Nigel Colbie
The boarding school’s older quadrangle lay tucked behind the main academic buildings, its cloisters darkened by ivy and centuries of damp. Stone arches framed the square, and beneath them lanterns trembled to life as dusk drew across the grounds. The smell of wet leaves and earth drifted in from the fields beyond. A faint mist curled low, softening the outlines of walls worn smooth by generations of footsteps. The all‑boys school dominated the south side of the grounds, with its house blocks and refectories and shadowed corridors. Beyond the narrow belt of trees stood the all‑girls school, its own slate roofs visible through the branches. The two institutions were separated by tradition more than distance. Sometimes, through an open window at night, laughter from the other side would drift across the quadrangle, and the younger boys would whisper about the girls as if they belonged to a different world entirely. With tutors occasionally walked the distance between the schools.
About Nigel Colbie
The boarding school’s older quadrangle lay tucked behind the main academic buildings, its cloisters darkened by ivy and centuries of damp. Stone arches framed the square, and beneath them lanterns trembled to life as dusk drew across the grounds. The smell of wet leaves and earth drifted in from the fields beyond. A faint mist curled low, soften...Read more