(No Control | Holding Me Ransom - 80. Here We Go Again)

I fly out of Heathrow the following evening, and get a text from Louis as I disembark the plane at LAX: Briana's having contractions but still at home. Just on my way there now.

Nice one mate, I text back immediately. Keep me posted, hope all goes well. 

There is a mix up with the cars at the airport and I end up hanging around waiting amidst a gaggle of fans after Mum and Robin go on ahead in the first car. Of course it's filmed and posted on Twitter immediately which brightens my day no end, and even reaches Jess who has already seen the video by the time I text her to tell her I've landed. She's excited to hear that Briana is in labour and I promise to keep in touch. I head straight to bed when I get back to my house and when I wake up it takes me a minute to work out where I am, what day it is and what the time is in London.

Louis has sent another text: Briana is in slow labour, which basically means nothing will be happening soon. We're at the hospital now but it could be hours yet.

Do you need anything? I've just landed in LA and I'm at my house, I reply.

Nah I'm good thanks mate, but it would be great to see you once we've got the little one home, he sends back immediately.

Yeah I'll definitely see you before I go home, I tell him.

I glance at the clock again, and call Jess.

"Hi Squidge," she answers brightly. "Any news on Briana yet?"

"Hi baby. No, apparently she's in slow labour, whatever that means. Louis didn't think it would be happening any time soon."

"How was your flight?" 

"Fine, but bumpy coming into LA," I reply. "Then I had to wait for my car with a load of hysterical fans. That wasn't fun."

She chuckles softly. "It could have been a lot worse, if they had been more rowdy. At least you got away unscathed."

"True," I agree. "What are you doing?"

"Work," she grumbles. "Although I've just finished. I'm about to make a brew and watch some TV."

"Everything OK at home?" 

"Yeah, fine." Her tone sounds unsure, despite her reply.

"Are you OK?" I frown. "You sound a bit off."

"Do I? No, I'm fine." She hesitates a split second. "Have you seen the update accounts on Twitter speculating about you and Kendall again?"

"What?" I groan. "I've not even spoken to her yet! What are they saying now?"

"That you've gone over to LA to spend your birthday with her," she mutters, the resentment evident in her voice.

"Of course, it couldn't possibly be that it's also Jeff's birthday, and maybe I'm coming over to celebrate that?" I mutter sarcastically, annoyed at the tabloids for printing their incessant drivel.

"Hmph," she huffs, grudgingly. "What are your plans, anyway?"

"I'm looking at a new house tomorrow, having lunch with Cindy and Rande on Friday," I tick off on my fingers, "then it's Jeff's birthday party on Saturday and I'm meeting with Christopher Nolan on Monday."

"Busy few days. Are you seeing Kendall at all?"

"She's going to Jeff's party," I tell her. "And I'll try and catch up with her at some point for dinner, probably. I thought we could all hang out when you come over. I think she still feels bad over the New Year stuff, and she wants to speak to you in person about it properly."

"She doesn't need to feel bad about that," Jess sighs. "It's over and done with now. No point raking it all up again."

"I know, but she's a worrier," I explain. "She doesn't want any bad feeling between you."

"Of course there isn't any bad feeling," she insists. "It would be good to see her though, so I'm up for hanging out whenever you want."

"OK, I'll text her at some point to arrange it," I agree.

"So, tell me about this new house you're going to see," she says, and the smile is back in her voice again. "Where is it?"

"Not a million miles from here," I reply. "Here, as in my current house. But it's more spacious, has a nicer pool, it's more private and it has stunning views," I tell her. "The master bedroom has floor to ceiling glass windows and the bathrooms are huge. I'll send you the estate agent's pictures. I've been meaning to show you for ages, but I just haven't got around to it. I was thinking we could look at it together when you arrive? I'd like to know your opinion on it."

She sounds excited about this, and after we ring off I send her the links to the pictures of the house I'm seeing tomorrow. I also email the realtor again and arrange a second viewing for when Jess is with me, so confident am I that I'll like it.

I wake up the following morning to a couple of texts from Louis, one of which is a photo of a tiny baby wrapped in a white woollen blanket, a little hat perched on his head. Meet Freddie Reign Tomlinson!

I ring him immediately and to my surprise, he answers.

"Congratulations, mate!" I practically sing. "How are you? How's Briana? How's Freddie?"

"Great, great and amazing," he sighs. "I've had about an hour's sleep in the last two days - it's just been fucking mental."

"Are you still at the hospital?" I ask.

"Nah I've just got home. Briana is getting checked out by the doctors before she's discharged. I came home first to get my head down for a couple of hours so that I can take over and give her a break when they get here. You'll have to come and meet him one day soon."

"Yeah definitely," I nod. "Let me know as soon as you're all settled and up for visitors."

"Will do, mate, I will do."

