(No Control | Holding Me Ransom - You Bring Me Home)

April 2026 

"Hello, can I book a private delivery suite please? My wife is thirty six weeks pregnant and we live in London but we'll be visiting Cambridge in a couple of weeks' time to see her parents so I would like to make sure we have a suite booked just in case she goes into labour while we're there. Thank you, yes I'll hold." 

The lady on the phone takes all my details - or rather, Jess's details. They assure me there are a number of private suites available and that ours is booked for the entire duration of our visit to Cambridge. Jess has been adamant that our third child won't arrive early but although she is right about most things she is also incredibly stubborn sometimes and will not listen to reason. I decide against telling her about the private booking at Rosie Hospital in Cambridge, and instead save the number in my phone and hope we won't need to use it. 

I had pretty much forgotten about it until I feel a sharp nudge in my back early one morning a couple of weeks later whilst lying in bed at Jess's parents house.

"Harry! Harry! My waters have broken!"

I roll over in bed. Jess is lying on her side, staring at me with wide eyes. 

"What?!" I'm half asleep, part way through a dream about shooting at the enemy in an abandoned warehouse in the middle east. I really need to stop playing video games late at night with Calvin.

"Well, either that or I've wet the bed," she offers. 

A quick check beneath the duvet confirms a large wet patch underneath her nightie. I pause, trying to gather my thoughts away from enemy care packages and into the impending arrival of a baby.

"Bloody hell. OK, um, let me think... we need to get you to hospital. Have you rung the maternity ward?" 

Her eyes are panicked. "I don't even have the number for anywhere in Cambridge! I wasn't expecting to go into labour this early! And I don't fancy attempting to make it back to London!" 

Oh how glorious it is to be right once every few years. 

"Good job I did my research then, isn't it," I beam. I pick up my phone, scroll to the maternity admissions number, press Call and hand it to Jess. "There's a maternity hospital in Cambridge - Rosie Hospital. The labour ward number is in my phone." 

"How did you...?" 

She is staring at me while the number connects, a look of disbelief on her face.

"You were so adamant she wouldn't arrive early, but I just wanted to be prepared," I shrug. "I brought your hospital bag with us, too, just in case. It's in the boot of the car, so we're ready to go."

"Oh hi, my waters have broken," Jess says into the phone. "Just checking it's OK to come in...? I'm not sure, I've just woken up about two minutes ago to a wet bed... No contractions yet."

I watch Jess as she conducts this phone call with the midwife, marvelling at how calm she is now that the issue of the hospital has been solved. Usually it is Jess putting out fires so I am always incredibly smug when it is my turn. Jess is giving her details, and then a look of surprise passes over her face and she looks over at me. "Did he? Oh, wow, I had no idea.... yes, I suppose he is a keeper. Just don't tell him I said that, haha." 

She hangs up the phone and surveys me with a mixture of exasperation and amusement. 

"You booked a private suite? I'm not due for another two weeks!"

"Yet here we are, about to head down there," I point out, barely concealing my smugness. "Do you need a hand getting dressed?"

"I'm having a shower first," she announces, rolling slowly out of bed and peeling off her wet nightie. 

"Is that wise? I think we should leave as soon as possible. At this time of day the traffic will be bad." 

Oh God, I sound like her dad.

"You sound like my dad," she mutters. "I'll be five minutes, tops. I just want to freshen up." 

While she switches the shower on I call down to Martha who is already giving our two children, Oliver and Emma, their breakfast in the kitchen. "Jess's waters have broken. We're just going to head to the hospital." 

"Oh goodness!" she calls back. "OK love - do you need anything? Where's Jess?" 

"Exactly where you would expect her to be when she's just gone into labour: she's in the shower," I inform Martha. There is a pause. 

"Of course she is." Martha's face appears at the bottom of the stairs and we exchange looks. "She's thirty eight weeks, isn't she?"

"Yes, and the hospital bag is in the car," I tell her. "The private suite at Rosie Hospital is already booked. We're all set. I just need the one who's actually having the baby to cooperate." 

Martha smiles. "We can dream, Harry. We can dream." 

While I head back to the bedroom to strip the sheets off the bed, Martha climbs the stairs and fishes out some clean bedding. 

"I'll do that, Harry," she says, taking the dirty sheets out of my hands and shooing me along the corridor. "You concentrate on being there for Jess."

"Would you mind looking after Oliver and Emma?" I ask.

