(No Control | Holding Me Ransom - 67 - Been Away For Ages)

December 2015

The next week flies, full of Jingle Ball performances, promo appearances, dinner with friends and a last minute (and unexpected) about-turn from Modest to release History, rather than Infinity, as our last single. It's an abrupt change of direction (pardon the pun) and results in a fun and rather impromptu day in LA filming the video for it. Then before I know it, I'm back at LAX again, waiting to board a plane back to Manchester. I can't wait to see Jess again, but it'll have to wait another couple of days as I'm heading to Mum's first before our last few commitments are fulfilled and the hiatus officially begins.

As I stow my luggage in the overhead locker and take my seat in the first class section of the plane, I become aware of someone staring at me. I have a sort of intuition for it now, the same as when people are taking photos of me when they think I can't see. I turn my head and catch the eye of the passenger sitting to my left who smiles hesitantly and then looks away, a flush creeping up her cheeks. She looks a similar age to me, and she appears to be flying on her own. Something about the way she is acting - all jittery and nervous - tells me this girl could very well be a fan. 

I really hope I'm not about to be photographed asleep, and posted all over social media. Apart from looking like absolute shit today - tired, spotty and unwashed hair - I don't really want a welcoming committee at Manchester airport, which is what will undoubtedly happen if any fans get wind of my destination. I don't mind posing for photos and signing stuff, but some days I just want to be left alone to look rough, and today is one of those days.

My fears are pretty much unfounded though. I fall asleep not long after take off and wake after several hours for the inflight meal. It's only once I've eaten, and accidentally catch her eye, that I strike up a conversation with her and realise that although she is a massive fan (her name is Alex), she's talking to me like I'm a normal person and we have some good conversation over the course of the flight. She reminds me in a way of Jess, as I imagine some of the things Jess has said to me about playing it cool on the outside but screaming hysterically on the inside, and at one point I nearly let slip that she reminds me of my girlfriend, but catch myself at the very last second and manage to cover up my almost- faux-pas. She asks me very politely if I mind posing for a photo, and even though I know I look like a hormonal, greasy mess, I oblige, but ask her to refrain from posting anything online until we are safely off the flight and out of the airport. As I smile for the photos I think of Jess, and how she will be really excited for a fellow fan, and chuckle to myself.

When we land in Manchester I give Alex a hug goodbye, and then make my way through Arrivals, collect my luggage and head straight out to my waiting car.

"Evening, H," Paul greets me as he helps me load my things into the boot. "Good flight?" he asks, when we are both strapped into our seats and he indicates and pulls out of the collection bay.

"Not bad," I reply. "Just glad to be home, though. Looking forward to a good night's sleep in a comfy bed." Even the poshest, most expensive hotels are never as comfy as my own bed. I ease my phone out of my pocket and call Jess, glancing at my watch as it begins to ring. It's just past five pm so she should have finished work by now.

"Hi Squidge," she answers, and I can hear traffic noise in the background - she must be walking to the tube.

"Hi baby. Just letting you know I've landed. How was your day?"

"Long," she sighs. "But fine. How was your flight?"

"Long," I grin. "But fine. I was sitting next to a fan on the way back. She reminded me a bit of you, actually. She played it very cool - no tears, no screaming, no hysterics. Just polite chatting and a few photos."

"Yeah, she won't have been cool inside, trust me," she laughs. "She'll probably be screaming down the phone to her friends right about now. Or tweeting random capital letters that don't make any sense."

"I asked her not to post any pictures until I was clear of the airport," I tell her. "I'm sure everyone will figure out I'm at Mum's though, if she tweets the flight details." She murmurs her agreement.

"When will you be back in London?" she asks.

"Well we've got the BBC Music Awards on Thursday, so I'll probably head down that morning," I muse. "I want to spend some time with Mum and Robin."

If I'm honest I don't know if I'll be able to keep away from Jess for that long. If I leave Mum's Thursday morning before the Awards it means I won't get to see Jess until Friday night. 

