Chapter Seven
A Cry for Help
Edward had been kept a virtual prisoner at Cheatem, his ordeal more trying with each passing day. He had found himself shamelessly used and abused, his masculinity held up for ridicule, forced to pay tribute to dominating women. Under this constant indoctrination, the young lad became hopelessly confused, his thoughts a mass of contradictions; his emotions in turmoil. For month after month this torture went on, until, just in the nick of time, fate intervened. One day, while working in the library, he happened to spy a recent copy of the Times and, quite by chance, noticed a small item to the effect that my regiment had been recalled to once again be billeted at our home barracks at Hampstead Park.
Edward and I had not seen each other for many years -- not
