Stuff (The Bristol Collection) (16 page)

“So I see. Perry isn’t helping?”

“He probably would if I went and asked, but the whole point of me doing this is for him to be able to spend more time on his artworks.”

“Why do you even care? You barely know the man.”

“That’s not true. I’ve got to know him really well over the last week, and he’s a lovely guy.”

“And you’re really not involved with him?”

“Define involved.”

“You know what I mean.” Lewis gave him such a penetrating look, Mas wanted to curl up and join Perry’s lust-beast behind the sofa. Instead he brazened it out.

“Okay, so we kissed. But that’s all so far. And I don’t know if there’ll even be a next time. I mean, he still thinks he’s straight, and I’m guessing this is all pretty confusing for him.”

“And how did he react to you kissing him?”

“Hey, he kissed me.”

Lewis raised his eyebrows.

“What? Why’s that so hard to believe? I’ve got the kind of looks straight boys go for. Pretty. Nonthreatening.”

“Okay, then, so how did he react after he’d kissed you?”

“Kind of freaked. Yeah, I know, it’s only to be expected, right? Thing is, I don’t really know the best way to handle this. I mean, I never had to go through all this figuring things out. It was easy for me, wasn’t it? I always knew I fancied boys. Never had to struggle my way through it.”

“You had to struggle against your upbringing, surely?”

“Oh yeah. I mean, there was all that religious crap, and I didn’t come out to my mum for ages, but I wasn’t going to waste my time beating myself up about the way I was. Do you think that’s what he’s doing then? Feeling guilty?”

“Are you asking me for my professional opinion?” Lewis looked about as surprised as he ever looked, which wasn’t more than a slight raised eyebrow. Not for the first time, Mas wondered why Jasper had fallen for someone so very difficult to read.

“Yep. If you’ve got anything useful for me, I could do with the advice.”

Lewis stared off into the distance for a moment, and Mas started to wonder if he’d left a dirty great cobweb hanging in the corner of the room. “It’s not exactly my area of expertise, but if he’s feeling threatened, then you need to take things very slowly. Lots of reassurance. Be there for him, but don’t push him. And be ready to listen carefully if he starts talking.”

“I always listen carefully.”

Lewis ignored his interruption. “And concentrate on being a friend. He’s going through a lot of upheaval both here in the shop and dealing with his sexuality. Don’t be surprised if he wants to keep some distance for a while. And be prepared for all kinds of buried emotions to start resurfacing. Don’t take it personally if he takes out some of them on you. I’ve been yelled at many a time while helping clients.”

“Seriously?”

“Physically threatened sometimes too.” Lewis rubbed his cheek, like he was remembering being slapped in the face or something.

“Blimey. Did Jasper ever do that?”

“You know I can’t discuss individual cases with you.”

“Yeah, but I’m not asking about a case, am I? I’m asking about my mate. Your boyfriend. Oh come on, don’t be a spoilsport. I tell you stuff about me and Jasper, don’t I?”

“And I’d really rather you didn’t.” Lewis pulled a funny expression, like he was sucking on a lemon but trying not to show how sour it was. “You tell me far more than I’m comfortable knowing.”

“Yeah, TMI. You’re not the first person to complain about that. But it’s healthier than being repressed, innit? If I bottle it all up, I’ll end up all weird, like Perry has. Hey, maybe someone like me could be good for him. I could take him on, as like, a project.”

“It seems like you already have.”

“Project Perry. Yep, I like the sound of that. And I’m going to get him comfortable with his gay side too. Maybe take him out to a pub or club. Let him meet some of my mates.”

“I hardly think that’s likely to put him at his ease around gay men.”

“What’s that meant to mean?” Did Lewis have a catty side after all? Mas could get down with that.

“Some of your friends are a little bit much, even for me.”

“Yeah, but seeing as how you’re all tame and domesticated, I’m not surprised.”

“And Perry isn’t domesticated?”

Lewis had a point, but Mas was buggered if he was about to admit it. “I think he’s just sheltered. It’d do him good to see a bit of gay culture.”

