Chapter 7

CHAPTER SEVEN

The week passed quickly. After much deliberation, Josh and Hugh decided to go to the party as Barbie and Ken from the Barbie movie. Unfortunately, the work of creating the outfits had to be left to Josh. Hugh and Michael were working with some other writers in the West End in the day and had picked up a week's residency in a pub south of the river.

"I bet you didn't mind measuring him up," Suzanne said as she cut some lurid pink lycra.

Josh shrugged. "It was a necessary evil."

They were in the studio where they'd spent most of the week. The collection was coming on nicely so he'd persuaded Suzanne to help him make two pink and green roller-skating outfits. Hugh said that he'd find Josh a peroxide wig so that he'd make the perfect Ken.

Suzanne had leapt at the chance for a bit of fun.

"Thanks for helping me," Josh said.

"Martha and Sidney could have done this, you know."

They worked from home in a flat by the river. Suzanne had told him all about it. They lived to create clothes. This would come in very handy.

"That's taking the piss. It's hardly Cut work," Josh said. "Truth be told, I'd been worrying."

"About what?"

"That I can still make clothes. It's been a long time."

Josh had always made a point of making the prototype garments himself. To create the curves meant the design spoke to him. It told him what needed to be improved on.

"You're a fucking maestro on that machine," Suzanne said. "I doubt very much that's changed."

He beamed at her. Spending so much time with Suzanne over the past few days had been fun.

"I'm sorry?—"

"If you're going to apologise for leaving me alone again, I'm going home. I thought we agreed that was all done with. We're looking to the future."

They shared a glance over the cutting-out table that sat in the corner of the studio. Another grey London day soaking people going about their business. The downpour drummed against the roof. Josh loved dramatic weather.

"Talking of looking to the future," Suzanne said. "I have news."

"What's that?"

"Polly's pregnant."

Josh nearly dropped his scissors. "What? I had no idea."

Suzanne nodded. "We've been keeping it quiet until we passed the three-month mark. There's been a couple of setbacks."

Josh ran round the table and pulled her into a bear hug. "Oh, darling. I'm so pleased for you. How is she?"

Suzanne's eyes filled with tears. "She's doing fine. We're both so fucking excited."

He hugged her again.

"Now I get why you were so worried when she went to Scotland."

Suzanne nodded. "I know I need to calm the fuck down but I'm shitting myself. April can't come quick enough."

"Fuck. What a week this is proving to be," Josh said. "Why don't you go home and be with her. I can do this."

Suzanne shook her head. "She's working late tonight. You have me all to yourself."

"Then I'm a lucky man."

He resumed his position at the table and continued to cut out strips of fabric. The rain was still hammering away. A glimmer of happiness washed over Josh. He might not know where things were going with Hugh. Regardless of that, he definitely had a better grip on his own life now. It was a nice feeling.

"So…" Suzanne said. "Have you heard from Hugh today?"

"Yeah, I got a text," Josh replied, trying to sound as unbothered as possible. "The sessions with this writer aren't going well. The tour isn't too far away and I think they're genuinely worried."

"And the gig?"

"It's more hosting the evening so they don't get a chance to try any of their material. It's probably for the best until they've perfected it."

Suzanne held up the outline for Josh's board shorts.

"Perfect," Josh said.

She moved over to the sewing machine to bring the whole thing together.

"What are they going to do?" she asked as she grabbed a tub of pins.

"It appears that Operation Madeline is their only hope."

He was creating a one-piece swimsuit that Hugh would wear over bright pink cycling shorts. The fabric matched the board shorts that Suzanne had volunteered to make.

"Are you going to warn her?"

Josh had been mulling this over ever since Hugh had told him of his and Michael's plans.

"I think I have to. She's been amazing to me. If she gets wind that I played a part in it, she might be really hurt."

"Best of luck," Suzanne replied. "I wouldn't want to get on the wrong side of Madeline Morrison."

Josh had received a tongue lashing from her once in his life. He had designed a dress for her and got the measurements all mixed up. She had gone apoplectic. They had agreed to keep their work lives separate after that. She still wore his clothes but commissions were a no-go.

"She's calling in on her way back from a photo shoot," Josh said. "I'm dreading it."

Suddenly, Josh's phone rang.

"I wonder if it's lover boy," Suzanne said.

He stared down at his phone.

"Oh fuck," he yelped. "It's Winston."

"Are you kidding?"

With a shaking hand, he pressed Answer.

"Hello."

" Bonjour , husband of mine."

Winston was slurring his words. This meant trouble.

"You remembered then."

"Course I did," Winston replied. "Did you get the letter?"

Josh caught Suzanne's eye. Sensing the danger, she scuttled round to him and grabbed hold of his hand.

"Yes."

"Then do something about it," Winston sneered.

Each word stabbed Josh in the chest. "I thought we should talk first."

"About what? If it makes it any better, I had them draft it before I even got my diagnosis."

