Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
JACK
A few days later…
Kennington Park Road
The days following Anne’s strange phone call and the kitchen incident have gone by in a constant state of restlessness I can’t quite explain.
Our daily routine is so hectic that I barely have time to breathe, and yet, the experience at the academy is turning out to be even more exciting and rewarding than I ever imagined.
Not only do I genuinely enjoy most of the classes, but I’m also seeing some really encouraging results.
All my teachers seem pleased with my performance, even the formidable Claire Donovan has expressed her approval on more than one occasion, albeit in her usual brisk, no-nonsense manner.
Still, I have to admit that my favourite classes aren’t hers, but Etienne’s, even if not for the reasons Ludo thinks.
My new friend has a very clear plan: seduce the charming French instructor. And honestly, I don’t doubt he’ll succeed eventually.
Even if Etienne was determined to resist his advances, which, to be fair, I’m not entirely convinced he is, Ludo has a kind of effortless charm and such striking sensuality that, one way or another, he’ll wear him down.
Even I, who, for the record, am not attracted to him, can feel the subtle erotic tension that seems to radiate from Ludo’s every movement, even the smallest ones.
From what he’s told me, La Scala wasn’t just an excellent school in terms of training. It also taught him, shall we say, a fair bit about interpersonal dynamics. Possibly too much.
Ludo finds my moral concerns about extracurricular relationships between students and teachers amusing… and more than a little exaggerated.
Whenever I try to reason with him about how inappropriate it would be to get involved with our improvisation teacher, he just shrugs and waves me off with one of his trademark laughs: “Jack, I just want to shag him, relax. I’ve got zero intention of getting into a relationship, not with him, or anyone else, for that matter. ”
I’m seriously thinking of asking the Blackbird gang if I can bring Ludo along to the next dinner. I have a feeling he and Ollie would get on like a house on fire, though there’s also a very real risk that the Italian might set his sights on my brother…
Say what you like about Ludovico Visconti, but he has this uncanny ability to get right to the heart of things, something I clearly lack.
After nearly a week of carrying around this strange, creeping restlessness, which has only gotten worse with each passing day, I’m now sitting around waiting for Francis to get home and get ready for his big date, feeling more troubled than the situation strictly calls for.
The idea that he might still have feelings for Anne makes me vaguely uncomfortable, though I suppose it’s not exactly surprising. She was the love of his life, after all, and I witnessed firsthand just how much it hurt him when she introduced him to her new boyfriend.
Now that I’ve come to know him a little better, I realise that all that passive-aggressive posturing that night was really just a poorly disguised layer of heartache.
Even if I still don’t excuse how awful he was to me at the start, after seeing him in action, as both a friend and a father, I finally understand why Ian and the others have always insisted that Francis is a good person. Because, truthfully, he is.
Annoying, full of himself, sarcastic to a fault… but also thoughtful, deeply caring towards the people he loves, and genuinely dedicated to his work.
The infuriating Dr Starkey is, without question, a man of integrity. And lately, strange things seem to happen whenever he’s around.
Sometimes, when he comes home in the evening after a long shift at the hospital, eyes tired but overflowing with tenderness for his daughter, I catch myself wanting to run my hands along those rough cheeks of his, where there’s always the faintest shadow of stubble, even though I’m sure he shaves religiously every morning.
At other times, strangely enough, my fingers itch with the urge to run through that thick, dark hair of his, so dense that no matter how neatly it’s trimmed and styled, it always seems to do its own thing.
If the idea weren’t so completely ridiculous, I could almost believe there’s something there. But I push the thought aside, because it’s impossible. Not for me.
For me, physical attraction has always gone hand in hand with emotional connection. And even then, I’ve never felt anything strong enough to push me into acting on it in any physical way. To be honest, I’m not even sure it ever will.
Francis is quite literally the last person on earth I could ever imagine forming that kind of connection with.
So why does the thought of his date make me feel this unsettled?
Adele is quietly playing with her soft building blocks right next to me, unusually calm, when I finally hear the front door open. But instead of the familiar sound of one person coming in, I hear footsteps, and voices, two of them.
“Hey Jack, everything alright? How’s my little one?” Francis calls out cheerfully.
“I brought someone along who really wanted to say hi to her,” he adds, still in that upbeat tone.
I return the greeting with little enthusiasm and, as the doctor and his guest approach, I finally get a good look at the new arrival. I’m guessing this must be the infamous Eddie, the nurse who asked him out on this date.
Francis mentions his colleagues now and then, and I know the guy took excellent care of Adele when she was at St Thomas’.
“This is Eddie,” Francis introduces his guest, who gives me a quick wave. Then the doctor leans down to kiss Adele and adds, “If you’ll excuse me for a moment, I’ve just come from the hospital and need to get changed before we head out.”
“No problem, take your time,” Eddie replies with an understanding smile, then adds, “The night’s only just getting started…”
A chill runs down my spine, and I instinctively clench my jaw, while Francis is already disappearing down the hallway.
