Page 83 of The Good Neighbour

I really fucking hope not.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

“The love life of designer, Josh Winterton, is like something out of a soap opera. Recently he was seen out and about with fading drag queen, Hugh Mottram. Now he’s been photographed in the arms of his ex-husband.”

Hugh put his phone down and stared at Josh.

“You know very well I wasn’t in his arms. I left you to go and visit him.”

They were in Josh’s kitchen. The nice breakfast he had planned was going cold as another day of drama dawned.

Hugh rubbed the bridge of his nose. “’Fading drag queen’. Fucking brilliant.”

“Winston will have fucked off back to France now. We can weather this storm, Hugh.”

The wind was howling outside. It couldn’t have been more appropriate.

“If you say so.”

Josh leant forward and put his hand on Hugh’s arm. “Hey. I do say so.”

They’d both had a sleepless night. Hugh had been tossing and turning, which had kept Josh awake. Not that he cared.

“What are you doing today?” Josh asked.

“Rehearsing a show that no one wants to see. I don’t know if we’ll make it past the first few dates at this rate.”

Josh sipped his coffee. “Is it that bad?”

Hugh shrugged. “Some theatres are only half full. No doubt the press will have a field day. What a fucking mess. Anyway, I’m sick of talking about me. Are you going to set the fashion world on fire again soon?”

The collection was pretty much ready. Suzanne and Josh had spent most of their time pulling together an informal showing of their work. They had secured Club C for this afternoon shindig. They didn’t want a big catwalk or anything. Instead, they were booking ten models to wander around to give people the opportunity to see the garments close-up. Of course, there would be plenty of champagne and hors d’oeurves to make it worth everyone’s while.

“Friday,” Josh replied. “Any chance my favourite drag star will make an appearance.”

Hugh smiled sadly. “I’ll give RuPaul a call.”

Josh got up and straddled Hugh, resting his arms around his neck. He kissed him on the forehead. “You are my favourite and always will be.”

“Thank you,” Hugh said. “For everything. I really mean that.”

“No need. This is the best double act of your life, Hugh Mottram.”

“We’re nearly there, you know,” Josh said.

He stood back from the gown he was working on. Most designers ended with a bridal dress of some description. Josh had always gone for red carpet attire instead. Maybe he’d been a frustrated drag queen designer all along.

“Is Hugh coming?” Suzanne asked.

“Of course he is,” Josh snapped. “Why wouldn’t he?”

That came across as way too defensive.

“Sorry,” he added. “Bit tired.”

Suzanne peered around the piece she wanted to find jewellery to match.

“It’s all right. You’ve had a shit time lately,” she said. “At least knobhead has gone quiet. Let’s hope you’ll only hear from him through his lawyer now.”