Finding treasures

The house move packing is stepping up and we’re getting to some of my mum’s stuff that’s been stashed away for years. Today she gave me a little storybook that I remember so well from my childhood. I didn’t know that the author was my great uncle, who I never met. He sounds like a fantastically interesting man who lived with his male partner, Tav; apparently my mum’s family were completely accepting of him as a gay man. I bet he spoke Polari. My mum (with her dad) even met some their friends in the 1940s. Edgar worked for the British Council teaching English as a foreign language in Syracuse in the 1930s and possibly the late 40s/early ‘50s. It seems that this was the only book he wrote, but I’m keen to find out more about him when I get home. The illustrator may have been Tav, as my mum never knew his real name.