2876 days ago
The glossy magazine sent out to those who attended Warwick School arrived yesterday. For no particular reason I thumbed through page after page of the Old Warwickian reflecting on how the place had changed since my day ( 1976-86). I have written before of how I was physically (not sexually) assaulted by one master, Mr Eve and how I believe the school turned a blind eye to his activities against a number of boys over many years. Warwick has, to its credit, apologised and assured me that times have changed. I believe that they have. But I spent a sleepless night thinking of a photo from the current issue of the old outdoor pool which is where we swam when I attended.
There is a photo of a boy sitting in the pool reading a magazine in 1985. You can't make out the boy or the mag but I almost think it might be me. But it is not 1985 that I think of. As I lie in bed at night, especially in the cold, my right ankle stiffens. I twitch it and it clicks, a click that is sometimes loud enough for my wife to hear it. The pain is very minor but always there.