"OK," she says lightly, but I can hear the faintest note of disappointment in her answer, which makes me want to hold her even more.

"Are you free on Friday night?" I suggest. "I know we went out for dinner when you were over in LA but that feels like ages ago. I want to take you on another date."

"A date sounds great," she says, her tone lifting. "Anywhere in particular?"

"Well, that's up to you. We can do a celebrity hangout if you want, where we're likely to get papped, or we can stay under the radar."

"Under the radar," she answers, without any hesitation. "I won't have seen you for almost three weeks. I don't want to have to be looking over my shoulder constantly for paparazzi or fans. I want us to be able to enjoy ourselves properly." She lowers her voice and murmurs, "I've missed you so much, Harry."

I feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Not just because she's missed me, but because she chose privacy over publicity. 

"Have I ever told you how much I love you?" I murmur back.

"Many times, but feel free to tell me again."

"I fucking love you, Jessica Bradshaw," I announce, and I can see Paul's face in the rearview mirror grinning to himself. "I love you for loving me like you do."

"Love me like you dooooo, lo-lo-love me like you dooooo," she sings.

"That is definitely our song," I declare.

"Yep," she agrees. "Harry, I've got to go, I've just reached the tube station. As soon as I walk down the steps it'll cut me off."

"No worries, baby. I'll ring you tonight before I go to bed."

"Great. Give my love to everyone," she says, and we say our goodbyes. 

It's only half an hour from the airport to Mum's, and as we pull into the drive and I see the house lit up with delicate Christmas lights and the tree twinkling in the window I can feel myself mentally and physically unwinding before I have even stepped out of the car.

Ten minutes later I am on the sofa with my feet up, a mince pie in one hand and a glass of red in the other.

"It's so lovely to have you back here," Mum smiles, making herself comfy on the sofa next to me. "If only for a couple of days. I thought you would have wanted to get back to London to see Jess."

"I might go back a day early," I admit. "Surprise her or something."

Mum eyes me carefully as I stare into my wine glass. "Is everything OK with you and Jess?" she asks after a moment.

"Yeah, everything's great," I reply, and then out of nowhere all the New Year stuff comes tumbling out - the argument we had, Jess's plans with her friends and my frustration at her not being able to join me. 

"I understand it's disappointing for you," Mum says when I've finished. "But you can't expect her to drop everything for you, not when she's already made plans. I think it's good that she has her own life and her own friends away outside of your relationship - you don't like it when girls get too clingy and want to see you all the time. Jess's independence is what you love about her."

"I know," I mutter grudgingly. "I just wish she understood how important this is to me."

"I'm sure she does, Harry," Mum responds, looking at me over the top of her glass. "But if she's made plans with her friends, those are important to her, too. She might not be making life changing decisions, but that doesn't mean her holiday is less important than yours. And you'll have me and Robin there; it's not like you'll be going on your own."

"I know," I sigh again. "I suppose I just wish I'd asked her before she booked her holiday. That way it wouldn't have been an issue."

"Hindsight is a wonderful thing," Mum smiles. "And don't forget you'll see her at Christmas. Or is that off the table now, too?"

"No, I think that's still on," I reply. "We didn't really talk about that in detail, but she didn't say no. I'll confirm it with her later."

"Well don't leave it too late," Mum warns. "You don't want another situation like this one. Have you thought about what you're getting her for Christmas?"

"I'm getting her a car. Which reminds me," I add, and ignore the look of surprise on Mum's face as I pull my phone out of my pocket and open my emails to find the confirmation of the car purchase, "I need to arrange a delivery time. Is it OK if it gets delivered straight here?"

"Of course," she replies. "Wow. That's an extravagant choice."

"Do you think it's too much?" I frown, looking up.

