JACK Kennington Park Road
JACK
Kennington Park Road
As a cloud of glittering confetti suddenly explodes around me, I can’t help but wonder how Ian managed to drag me into this whole thing. Although, deep down, I already know the answer.
It’s the guilt.
I still haven’t got back to Francis like I said I would after that dinner at the Blackbird, and no matter how much of a pain he is, I know I haven’t exactly handled things well.
He’s clearly trying to do something good, even if, judging by the utterly wrecked look on his face as he walks through the door, he hasn’t got the faintest idea how to take care of a baby.
I’m sure he knows how to look after his little patients, everyone says he’s an amazing paediatrician, but raising a child is a whole different story.
Even if I’m not a parent myself, I spent years helping my mum take care of the kids she used to babysit, and then, once I was older, looking after them myself.
Francis looks completely overwhelmed by the welcome his friends have thrown together, and when both Adele and little Leo, who’s here with his dads, start screaming in sync at the sight of Kit dressed up as Stitch, it becomes pretty clear they may have gone slightly overboard.
The poor rugby player hurries off, mortified, to peel off that hideous furry costume, and it’s only then that Helen, Francis’s mum, who I was briefly introduced to before he arrived, finally pushes her way through the crowd.
The ever-composed paediatrician visibly falters at the sight of his mother, and while he introduces her to his new daughter, now finally calm, I find myself smiling, despite everything, as I watch the first tender moment between the brand-new grandma and little Adele.
Helen Starkey is undeniably attractive, just like her son, who is, in fact, the spitting image of her.
Like him, she’s tall and slender, with dark brown hair and eyes. Her skin has a warm golden tone and is practically flawless, and if I didn’t already know she was at least in her fifties, I’d have guessed she was no older than forty.
As soon as Francis sets the baby down on the floor, his mum drops to her knees and starts speaking to her softly. After a moment, Adele crawls towards her of her own accord. Helen gently picks her up and sits her on her lap, continuing to talk to her as if she could understand every word.
She doesn’t pull silly faces or coo at her; she treats her with the kind of respect you’d show a tiny human being.
And that, I have to admit, makes me like her instantly.
In the meantime, Kit has returned in normal clothes, and the rest of the gang has moved into the kitchen under the pretence of sorting out the refreshments, which are, in fact, already perfectly set up, just to give the Starkeys a bit of privacy.
As I join the others, I hear Ollie asking Remi where his mum is. She was expected to come with Maude to the welcome party for Adele, which Seb and Noah had apparently been secretly planning for days with the help of the whole group.
But Remi doesn’t get a chance to reply, because he suddenly notices Leo, his personal tornado, trying to climb the kitchen cupboard, and darts off to rescue him.
Luckily, Maude, who happened to catch the scene, steps in to explain: “Mum stayed behind in Sennen Cove to help out at the Starkey house. Nicholas, Francis’s dad, has a serious health condition, and there’s no way he would’ve managed the trip.
Mum didn’t think it would be fair for her to come all the way to London to meet Adele while Helen was stuck in Cornwall, so she suggested Helen come with me instead.
She’s taken a couple of days off to spend time with her new granddaughter, while Mum and Ben stay down in Cornwall and look after Nick. ”
“Huh… doesn’t Francis have loads of siblings back in Sennen Cove?” I ask, genuinely surprised.
Maude explains the situation with calm patience, completely unfazed by my nosiness.
“The Starkey kids are all very involved with their parents, but each of them has their own family now, and Helen being away already disrupts their daily routine more than enough. They all work at the family boatyard, and they’ve got plenty of kids themselves.
If it weren’t for the scholarship he earned through sheer hard work, Francis would never have been able to afford a top university, same as my brother, actually. ”
So, turns out I do have something in common with the infuriating Dr Starkey after all.
Besides mutual dislike, obviously.
We both come from humble families, and we’ve carved out our place in the world through sacrifice, scholarships, and, I assume, more than a few badly paid jobs.
Ollie, meanwhile, is unusually quiet. Now that I know him a little better, I’d guess he’s touched by Mrs. Elliott’s gesture, but either way, he doesn’t say a word.
I, on the other hand, can’t help chiming in.
