I felt in desperate need of a good story from the old days, and ET's "A Kindred Hand" which had just been posted to [proslib] Mailing List @ Yahoo! groups sounded just about right. I haven't finished it yet, so I cannot say whether it's really good, but I seem to remember the author positively.

Anyway, the point of this following post was another:

"This is Gupshill Manor. Is that Mr. Bodie?"

Doyle's head came up. "Uh, no, it isn't. He's not here at the moment."

"Oh." There was hesitation in the voice. "Well, would it be possible for you to give Mr. Bodie a message, please?"

"Yeah, sure," Doyle replied, puzzling over the name.

"Could you just tell him that there's been a banking error this month and we received two contributions from him instead of one. Oh, and could you also tell him that it won't be convenient for him to visit next week. We've got something of a medical crisis."

"Yes... yes. I'll tell him. Gupshill Manor, you said?" he asked, hoping for more information.

"That's right. He'll know. Thank you very much."

Doyle replaced the receiver and stared at it, perplexed, wondering who they were and why on earth Bodie should be paying them money and visiting them.

allaire: "I bet Gupshill Manor is a super-secret gay sex club! With whips, chains, leather... oooh, Bodie in leather! In leather pants! And Doyle follows him in secret, and sneaks in, and..."

The story's Cowley a few paragraphs later: "Gupshill is a children's home."

allaire, defeated: "Drat!"

I read too much kink. Mea culpa.