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private tutors he was fluent in both English and Arabic. Needing both as his mother spoke only English with him, and his maids and nannies, Arabic. Singing was one of his favourite activities, and at six years old he knew songs by heart in Turkish, French, German and Farsi. He didn’t understand all of the words to his songs, but it clearly signalled his natural ability to learn languages. This ability was to shape his life.

It was not strange for Teremun to be educated at home as he had known no other way. He liked most of his tutors. Except his German teacher. He was a man in his sixties and suffering from the effects of too much alcohol. Teremun accepted his lesson each week, but thought his teacher smelt very bad. When he told his mother, she told him to either use a handkerchief or hold his breath for an hour. He decided the handkerchief was the best solution. In time he would ask his mother why he didn’t go to school as some of his friends did. But he accepted, as he always would, the word of his mother. She told him he was special. 

It was an ideal life for a young boy. Protected from the day to day life in Egypt under British rule. Young and innocent as we all should be at this age. For Teremun he would stay secure in his protective cocoon until he reached his twelfth birthday. Within days of his birthday, his childhood was to end, and abruptly.

“Where am I going Mother?”
“I told you before Teremun, you are going to England.”
“But do I have to go? Can you come with me?”
“No Teremun. I must stay here. You’re going to a wonderful school in England. You are very lucky. Not many young boys from Cairo can go to school in England.”

For Teremun, the word England was of course familiar, but at twelve it was difficult for him to understand that is was so far away from Cairo. There was no way of preparing himself for the cultural chasm he was about to experience. Hidayah had performed her task to perfection in raising Teremun to the age of twelve as he was highly intelligent and his education had placed him years ahead of his peers. 

Teremun tried to hold the tears that welled up in his eyes. Although successful in not crying, the tears still managed to escape and fall gently on his little olive cheeks. His mother had the same problem. She wiped them away as quickly as they developed. While Teremun fretted over his imminent move to England, Hidayah wondered what her future was now that she had finished her task of raising this young boy.

“It’s still two months before you leave Teremun. We will have time to prepare for your journey and see all your friends before you leave. You need to be brave. You are becoming a man.”

She had wanted to tell him that he would have a new name. However, she decided to deliver the news piece by piece, as she believed Teremun needed time to digest each piece of information about his new life. She would tell him closer to his departure about Charles.

The letter advising of Teremun’s education is England had arrived two weeks before from the office of the Sultan. His travel documents and tickets of passage were enclosed, which were issued under the name of Charles Albert de Villiers. With the war now two years old, Hidayah did not find a change of identity for her boy surprising as it would help him in his new home. England.

Hidayah had waited some days before telling Teremun of the news. She was unsure if she was more afraid for him, or for her own future and was still waiting for advice of what her future held. She had been given the responsibility of raising Teremun seven days following his birth but had not been informed of any details regarding his mother or father, but as her appointment was originally made by the Khedive she knew Teremun was somehow of regal blood. Whose, she didn’t know. For Teremun, she had invented a father for him. Ismail. A brave soldier who died serving Abbas II Hilmi, the Khedive of Egypt and Sudan in the war in Sudan. Inventing her love for Ismail to reassure Teremun, and in turn had reassured herself. In the time since Teremun had been born, war had been the norm. From the war in the Sudan, British rule and the start of the war in Europe, Hidayah struggled to remember living her own life without war. Now twenty-nine and unmarried with her sole purpose in life about to leave. She thought about her own childhood as an orphan. The feeling of loneliness she had not felt for the last twelve years was about to return. 

Now she waited for news of her future from the Sultan’s office, her employer.

The documents she received contained a little information about Teremun’s new school. Dulwich College in London. The information she received said it was a boarding school for boys aged between ten and eighteen. It was clear he was being prepared for a university education in England. She was proud of her role in raising Teremun, but worried as to when she may see him after he left for England. She never would.

“Teremun, you are a very lucky boy to be going to school in London. Do you know how lucky you are?” Hidayah asked Teremun in a manner of trying to reassure him. She continued without his answering. “Life in London will be different to here in Cairo. You will learn to become English. And to help you, I have a surprise for you!” she smiled.

Teremun only answered with his eyes.

“When you go to school in England, you will have a beautiful English name to use. Charles. Do you like that name? He was a very brave king,” she said without knowing if it was true.

“What’s wrong with my name?” Teremun naturally asked.