“A bunch of drunken tarts wiggling their arses down at OMG is hardly gay culture. Give him some gay literature to read instead. Maybe Hollinghurst, or something more old-fashioned like Oscar Wilde or EM Forster. I’m sure that will be more his kind of thing.”

“You think Jasper’s got any of those I could borrow?”

Lewis smiled then, and it was one of those cute little smiles he usually only directed at Jasper. “I expect so. He seems to have just about every other book that’s ever been published.”

“Cheers, mate. You’re a star. Just drop ’em off later when you’re passing through.”

Lewis looked like he was about to protest, so Mas distracted him by squeezing him in a tight hug. “You’re the best. I really, really appreciate all the advice.”

“Don’t mention it. Any time.” Lewis sounded surprised, and a little breathless, so Mas let him go with a sloppy kiss on the cheek.

“Oh, and when you’re dropping off the books, I don’t suppose you’ve got a decent drill I could borrow, have you? I’ve got a load of stuff I need to get up on the walls before tomorrow.”

“It’s a good thing Jasper loves you. That’s all I can say.” But Lewis smiled as he said it, and that must have been the first time he’d ever said anything about Jasper loving Mas. Made Mas feel all warm inside, that did.

Once Lewis was out of the way and Mas had cleaned the sticky pastry crumbs off his hands, he looked around the room.

Projects for the day:

1. Create two killer his n’ hers window displays.

2. Get things up on the wall to make this place look quirky and cosy.

3. Impress Perry with my intellectual reading matter.

4. Persuade Perry to accept his gay side.

There, that shouldn’t be too hard. And as Lewis had made him promise not to rush Perry, he marked “evening” next to the last one. Then crossed that out and wrote “night” instead. Perry had all but offered to let him sleep upstairs tonight, hadn’t he? Yeah, he had, Mas was sure of it. And if the bloke was wavering after that little snogging session, then Mas would just have to persuade him otherwise.

Yep, Project Perry was going well. Mas put Daft Punk on his iPod and boogied around while finishing off item one from the list.

Chapter Eighteen

Perry couldn’t work. Every time he started to lose himself in the intricacies of the wire work, his lips would tingle and Mas was the only thing on his mind.

The fifth time he jabbed himself in the palm with his needle-nose pliers, he decided to give up. Maybe he could rearrange some of his materials instead. But the workroom didn’t really need it, did it? It was downstairs that needed the hours putting in. And at the moment, he was letting Mas do it all by himself. What kind of boss was he? Clearly the kind who could delegate well, but he didn’t want to end up as the same kind of man as his father, living in the lap of luxury while others toiled away to keep him there. No, there was little self-respect to be found in the traditional lifestyle of the landed gentry.

And anyway, Perry told himself as he headed down the stairs, seeing Mas again would help speed up the process of banishing him from his head. That way he’d remember how shallow the chap was, and how utterly, totally unsuitable. Yes, the best way to cure himself of this silly infatuation was to let it play itself out quickly. Hiding away from Mas was only enabling his mind to paint some idealised version of him, one-hundred percent suited to Perry’s tastes.

Mas wasn’t in the first room, so Perry walked on through to the main shop, and back into the past.

“Can I help you, sir?” said a gorgeous young man in a tweed suit with a measuring tape handing around his neck.

It took a moment for Perry to resolve his mental image of the front room of his shop with the one presenting itself to his retinas. “Bloody hell.” It wasn’t the most eloquent response, but it was heartfelt.

“I know. It’s the bollocks, innit? Been working all day. Still not quite done, but I thought I’d kick back a bit now. Try out my outfit for tomorrow. What d’you reckon? Thought I should model some of the stock like you do. Show people how good they could look if they just put the right stuff together.” Mas twirled on the spot. He’d dug out a pair of burgundy tweed straight-legged trousers, a salmon pink linen shirt Perry vaguely remembered filing with the ladies blouses, and an olive-and-mustard tartan waistcoat. Those items clearly shouldn’t have gone together, but for some reason, they worked.

