THE LETTER

So I’ve finally received THE letter - looking so tremendously authoritative and imposing as only an official French government letter can - which informs me that I’ve been allocated a school in the south-eastern environs of Paris at the end of the Pink Line 7. I’ve now entered the ‘dread’ phase where I’m slightly panicking about: (a) what the hell I think I am doing (b) how will I cope without beloved familiar English things (i.e. a nice piece of toast)? (c) where am I going to live which doesn’t resemble something in a novel by Zola? (d) will I live up to the famous ‘Rob’, the English teacher before me?