Chapter 6

CHAPTER SIX

As Josh stepped over the threshold of The Cut Store, he realised it had been nearly a year since he'd been there in person. A flash of shame swept over him. It was just around the corner from home.

" Mon dieu! "

Instantly he found himself dragged into a bear hug by Jean-Paul. The handsome store assistant with the impossibly perfect blow-dry. He always dressed sharply too. Today he was sporting a black suit and a crisp white shirt. A bright-pink tie gave the outfit a slick of colour.

He stepped back and looked Josh up and down. Evidently, he was being scrutinised at the same time. Thank goodness he'd made an effort in a nice pair of jeans and blue-striped shirt.

"It has been far too long," Jean-Paul said. "How are you?"

"I'm okay," Josh replied.

He was beginning to wonder if this had been a good idea. Being thrust into the spotlight like this made him want to run home as fast as his legs would carry him.

"Jean-Paul, give him space to breathe."

Helga raced forward and shooed her overexcited sales assistant away. He adored this woman. In her mid-fifties, Helga loved life. She had her blonde hair piled up on her head and looked sensational in a pair of black trousers and black polo neck.

"Darling, it's so good to see you."

Of course, Helga had visited him at home. The way they were carrying on, anyone would think he'd re-appeared after being on the missing list for months.

He gave her a hug. They'd been in business together for nearly a decade. He'd been a relatively new designer when they'd met at an industry event and immediately hit it off. Her other shop had been floundering when the place beneath Josh's studio came free. Once they'd joined forces, everything had taken off.

"Good to see you too. How are things going?"

Helga let him survey the shop.

"It's going well. The new collection has done okay."

She moved closer to him.

"It's missing that Winterton spark. Are you back for good?"

Josh nodded. "I think it's time. Is Suzanne upstairs?"

"She certainly is. Do you want coffees?"

"Oh God yes," Josh replied.

"Jean-Paul," Helga barked.

The handsome assistant popped his head up from behind a rail of dresses.

" Oui?"

"Can you go to the Bluebird. Let's have coffee and pastries all round."

"Roger that."

He went into the rear of the shop that held the storeroom and a little kitchen area.

"He's still a runaway train of excitement," Josh remarked.

"Some things never change. Go on, I'll bring your mid-morning treat up when he gets back."

Josh kissed Helga on the cheek. "Thank you. I know it's been hard not having me around."

She squeezed his hand. "You've been through hell. We'll get things on the straight and narrow. Don't you worry. How about we grab an hour later to talk about complementing lines?"

From the very beginning they had agreed that the boutique wouldn't be exclusively stocked with Josh's designs. Instead, they selectively curated stock that complemented his creations.

He made his way upstairs to find Suzanne poring over one of the two huge drawing boards that dominated the first floor. When they'd taken over the building, it had been a little one-bedroomed flat like the other properties on the street. At that time Josh was on his ascent and he got builders in to take down every wall possible.

Then he created a decent-sized loft space that was perfect for designing and even running up prototypes of his creations. Once he was satisfied with the patterns, he would send them out to be made up professionally. Now they had their own dressmakers. Suzanne said it had made things so much easier. He had yet to test their abilities.

He threw his coat off and took a moment. He had dreaded coming here again, yet as soon as he stepped foot in the studio, he realised he'd missed being in this space. He might have kept his hand in remotely during Winston's illness, but there was nothing quite like being in the centre of it all.

"Well, who do we have here?" Suzanne said, leaning backwards and stretching.

"How are you doing?"

He kissed her on the cheek. He noticed some drawings in front of her. Neither of them had made the digital leap yet. They did touch-ups and things online but the initial sketch had to be done by hand.

"Are these the ideas for the new collection?" he asked.

She nodded. He peered over her shoulder and frowned. The designs were nice enough. They certainly were not Cut.

She must have caught his expression.

"What's the matter?" she snapped.

"Nothing," he replied, getting closer. "They're just…"

"Just what?"

"A little safe?"

He immediately realised he should have picked his words a little more carefully. Anger flashed across Suzanne's face and she took a step away from him.

"A little safe?" she repeated.

