Despite paying thousands of euros a year into the French pension and social security system, we are under no illusion that they will give us any money when we’re older and even greyer. So we have been vetting the children.

“Which of you will look after us when we’re old?” asked Rupert the other day.

“Bea will be no good,” said Olivia, “she’ll be too busy with her boyfriends.”

“What about you? You’ll look after us, won’t you?” he asked.

“Only if you’re good,” she replied.

So parental truth number eight is this. Although your children have the right to drive you mad and behave as badly as is possible for twenty years or more, you do not. But I guess we have had our turn with our parents.

Copyright: Helena Frith Powell 2008

A teenage bride who came to Leeds for an arranged marriage has been beaten to death during a “prolonged and vicious attack” by her young husband over a three-week period, all with the collaboration of his relations who apparently took an instant dislike to her.

Sabia Rani, aged 19, from Pakistan, married Shazad Khan, aged 25 in January 2006. She suffered bruising to 90 per cent of her body, sustaining horrific injuries that would normally only be seen in victims of a car crash. Paramedics found her dead in her bathroom.

The family blamed “evil spirits, curses and black magic” for the horrendous injuries, but the truth is that Sabia’s broken ribs were caused by her husband stamping on them. He was convicted of her murder last year. The police are now prosecuting Sabia’s mother-in-law, sister-in-law and her husband for allowing the death of “a vulnerable adult” and perjury.

While I applaud the fact that the rest of the family is being prosecuted, I don’t think it is enough. If you have a dog who repeatedly attacks your children, you put him down. He is not willing or able to abide by the rules of your household so he is no longer welcome.

So it should be with people who are not willing or able to abide by the rules of our society. Personally I would put them down, but a more politically viable option would be to deport them. Unless we send a strong message to those living under these medieval beliefs and customs the “honour” killings and abuse of women will continue.

And before you start writing to me harping on about human rights, do you really believe that someone who does this kind of thing can be called human and therefore have any such rights?

In colonial India the British put an end to the ritual of Sati or Suttee, the burning of a newly-widowed woman on her husband’s funeral pyre.

The locals told Sir Charles Napier that it was their “custom” to burn widows.

“You say that it is your custom to burn widows. Very well. We also have a custom: when men burn a woman alive, we tie a rope around their necks and we hang them. Build your funeral pyre; beside it, my carpenters will build a gallows. You may follow your custom. And then we will follow ours,” he told them.

How many more young girls will die at the hands of their families before we have the courage to act against these “customs”?

(Read the Daily Mail article: ‘Family turned a blind eye’ as teenage bride was beaten to death by arranged husband)

Copyright: Helena Frith Powell 2008

As Hillary Clinton gets bitter in a televised TV debate with Barack Obama, the singer Amy Winehouse is frolicking on a beach in the Caribbean with her ex-boyfriend. Who do you think does more to further the cause of women?

Most would probably say Hillary. She was (and some may say still is) likely to become the first ever female president of the US. She strides around making important speeches and leaves men quaking in her wake. Amy, on the other hand, is a drug addict lunatic with a husband in jail and more tattoos than David Beckham.

My view is that women like Hillary do more damage to women’s causes than men do. She has become worse than a man. She is more aggressive, more strident and totally charmless. Just because you’re in a position of power, there’s no need to give up being a warm and attractive (even sexy) person. Her husband certainly didn’t. Here in France we saw a similar change (although not nearly as bad) in Segolene Royal. In the end Sarko outpolled her among women, as Obama has just done to Hillary in the US.

Amy may be flawed and faithless. But she is pure woman. She is talented and successful and behaving badly. In her song You Know I’m No Good she says “Upstairs in bed with my ex boy, he’s in a place but I can’t get joy”. This may all have changed now.

But the point is that women are not fooled by a woman trying to be a man. That’s not what we want when we talk about the first female president. We want a first WOMAN president, not some pastiche of a man whom we hate on sight. If Hillary were a touch more like Amy (or even Bill) we would like her a lot more, chinks and all.

Copyright: Helena Frith Powell 2008

We are home. I spent much of our last day skulking in the woods while my estranged aunt visited the children. As usual, she was two hours late, so by the time she finally arrived my planned “walk” had turned into a mini-marathon, it was pitch-dark outside and I was wearing sunglasses. Now here’s a dilemma; in that situation do you ditch the glasses and rely on myopic vision to get you home or do you keep the glasses and wait for the moon to come out?

