Chapter 4
Chapter Four
JACK
The Blackbird
After fighting tooth and nail with my brother to finally be allowed to join one of the legendary Blackbird nights, I honestly didn’t think I’d end up having this much fun.
Ian, who’d been relatively kind during my first few days living with him, seemed dead set on leaving me at home alone tonight.
According to him, I’d just feel awkward surrounded by a group of near strangers, all older than me.
But Ollie, who’s quickly become my greatest ally, was the first to point out that the age gap between us is practically non-existent, and that the oldest of the Blackbird Boys is, what, twenty-six at most.
Kit, who usually steers clear of any kind of drama, jumped in too, reminding Ian that even Remi’s sister was now officially part of the group, just like him and Ollie.
When he actually went as far as asking Ian if he was feeling unwell and maybe he should stay home instead, my brother finally gave up and let me come out with them.
Not without shooting me a murderous glare and letting out the most theatrical sigh imaginable.
I still don’t fully get why he’s always been so against introducing me to his friends, but if he’s worried I might embarrass him, I’m determined to prove him wrong.
I will be on my best behaviour, promise, but I’m not about to pretend to be someone I’m not, and if Ian’s got a problem with that, well… that’s on him.
I wore a few of my favourite pieces and even let Ollie put a bit of mascara on me. When I looked in the mirror before we left, I actually thought I looked kind of cute, and apart from the unpleasant run-in with Francis, everyone else has been way warmer and more welcoming than I expected.
Everyone at the table, even Maude and Anne, the two girls in the group, seemed genuinely pleased to meet me.
I think some of them were even curious to finally put a face to Ian’s mysterious little brother.
Everyone except Francis, the tall, dark and moody doctor, who openly laughed in my face before even saying hello and hasn’t stopped shooting me annoyed looks since we sat down.
Out of all the guys, he seems to be one of the closest to my brother, and I honestly can’t tell whether I should be surprised by how obviously he dislikes me… or slightly proud of it.
If anything, his standoffish attitude has only got worse since Anne walked into the Blackbird, who, according to Ian’s stories, used to be Francis’s girlfriend for ages, until she turned down his marriage proposal and left him.
I’m not heartless; I get that must’ve been rough. But it’s been years, and the fact that he still looks so bitter about it feels a bit over the top.
Anne doesn’t seem too bothered by her ex’s prickly attitude, especially considering she’s turned up tonight, I think for the first time, with her new boyfriend, William, who, unlike Dr Starkey, actually has impeccable manners.
Not that Francis is blatantly rude or anything, but the whole way he’s acting, and the sideways glares he keeps throwing at the new couple, doesn’t exactly leave room for interpretation.
If he’s still this pissed after all this time, it can’t just be about wounded pride. It’s pretty obvious he’s still got feelings for his ex. And look, I do feel for him, honestly, I do. Pain is always something worth respecting.
But even so, I think it’s probably time for Dr Starkey to move on.
Anne really is stunning, though, sweet, clever, funny, and absolutely gorgeous, which obviously doesn’t hurt.
I get that moving on from someone like Anne isn’t exactly a walk in the park but come on, Francis isn’t exactly hard on the eyes either. I seriously doubt he has trouble meeting people, even with that… charming personality of his.
He’s tall and broad-shouldered, with that kind of rough-around-the-edges handsomeness, strong features, the kind of stubble that probably grows back five seconds after shaving, thick black hair that looks like it refuses to be tamed no matter how short he cuts it, and these deep, dark brown eyes that seem to be soaking up all the shadows in the room right now.
If he weren’t radiating so much bitterness, I might even find him attractive, despite the whole grumpy-doctor vibe.
And I can’t help but wonder if anyone else at this table has noticed how much he’s clearly simmering beneath that facade of cool detachment.
As usual, I’m completely zoning out, lost in my usual whirlwind of chaotic thoughts, when Sebastian snaps me right back to earth.
He clicks his fingers and flashes me a warm smile, locking eyes with mine. “Hey… Earth to Jack!”
Looking at him properly for the first time, I start to get it, why Ian can’t seem to let him go.
Even the guys I’ve seen orbiting around my brother over the years now seem like dim shadows of the original.
Because yes, Sebastian is undeniably handsome, but there’s something else about him, something you don’t come across often.
He has this quiet warmth and a kind of sharp, effortless intelligence that draws people in without even trying.
And what really gets me is that he carries all of that without a single drop of arrogance.
Right now, he must have noticed that despite my best efforts, I’m still feeling a bit out of place, and he’s clearly trying to help me settle in.
“So, tell me, what’s going on in Stratford these days?
I haven’t been back in ages and I’m totally out of the loop…
You know, after moving back from France I settled here in London, and with all the travelling I do for work, whenever I get back to the UK, all I want is to enjoy being home.
The most we do is go visit the rest of the Elliotts down in Cornwall… ”
All it takes is for him to say Remi’s surname, sitting right beside him, and his whole face lights up.
The soft smile that tugs at his lips says more than a thousand words about the kind of love they share.
I don’t ask about his parents, I already know he has a complicated family history.
Instead, I decide to keep things light and fill him in on the latest gossip from our hometown, where predictably, everyone knows everything about everyone.
“Did you know Cressida Welland’s already divorced her second husband?” I ask, shaking my head.
Seb’s eyes widen in surprise. “Seriously??”
Then he bursts out laughing, not unkind, and goes on, “What did that little troublemaker get up to this time? Last I heard, her first husband caught her in the walk-in wardrobe with her lover…”
Uh… This time it seems her lawful spouse surprised Cressida at a hotel in Amsterdam, where she was there for work, and found her right in the middle of a threesome with a guy and a girl!”