"Yes of course we'll watch the kids," she replies as Jess appears out of the bathroom, pulling a face of discomfort. "Well, Alan's leaving for work in a minute, but I'm free all day so don't worry. Just let us know if there is anything else you need. Oh - hello love! How are you feeling?"

"Uncomfortable," she grimaces.

"Are you having contractions?" I ask.

"Only mild," she says dismissively. "And only two so far. Stop stressing and get in the shower while I get dressed."

"I'll do no such thing," I protest. "The kids are downstairs having breakfast with your dad and your bag's in the car, ready to go. Come on, hurry up."

"Harry," she begins, "it's going to take me a few minutes to get dressed. Go and have a shower, and we'll leave once I've had breakfast. This baby isn't going to be making an appearance in the next half hour, and I'm not going through all of this on an empty stomach."

I open my mouth to argue but Martha interjects.

"You'd better do as she says, Harry. You know how stubborn she is. I'll go and make some toast. You can take it with you in the car if you like. Unless you need a hand getting dressed, love?"

I look up in alarm, and am relieved she is talking to Jess. 

"I can manage," Jess replies, a little shortly. "I'm not leaving this house until you've had a shower, Harry, so the longer you argue with me, the longer we'll be here." 

Martha is right: there is no point arguing with Jess when she's in stubborn mode. 

"Fine. I'll be two minutes. Don't attempt to walk down the stairs if you're having a contraction - wait for me and I'll help you." 

I have the quickest shower in the history of mankind, taking a moment to check my reflection in the mirror as a dad of two for the last time, before wrapping a towel around my waist and hurrying back along the landing to our bedroom. Jess is already dressed and walking towards the stairs.

"I'll throw some clothes on," I tell her.

"I'll wait downstairs." 

I literally yank a pair of joggers on and a tshirt, and grab a hoodie before practically running down the stairs two at a time.

"Where's Daddy?" Oliver's voice is asking as I hit the bottom stair.

"I'm here, I'm here," I announce. "Come on, let's go."

"Wait, I'm just having some toast," Jess says calmly. "And I could murder a cup of tea." 

Lord, give me strength. 

"Jess," I begin, slowly and calmly, closing my eyes, "you are in labour. Your waters have broken. The hospital is about twenty minutes away, and likely to be longer at this time of the morning. Please just get in the car and eat your breakfast on the way." 

I open my eyes to see her watching me, chewing her toast slowly. 

"Will it stop you stressing?" 

"Yes," I promise, relieved that she is finally starting to comply.

"Can we come?" Ollie asks, looking up expectantly.

"I need you two to stay here and look after Nan," Jess says seriously. "And make sure Grandad leaves for work on time. Do you think you can do that for me?" 

Emma and Oliver nod solemnly, their eyes wide as they relish the importance of their mission.

As Jess gets to her feet, toast in hand, Martha puts two takeaway mugs of tea on the table for us. Alan looks up from his paper and addresses me.

"Which way are you going to the hospital?"

"I've got it programmed into the Sat Nav," I assure him. 

"There are some roadworks by the Bull and Dog pub," Alan offers. "I'd avoid that way if I were you. Go down Milton Road instead, it'll be far quicker." 

"I'm sure we'll be fine," Jess interjects in a strangled voice. She leans forward onto the table and takes a few deep breaths. 

"I think you need to get going, Harry," Martha murmurs in my ear as I rub Jess's back. She puts a little plastic box containing some buttered toast and jam on the table next to the mugs and I quickly give the kids a kiss each and pick up my car keys. 

"Be good for Nan," Jess instructs Oliver and Emma, straightening up and sounding normal again. "I don't want any reports of misbehaviour."

Alan ushers us to the front door with instructions to ring him if we need anything because, "I'm only down the road from the hospital."

I promise we will, and once Jess is safely in the car I back out of the drive, remembering the first time I did this with Jess in the passenger seat and a gaggle of waiting fans by the gate. Thankfully there is no audience today. There is, however, a queue of traffic on the A14, just as I had feared at rush hour. 

Jess lets out a groan and arches her back and I reach for her hand, knowing there is nothing I can do to help with the pain but feeling the need to touch her. 

"Breathe through it - deep breaths. You're doing great, baby. Don't be afraid to yell if it'll make you feel better."

"Mmmmm fuck, it hurts!" she growls. "How far away are we? I need some pain relief." 

"Only a few miles. It might take a few minutes longer in rush hour, but don't panic. We'll get there." 