"I think it's a very generous gift," she answers diplomatically. "If it were for anyone else I think I'd be concerned that you were rushing into it, but you know I think the world of Jess. And I happen to think she's one of the most honest, genuine and down to earth people I have ever met."

"She pays her way," I assure her. "She's always trying to pay for stuff, or split the bill when we go out. She won't let me pay for her flights or anything. Even though I wish she would." 

"She's independent," Mum says again, with a shrug. "I think it's wonderful that she isn't expectant, or complacent."

"I just don't want her to feel as though she has to try and keep up with my lifestyle though," I confess. "I don't have to worry about money, but I know she lives on a budget and saves up for stuff she wants. I don't want her to blow her hard earned money on keeping up with me when I can easily afford to pay for her."

"I understand that," Mum smiles. "I'm sure there's a way for you to sort these things out if you talk openly about it."

My mind wanders to our time in LA together, and the memory of waking up next to her and going to sleep next to her and never wanting her to go. I know I want her with me all the time. I want her to live with me, in my house in London. I'm not going to be touring for a while, so it's not as if I would be away for long periods leaving her in my house on her own. But would she want to? As Mum said, she's so fiercely independent. Would she see this as a step too far, too fast? Would she miss her own space? Or would she be as excited as me at the prospect of long, lazy weekend mornings, late night films, cooking dinner for each other every night? 

I ponder this over the next day or so. The more I think about it, and the more I talk to Jess on the phone and hear how much she is missing me, the more I think she would be up for it. I don't say anything to Mum or Robin about it, as I feel this should be a private conversation between me and Jess. Plus, if she turns me down I'll look like a right pleb if I've been telling everyone about it. 

By Wednesday lunchtime I am desperate to see her, and know there's no way I want to wait until Friday night. I pack my stuff up, say goodbye to Mum and Robin and head back down to London, arriving home at teatime to a chilly, empty house. I crank the heating up (rather pointlessly really as I'll be surprising Jess at her flat very soon), have a shower, put on a clean tshirt and jeans and decide to pick up some flowers and bottle of wine on the way. I'm just pulling my shoes on when my phone lights up with a Snapchat from her: she's on her sofa looking adorably cute, and I'm sure she's wearing my Jack Wills hoodie. Her caption is 'missing you.'

I go to send a selfie back, and then realise that if I send her a picture of me she'll see straight away that I'm at home and not at Mum's, and the whole surprise will be ruined. I switch the camera, take a photo of a black screen and scrawl with my finger, Aawww is that my old hoodie?  I add a badly drawn heart underneath and press send. Just as I'm putting on my jacket I get another picture back, this time of a wine glass and her TV in the background: Yep! Can't wait for Thursday 

Well at least she's at home. It would have been awkward if I'd rocked up with my grand gesture only to find she's out with Callie or something.

What are you doing tonight? Apart from missing me? xx, I type onto another black screen. I hope she doesn't get suspicious that I'm not sending selfies.

I get a picture of her fluffy socks a minute later, with the words, Watching a film and drinking wine.

I'm sitting in my car on the driveway as I type back, You're so cute. I love you.

I'm never going to get there at this rate. I ignore the next message that comes through as I've already started driving, and head straight into Hampstead to a small independent gift shop that's still open that I know sells flowers. I choose a huge bunch of pink and white blooms, and then stop at the off-licence to buy a nice bottle of red wine. By the time I'm pulling into Jess's car park it's past dinner time and I am absolutely starving. I pick up the flowers and the wine, hurry to the main door and press her buzzer. I'm expecting to hear her voice over the intercom and for a second consider putting on a silly accent and winding her up, but then I see the shape of her coming down the stairs towards the main door my heart skips several beats. She pulls the front door open and I peek over the top of the flowers and smile a little self-consciously.

"Surprise!"

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How's everyone doing? I have no exciting news - I'm just homeschooling, working and doing my best to keep two kids entertained. If you want to check out my instagram to see what I've been up to I'm scooby_snacks94 . I don't post much, but feel free to follow :)