She opened the door, waving me into the room."This is our reception room. The three of us spend evenings together in here when we are not out, or when...entertaining in our own rooms. She pointed to a comfy looking armchair. "Please, — take a seat, Mister Desmond." Des. Please call me Des," I said, nearly disappearing in the cushioned comfort of the chair.She perched on the arm of a sofa. "Gemma said you would probably call in..." Where is she?" I interrupted her, and I saw a glint of annoyance. I had to. Some of it at least, otherwise I may have ended up drowning. “Just look at you, boy. You’re a total mess. We’d better get some of that cleaned up.”And with that unnerving statement, causing me to open my eyes to tear-blurred vision, I saw his dark hulking figure stoop down and pluck a can from my very own basket.“This should do just nicely,” he said, “It resembles what will happen in the future.”I then heard the peel-click of a ring-pull, before the cool amber fluid of ginger beer. More

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