Page 46 of The Good Neighbour

“Well. Yes.”

The world could have stopped spinning and Josh would have been fixated on Mrs Wimpole’s response to this.

When she clapped her hands together, all three men jumped.

“Oh, I’m tickled pink,” she cried.

Josh, Hugh and Jean-Paul all visibly relaxed.

“Really?” Hugh replied.

She took hold of his hands and squeezed them. Her whole demeanour glowing.

“Are you going to create a drag version of the Professor as well?”

Hugh giggled. “Absolutely. Tweed two-piece, crazy hair and endless Dickens puns.”

“Oh, I love it. And what about me?”

Josh hoped Hugh realised they were still on shaky ground. He prayed Hugh wouldn’t get carried away.

“Immaculate hair, perfectly styled, a wealth of interesting stories and a thirst for knowledge that knows no bounds.”

She appraised. “You’re good, I’ll give you that.”

Hugh let her hands go and picked out the ivory suit. “What do you think?”

She examined it with a keen eye. “It’s very nice but you’re right, Jean-Paul, I would always go for a jazzier colour. Especially if I were to find myself on stage.”

“I told you,” Jean-Paul said to Josh.

“What about the green or the blue?” Hugh said, grabbing them and holding them both up.

His face alive. Josh beamed. Hugh was always handsome. When he got this fired up, it went to another level.

“How about you firm up your ideas and come for tea?” Mrs Wimpole suggested. “Joshua, you are very welcome to attend too. It’s so nice to see you making new friends.”

The loaded stare that followed those words left Josh convinced that she would want to know exactly what had been going on between them. She might be well informed but Mrs Wimpole could also be trusted.

“We’d love it,” Hugh said.

Mrs Wimpole headed toward the door before turning to them.

“Just to be clear, you were going to speak to Ms Morrison. Then came to me?”

“That’s right,” Hugh said.

A glimmer of a smile crossed Mrs Wimpole’s face.

“How very amusing.”

With that Mrs Wimpole gave her farewells and headed off in search of more problems that needed fixing. As the Chair of the Queens Parade Committee, she patrolled the area regularly.

“That was a close call,” Jean-Paul said. “I’ll get the laptop. I think we’re going to have to put a lot more work into this.”

He disappeared into the storeroom behind the counter.

Hugh whistled. “Fuck me,” he said. “I could rehearse for a year and I don’t think I’d get that stare right.”