A tent in Mrs Brewer's front garden,
round the corner from
mum's old place

Saturday

Dear Dad-

Stop the clocks.
This will come as a terrible shock.
Mum is dead.
It didn't happen like the papers say.
She wasn't quite right in the head.
Even before the fateful day
when she accused you of a culpable personality
she was showing signs of multiple personality
disorder (bordering on psychotic lunacy).
Life hasn't been fun for June, Java and me.

We have been through her papers, know everything.
It is awfully unsettling
and even in the depths of our grief
it comes as some relief
to unburden it all to you-
no-one else can help us through.
We have found various scraps-deeply touching you'll see.
She thought of you in terms of poetry

which we know will bring a tear to your eye.
It is so affecting. Who wouldn't cry?
How it hurts, how it hurts. I don't think that I
can continue. I'm almost insane
with the pain.

Yours, Jane.