We wait in stationary traffic for a minute or two, and once Jess's contraction has passed she sticks her head out of the window trying to see further ahead. 

"It looks like beyond the traffic lights is clear," she says. "I don't know why there's such a backlog." 

Before I can answer, the phone rings: Alan Bradshaw calling. 

"Hi Alan." 

"Are you on Milton Road?" Alan enquires. 

I have no idea where Milton Road is or whether we are on it. I look at Jess. 

"We're on the A14," she supplies. "We're in a queue leading up to the lights, just by the Bull and Dog." 

Oh shit, didn't he say to avoid the Bull and Dog pub? Fucking hell.

"Well you'll be there a while," he replies. "The traffic lights are on the blink again, I meant to tell you. It's causing chaos amidst those roadworks. They can never go more than six months without breaking down, and no one ever bothers to report it. I gave up taking that route to work years ago."

Jess and I exchange amused glances as Alan gets into his stride. 

"Honestly. What do my taxes pay for? Not traffic light repairs, I'll tell you that much. They're more likely spent on free housing for some jobsworth who can't get out of bed in the morning, than essential road maintenance. I wrote a strongly worded letter to the council a couple of years back, and do you know I never even got a reply? Not even an acknowledgement! This country is going to the dogs."

"That's good to know, Dad," Jess answers wryly, and her face contorts again. 

At the other end of the line someone is obviously trying to prise the handset from Alan Bradshaw's fingers, and he is reluctant to relinquish it. 

"Local issues are everyone's concern, Martha!" he says, his voice muffled as though he is holding his hand over the microphone. "If nobody ever complained, nothing would ever get done." 

Jess groans again, gripping the edges of the car seat, her knuckles white and her face scrunched up in pain. 

"If you can turn off by the Shell garage you'll avoid the majority of the traffic," Alan supplies, his voice now clear again. He has obviously won possession of the phone. "It might only save you a few minutes, but if it gets you to the hospital a bit quicker..."

"On it." 

I indicate and pull out immediately into a small gap in the adjacent lane, much to the outrage of a BMW driver behind who beeps furiously and gives me the finger. I give him one right back in the rearview mirror. Prick.

"Is someone sounding their horn unnecessarily?" Alan demands, his voice loaded with indignation. "It's rife these days! You can't even go out for a quiet Sunday drive anymore to take in the scenery without some idiot in a flash car taking offence and zooming past you with their horn blaring. It should be considered a breach of the peace." 

If the situation wasn't so stressful Jess and I would be cackling silently at this snippet of pure Alan Bradshaw comedy. But she is clearly in a lot of pain and my priority is to get her into the right hands as quickly as possible before I start to panic. I turn off the A14 and the sat nav recalculates its route. 

"Anyway love, I'd better let you go," Alan is saying. "Ring us if there's any news. I'll keep my mobile on my desk."

"Will do, Dad," Jess affirms, and just as I cut the call off we hear Martha's exasperated voice. "Honestly, Alan, there is a time and a place for a discussion about road tax and noise pollution, and right now is not it!" 

We're only about a minute away from the hospital turning now, and I glance at Jess as I slow down on the approach to a roundabout. 

"Are you OK? When was your last contraction?" 

"Another one's coming now," she answers in a strangled voice. 

Oh fuck - she barely finished the last one. This doesn't sound good.

"How - how far apart are they?" I ask, wanting to kick myself for listening to Alan Bradshaw's rage at the local council rather than timing my wife's contractions.

"About a minute," she pants. "Harry... Harry, I really want to push." 

I nearly crash the car.

"What?!" I yelp.

"I need to - I can't help it!" 

The turning into the hospital is right ahead, thank God. 

"No - OK, fuck, think... just - just cross your legs or something, we're almost there." 

"It's not like holding in a wee!" she snaps as I make a sharp left into the car park. "I can't cross my legs to keep a baby in!" No time to slow down for the speed ramp - I swear my arse leaves the seat for second and comes down with a bump. With hindsight this probably isn't the best thing to be doing to avoid the baby flying out in the front seat.

"I know, I know, I'm sorry, that was a stupid thing to say," I ramble, my eyes darting left and right looking for a space. "Look, here's a parking space, right outside. I'll help you, come on. Just don't push yet, or this kid will pop out on the pavement."

She lets out another feral growl as I lurch into the space and slam the brakes on. I leap out of the car and grab the hospital bag from the boot, arriving at the passenger door with my hair hanging in my face and sweat running down my back. 