As I walked around the woods I was reminded of one of the highlights of our trip, a walk Bea and I had together. We were wandering along hand-in-hand chatting when we suddenly heard a gun-shot.

“I hope he doesn’t shoot us,” said Bea. “I’ll tell him, dear Mr shooter, we are only here visiting my grandmother who lives over there, please don’t kill us. After all I’m only a little girl, I’m only seven years old, and my mummy, well she’s not THAT old.”

As you can imagine, we were spared.

After a week away with my children I have learnt some new things about them. One is that they’re better when they’re not all together. Alone they are actually very easy. A joy in fact.

Olivia didn’t cease to amaze me during the week with how clever she is, as well as clumsy. It seems her brain works faster than her body. Bea is quite the most talented linguist I have ever met. She picked up Italian like other people pick up flu. Leo is a sweet, caring little boy, something you don’t see much of when he is trying to keep up, or fighting, with his sisters.

Travelling with them was a bit like travelling with film stars. Everywhere they went they were noticed and people were totally intrigued by them. Piera, the estranged aunt, was so enamoured she has invited them to stay with her in Italy. One at a time. She’s obviously not as daft as I thought……

Copyright: Helena Frith Powell 2008

The New Year is traditionally a time for looking forward. But thanks to some old school reports from Shaw House Grammar School for Girls I found at my mother’s house, I have been looking back, all the way back to my teens…..

My English report does not bode well for my writing future. This one is from 1977. Achievement C+ Effort B. Helena is a bright and active member of this group, into which she has settled well. Her written work does not live up to the general impression she otherwise makes.

Rupert says that’s before I had him as an editor.

By 1978 things have improved slightly. Achievement A (no mark for effort). Helena shows a lively interest in English. She takes an active part in class work and enjoys discussion, reading and acting. Her written work is imaginative and mature.

The headmistress’s comment from 1977 perhaps has more in common with the present than I will admit.

Although Helena is a very mature girl in many ways, she is inclined to fuss and bother over minor matters. She seems to want to organise everyone about her, but I think she will soon find that other people are not always willing to be organised! If Helena would concern herself a little more with Helena alone, I am sure things would improve!

I don’t like people who end critical little sentences with punctuation marks. It’s almost as if they don’t really mean what they’re saying. Or they’re too scared to really stand behind what they’re saying.

When I read that out to Rupert he said it sounded like an exact description of Olivia and me. So the past is always part of the future.

Happy New/Old Year.

Copyright: Helena Frith Powell 2008

Yesterday it was Bea’s turn to see Rome. We got off the train and headed straight to the Vatican. Bea wants to be an artist and I thought the Sistine Chapel might inspire her. She is also very keen on religion. We passed a shop with lots of pictures of the Pope outside.

“Is that God?” she asked.

The Christmas tree and the crib were a great hit with her. Nothing excites Bea quite as much as the sight of a “Baby Jesus”. Sadly there was a queue of about two miles to get into the museum so it was either wait there all day or save Michelangelo for another time and see some of Rome.

We headed for the Pantheon first. Bea thought it was fine, but was rather more interested in the shops. She managed to find a charming sequined hat (pink of course). Just like her sister, she loved the Trevi Fountain, which confirms my theory that it is a fountain built for children.

We sat in the afternoon sun at the top of the Spanish Steps while she drew two pictures of the view below us. She knows it is my favourite place in Rome and was scandalised to see some McDonald’s cups abandonded on the steps.

“At your favourite place,” she fumed. “How COULD they?”

I wonder if one day when she is a groovy young art student she will come back to the Spanish Steps and sell her drawings to lucky tourists.

Today is New Year’s Day. I lay awake most of the night listening to Italians driving home from their parties, wondering what resolutions to make. Half of me thinks resolutions are a silly habit, but at the same time I can’t seem to stop myself.

So for 2008 I resolve to write a novel, do Pilates every day and bring Leonardo (aka Spiderman) to Rome. Both Olivia and Bea have declared the Trevi Fountain their favourite place. I wonder what his will be?

And while we’re on the subject of Spiderman. I have now seen all three films (at least 40 times) and have an idea for a New Year’s resolution for Mary-Jane. She has been kidnapped by baddies (countless times), fallen at high-speed from sky-scrapers, locked in taxis suspended from giant webs in the sky. How about making 2008 they year you get another boyfriend? Just an idea….

Copyright: Helena Frith Powell 2008