I text Jess after my call to Louis to let her know the news, and then head off with Mum and Robin to view the new property. We spend over an hour there, and I have to admit, I'm completely sold. I want Jess to see it first before I commit to anything but I have such a good feeling about it. I can see us living here when I'm working over here, I can imagine her pratting about in the pool with me and sipping prosecco on a sunlounger, I can imagine fucking her in the master bedroom looking out across LA. 

I let the realtor know I already have a second viewing arranged and that I'm very interested, and as we're arriving back at my house my phone lights up with a call from Karen. It's been a while since we spoke, as I'm in the process of winding up my contract with Modest.

"Hey Karen, how are things?" I greet her.

"Not brilliant," she answers, in her usual businesslike manner. "I wanted to let you know The Sun newspaper is running a story about you and a girl named Pandora -"

"What?" I frown. Hers was the last name I was expecting to hear, especially after the New Year rumours about me and Kendall, and the yacht pictures.

"That insufferable jobsworth Dan Wootton," she elaborates, "has found a source who claims you spent the night with Pandora at your house, and there are photographs of her leaving the following morning." She hesitates for a second. "Harry, please tell me there is an innocent explanation for this?"

Although I'm annoyed, I laugh at loud at the hint of desperation in her voice. I'd bet one of my cars that the last thing Karen wants in the final stages of our contract is the unwanted publicity this could bring. "Well, she did spend the night," I chuckle. "Or the evening at least. But she was a guest at our housewarming and left her phone here by accident. She called back in to fetch it the next morning. Jess was here the whole time."

Karen actually lets out a squeak of relief. "Glad to hear it's not going to give me any more grey hairs," she laughs tightly. 

"Sorry to disappoint," I grin. "I think I would have liked to have left you a few more, as parting gift."

"I have more than enough thanks to the escapades of you and your bandmates over the last five years," she responds in a monotone.

"Who was the worst?" I press, enjoying being able to wind Karen up without fear of recrimination. "Or which was the worst? Which scandal?"

"I honestly couldn't pick," she responds dryly, although I now detect a hint of amusement hidden beneath the indifference. 

"You have such a choice," I point out. 

"I do indeed. The smoking video in Peru in 2014 probably stands out as the highlight of my career, though."

"That was nothing to do with me," I remind her. "That was Zayn and Louis."

"Yes, trying to navigate the legalities surrounding your eligibility to enter various countries around the world due to alleged drug use was such a valuable use of my time," she continues as though I haven't spoken. "Anyway Harry, I just wanted to let you know about the story. If you're happy to ignore it I'll file it without comment."

"Fine by me."

I'd better ring Jess to let her know, just so she's prepared. And as the phone rings I wonder whether there is an actual source or whether it's just Dan Wootton talking out of his arse again, as he loves to do.

"Remember the pap that was outside my house a couple of weeks ago and saw Pandora leaving?" I tell Jess once she has answered. "Well he wasn't a pap at all, he was just some chancer passing by, but he sold the pictures to the Sun - no doubt for a tidy sum - and now that silly little fart Dan Wootton has done some digging and apparently found a source who claims Pandora and I spent the night together."

There is a beat of silence. Then, "What? But that's ridiculous! You were in bed with me, and she was nowhere near the house - she'd gone home!"

"I know that, and you know that. But the rest of the world is about to be informed that she left my house the following day after a night of passion. I just wanted to warn you."

More silence.

"Jess?" I prompt. "Are you still there? Hello?"

"I'm here," she snaps furiously. 

I bite my lip, wondering how best to handle this. She really doesn't sound happy. "Um, are you OK?"

"Fine."

Uh oh. When a woman says fine like that, it means the polar opposite of fine.

"Are you upset?" I ask gently, and I hear her take a deep breath on the other end of the line before letting it all out as a sigh.

"No... Sorry. I'm fine. I'm just annoyed on your behalf, that's all. I just wish they'd leave you alone."

"I can cope with it," I shrug. "I just don't want it to upset you again. I just feel like everything's going so well for us now. I don't want anything to mess it up again."

"It won't," she reassures me.

"I'm actually relieved you were here with me when she was supposedly in my bed," I tell her, thinking about this as I'm saying the words out loud. "It's the one thing that scares me about this whole situation - there are only so many times that you're going to trust my word before you start having doubts."

"I wouldn't believe a press story," she says firmly. "I know I had a wobble over Kendall, but that was because of the pictures. Up until they came out I didn't bat an eyelid."

She's already put up with so much shit from me. And I know it will never stop.

"I know I'm repeating myself to the point of boredom," I begin, "but I really am sorry for all the shit you have to put up with for being my girlfriend-"

"Well no one knows I'm your girlfriend, so I guess I've got the better end of the deal," she interrupts me abruptly, shutting me down in such an un-Jess-like way that I start to wonder if something else is going on that she isn't sharing with me.