“You look perfect.”

“Cheers.” Mas’s smile grew even wider, giving Perry a view of just about all his teeth. “Come and have a look at the windows. I’ve given them a
His n’ Hers
theme, like the shop’s gonna have. You can kind of see from here, but it’s much better from outside.”

Perry allowed himself to be dragged out onto the street. Mas was still talking. Something about needing some halogen spotlights set up, “Because they’re going to look even better when they’re properly lit. But that can wait till the money starts coming in. Even if it’s just for now, I think I’ve done a pretty good job. I mean, it’s nothing like what my old boss, Penny, could do, but then again, she had heaps of cash for as much window-dressing bling as her heart desired.”

Perry stared at the two windows in front of him. They were like mirror images. Each had a well-dressed dummy placed in the outer corner, and Mas had somehow arranged and stuffed one of the sleeves on each so that it looked like there was an arm in there, complete with a glove at the end. The hands were resting on the backs of two chairs: a pretty wicker one with a fringed cushion in the
Hers
window, and a leather swivel chair in the
His
window. More clothes were draped over the other surfaces of the chairs. But what surprised him most were the little extras Mas had included. He’d arranged the contents of an old shaving kit along the front of the
His
window, and a regimented row of boots along the back. It even looked like he’d polished them. The
Hers
window had a matching row of boots, but the front was filled with an assortment of fans and perfume bottles. It could have looked a mess if it weren’t for the artful composition.

“So, what do you reckon? We need a fresh coat of paint everywhere still, but for now I reckon it’s about a thousand million times better than that old display you had.”

“I didn’t have a display at all.”

“You did. It was just of a few dead flies and a whole lot of empty space. But this is fresh. It’s kind of saying spring to me, and in a month or so, I’ll update so we’ve got something brand-spanking-new for the launch party. We’re gonna get in all the poncy paper Sunday supplements. You just wait and see. And we can put pictures of the exterior on our website too. Upload the new ones into a gallery every time I redo them.”

Something in that barrage of information had struck Perry as alarming. What was it now? “Hold on a minute, did you say launch party?”

“Yep, get with the programme, Perrykins. Every new shop gets to have a launch party. It’s like, the law or something.”

“But this isn’t a new shop.”

“Shhh. It might not be new, but it’s being rebranded. That’s practically the same thing these days. And anyway, we can make the fact we’re relaunching a tried-and-trusted brand into a big deal on the website. It’s all in how you play it.”

Perry wasn’t going to win this argument, he could tell. He settled on another point that seemed indisputable. “We don’t have a website.”

“Not yet, but just you wait. I was looking into setting one up last night. Needn’t cost much if we do it ourselves, and I’ve got a few ideas. To start with, it could just be for basic information like where we are and when we open, but there’s nothing to stop us setting up a virtual storefront one day. Of course, you’ll need a cardnet machine too. I’ve been looking into that, and I reckon I’ve found a good deal if you’re willing to change to another bank. Or there’s this online thingie called Square that I’m looking into as well…”

Perry let Mas’s chatter wash over him as he wandered back into the shop. He answered Mas’s questions in a daze, vaguely aware he was agreeing to all kinds of things he should probably put his foot down about, but then again, Mas was clearly a miracle worker. Just look at what he’d achieved already!

“Where did you find all this stuff? Was it really all upstairs?” Perry scanned the upper half of the room. Mas had hung an eclectic mix of items up there, from ornamental plates to pairs of shoes, a variety of hats and a set of giant palm fans. The room looked about ten times larger, and had a classic, feminine feel to it, like Aunt Betty’s boudoir. In fact, that was her dressing table over in the corner, which Mas had commandeered into a display stand for the costume jewellery.

“You like it?”

“It’s very…girly.”

“Shit.” Mas sounded crestfallen, and Perry felt like an utter heel. “I did think about making the back room the boudoir, but most clothes shops put the blokes’ stuff at the back or down in the basement for a reason. It’s the women you need to attract in if you want to make a living, and they’ll drag the men with them.”