The tone in her voice suggested Josh had stepped way over the boundary.

"Suzanne—"

"No, I'm sorry, Josh," she said, her hands on her hips. "I've held the fort here for a bloody year and you come waltzing in here to tell me my designs are safe ?"

He reached out and held her hands. "Please forgive me," he replied. "I can't believe I even said that. I do appreciate everything you've done to keep this place running. Honestly, I do."

Her face softened a little. She pulled away from him and wound her fiery red curls up into a twist and skewered them in place with a pencil from the drawing board.

Josh wasn't sure if he had been forgiven or not. He would let her torture him. After all, he deserved it for coming in there and instantly slagging her work off.

"What do you mean by safe ?" she asked quietly.

He shrugged. "Nothing major. Maybe a slash here or a buckle there? Sex it up a bit."

Suzanne frowned at the drawing of a maxi dress in white linen. Already, Josh could see where he would bring it in tighter to accentuate the bust. He also was dying to get a split in it right up to the top of the thigh.

"I guess I'm not Josh Winterton," she said sadly.

"Hey now," he replied, squeezing her arm. "You have gone beyond the call of duty and I will be forever grateful. I wouldn't be Josh Winterton anymore if it wasn't for you."

She shook her head, a flicker of amusement on her face. "You're a smooth-talking bastard."

It appeared the crisis had been averted. Josh let a sigh of relief go. To lose Suzanne would be disastrous.

"How about you give it another go? Get some leg showing and shove up the bust?" Josh suggested.

"And what are you going to do?"

Josh leapt off his stool and went to his old drawing board opposite Suzanne. He might not have been there for quite some time but it had been left exactly how he liked to work. This touched his heart more deeply than he would have expected and again pangs of guilt for leaving his workforce to fend for themselves stabbed away at him.

"I'm going to come up with the masculine equivalent, of course."

"Now you're talking."

Before Winston's illness, this had been how they worked best. Usually, Josh would come up with a concept. Then they would do the first design separately before bringing them together. Josh had always produced a masculine and a feminine version of his ideas. It was his favourite way to express himself.

He had brought Suzanne on board because of her experience at designing for a rival gown couturier. She had accepted the role to diversify her approach. When they met in the middle, magic happened.

As he set about getting his workspace together, he glanced up and caught her watching him.

"I truly am sorry," he said. "Please don't ever think I don't appreciate what you've done for me."

"You've said that enough now," she replied. "I'm happy to have you here again. End of story."

The day went really well. He and Suzanne rediscovered their mojo that had been on the missing list for far too long. Emailing designs and discussing over Zoom calls were not the same as being across from each other. They had also found that their old jokes and funny stories were still as powerful as ever.

"I've really bloody missed you," Josh said. "Fancy a drink?"

Suzanne shook her head. "Polly's cooking dinner. It would be more than my life's worth to be late."

"She's back then?"

Suzanne nodded. "I missed her so much."

"Ugh, you're still sickeningly in love I see?"

"'Fraid so," she replied.

He mock-shivered. "Never again," he said.

She flung her arms around him and gave him a sloppy kiss on his cheek.

"Less of that talk. You're just too damned lovable to be alone for too long."

His mind went instantly to Hugh. The night they had shared had been wonderful and they hadn't even seen each other naked. Yet.

"Get off with you," he replied, wriggling free. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Suzanne blew him a kiss and left. He looked around the empty studio. The day he had moved in seemed like only yesterday. He'd had three collections under his belt and things were flying.

The shop downstairs had sold CDs in those days. It would be a few more years before Helga swooped in and grabbed it for her own.

No matter how much the failure of his marriage hurt him, nothing could take this away. He should have returned to work weeks ago.

He reached into his coat pocket for his phone. They'd been so engrossed in developing Suzanne's designs he hadn't checked it all day. That had to be a good sign.

His heart skipped when he saw that he had a message from Hugh.

"Hey, I'm back in the land of the living. Fancy calling in for a drink?"

Too bloody right, I do.

He packed up and after saying goodbye to Helga, set off home. On the way he called into the supermarket to grab a bottle of champagne and some chocolates. From when he was a child, his mother had drilled into him that showing up to someone's house empty-handed was the height of bad manners. Growing up in a thriving Caribbean community in Peckham, that had got very expensive indeed.