"Baby, are you sure you're OK about this?" I probe gently.

"I'm just being stupid, ignore me," she mutters, and then adds quietly, "It's that time of the month."

"Awww, baby, why didn't you say?" I sigh, softly. 

"I miss you," she mumbles, half sobbing. "And I'm hormonal. And there's another stupid story about to go viral about you. It's not a great combination."

Fuck, I miss her too. I wish this hadn't happened now. I wish I could be there with her to talk through it face to face, to support her. I know there will be hundreds of other stories like this in the future and I know I won't be there to hold her hand through every single one. But that doesn't stop me feeling it every single time.

"There are some Double Deckers in the cupboard above the sink," I tell her, feeling glad that I made the effort to do this. "I bought a multi-pack for you before I left. Get on the sofa and watch a film or something, with a brew. You'll feel loads better."

"Thank you," she sobs. "I'm sorry I'm such a wreck today. You don't need me falling apart like this over a non-story."

"I'm here for you, just like you're here for me," I remind her. "You don't need to hide any of these emotions from me, ok? Remember, I've been there. I've just had to put up with it for five years so I'm used to it now. You're not, and that's OK."

"I love you," she chokes, and I hear the sound of the kettle boiling and a cup clinking against the worktop. 

"I love you too. Now go and get back on the sofa and get comfy. I wish I was there with you."

"Me too," she sniffs. "It's so pathetic that I can't go more than a couple of days without missing you, but seriously, I feel like my right arm's been cut off."

"Why don't you get some friends round or something while I'm away?" I suggest. "I don't like the idea of you sitting at home on your own feeling miserable. Invite whoever you want."

"Thanks." Another sniff. "I might just do that."

"You know you can call me any time of the day or night," I assure her. "I mean it."

We chat a few minutes more before we say goodbye, and the first thing I do is ring my favourite florist (whom I seem to have on speed dial these days) and order a bouquet of flowers to be delivered immediately, with the precise note, I'm still never the one to bring you flowers. Miss you baby. Squidge xxx

I know she'll appreciate the Squidge acknowledgement, and hopefully it will make her smile.

I pull out an outfit for lunch with Cindy and Rande at Cafe Habana and receive a text from Louis about an hour and a half before I'm due to leave: We're home and up for visitors whenever you want to call in.

I glance at my watch. I'm free now? I text back. I won't stay long but feel free to tell me to fuck off if you're up to your ears in shitty nappies.

I mean, I am, but that doesn't mean you're not welcome, he answers immediately.

See you in 15, I type quickly, and grab my keys and phone and jump in the car. 

When I arrive Louis ushers me into his front room where Briana is curled up in an armchair, a tiny bundle on her chest. The room is filled with bouquets of flowers, cards and gifts still in their wrapping. A small, long, wicker basket with a hood and handles is sitting on a wooden stand in one corner, a blue baby blanket with a picture of a teddy stitched onto the corner is laid over the arm of one of the sofas and an open pack of nappies rests against the edge of the hearth. There is a multipack of baby wipes on the coffee table next to a couple of small fabric baby toys, some sort of a square cloth on the floor by Briana's feet and an identical one draped over her shoulder. There is a baby bouncer tucked in the corner under the window, a large, brightly coloured play mat with fabric arcs over the top with toys hanging from it (presumably for Freddie to lie underneath) and a square, fabric book on one of the chairs with a ladybird on the front, presumably for Freddie to read? I had no idea babies required so much stuff considering the size of them. The whole room has been taken over by the smallest person in the house. 

"Come in, come in," Louis is saying in hushed tones. "He's asleep but probably not for long. It's about two hours since his last feed."

"Sounds like his dad," I remark.

"Yeah if his dad was Niall," Louis quips.

I give Briana a wave across the room and she waves back and smiles shyly. "You look fantastic," I tell her, thinking she probably needs to hear this if she's surviving on no sleep.

"I look like death," she replies quietly, with a wry grin. "But thank you for being kind."

Before either of us can say anything else the small bundle stirs and lets out a whimper.

"Uh oh," Louis says. "Brace yourselves." I look over at Briana and she lifts the bundle up in her arms. A tiny little face is visible from within the blanket, mouth wide open, eyes squeezed shut. Freddie lets out a wail that could raise the dead, and Briana gets to her feet and hands him to Louis. 

"I'll get the bottle," she says.

"You sure? We can leave the room to give you some privacy if you want to try feeding him again yourself," Louis offers.

"No it's OK," she replies, and he nods as he bounces gently up and down, rocking Freddie as his wails echo around the room.

"That's some pair of lungs," I remark.

"Like his dad," he grins, inclining his head to acknowledge my earlier comment, and I grin.

"Hopefully that's all he got from you," I tease. "Fingers crossed he looks like his mum."

"Dickhead," Louis mutters, unable to conceal his smirk.