Instead of a face contorted in pain, I am met by a hysterical laugh. 

"Oh God - your face!" Jess gasps, leaning backwards to manoeuvre her legs out of the car. "I can't deal - you look like a villain in a Disney movie!" 

She doesn't stop giggling as I help her walk very slowly, one step at a time, towards the main entrance. Her laughter dissolves abruptly as we reach the automatic doors and another contraction hits. She stops in her tracks, holding the wall as she groans again. 

"Just a few more steps," I coax her. "And then we can get you into a wheelchair or something to get you to the labour ward."

"I don't need a wheelchair, I need a bloody midwife!" she rages, suddenly furious with me again. "I want to push, Harry, I need to push." 

"I know," I nod seriously, pleadingly, "but just hang on until we get you inside and you can see a doctor." 

"Midwife," she corrects. Even amidst her pain, her stubbornness takes precedent. I smirk inwardly at how funny she is without realising how funny she is. God, I love her. 

I manage to get her through the doors and immediately a midwife hurries over to us. Before she can even open her mouth, Jess tells her, "I need to push. He wants me to cross my legs, but I think it's a bit late for that." 

The midwife chuckles. "No problem. I'll grab a wheelchair and take you straight through to be examined." 

Jess makes no refusal to the wheelchair this time and gives the midwife her details while I dutifully push her along the corridor to our private suite, glad I am finally being of use. 

"I'm Anna," the midwife is saying to Jess. "Can you manage to get up onto the bed for me, Jessica, and we'll just see how many centimetres dilated you are." 

As Jess is helped onto the bed another woman enters the room in a nurse's outfit and pulls on some plastic gloves. 

"Hi, Mrs Styles," she greets Jess. "I'm Sylvia, and I'm just going to examine you quickly to see what's going on, OK? Just slip your leggings and knickers off and I'll be as gentle as I can."

"Do you have any pain relief?" Jess begs. "I'm sort of struggling a bit." 

I look away as Jess lies back and allows Sylvia to examine her, while breathing in the gas and air presented to her by Anna. It isn't long before she pulls the mask away from her face. "I can feel another contraction coming!"

"You're fully dilated, my lovely, so if you're ready to push, give it all you've got," Sylvia advises. "Chin on your chest, push down into your bottom, nice deep breaths in between." 

I grab Jess's hand and she clamps her fingers around mine as she squeezes her eyes shut and pushes. I can't lie - this part always terrifies me a little. Seeing Jess in such pain, even know I know it is the most natural thing in the world, is frightening. I try to rationalise it and I know this isn't about me, so I keep a lid on my emotions and try not to do anything to piss Jess off. It's about all I'm good for right now.

Sylvia is murmuring words of encouragement to Jess all through the contraction and I listen intently, taking my own deep breaths as discreetly as possible while trying not to panic.

"You doing OK there, Dad?" Sylvia asks me, grinning as Jess flops back on the bed out of the breath, the latest contraction over for a moment.

"Yeah, just didn't realise it was all happening quite so quickly," I confess. "I thought it would be hours yet. I feel bad for telling her to cross her legs now."

"Us women know our own bodies best," Sylvia smiles knowingly. "This is your third, according to your notes? Jess is a pro at this, then. Do you know what you're having?"

"A baby, hopefully," I joke weakly, attempting a bit of comic relief. 

Jess rolls her eyes impatiently. 

"A girl. Oh God - another one's coming."

"Fantastic," Sylvia smiles. "Same again: long hard push when you're ready. Don't forget to breathe."

With Sylvia holding one of Jess's hands and me holding the other, Jess pushes again, a blood vessel in her head looking ready to pop. 

"Well done baby," I whisper. "Keep going... just a couple more seconds... you're so strong, you've got this."

She says nothing but squeezes my hand, and when she relaxes a minute later, panting again, I whisper in her ear, "You're amazing - what you're doing - bearing this level of pain to bring our daughter into the world - it's just incredible. It's overwhelming to watch. I wish I could help you in some way." 

"Just keep hold of my hand and let me break your fingers," she retorts, and I chuckle.

"Seems like a good deal to me."

"You're doing brilliantly, Jess," Sylvia says. "One more push and you should be able to see the head."

Woah, what? That quick?!

"Already?" Jess yelps in disbelief. "Seriously?"

"This baby isn't hanging around," Sylvia confirms. "Let me know when you feel the next contraction and I'll be ready."

