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08/08/2011: Count Dimitri Varkov and I

While choking down my morning kedgeree, I mused on who would think of mixing kippers and porridge in the first place, then, more importantly, why the ruling classes have to eat the accursed stuff.

This train of thought took me back to my lifetime pal, Dimitri Varkov. We were inseperable at school, and have been lifelong friends ever since those happy days at Farkham Academy. Dimitri's mother was exiled to Britain alone, penniless and with no prospects. She and Dimitri lived in reduced circumstances over in Far Kingtown. In fact I often wondered how he could attend such an expensive boarding school. Only recently did I discover that my father's blessed generosity funded the young Dimitri's education

Such was his commitment to helping out that father often made visits to Far Kingtown in order to monitor the lad's progress. Typical of his considerate nature, he always made these visits in term time so as not to interrupt our scholarly concentration.

Being young and full of high spirits, we were often in hot water at school, in fact one of the most memorable beatings I had was when the headmaster asked who burned down the old barn in the school farm. I thought that my honest answer "Varkov and I" would earn me some clemency, but it seems that Dr De'ath was in no mood for mercy that day. Stumbling out of his office, I made a mental note that next time the answer should be "Varkov and I Sir".

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