Prodigal local

Back in the 1970s when I was a boy living in the old family house in Torquay, Devon, England, a stranger walked off the street down the path at the side of the house and into our large garden where I was kicking a ball around. I asked him " May I help you?" He replied : "Forgive me wandering in but I wanted to have a look at the old place. I lived here until I was about 4, when we moved to America. It's my first time back in the UK." My father was a local GP and had his family medical practice in our home. It was a large Victorian house with 3 stories built in the 1880s with a large walled garden. I invited the smartly dressed gentleman in his late 50s to come have a look inside his old home, so took him into the breakfast room. He introduced himself to my mother and father and gave them a short summary of his being there. Sat at the table were friends of my parents, Jim Crawford (retired ex Brit Navy) and his wife Dorothea ( a raven-haired Californian concert pianist from Carlsbad, Calif.) on holiday in UK for 4 weeks When Dorothea asked the stranger, whereabouts in the States he lived, he replied "New York" Dorothea then said "Oh....I only know ONE person in New York. A #### #### who works as a ###### and lives in ######. The stranger looked slightly stunned and replied : "I was having dinner with him just last week." None of us knew what to say so we all had a nice cup of tea.