Cruella My Darling

Red or Black?

It had been three days since we began working on preparations for designs, the article and the winter ball.

I was already overwhelmed and I wasn't even the one doing the designing. That's part was up to Cruella and her brilliant mind. I mostly watched her work, her eyes glued to the needle and thread engineered into her sewing machine in the corner of the loft, hardly ever moving elsewhere.

"Tea for my lady," I mocked in a forced upper east London tone.

She laughed at my silliness and wrapped her hands around the mug, slipping her two middle fingers through the handle, looking dead straight into my eyes as she did so. She knew full well what she was doing.

My knees folded and I sunk a little into the floor, wanting nothing more than to spend a much needed night alone with her after all the fuss and stress of the last few days.

"Red or black" Cruella asked, whipping two different fabrics from her desk and holding them up for me to see in the light.

My mind was completely elsewhere and I stuttered an embarrassing amount before answering, "Erm, red, definitely."

It was by far the better option. A crimson shade of red with a darker, thick floral pattern embroidered into it, velvet.

"I think so too," she smiled and continued to sew.

I decided to leave her to it. Besides, the smell of coffee was luring me into kitchen and I needed caffeine badly.

Cruella was waking up incredibly early to get working on sewing, which meant I woke up too. As smooth and subtle as the woman was when moving around, I was such a light sleeper and couldn't help awaking to sound off the whirring of the needle at 6am in the morning.

"Eh up, morning," Horace greeted me from the sofa as I appeared through the curtain that separated mine and Cruella's room from from the rest of the loft.

"Coffee. Is needed."

"Alllll right?" Horace turned his attention from me back to petting Wink.

I whipped the coffee press up fast and poured myself a generous cup, using the largest mug I could find. I recognised it from the time we looted the market in Camden last August.

I smiled as I recalled the events of that day. I remember Jasper being really grumpy all afternoon because we refused to help him steal this god awful kitchen stool that he wanted. Me and Stell wandered off from the boys after lunch and took a walk down the canal. It was so pretty.

I stood leaning against the cupboard as I necked the coffee faster than Cruella could sew a button, which was incredibly fast by the way.

I heard the lift clank, and moments later I saw Jasper's head appear, followed by the rest of his body.

He looked dishevelled and worn out completely.

"Bad day?" I grimaced as I asked, prepared for 20 minutes of complaints.

"I missed my train, stepped in dog shit," he looked down at his browned shoe,"and on top o' that, they didn't even have that silk Stell needed."

I walked over and put a hand on his shoulder with sympathy as he collapsed into the chair.

"Well," I looked into his eyes,"I guess you'll just have to go back and check they're stock tomorrow."

He flicked my forehead aggressively in response to my attempt to annoy him even more. I deserved it.

"You're a great person," he sneered sarcastically.

Cruella's head appeared through the curtain and glared hopefully at Jasper who was now, i'm pretty sure, asleep leaning on the table.

"They didn't have the silk my love, we're going to have to go the shop a few miles out instead," I answered the question she was thinking about.

"You're joking, well that's going to set me back," she emerged from inbetween the curtains and walked into the kitchen. She flew her upper body over the table as she sat to match Jasper.

I looked at both of their helpless, fed up little bodies slumped over the wooden surface and felt momentarily sorry for the stress they were under. That is until I remembered that we were all in fact under pressure and I was coping just fine.

"Nope, we're not doing this," I decided," haul your arses up, we're going for a walk."

I kicked their legs and their heads lifted promptly up from their strop.

"Come on, get your shoes, all three of you," I gestured at Horace also. I felt like a parent responsible for my own children.

"Urghhhhh, don't get roping me into this crap" Horace moaned.

"Up. Now. Come on. We all need to get out of this loft and spend some time together," I grabbed my own boots from the floor by the sofa and slid my feet in forcefully, not bothering with the laces.

I watched all three of them as they moved like sloths, lazy teenagers dragging their feet slowly around. I rolled my eyes at their reluctance.

"Wink, Buddy, come on lads, mum's forcing us out into the cold," Horace continued to moan.

I pulled a face at him and followed them all into the lift, herding them and making sure they didn't try and escape.