Jess and I exchange looks. I know this piece of information is exactly what she needs to spur her on, and knowing this will all be over in a few minutes will give her the extra bit of fire she needs to push through this. 

She whimpers again a minute later and grabs my hand tightly, her chin down on her chest and her face screwed up in pain as she puts all her energy into the push. I say nothing but let her squeeze my hand as hard as she needs to.

"The head's out," Sylvia announces as Jess lets her head flop back onto the pillow. I can't resist leaning forward to take a peek - Jess has always said it's fine for me to look at any part of this - and sure enough I can see a tiny head with a smattering of dark hair. I immediately feel a lump form in my throat. There is no feeling quite like this - holding your wife's hand while she brings your child into the world. 

"No pushing just for a moment," Sylvia says softly. "Let your body adjust, take a few deep breaths. I don't want you to tear."

Jess looks at me for reassurance and I struggle to contain my emotion, kissing the back of her hand. "She's nearly here," I whisper. "You're doing amazingly, baby. I'm so proud of you both."

"I love you," she whispers back, suddenly looking young and vulnerable. It makes my lower lip tremble for a split second before I pull myself together. I need to be strong for her.

"OK Jess, with the next contraction I want you to give a small push when I say, and let me guide you through it," Sylvia instructs.

It's only a few moments before Jess confirms she is ready again, and within a couple of seconds there is a weird sort of squelchy sound and right before my eyes my daughter arrives into the world into the hands of two midwives, looking a strange purpley colour and covered in slime. 

She is immediately immersed in towels, being rubbed vigorously until she lets out a little cry, and I realise I have tears streaming down my face as I let out a sign of relief. She's here - our little baby is here. 

"There we go!" Sylvia exclaims. "A beautiful little girl, at eight thirty-seven a.m. Let's give her to mum for a cuddle. Do you have a name for her yet?"

"Lily," we answer in unison.

"Beautiful," Anna remarks, smiling as she places her on Jess's chest. I'm sobbing now, unable to contain my emotion. I have never felt love like this before.

"She's so perfect... Look at her. She looks just like you." 

Jess beams up at me, wiping a tear from my cheek. 

"She's got your nose," she remarks. "And your dark hair." 

Anna comes over to congratulate us, beaming. "Seven pounds and thirteen ounces," she tells us. "She's absolutely beautiful. She was certainly keen to get into the world."

"I was afraid she was going to arrive in the car on the way here," Jess admits. "It all seemed to progress very quickly. I only realised I was in labour about an hour ago when my waters broke."

"First babies usually take longer, but often your subsequent births happen a lot quicker," Sylvia supplies. "You were lucky you arrived when you did."

I kiss them both, my wonderful wife and my incredible daughter, overcome with love and emotion. I barely notice the midwives going about their duties, cutting Lily's cord, measuring her and conducting their tests. Jess delivers the afterbirth and is immediately successful in breastfeeding Lily, and eventually once everyone is satisfied with mum and baby, we are left alone. 

"I suppose we'd better deliver the news," Jess says after a few minutes of silent staring at Lily. "Everyone will be waiting to hear we're all OK." 

"Do you want to do it, or shall I?"

Historically it has been my job to ring around the immediate family and let them know of our latest arrival. 

"You can," she smiles. 

I ring Mum first - she answers in her Very Calm Voice which means she has been waiting for the phone to ring ever since she got my text earlier this morning. My voice breaks before I have even got the first sentence out. 

"Mum? She's here. She's just been born, about twenty minutes ago." 

"Oh Harry!" Mum's voice breaks too. "Congratulations, both of you. How's Jess? Is she OK?" 

"Yeah she's great. They're both great. She's just so perfect, Mum. Seven pounds thirteen." 

"Oh how wonderful, sweetheart. Oh I'm so relieved it all went well. I can't wait to meet her." 

"I can't wait for you to meet her either." 

We are both sobbing, and Jess watches us with tears in her eyes. 

"Have you got a name yet?" Mum asks, and I feel my chest swell again with emotion. 

"Lily," I answer. "Lily Anne Styles." 

"Oh!" 

There is silence on the other end of the phone apart from Mum's sobbing. 

"We wanted her to have your name," I add unnecessarily.

There is further sobbing, and then a muffled, "Thank you. I am absolutely honoured. And so touched. It's beautiful, Harry. I can't believe it." 

"I cant think of anyone else I would want her to be named after," I reply truthfully.