"Shh - language!" I scold him, and he sits down on the sofa as Briana enters the room again with a bottle in her hand. She hands it to Louis who plugs it into Freddie's searching mouth, and all is quiet again in the world. 

"Would you like a drink, Harry?" Briana offers, but I shake my head.

"No thanks," I reply. "Do you need anything? I can make a cup of tea if you like..?"

"Yeah... Briana doesn't really do tea," Louis supplies, wrinkling his nose and winking at Briana who rolls her eyes. "I've tried to get her on it, but on her first attempt she put the cup in the microwave so I gave it up as a lost cause."

"I think I might take a nap," Briana says, and with an awkward smile and a wave, she leaves the room. I wait until she is out of earshot before I speak.

"How are things? I mean really?"

"You know what mate, they're good," Louis replies, a smile on his face that can only be described as dreamy. "It's fucking exhausting. It's weird, living under the same roof as her, even though it's only temporary. It's a million miles away from what I imagined I'd be doing this time last year. But I don't think I'd change it for the world." He looks down at the baby in his arms that is guzzling milk as though he might never get the chance at a decent meal, and strokes his little cheek with the back of his index finger. 

"You're a natural," I tell him, and he beams with pride. 

"Don't tell anyone, but I'm just winging it," he whispers, more to Freddie than to me.

It's almost an hour before Briana returns from her nap, with a coffee for each of us. I've had a little hold of Freddie after he'd finished his bottle but before he fell asleep again, and returned him safely to Louis' arms. Just as I take a sip of my coffee my phone pings with a Snapchat from Jess. It's a photo of the flowers I sent her (I've told Louis all about the Pandora saga) and I can't resist sending her a quick video in return. 

I hate selfies, especially where I'm filming myself. I always feel really aware of my own face. 

"So, I just called in to see Louis and Freddie," I tell the camera, and turn my back on Louis so he is in the background of my shot with Freddie asleep on his chest. He gives a thumbs up. I fumble to switch back to the rear camera again to show all the bouquets in the living room. "And it's flowers all round, it seems." I end the video here before I make a fool of myself and send it to Jess without watching it back - no point putting myself through that. 

I then take a couple of photos of Freddie, with Louis and Briana's permission of course, including one of me holding him that Louis takes for me just before I leave. I have to admit, Freddie is downright adorable. 

"Don't let that one get leaked," Louis remarks darkly. "Imagine the reaction if you were seen holding my kid? Doesn't bear thinking about." 

He's not wrong. 

I hand Freddie back to Louis and send the picture of me holding Freddie to Jess on Snapchat with the caption I might just have to sneak him in my case and bring him home with me.

I receive a photo of her legs beneath a blanket with cuteness overload written on the screen as I'm climbing into my car, and quickly send a video back of me with some stupid flowery crown thing on my head. "I'm not cute. I'm manly."

Her response is immediate: I was talking about Freddie! 

I type a response back to her and almost don't send it because it gives me a weird lurch of nerves, euphoria and hysteria all rolled into one. Then I press send anyway. 

Good job you like babies, cos I want loads one day

Her reply makes me sing all the way to Cafe Habana: We're on the same page, then

I'm still feeling giddy later that evening when I arrive home, and decide to tweet for the first time in a while; something that only Jess will understand, something generic and cryptic, that she will know is aimed at her. 

@Harry_Styles: Flowers all round.

---***---

Hello... it's me... I was wondering if after all these years you'd like an update...

Thanks to anyone still reading this. I hope you're well?? I know I've been hopeless with updating this book, but two things happened today that started a chain of events that gave me the kick I needed: 

First, I received an email from NaNoWriMo. If you've read my author's notes on previous chapters you might remember me talking about this. It's the one thing that motivates and inspires me to write, and after reading their email about Camp NaNoWriMo (basically a word count target for the month of April) I decided there and then to set myself the target of completing this book by the end of April. I logged on to Wattpad immediately to check where the story is up to, and to try to estimate the number of words I would need to write to complete it. When I opened the draft chapters, I discovered seven, YES, SEVEN, unpublished chapters that I must have written in November 2021 and started editing last summer before I forgot about then. This spurred me into action, and after a quick recce of the remaining parts of the story, I estimated it will take approximately 36,000 words to complete, which is now my target for April. Through March I will be re-reading all the No Control books to remind myself of all the details, ready to smash this writing target in April and finally complete this book and the series. 

Secondly, I realised I'd had this flash of inspiration on none other than World Book Day. It must be fate! So I decided there would be no better time to edit and post this chapter and start the ball rolling. 

Anyway, sorry for the long winded waffle. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and are looking forward to the coming updates. You'll be able to follow my writing progress on Twitter if you like (@scoobysnacks_94) or you can add me on NaNoWriMo if you're a fellow writer! 

Lots of love xxx