“Your mum’s incredible, Maude. A real friend. I don’t know many people who’d step back like that in a situation like this and take on something so serious as caring for a sick friend. Most wouldn’t do that even for a relative.”
Maude, as always, seems completely unfazed.
“Oh, thank you, Jack, but for Mum it was an entirely natural decision, I promise. The Starkeys are some of our closest friends, and more than anyone, they were the ones who helped us through after our dad passed away. Remi and I were just kids back then, and it was incredibly hard for our mum to get back on her feet. She’ll never forget what the Starkeys did for us. Neither will I, or my brother.”
Oddly enough, Maude’s calm, matter-of-fact tone only makes her words hit harder.
And as I find myself staring at her, throat dry, I can’t help feeling a wave of admiration for these people, so genuinely kind, the sort who’ve made a real difference in their friends’ lives and keep doing so even years later.
The more I get pulled into the world of these so-called Blackbird Boys, the more fascinated I am by the hidden threads that bind them together, a web of quiet, unshakeable ties that clearly go far beyond simple friendship. It’s something much closer to what I’d call family.
And maybe that’s why, even though I’m not surprised anymore that Emma isn’t here, I can’t help wondering what Anne’s absence really means. Why she’s not come to welcome Adele like the rest of them.
But I don’t get a chance to dwell on that particular minefield, because just then, the two Starkeys walk into the kitchen and join the chaos.
Francis clinks his Coke can against Jamie’s with a faint smile, while his mum starts chatting with Maude, and Sebastian takes the opportunity to scoop Adele up into his arms.
The ever-dashing musician gazes at the baby with that soft, dreamy expression of his, promising her, very seriously, I might add, that one day he’ll teach her how to play the piano. Adele, however, seems far more interested in trying to grab one of the silky curls tumbling over his shoulders.
Luckily, before she succeeds in yanking a fistful of his hair, Remi appears behind Seb and gently sweeps the curls off his neck, tying them back into a loose ponytail.
Seb turns, surprised, and Remi leans in close, murmuring something with a teasing grin: “You still haven’t learnt, have you? After all the times Leo’s tried?” He chuckles. “You know that glorious hair of yours is basically a magnet for small children…”
Then his voice drops lower, and there’s no mistaking the way he says the next bit: “And not just for children…”
Sebastian swallows hard, blushing bright red, and I instantly feel awkward just standing there, picking up on the sexual tension crackling between those two.
The exchange was harmless enough, but hearing it felt like accidentally catching a glimpse into their bedroom.
It’s... kind of depressing, actually, realising how little experience I’ve had. But this is neither the time nor the place to start wondering if I’ll ever know that kind of all-consuming passion that seems to radiate off the Elliott Arnettes, and, in their own way, the Daley Doohans too.
To shake off the awkwardness, I head for the buffet table, which Noah and Sebastian have set up with quiet elegance. It’s simple but impressive, laid out with all sorts of delicious things. As I reach for a salmon canapé, my brother appears at my side.
“You’re really sure you want to turn him down?” he asks under his breath, for the umpteenth time since I told him I’d come to the welcome party for Adele.
He’s been pushing for days, and I finally agreed to show up, but only, I made it clear, to apologise to Francis for ghosting him since the dinner at the Blackbird.
And more importantly, to officially turn down his offer.
Earlier this week, I rang Nate, and while I was, unsuccessfully, trying to talk her into working with Jamie, she took the chance to let me know that another dance school here in London, one where a friend of hers works, had actually made her a similar offer just the day before.
She turned it down, obviously, but she thought the time slot they offered might be a good fit for me. And she was right.
I’ve already got an interview lined up, and if all goes well, I should be able to move out of Ian’s place soon enough, without having to work for Infuriating Doctor Starkey.
Who, incidentally, is currently eyeing me from across the room with thinly veiled disapproval.
I can only assume it’s because of my incredible outfit.
In honour of little Adele, I’m wearing my favourite hoodie, the white-and-green striped one, paired with flared black jeans, chunky boots, and, to top it all’off, my red bandana.
Francis is shooting me that signature sarcastic look of his, but honestly? I feel amazing.
I decide to blissfully ignore our host and enjoy the company, at least for now. But just as I’m biting into another canapé with a delicious layer of ham paté, I feel a familiar, irritating presence sneak up behind me.