Jess and I decided, early on in the pregnancy, that if we had another daughter her middle name would be Anne, after my mum. Whatever first name we chose had to fit nicely with Anne in the middle. Hearing Mum's reaction confirms we made the best decision.

~~~

Jess's mum comes to the hospital around 3pm with a baby car seat, and once the midwives are happy to discharge Jess and Lily, we head back to the Bradshaws' house to introduce Lily to her big brother and sister. 

It isn't long before Callie and Calvin arrive too, desperate to meet their new niece. It is a little later in the evening, once we have eaten and Emma and Oliver are safely in bed, that Calvin and Callie have their own announcement.

"Um, everyone? We actually have some news we'd like to share with you," Calvin begins, looking round nervously. It's the first time I've ever seen Calvin looking awkward in the whole time I've known him. Jess grabs my hand, literally on the edge of her seat, and I have a suspicion she already knows what is about to be said.

"We're really excited to meet baby Lily today," Calvin say slowly, "and also really excited to tell you that we're expecting a baby of our own in December."

Jess leaps off the sofa with an exclamation of "I knew it!" (how she knew it I'm not sure) and flings her arms around Callie first, and then Calvin. 

"It's really early days," Callie beams, hugging Jess back. "I'm not even twelve weeks yet. But we were just so excited to tell you, we couldn't wait any longer."

"This is the best news ever," Jess is saying. "I'm so, so happy for you. I know how much you've both wanted this, for so long." 

"Thanks, sis," Calvin smiles as I stand up to shake his hand and he gives me a nod of understanding. "We're over the moon." 

We don't get a minute to ourselves - not that I mind in the slightest - until gone nine o'clock once the guests have left. Jess is feeding Lily in the bedroom and I slide onto the bed next to her, watching Jess and listening to the quiet snuffles coming from Lily as she feeds. 

"You're a natural," I whisper.

"I should hope so, after three!" she grins.

We are silent for a few moments, both gazing down at our new daughter. 

"Great news about your brother and Callie," I remark.

"Yeah," she agrees softly. "I always felt a bit guilty every time we announced another pregnancy, knowing how much they both wanted kids. I always worried we were rubbing their noses in it. I'm so happy they're finally starting their own family."

"I never thought they'd last," I admit, not sure how Jess will react to this. "Considering they started as a hook up the night you fell out with Callie, I always thought it would be doomed from the beginning."

"I think Callie is the only one who has ever kept Calvin in check and on his toes, both at the same time," Jess points out.

"Bit like you and me, you mean?" I tease, and she pulls a face at me.

"She's the only one who gave him what he dished out," she clarifies. "I think they're a perfect match - now I'm over the weirdness of my best friend sleeping with my brother."

"Well, I'm pleased for them too," I agree. "And I'm pleased that our three will have some cousins on your side, too as well as on mine."

(Gemma and Michal became parents a couple of years ago which gave Oliver and Emma their first cousin, so I'm happy Jess will have that connection too.)

"We just need to make sure Emma doesn't feel left out, as the middle child," she is saying. "My parents always handled that really well with me, but I still had an overwhelming desire to prove myself. I want to make sure she never feels she needs to overachieve to win our attention."

"Or... we could just have another one, to make the scores even," I tease, watching her carefully.

"I don't know how I would manage four kids!" she protests a little too loudly, and Lily opens her eyes suddenly.

"Just as perfectly as we'll manage three," I respond, carefully tracing the tip of my finger down Lily's tiny little nose, causing her eyes to close slowly again. "Together."

"We said we'd stop at three," she reminds me.

"I know we did. But if there's one thing I've learned, it's that you never know what the future holds. I know we said that three would be perfect, but all I'm saying is, let's not rule anything out right this minute." 

We gaze down at Lily again who is now fast asleep after her feed, nestled safely in Jess's arms. She is so perfect, our family is perfect, everything is just perfect. In the back of my mind I know we will need to let our PR know about Lily's arrival and release the announcement to the world, like we did with the other two, but right now I am cushioned in the haze and fuzz of becoming a dad again. Nothing else matters right now.

Jess gives a soft sigh, a dreamy smile breaking on her face.

"Well... maybe, one day, in the future," she muses. "Maybe just one more." 

And maybe that day will come, or maybe it won't come. Who knows? But what I do know is, I am the luckiest man in the world. Whatever the future brings, I am equipped to deal with it with Jess, Oliver, Emma and Lily at my side. 

The world awaits. 

---***---

Series completed 31/12/2024