Читать книгу For the Love of Julie: A nightmare come true. A mother’s courage. A desperate fight for justice. - Ann Ming - Страница 4

My daughter Julie was a funny mixture of introvert and extrovert. She was shy as a child but could be feisty in arguments when she thought she was in the right, and she didn’t let anyone walk over her. She was hopelessly messy at home, dropping clothes where she took them off and leaving teacups lying around – but she never stepped out of the house without being perfectly groomed. She wouldn’t want to be the centre of attention in a crowd, but around those she loved she never stopped talking, telling us anything and everything that was going through her head.

Julie was beautiful from the day she was born, with a slight oriental look from her Dad’s side of the family, and dark colouring that let her get away with wearing the most dazzling bright colours. As a little girl she loved dressing her Sindy dolls for hours on end, and in her teens it was herself she dressed up. She’d wear ridiculously high heels, super-tight skirts and trousers showing off her perfect, slim figure, and eccentric shirts and jackets all layered on top of each other. Her hairstyle changed from month to month, but whether it was Boy George dreadlocks wrapped in rags, or a bright turquoise fringe, nothing fazed me. No matter how flamboyant an outfit she put together, she always looked stunning.

Julie had a dry (some would say warped!) sense of humour and an infectious giggle that bubbled out at inappropriate moments. She liked dancing, gymnastics and doing people’s hair for them. She was a fantastic mother to her little boy Kevin, and fiercely loyal to her family and her close circle of good friends.

She was full of life and always fun to be with. She was my little girl and I adored her.