He couldn't believe his ears.

Josh heard another man speaking French in the background.

"You're not alone then?"

Winston cackled. "Not since I left you, no. Let's not drag this out. I don't want anything except this place and maybe a few bits and pieces. You can have the old mausoleum on that shitty boring street. I'm done with London. I won't make a claim if we get the show on the road. Get a lawyer and I'll send over my list."

He had it all figured out.

"Fine," Josh said. "If it's what you want."

"It is."

The phone went dead and Josh dropped to the floor. Suzanne knelt and wrapped her arms around him.

"Let it out," she soothed.

Sobs wracked Josh's body. "He's a bastard," he said.

Suzanne kissed the top of his head. "Yes, I'm afraid he is."

"Who's a bastard?"

They both spun round to see Madeline standing at the top of the stairs. She looked fabulous in a Burberry trench coat and flared black trousers. Her hair was up and her makeup flawless.

She stalked over to them. Josh allowed Suzanne to help him up.

"Who do you think?"

"Not fucking Winston?"

Josh nodded miserably.

"I think I'll leave you to it," Suzanne said, grabbing her bag.

"Don't leave on my account," Madeline replied. "If it's to do with that piece of shit, it may be a two-woman job."

Suzanne patted her on the shoulder, causing her to wince. Madeline didn't encourage physical contact after a few incidents from roaming hands.

"I can't think of any situation where you'd need backup," Suzanne said. "There's vodka in the freezer."

Madeline positively glowed. "Thank you. Have a wonderful evening."

Even though his heart had been ripped out and stamped on, Josh saw the funny side of the situation. There was no denying that the woman before him would make a wonderful drag parody.

As Suzanne made a hasty retreat, she gave him a thumbs-up. He nodded.

"What did he say then?" Madeline asked as she retrieved the vodka.

Josh wandered over to the kitchen area. "He wants a quick divorce."

"I'll find you the best lawyer, darling," she said. "That miserable little worm won't get a penny more than possible."

Josh nodded. "Thanks. Listen, Madeline…"

"What?"

The atmosphere had gone decidedly chilly and it wasn't coming from the vodka.

"Ouch," he said, holding up a glass.

She violently ripped the top off the bottle. "That is your tone when you have something bad to say to me. Let me get a drink first."

He held up both glasses as she filled them and handed her one.

"No mixers."

"None required. Go on then."

Josh took a breath. "You know that guy who's housesitting for Jeannie?"

"The one that's put a smile on your face? Yes, I know of him."

"Well, he's in the shit professionally."

She took a sip of vodka and winced. "That's right. The poor unfortunate who overshadowed my interview."

"That's the one. Well, he's on the hunt for inspiration."

Madeline frowned. "And what has that got to do with me?"

Realisation dawned on her face and she clutched her chest.

"He wants to make a drag character of me?"

"You don't mind?"

"Mind? This is wonderful. When the drag queens parody you, you've really made it. Cheers."

"Do I really have to sit out here?" Josh asked.

He was perched at the top of Jeannie's stairs. Hugh had left him a cushion. Even so, his back was stiffening up and he realised how ridiculous he looked in lurid board shorts and vest.

"Yes, "Hugh called back. "I want you to get the full effect. I'm nearly done."

Josh shifted again. It was no use. He was getting too old to be sitting on the floor. Forty was looming. He shuddered.

"How long have you been at it?"

"Three hours," Hugh replied.

"Are you kidding me?"

Hugh had left the door open with express instructions Josh was to remain at the top of the stairs.

"Art takes time you know."

That was something Josh had experience with. As an annoying perfectionist, he could mull for hours over stitching and fabric choice.

"Take as long as you like," he said. "My back's got another half an hour in it."

It appeared he wouldn't need it as the door slowly opened. Josh got to his feet and took in the whole vision.

Hugh towered over him in platform trainers. A massive blonde wig gave him even more height. It was done in an oversized high ponytail with bright pink bow. Josh took a step forward. Hugh's make up was outstanding, down to the glittery pink lipstick.

"Fuck," Josh said.

"Do you like?"

Josh could see anxiety in Hugh's eyes.

"You look incredible."

Club C had been decorated to the nines. Rodrigo, who owned the place, had spared no expense. All the tables were covered in white cloths with crystal-encrusted pumpkins in the centre. Bright green cocktails were served by bar staff made up as alarmingly realistic zombies.

The music was suitably spooky. A few people were already on the dancefloor doing the Monster Mash.

"Wow," Hugh said. "Look."

He pointed to the ceiling from which action figures from all manner of films were suspended. Upon closer inspection, they had also been given the undead treatment.

"Hey, Barbie. Hey, Ken."

They turned to find Josh's neighbour and Rodrigo's partner, Simon Harrington, approaching dressed as Han Solo.

"You look great," Josh said, hugging him. "Can I introduce you to Hugh Mottram."

