Page 86 of The Good Neighbour

“Hugh,” Josh shouted.

It appeared he wasn’t going to be stopped. With remarkable calm he walked to the stairs and straight down. Not once did he look back.

Winston had a smug expression on his face that Josh would quite happily wipe off with the back of his hand.

“Get out,” he said through gritted teeth. “Whatever love I had for you is gone. I never want to see you again, you rotten piece of shit.”

Winston shrugged. “It was only going to be until after the film came out anyway. The PR person thought it would look good if you were hanging off my arm in that annoying manner that you do.”

No words that Winston could throw at him would hurt him anymore than the last few minutes had.

“Even if you showed up with Madeline Morrison, Nicole Kidman and Margot Robbie, no one would go and see your ego project.”

Josh fired the words like bullets. Winston went pale. Josh had never spoken to him like that before.

“I’m taking my share of Cut,” he returned.

“No you’re not,” Josh replied. “The small print says you have the shares or the cash equivalent. Sorry.”

“You don’t have those readies,” Winston said with a scornful glare.

Josh took a deep breath. It was time to play his trump card and get this malignancy out of his life once and for all.

“I’m putting Queens Crescent on the market. So I repeat. Get dressed and get the fuck out of my life.”

Winston stormed into the bathroom and slammed the door behind him.

Josh pulled his phone out and dialled Hugh’s number. He prayed to everything that Hugh would actually answer.

“Josh.”

That has to be a good sign. Doesn’t it?”

“Please come back. Winston is going as soon as he’s put his clothes on.”

He knew how bad that sounded and winced.

“I have no desire to see him again or you for that matter. I answered for one reason,” Hugh said, coldly. “I’ll be going to rehearse in Newcastle from tomorrow. Don’t ring my doorbell tonight. I won’t answer. I can’t do this anymore. I’m going to focus on the tour. At least I have a chance with that.”

The line went dead before Josh had even formed any words in response.

He had to hold it together. There was no way that Josh would give Winston the satisfaction of seeing how deeply he’d wounded him.

Then Suzanne appeared at the top of the stairs holding up two carrier bags.

“Food and wine. Yes, you can bow at my feet.”

Her words petered out when she saw his face.

“What—”

With impeccable timing, Winston opened the bathroom door. Poor Suzanne dropped both bags.

“Oh, hello Suzanne,” Winston said. “How lovely to see you again.”

He turned to Josh. His eyes full of venom.

“I suppose I’ll have to wait to call your bluff.”