingredients he thought it was the same thing they uses to sedate a

horse with before they takes it on a long journey and without even asking he threw them in the waste bin. Then he starts on

about foreign doctors and how most of them are useless and not trained proper and theres only two countries in the world

he will travel to where he would feel safe getting ill and getting the proper treatment so he always takes his holidays in

either Dubai or Switzerland. He looked at the other medicines and threw them in the bin as well and said that if it had been

a doctor in England who had prescribed them he would have reported them to the medical council or something like that.

Then he gives me a prescription and says that I got to go back and see him next week. I hope the stuff he gave me works

because I am really fed up with feeling depressed and confused and I would love to fall asleep at night not feeling

frightened and scared to close my eyes because it is a really long time since that happened.

You dont have to worry about Francois at all. He’s very happy and loves the childrens programmes on telly. I think he misses

not having a lawn outside the front door but he’ll get used to it. I’ll try to find a place with a garden so he’s got somewhere to

play outside and I’ll get him a place in a play group or something as soon as possible so he’s got someone to play with

and it will give me a bit of a break. Him only speaking French might be a bit of a problem but he understands everything

people says to him in English and luckily I knows enough French to know what he is talking about and I still only talks

English to him and with everyone else speaking English I’m sure he pick it up fast enough but right now he seems a bit

confused when people don’t understand what he is saying.

I’m really sorry things didn’t work out for us in France. I did my best and tried to fit in as best I could with learning French and

all that but it was all a bit too foreign for me and I was really really lonely. I didnt really tell you how bad I was feeling

because with your grandmother dying just a few months ago I thought you had enough problems to deal with but I still dont

understand why everyones got to wear black all the time for a year and I went along with it but after a while I found it

depressing because blacks not my best colour and usually I only wears black to make a contrast with whatever else I’m

wearing but to wear only black all the time was a bit too much. And it was really difficult to keep the hat on and especially at

night. It was a bit like a witches hat with the top chopped off and I still dont understand how yours was still on your head in

the morning when you woke up but you said it didnt matter if mine fell off in the night because I wasnt French.

I never ever thought I would say this but sometimes I wished I was French. My dad would kill me if I told him that because

even though I married a Frenchman and lived in France for years he still hates the French and yesterday on the news on

telly they said it was Waterloo Day what is the anniversary of the battle of Waterloo and my dad got up and marched around

the room singing a song about somebody called Wellington. It was really embarrassing because he’s a rubbish singer. I

think things would have been different if I was French and maybe you made a big mistake in marrying someone from

England but I did my best to act like a French woman and I ate loads of garlic and said ooh la la all the time but I still didnt

seem to fit in. Maybe if I had learned French proper it would have been better but with you always speaking English to me

and your family trying to speak English as well I didnt get much of a chance to try out my French. Luckily I knows enough to

understand what Francois is saying.

Francois misses you sometimes although in general he dont but sometimes he walks around the house looking in all the

rooms and saying papa papa and I think he is looking for you but the poor little dear dont really understand what is going

on. My mums looking after him right now but I can hear him complaining about something or other and I promised we

would go to the park so I better finish this letter and I can post it when we goes out.

I’m sorry things didn’t work out better...I can hear Francois screaming so I better go. Give my love to everyone.

Julie