Simon stared up at Hugh. "Bloody hell. Margot Robbie's got nothing on you."

"Thank you," Hugh replied, giving a curtsey. "I try."

Simon glanced at Josh and beamed. "Seems like a good pairing to me."

Josh reddened even though Hugh had insisted he wear a thick foundation to get the perfect sun-kissed Ken effect.

"Han Solo? No prizes for guessing who came up with that idea," Josh said, eager to get the spotlight off him.

Simon's young son, Luca, was a huge Star Wars fan. Most of the residents of Queens Crescent were used to seeing them having lightsabre battles in the gardens opposite their houses.

"He was disappointed that he wasn't allowed to come," Simon explained. "So we let him choose our costumes."

"Don't tell me Rodrigo is in a metal bikini," Josh replied. "It's a little cold for that."

Simon cackled. "Not quite. Luca went easy on him. He's Obi Wan."

The room was filling up with iconic characters from Hollywood. Josh was glad that he had made their outfits and they fitted like gloves. Some people had obviously hired theirs and they were hanging off them.

"Hey, hey, hey."

Another of Josh's neighbours, Alexander Fitzwilliam, approached them as Rose from Titanic . His partner, Zac Caton, followed dutifully as Jack.

"Oh wow," Hugh said. "That dress is exquisite."

"Thanks," Alexander replied. "I had it made."

Hugh inspected the dress with his expert eye. "You can tell. It's fabulous."

Alexander did a spin, evidently enjoying the attention.

"This place looks amazing," Zac said to Simon. "Rodrigo has really outdone himself."

"You have no idea the amount of planning that has gone into it all," Simon replied. "Just wait until you see the body part finger food."

They all burst out laughing.

"I won't be eating," Hugh said. "This lycra is stretched to capacity already."

"I can see that," Alexander replied, glancing at Hugh's crotch.

Josh had also noticed the sizeable bulge and had suggested a silver bumbag. Hugh had seemed unconcerned about his grand reveal.

"I couldn't be bothered tucking tonight," he explained.

"If you've got it, flaunt it," Alexander said, staring directly at Josh.

Before he could reply, the doors burst open and Madeline Morrison swept in. She looked incredible as Morticia. The black dress she had on clung to every curve and her makeup positively glowed. Although most people were used to celebrities, something about Madeline commanded every room she found herself in. Whether it was a movie premiere or the local smoothie shop.

"Shit," Alexander said. "Now that's an entrance."

Hugh practically had stars in his eyes.

Josh supposed that Operation Madeline was officially on.

Mercury and Nick followed her into the room in old-school Batman and Robin garb.

"Will you introduce me?" Hugh whispered.

Josh didn't really have much choice. Before he had a chance to make their excuses, someone grabbed hold of his hand.

"Joshua, how wonderful to see you here."

"Mrs Wimpole!"

She was dressed as Mary Poppins. The perfect costume for the doyenne of Queens Crescent. The Professor lurked behind her as Indiana Jones.

"Looking great, Mrs W."

"Thank you, Alexander," she replied, beaming. "And who do we have here?"

She stared directly at Hugh. Josh shuddered.

"Hugh Mottram," he said. "I'm housesitting for Jeannie Butler."

Mrs Wimpole frowned. "I didn't know about that. You must be very good at staying under the radar."

It was unheard of for things to happen on their street without her knowledge.

"Welcome to our little world," the Professor said, shaking Hugh's hand.

No matter what happened, Mrs Wimpole and the Professor seemed to find themselves in the thick of it. Most of the couples attending the party had been given a helping hand by one or both of them.

"Josh has been giving me a running commentary," Hugh said. "You are lucky to live in such a wonderful place. Wherever I've lived in London, neighbours are like strangers."

"Then you must enjoy the time you spend with us," Mrs Wimpole said, patting his arm. "I've lived here all my life and Queens Crescent has always been a very special place. My goodness, the stories I could tell."

As she began to launch into one of her monologues, the famous Formula One drivers Charles Worthington and Luis Salvatore beckoned her from the bar.

"Oh, I'd better go and say hello," she said. "Joshua, please tell me who they are supposed to be."

He frowned. "I think they're the characters from Zoolander ."

Mrs Wimpole shrugged. "If it was made after the nineties, I have no idea. Come along, Professor."

She dragged her partner in crime over to the bar. Hugh couldn't take his eyes off her.

"Do you want me to take you over to Madeline?" Josh asked.

"Madeline who?" Hugh replied. "Fancy another drink?"

Before Josh answered, Hugh followed Mrs Wimpole and the Professor.

"Why are you so worried?" Zac asked Josh.

"I think I may have found myself in even more hot water than I first thought."

He turned to find Madeline had glided up to him.

"Didn't he want an introduction?" she said, staring over Josh's head to the bar.

Josh followed her gaze. Hugh had joined Mrs Wimpole and was making her giggle like a schoolgirl.

"I think you may have been gazumped."