“Won’t be long,” he calls back, sounding almost apologetic. “In the meantime, enjoy the princess,” he adds, already out of sight.
Left alone, I try to smile at the new arrival, and as I stand up to shake his hand, I can’t help but notice just how adorable he is.
“Nice to meet you, I’m Jack,” I mumble, studying him.
Curly red hair, green eyes, porcelain skin, he’s poured into a pair of skinny jeans that show off the perfect curve of his small, firm arse, and he’s wearing a violet jumper that brings out all those stunning colours.
Next to him, with my boring brown eyes, brown hair and standard workout clothes, I feel painfully average.
I get this tight, unwelcome knot in my chest, something I absolutely refuse to acknowledge as jealousy, because if I did, the implications would be far too messy to deal with.
And right now, my life is already complicated enough without adding anything else to the mix.
“Nice to meet you, Edward,” he says, offering a small, smooth hand with a flawless manicure.
“But everyone calls me Eddie,” he adds, just as Adele starts tugging on my leggings, trying to pull herself up, grinning at him with that gummy, toothless smile.
The young nurse drops to his knees and reaches out to her, speaking in this soft, gentle voice. Then he carefully helps her let go of me, sits cross-legged on the floor and pulls her into his lap.
The little traitor lets him do it without so much as a peep, and what’s worse, she giggles happily as she snuggles up against him.
I know perfectly well I shouldn’t feel this pang of irritation watching her cuddle up to someone else.
And yet, my instinct is to go over and scoop her right back into my arms, a ridiculous thought, obviously, and completely out of the question.
After all, who am I to her? Or to her father?
I’m just the babysitter. Temporary, at that. I keep telling myself this on loop, trying in vain to slow the frantic beating of my heart.
Francis and Adele aren’t mine. And they never will be.
We don’t even know if Adele will stay here, or if one day she’ll be taken back to her mother.
I can’t afford to get possessive over any of this.
Sure, the little one loves me, I don’t doubt that.
But before long, someone else will come along. Another nanny, or an au pair.
And she’ll love them too, the way she’s loved me.
And Francis… well, that’s a whole different story.
He has nothing to do with me. He finds me useful, and he trusts me now, that much is clear.
But beyond our work agreement and a good dose of mutual irritation, there’s absolutely nothing between us.
And even if, by some remote miracle, there was something else… it wouldn’t change a damn thing.
My reasoning is airtight, and I keep repeating it to myself, over and over, hoping it’ll be enough to convince me, because I know I’m right.
So why the hell do I feel like this?
All I want is to get out of here and go home. But I can’t. I’ve already given my word, which means I’ll be stuck here all evening, silently agonising, until Francis gets back, possibly still smelling of Eddie.
Thankfully, the young nurse is so completely smitten with Adele that he doesn’t notice how uncomfortable I am.
And just as I’m still trying to figure out some kind of escape plan, Francis walks back into the living room, freshly showered, hair still damp, wearing nothing more than a pair of jeans, a white shirt and a navy jumper.
The three of us instinctively look up as he enters, and I catch the faint blush that creeps onto his cheeks, clearly aware he’s being stared at.
“I’m ready, Eddie. Hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long.”
“Not at all,” Eddie replies warmly, standing up with Adele in his arms before passing her over to me. “I was just enjoying some time with this little lady.”
I take the baby back in my arms with a quiet sigh of relief.
Eddie clearly cares about her, but leaving Adele with him isn’t quite the same as handing her over to the nursery staff.
He looked after her during the most delicate phase of her life and, while I’m genuinely grateful he did such an exemplary job, the idea that they might share the same kind of bond she and I have feels… off, somehow.
Francis steps closer, watching me with a look I can only describe as oddly vulnerable.
All his usual arrogance seems to have melted away; right now, he’s just a nervous dad about to head off on a date, leaving his daughter at home for the first time.
If I didn’t know him as well as I do by now, I’d almost think he didn’t really want to go, but I’m not naive enough to believe that. An evening out with the charming young nurse is probably exactly what he needs after months of stress and worry.
He bends down to kiss the top of her head, his hand brushing gently along her back, and as he does, I suddenly find myself wrapped in a cloud of scent, half apple shampoo, half pure Francis, and for a moment, it leaves me completely dazed.
“Thanks for stepping in, Jack. I promise I won’t be too late, and if anything comes up, don’t hesitate to call me, okay? We’ll be at Scarlett Green for dinner, it’s on Noel Street, just round the corner.”
Eddie, who’s now slipping on his green overcoat, beams happily and gives us a cheerful wave goodbye.
My throat is so dry I can barely manage a nod in reply. Adele is still nestled in my arms, unusually calm, when all of a sudden, her face scrunches up, and without the slightest warning, she throws up her entire dinner all over me.
Broccoli purée and baked salmon.