Seb shakes his head, but he doesn’t seem all that surprised.
“Oh, Cressie, Cressie… That girl is hopeless. Believe it or not, I almost ended up dating her once…”
He doesn’t even get to finish the sentence before Remi suddenly turns around and shoots him a sharp look that makes the gorgeous pianist burst out laughing again.
“Were you eavesdropping, Professor Elliott?” he teases, leaning in closer.
Then, without looking away from his husband for a second, he adds, “You know full well Cressida never stood a chance. By the time I met her, I was already hopelessly in love with you…”
As if he’d just been waiting for an excuse, Remi grabs him by the nape and crashes their lips together in a kiss so fierce and possessive it makes the entire room feel a few degrees hotter.
Those two are fire and ice all at once, and the chemistry between them is like nothing I’ve ever seen in any other couple.
And maybe it’s a bit pathetic to admit, but I’ve barely spent any time with them and already… already I’m wishing that one day, I’ll find someone who looks at me the way they look at each other.
The Elliot-Arnettes are completely wrapped up in one another, so I turn away to give them a little privacy. Ollie, luckily, is deep in conversation with Jamie and Noah, a couple clearly just as in love, but with a totally different vibe from Remi and Seb.
Noah, in particular, is an unstoppable stream of words, and his husband, who looks quietly relieved to have someone else to share all that eloquence with, just nods along with a knowing smile as the two of them debate the best waterproof makeup brand on the market.
Noah, who teaches art at primary school, is currently putting together a production of Twelfth Night with his students and seems very invested in Ollie’s advice for creating tear-proof, snot-resistant stage makeup.
Jamie shoots me an amused look over their heads, and I take the chance to chat with him for a bit. He’s a fellow dancer, though he’s got far more experience than I do.
“Noah told me you’re a dancer too…” he says with genuine interest, and I suddenly feel weirdly happy to talk about my passion with someone who truly gets it.
“Yeah, or at least I’m trying to be…” I chuckle awkwardly, surprised he’s put me on the same level as him when he’s clearly way ahead of me.
“Don’t downplay it,” Jamie says. “You got into LCDS, right? Only the best dancers make it in, and you landed a place with a scholarship…”
“Th–thank you…” I mumble, even more embarrassed now, wondering how on earth he knows all this about me. But he quickly clears that up.
“When you got in, Ian told us straight away. He was really proud of his little brother…”
Jamie winks at me, but I can’t stop myself from asking, “Are you sure we’re talking about the same person?”
As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I slap a hand over my mouth and burst out laughing. Jamie joins in straight away, drawing a couple of confused looks from Ollie and Noah, who glance at each other and then, in perfect sync, shrug and go right back to discussing makeup like nothing happened.
Once we’ve both calmed down, we tactfully steer the conversation away from Ian and back to dancing.
“So, what are your plans exactly, besides classes?” Jamie asks, raising his voice slightly over the growing chatter at our table.
“Well, I obviously need to find a job. Back in Stratford, I used to teach beginner ballet classes, and I’d love to find a school here in London where I could work part-time…”
“Seriously?” he asks, clearly interested, then goes on, “I work as a freelance dancer, but I’ve recently opened my own school, and a qualified teacher for the age group you specialise in would be a godsend. It’s hard to find talented dancers who actually want to work with little ones…”
“They’re definitely a handful, sure, but they’re also so open and easy to shape. As teachers, we can really make a difference…”
“Exactly!” he exclaims, lighting up. And from the way he says it, I can already tell we’d work well together, if I manage to fit teaching around my classes at the academy, that is.
“When you have a better idea of your schedule and commitments, come visit me at the school, Jack. I’d really love to find a way for us to work together,” he adds, smiling at me encouragingly.
After exchanging phone numbers, we start chatting about the differences between the world of modern dance, Jamie’s specialty, and contemporary dance, which is more my thing.
And just when I was starting to think the evening would go by smoothly, apart from that awkward moment with Doctor Starkey… it’s him, of course, who stirs things up again.
And not in a good way.
Jamie is in the middle of telling me a story about one of his very first shows, something involving an exploding costume and a curtain that refused to close, when a sharp voice cuts right through the laughter.
“Well, I’m glad you two are so in sync, can’t really say the same about us, can we, Annie?”
It’s Francis.
He puts a pointed emphasis on the word you, his tone so sharp and cold I can hardly believe it’s coming from him, brusque as he may be.
I turn towards him, along with half the pub.
He’s standing now, fists clenched stiffly by his sides, eyes fixed on Anne.
Her face is a mixture of clear annoyance and faint surprise.
William, sitting next to her, is still smiling, but there’s something off about it, like he’s not quite sure how to respond.
Anne opens her mouth, finally ready to say something, but Francis stops her with a simple flick of his hand, calm, but unmistakably final.
Then, without another word, he lifts his half-finished pint, takes one last sip, and sets the glass down again with deliberate slowness.
“I think I’ve had enough for tonight… Sorry, I should probably head home.”
Suddenly, silence falls and no one speaks anymore.
Not Jamie, who was joking with me just a second ago, nor Noah and Ollie, who seem to have frozen mid-conversation.
And it’s the same for everyone else, Remi and Sebastian included, who only turn towards the rest of the table then, as if the moment has reached them a beat late.
Francis walks off without looking back, and Seb presses his lips together, giving Remi a barely perceptible nod.
His husband doesn’t hesitate.
He gets up quietly and, without a word, follows his best friend out of the pub.
For a few seconds, no one makes a sound.
Then Ollie, being the actor he is, turns to me, lifts both palms in theatrical surrender and declares, “Jack, welcome to the Blackbird.”