Hi guys! This is my first attempt at a story with a first person narrative. If I get good feedback I will do chapter 2.

So this was it. My home for the next 3 years. As our car drove up the long gravel drive to Red Roof Boarding School, I closed my eyes and imagined myself back home with mother, snuggled up on the sofa reading a book. It was hard to think that I would never see her or my father again.

The car came to an abrupt halt in a large car park at the back of the cold victorian building.

"Right," said Rupert. "We are here."

I am extremely lucky to have Rupert, before my mother and father died he was our butler, and in the few months since their demise he has cared for me since I have no other relatives. However, it was my parents request that if they ever died I would attend a boarding school until I was 18, and Red Roof was meant to be one of the best in the country.

I thanked Rupert and stepped out of the car. We exchanged awkward goodbyes and he drove of, leaving me standing alone in the empty car park.

The sky was overcast with dark clouds and it had started to drizzle, soaking through my hair and blouse.

I shivered and walked with quick pace towards the school entrance. The entire building was made with sturdy cold grey bricks and I tried to remove all thoughts from my mind that it looked like a prison.

Inside, the interior wasn't anything exciting, the same as any British private school I had ever visited.

Suddenly, a plump strict looking woman appeared from behind me and startled me so much I almost fell over.

"You must be Georgia," she said, looking me up and down with her thin lips pursed.

"I'm Mrs Black, the headmistress of Red Roof. We were expecting you to arrive fourteen minutes ago."

I was taken aback by her harsh tone of voice. I could tell it would not be good getting on Mrs Black's bad side.

"I'm sorry Mrs Black, ma'am, we got stuck in traffic." I said apologetically.

"Well," she said in an annoyed tone of voice,"We don't appreciate lateness and disorganisation at Red Roof school, so try to always be on time from now on."

"Yes ma'am," I said, trying to hide how much I disliked her already.

She lead me to a classroom where all the other new students were seated, being lectured on the school rules. There were 5 other new year 10 students, and I sat down next to a grumpy looking tall boy at the back of the classroom.

He was doodling on the back of an exercise book, fast, complicated patterns. He saw that I was looking at him and turned to face me.

"Hi." he said, holding out an ink stained hand for me to shake. "I'm Sherlock Holmes."

"Georgia Ardingly," I said, shaking his hand. "Sherlock is an odd name."

"I know," he sighed, running his fingers through his curly black hair. "I hope I don't get to much crap about it at this school."

"So why did you move school?" I said, interested in the oddly good looking boy with the funny sounding name.

"Got in trouble for deducing the headmaster was having an affair with a student and telling everybody. Nobody believed me but I knew I was right." he grinned.

"Deduced?" I said.

"Yes, I have amazingly accurate skills of deduction and observation."

"Prove it," I smiled.

"You see that girl over there?" he whispered, pointing at a sad looking redhead in the corner. "Her parents are divorced."

I shook my head. "You can't tell that by just looking at her."

"See what she's wearing around her wrist? That bracelet is solid white gold, it must have cost a small fortune. And yet her clothes are cheap looking and her shoes look like they are from a charity shop, not to mention her pencil case is a Tesco freezer lead me to wonder how she received the expensive bracelet, if she is quite poor. She is fiddling with it as if she is guilty about having it, but she obviously didn't shoplift it because something like that would be impossible to steal, as well as the fact she looks like a reasonably well behaved girl. I believe that she was given it as a gift from her rich mother to buy her love after a divorce that prevented her from seeing her child for a long time, while she lives with her poor father. She is guilty about owning it because it had caused a row between her two divorced parents."

"How do you know she lives with her father?" I said, amazed.

But before he had time to answer, Mrs Black strode back into the room, asking us to follow her to unpack our belongings in our new rooms.

As we followed her down the corridors, I walked next to the redheaded girl.

"I'm sorry if this is impolite, but may I ask, did your parents recently divorce?"

"Yes," she said, shocked. "How did you know?"