Having just returned to Malta, where I have a flat in, I was saddened to see confused letters in the Times of Malta regarding Brexit. I have lived for more than four decades in Europe (France and Italy). I grew up in Portsmouth – a satellite of Malta where my local church had a Maltese priest who said Mass in Maltese at 8am every Sunday.

Malta has an extraordinarily long history and the friendship between Great Britain and Malta long pre-dates the European Union. People forget (or choose not to remember), but in 1945 how many European countries could hold their heads up high? Malta? Yes. Britain? Yes.

Yet De Gaule decided that the Anglo Saxon was the enemy (we all know why). In 1960, he invited Adenaur to a castle in  France. Secretly he told the Chancellor that Europe needed to be united. “Germany would be the horse, and France would be the coach driver.”

Let me offer a metaphor: If for 30 years I go to a restaurant with 20 friends – and we are all “going Dutch” – I do not wish to be told by two people at the top table they have already ordered for me. “May I see the menu?” “No. You are not having cake because you are too fat…” David Cameron pleaded to see the menu before the referendum. He was told not to be a nuisance.

To be honest, if I am on a train and I find myself with travellers from Berlin, Paris, New Delhi, Valletta and Toronto, I know with whom I have a lot in common – every country’s history inevitably dictates its present and makes it special. I sincerely hope that Malta will bear this in mind.