Page 79 of The Good Neighbour
Ultimately, Josh would love Tuck to have its own boutique and he had Jean-Paul in his sights to run it. He would be amazing. That was a little way down the road and he had no intention of letting the excitable shop assistant know what his plans were. He would never stop nagging Josh.
“I’m late,” he said. “You can kiss my arse another time or should I outsource that to Sidney too?”
Instantly, Jean-Paul went crimson.
“Haha, you do fancy him,” Josh said.
“I do not. Don’t be so ridiculous.”
“Sure. Tell your face that.”
Josh pinched his cheek before dashing out of the door and up the little street of shops. Winter was almost upon them. It wouldn’t be long until all the windows were full of Christmas spirit.
Winston had never been a fan of the holidays. He’d always insisted on going away to the Caribbean. Josh hadn’t asked Hugh what his plans were. It might be nice to spend his first London Christmas for a while with Hugh.
There was something about being cold at this time of year that felt right. Although with Hugh being Australian, it was probably completely different for him.
Perhaps he would design something for Hugh as a Christmas present. Josh itched to make another drag outfit so that would be the perfect excuse. Maybe not a Mrs Wimpole suit. He wanted to flex his muscles. Bring some of his edginess of Cut into the mix.
As he walked to the rehearsal space, he stared in shop windows for inspiration. By the time he reached the nondescript door he was torn between a Madeline-style maxi dress or a full-on corseted gown. He would discreetly sound Hugh out.
To be fair, I’ll probably make both.
He pulled the black door open and made his way up the stairs. The whole place had seen better days, that was for sure.
The dull sound of muffled piano playing came from a room above him. Hugh had mentioned they were getting one of his friends over to run through some potential new numbers.
He pushed the next door open and went into the main room. It was in the eaves of the building and huge. They were above an estate agents. Luckily they had a floor between them. Hughhad told him this was used for storage so there was no danger of disturbing the customers.
Hugh and Michael stood at the piano manned by a pleasant-looking chap. Hugh beamed when he saw Josh come in.
“Take a seat,” he said, pointing at a threadbare old sofa in the corner. “We’ll take it from the top and you can tell us what you think.”
Michael gave him a wave as did the pianist. Josh threw his coat off and flopped down on the sofa.
Just as they had launched into an up-tempo ditty that appeared to be called Dick Ins, Josh’s phone began to vibrate. When he fished it out of his pocket, his heart raced. It was Winston.
Fuck.
He hadn’t heard anything from him since the studio ambush. Josh had dared to hope that he’d given up and fucked off to Nice. Evidently, Josh wasn’t that lucky. He let it go to answer machine and pocketed the phone again. He had nothing to say and certainly wouldn’t be engaging with Winston when Hugh was in the vicinity.
The song came to an end. Josh stood up and clapped. They had managed to fit in a whole host of Dickens references. The Professor would be tickled pink.
“Very good,” he said.
He walked over to Hugh and kissed him on the cheek.
“Do you really think so?” Hugh asked.
His face lit up like a child on Christmas morning.
“I do,” Josh replied. “This is going to be a wonderful show. How long now?”
“Two weeks until previews,” Michael said. “Time’s ticking.”
“We always fly by the seat of our pants. We’ll do it,” Hugh replied.
They were opening in Newcastle in the run-up to Christmas. Josh had to admit to himself that it would be sad to lose Hugh from next door. It had been nice and handy. They hadn’t even spoken about where Hugh would live on his return from tour. That was months away. They had plenty of time for those kinds of discussions.