As he walked around the corner onto the street that had seen some of the best and worst times of his life, he had a spring in his step for the first time in ages.

He strode up to Jeannie's door and rang the bell.

Hugh beamed as he opened the door.

"The man himself," he said. "I was talking about you."

"Oh, yes?"

"Come in."

He led Josh down the hallway and into the kitchen where another man sat at the table. He must have been roughly the same age as Hugh. He was attractive as well. Nowhere near as much as Hugh. Although Josh suspected he might be a little biased already.

The other guy had dark hair that he kept very short. His tan skin had a slight streak to it which gave Josh suspicions that it came from a bottle rather than a sunbed. His skin also had a glow that suggested many products were involved. Even so, he had an air about him that exuded confidence.

"Michael, I presume," Josh said, holding out his hand.

"Very perceptive," Michael replied, shaking said hand.

Josh handed the carrier bag over to Hugh. "A welcome-home present."

Hugh peered inside. "Wow," he said. "Thank you. Take a seat and I'll have this bad boy opened in a jiffy."

Josh sat opposite Michael and watched Hugh busying himself around.

"So, Josh," Michael said. "What have you been doing today?"

"I went to work."

Hugh spun round, his face full of joy. "You really did it? Proud of you, mate."

"Thanks."

The heat that spread through Josh alarmed him. This man's approval meant a lot.

"Want to know what we've been doing?" Michael asked.

"Michael, you are so unsubtle it's embarrassing," Hugh chipped in. "Josh, ignore anything this one says."

Josh had met people like Michael before. Those who tried to disarm you with their attitude. There was only one way to survive. Fight fire with fire.

"I would love to know how you've spent the last few days, Michael," he said. "I hope the gig went well."

He and Hugh caught each other's eye. He wanted Hugh to realise that he might be fragile in certain areas of his life but not all. Something he had only found out that very day.

"It did. It appears we have some fans in Brighton, thankfully."

"Although it absolutely pissed down," Hugh added. "There's nothing more depressing than a seaside town in the winter."

"True," Josh said. "So come on, unburden yourself, Michael."

Michael grinned. "We've been watching Madeline Morrison movies while we were stuck in the hotel room."

Josh groaned. He still did not think this was a good idea.

"You're going on with this?" he said, more to Hugh than Michael.

"She's amazing," Hugh replied. He popped the champagne cork as punctuation.

"Can't you get us an introduction?" Michael asked.

Josh burst out laughing. "You want me to take you to her house so you can study her for a drag act? Absolutely not."

Hugh swatted Michael over the head.

"I told you not to listen to him."

"I'm beginning to see why."

Michael reddened. He obviously didn't like being ganged up on.

"We're in deep shit," he said. "Sorry for wanting to move things on a bit. Remember that tour that won't write itself?"

Hugh leant against the kitchen counter and sighed. The jovial atmosphere had disappeared from the room.

"Don't you have any other options?" Josh asked.

They both shook their heads.

"Our inspiration cupboard is having a Mother Hubbard moment," Michael replied. "That little shit calling us out of date has fucked things up royally. Bastard."

Silence hung in the air.

"Okay," Josh said, putting his hands down on the table decisively.

"Yes?" Hugh and Michael said in unison.

"I've been invited to my friends Simon and Rodrigo's Halloween party at Club C. There's a plus one and I will extend it to you if you promise not to embarrass me."

Hugh dashed forward and kissed him on the cheek. "I promise. You are a superstar. Will she be there?"

"She will."

Hugh clapped his hands together.

"Only a plus one?" Michael asked.

"Sorry," Josh replied.

He wasn't. He wanted Hugh all to himself. If they proceeded down this path of using Madeline as inspiration, he would find a way of spinning it so that she would be flattered.

"Is it fancy dress?" Hugh asked.

"Shit," Josh replied. "It is and we've got four days to choose what we're going as and making it. The theme is Hollywood."

"Fucking bingo," Hugh replied and held his glass up.

Josh giggled. This was going to be fun.