Francis Earl’s Court
FRANCIS
Earl’s Court
“Fran! Wait, where are you going?”
Remi is right behind me for just a few seconds before catching up, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder to stop me in my tracks.
We come to a halt in the middle of the pavement, thankfully deserted, and as I turn to face him, a sharp mix of anger and shame burns hot in my chest.
I know I need to be careful with what I’m about to say.
This man standing in front of me is such a vital part of my life and my past that, even though the haze of jealousy and regret clouding my head, I can still feel his concern.
His affection. His loyalty is a constant, untouched by anything, though I know I haven’t exactly been the best friend lately.
So, I don’t say anything. I wait, quietly, patiently, for him to speak first.
It’s the least I owe him.
“Fran…” he begins, and when I meet his gaze, it’s filled with a sadness that somehow cools the molten mess that, just moments ago, was burning a hole in my chest.
Before I realise what’s happening, I’m crying silently against his shoulder, just slightly taller than mine, and shaking with the effort of holding it all in.
When I feel his arms wrap tightly around my back, I’m hit with a wave of relief. After all these years, Remi is still here. Still watching my back. Still holding me up the way he always has, ever since we were boys.
The way I’ve always tried to do for him, too.
And precisely because I know he loves me like a brother, a feeling I return completely, I’m also well aware he won’t sugar-coat anything. He’ll tell me exactly what he thinks.
And sure enough, after giving me a few seconds to pull myself together and kindly handing me his handkerchief so I can wipe my face, the words come, sharp and swift:
“Fran, mate, what the fuck are you doing?”
If I didn’t know he was waiting for a real answer, I might’ve tried to dodge the question, thrown in one of my usual deflections, some dry remark that used to come so easily.
But lately, those seem to have deserted me too.
And I know Remi expects from me the same intellectual honesty he’s always shown me, even in the hardest moments of his own life, and I can’t give him anything less.
“I’m not okay…” I finally admit, while he keeps his eyes locked on mine, silently urging me to go on.
“I’m hurting, and I don’t know how to start living again without Anne.
Despite everything, I still have feelings for her, and I’m jealous and frustrated, because, unlike me, she’s moved on with her life.
I know, because I do know, that that’s the right thing to do…
that I should be happy for her and try to do the same. But… I just can’t.”
I shrug and lower my gaze, drained by the confession and ashamed of how petty the words sound.
Remi doesn’t look shocked or annoyed, though, just sad. He places a hand on the back of my neck, gently coaxing me to look up at him again.
“Why didn’t you ever tell me any of this before?” he asks, with such disarming simplicity and not a trace of judgement in his voice that it makes it easier for me to go on.
“I… I guess I didn’t want anyone’s pity. You know how proud I am…”
We exchange a quick, knowing glance at that, one of those unspoken moments only years of friendship can shape, and then I continue, cautiously now, unsure about what I’m about to say.
“And… You and Seb are so happy together, and I swear I’ve never once felt jealous. On the contrary, knowing how hard you fought for your life together, for your family… I just didn’t think it was fair to burden you with my crap.”
“Francis!” he cuts in sharply. “Don’t talk rubbish!
I don’t ever want to hear you say anything that bloody ridiculous again…
especially not you! What the hell are friends for, then?
Eh?! When my dad died, did you worry about upsetting your peace of mind, or were you more focused on being there for me and giving me all the comfort you could?
” he demands, his voice rising with anger.
I’m left speechless for a second, then reply without hesitation.
“My priority was being there for you, of course. Even if I knew I couldn’t take the pain away…”
“Exactly! You, see? And you were just a kid! What happened to you, Fran? Did you get stupid as you got older?”
He looks at me dead serious now, hands on his hips, wearing that same exasperated expression he used to make when we were kids, half scolding, half fond and something about it unlocks the tension inside me.
A laugh bursts out of my throat, raw and unfiltered. It comes from somewhere deep in my chest, from a place still damp with tears, but suddenly lighter.
Here he is, my best friend. My stubborn, sharp-edged, wonderful Remi.
I shake my head, still breathless from laughing, and he takes full advantage of the pause to carry on: “What are friends for, if you can’t even turn to them when you’re struggling, just because you’re afraid of messing with their peace of mind?
I hope you never make the mistake again of thinking you can’t talk to us about what you’re feeling.
Seb and I, we’re solid, you know that. But we don’t live in a crystal bubble.
Our life isn’t perfect, and even though we love each other like mad, we still face challenges every single day, individually, as a couple, and now as parents too.
But we want to be here, for you, for all our friends, for our chosen family.
And I have no doubt that the rest of the group feels exactly the same way… ”
I try to cut in, to thank him, but Remi’s on a roll now, and there’s no stopping him.
“No, Fran, let me finish.”
He holds my gaze. “There’s one last thing I want you to think about, something that deserves a more honest and careful reflection.
Are you really sure the reason you can’t let go of what you had with Anne is because you still have feelings for her?
Or is it possible that all this anger and frustration is coming from your wounded pride? ”
For a moment, we just stare at each other in silence.
I knew the blow was coming, but I wasn’t prepared for how much it would hurt.
It knocks the wind out of me, and as Remi turns to go, offering a small wave without waiting for a reply, I already feel his words digging deep, hollowing out a space inside me I don’t yet know how to fill.