Fell In Love With A Boy.
 
 
St Barnaby’s Academy for Young Men was widely regarded as being one of the best boarding colleges in the country. An esteemed old institution, the huge Georgian mansion house was set in acres of perfectly kept grounds. Beautiful trim lawns, magnificent woodland and the expertly tended rugby pitches were admired throughout the area.

The college had a fine history of preparing young men to become successful, well respected gentlemen and their swift and sometimes draconian punishments for wrong-doing were legendary.

It was in a dormitory within this fine establishment that young Edgar Carmichael awoke upon the occasion of his eighteenth birthday. Edgar was a slight, gangly young man, not very sporty but not very academic either; he tip-toed his way through life trying not to bother people and avoiding causing trouble of any conceivable sort.

His father, Lord Carmichael had been convinced that St Barnaby’s was the place to make a man out of the boy and had sent Edgar there as his father had sent him; unfortunately the strict regime had not had entirely the desired effect.

Edgar wasn’t interested in rugby or rowing, he had never really taken to shooting either. He did enjoy horse riding but that was about the limit of his outdoor activities. Instead he preferred to spend his time in the library reading the classics, or staying in the dorm with some Rodgers and Hammerstein. His favourite subjects were Latin and history and he often stayed behind to help the teachers carry their books.

Edgar didn’t really have any friends and all the other guys laughed at him and teased him, singling him out for all manner of vile abuses. And at no other time was this more apparent than on his birthday. He knew of course the day would be commemorated by his parents who would no doubt have sent him a hamper just brimming with splendid treats; but otherwise the day would pass largely unnoticed.

This general indifference to his special day from  all the other chaps no longer held any particular chagrin for Edgar, it had merely become a tradition in it’s own right; so consoling himself with the thought of the hamper he climbed out of bed and went to get washed.

His first lesson after breakfast was geography, and after that double maths and the morning passed on as any other. At last lunch time arrived and Edgar skipped off to enjoy pork chops with boiled potatoes and asparagus with just a smidgen of apple sauce; sitting as was his way completely by himself.