“Oh, it will be your name always. A name you should always be proud of. But in London, it is a very unusual name, and it might be difficult for English boys to remember. I am sure it will help you get along with all the other boys. But you will always be Teremun in Egypt. You will just use Charles when you are in London,” Hidayah explained. “But many things change, and you know we have talked about the war. It will make it easier if you have an English name.” 

Teremun knew there was no choice and was well used to being obedient. However, he was scared about his new future as it was so far and he would be alone. But he did like the name Charles.

“Can I start using my new name now mother?” he asked. “ I think I like the name Charles.”

〜〜〜〜〜〜

The reality of his new life would not be fully grasped by Teremun until he completed his voyage and arrived in London. Until then, using his imagination to try and develop his plans in his mind. Would England be like the pictures he was so familiar with in his reading books? Would there be maypoles? Fayres? Black Plague? Would he have to wear gloves and a top hat? Would he meet the King? Or a princess? There were to many questions for him to answer.

Hidayah counted the days until her Teremun was due to leave. Wishing the days were longer. She also waited impatiently for news of her future. None arrived. For both of them, it was time that had to pass before anything became clear. It was as if they were both waiting for a dream to finish, before moving on with their lives. Hidayah hoped her new life would not be a nightmare.

Neither Teremun nor Hidayah had been to an English Gentleman’s store before. She hadn’t even known there was such a store in Cairo. On arriving and presenting her letter of introduction, they were treated like royalty by true English gentlemen dressed in immaculate suits with starched white collars. She thought she caught her own reflection in one man’s shining shoes before being seated at a small table and served tea while Teremun was measured for his fitting. It was a surprise to learn that his school uniforms for Dulwich College would be tailored in Cairo and his entire traveling wardrobe would be ready before his departure. As would a letter for the Dulwich College Master informing him of the name of the tailor in London who would be responsible for Charles Albert de Villiers’ habiliments while in England.

After one and a half hours of measuring, noting, comparing and calculating Hidayah was presented with her receipt to present in thirty days to collect Teremun’s habiliments and travel baggage. As his departure was a little over two months away yet, it was in good time.

It was July in Cairo. Hot. Normal. Hidayah wondered how Teremun would live through his first winter in Europe. Would he see snow for the first time in his life? As she hadn’t, and wished she had. Would his new clothes be warm enough? She worried for Teremun as any mother would. But she wasn’t his mother. She trembled, and then again, at the thought of one day having to tell the truth to Teremun. Whatever that truth really was. 

〜〜〜〜〜〜

Hidayah wanted her last weeks with Teremun to be happy ones. Not only for Teremun, but for herself. Happy memories they could both take with them to their uncertain futures. Each day she tried to plan a small adventure or festivity. Days full of Cairo’s history to give Teremun a sense of his roots and his belonging. Memories and history to save in his mind during his stay in England. Days full of mosques, bazaars, museums, the citadel, Old Cairo, churches, tombs, the pyramids and children’s parties and games. Their busy days kept their minds clear of the coming change in their lives. It was only in the late evening that Hidayah’s mind would contemplate what was ahead. At least Teremun’s immediate future was planned, unlike hers. As each day passed without news of her destiny, her late evenings became more difficult.
Four weeks before Teremun’s due date for departure on 2nd September, a letter arrived from the office of the Sultan. Due to the dangers posed by German warships to passenger ships in the Mediterranean Sea and Atlantic Ocean, Teremun would now leave for England from Port Said aboard a Royal Navy battleship. The HMS Jupiter was returning to England for a re-fit after serving with the Suez Canal Fleet. It was considered a much safer way to travel by the Sultan’s office. He would travel in the company of Mr. A. M. Huntsmith, a diplomatic attaché also returning the London. Mr. Huntsmith would be responsible for accompanying Teremun to his new school in London after they docked in Plymouth. His new travel documents were enclosed. He would leave in the company of Mr. Huntsmith on the evening of the 17th August from Cairo for the eighty mile overnight road journey to Port Said. As the sailing dates for the Royal Navy were never disclosed, he would board the HMS Jupiter after Mr. Huntsmith was advised in Port Said. No other details were given.

The tears welled in Hidayah’s eyes, but held them back as best she could. Breathing deeply, admonishing herself for her weakness. She had to be strong now, not only for herself, but for Teremun. And also in the eyes of her employer. It would not place her in good stead if she was seen to
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