Chere Julie, dear Jules. (revisited.) Part one.
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.
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