‘What can I do?’ ‘The salad’s in the fridge, and needs to be tossed with the dressing, on the door in the cruet with the red band around its n...ck.’ He slipped the broiler pan into the oven and closed the door part way, then turned up the broiler. ‘I have to apologize,’ he said. ‘Dr. Hill doesn’t keep a wine cellar, and I didn’t get a chance to stop except at the grocery store. All I have to serve with dinner is beer.’ ‘Beer’s fi…wait! Where’s my bag? I brought a bottle of burgundy, figuring it. But I was no longer John Joseph Heyward, I was Jackson Edward Carstairs, and it was as Carstairs that I answered the knock, throwing open the door.A smallish middle-aged man stood outside, dressed in a suit that my newly acquired fashion sense told me was probably from a discount house. Uniformed police flanked him. He frowned at me a little, and consulted a paper in his hand."Umm ... we're looking for Mr. Carstairs," he said hesitantly."You have found him," I said is my most courtly Charleston. Mistress simply called,"Go!"i backed off looking for a weapon that would do more than just tickle Maddy. i also realised that four inch heels are not the best thing to fight in; cursing, i wished i'd selected those flat-soled sandals instead. Before i'd even selected a weapon, Maddy hit me on the jaw with a proper, manlike punch. (As I had suspected, Maddy decided against using a weapon; she prefers just using her fists and getting in the first blow!) i don't remember too much of what happened. His feet were big, broad, and beautiful. In anticipation of his visit I had bought a cake and had a pot of coffee on the brew.Before his work got underway, I invited him into the kitchen to enjoy the refreshments I had arranged. As we sat at the table enjoying the coffee and cake, Gerald told me about his life. That is when I heard the full story about his father, and why he never drank alcohol. The second revelation that intrigued me was that he had a gay brother. But his story didn’t end.