My hands trembled as I fumbled with my phone to get Harry's name on the screen. I could barely see, thanks to the tears in my eyes. I left Sarah squealing with Gary and walked out into Reception while I waited as it rang. Harry picked up a few moments later.

"Hi." He sounded nervous.

"Hi." I sounded like a wreck.

"Are you alright?" he asked, uncertainly.

"No," I choked. "I'm a fucķing mess! That song..."

There was a pause on the other end of the phone, and I sniffed.

"Was it - is it about me? Perfect, I mean?" I asked, my voice wobbling.

"Yeah," he said softly, as I let out a sob. He sounded unsure. "Is that OK?" he asked.

"OK?" I echoed. "OK?! It's the most... the most... amazing thing anyone has ever done for me! And those flowers! It's... it's beyond romantic! It's - it's..."

"Perfect?" he asked shyly, and I let out a laugh.

"Yeah," I chuckled, through my tears. "It's perfect. Thank you. For all of it."

He let out a large breath. "Thank God for that. When I heard you crying I thought you were upset. I was shıtting myself."

"No, I'm just overwhelmed," I said shakily. "But in the best possible way."

He chuckled. "OK, good."

"Who else knows it's about me?" I asked, wiping my face.

"Um, pretty much everyone who had anything to do with it," he said shyly. "And my family, obviously. I've been dying to tell you for so long, but I didn't want you to think I was trying to manipulate you with it. I wanted you to hear it and understand it without my intervention. And I wanted you to love it."

"I do love it!" I cried, feeling fresh tears burning in my eyes again. "I think it's my new favourite. It's brilliant."

"Even more than Little White Lies?" he asked, sounding taken aback.

I thought for a moment. "OK, maybe not more than Little White Lies," I conceded. "But a very close second."

"You've only heard it once," he reminded me.

"I've lived it for the past eight months," I reminded him, smiling again. "We both have."

"That's true," he replied, and I could hear the smile in his voice too. It made my stomach flip.

"I wish I could hug you right now," I whispered.

"I wish I could kiss you right now," he whispered back, and my stomach somersaulted sharply. "I miss you," he added, so quietly it was barely audible.

"I miss you too," I said, in the same tone.

"I could maybe try and fly back on the nineteenth, between the Irish shows..," he began.

"I'm working," I sighed. "And I don't want us to have to rush anything, do you? It's only a few more days. You're home on the twenty-third aren't you? That's next Friday and I've booked it off work, because I've got an accounting conference on that Saturday and Sunday, so I won't be around then."

"Seriously?" He sounded so disappointed I wanted even more to throw my arms around him.

"Yeah," I said, glumly. "But we've got all day Friday to talk about... everything. Unless you'd rather wait until the tour is over and your diary is clear?"

"No," he answered quickly. "I think we've left it long enough."

"Me too," I agreed.

So the date was set for Friday the twenty-third. I couldn't wait to see him.

*****

I spoke to Harry briefly over the weekend, and half expected him to turn up without warning on my doorstep on Monday the nineteenth, but he didn't, and I was glad. I was working on my laptop on Tuesday evening when my phone rang around nine o'clock. It was Sarah.

"Have you seen Twitter?" she said breathlessly, before I'd even finished saying hello.

My heart sank. These words only ever meant heartbreak for me.

"Have you spoken to Harry?!" she demanded, without letting me answer her first question.

"No," I said, starting to feel sick. "Why, what's up?"

"One Direction have cancelled their Belfast show tonight because Liam is ill!" she wailed.

"What?!" I said in disbelief. "Are you sure?"

I knew they never cancelled shows - this was huge.

"The details are a bit sketchy at the moment, but apparently some man came onto the stage and announced the show wouldn't be going ahead because Liam had been taken ill! What's wrong with him?"

"I have no idea," I said softly, my mind racing. If there was one thing I had learned, it was that life with One Direction was never straightforward. And it was almost always never how it seemed on the outside.

"Really?" she said, sceptically. "Or is that Modest speak for 'I can't tell you'?"

"No - honestly, I don't have a clue," I told her. "I haven't heard from Harry today."

We ended the call and I rang Harry, but it went straight to voicemail, and I laid my phone on the table and tried not to panic. I stared at my laptop screen for about five minutes, and then picked my phone up and sent him a quick text.

To: Harry: Hey, I've just heard about the show being cancelled. I hope everything's OK. Ring me if you want to talk, and give my love to Liam xx

I didn't hear anything back, and about half past ten I opened up Twitter and looked at Liam's profile, but there was nothing on there. I checked Louis' page, and saw he had tweeted about ten minutes earlier:

@Louis_Tomlinson: We're so so sorry for what happened tonight, it was out of our control ! Lots of love to Liam and thank you for being so understanding !

I quickly tapped onto Harry's profile and saw he had also tweeted:

@Harry_Styles: Deepest apologies to everyone at the show tonight in Belfast. Very disappointed, but unfortunately these things happen. We're very sorry. H

I stared at his follow button for a moment, then came to my senses and checked out Niall's Twitter too. He hadn't yet tweeted anything, but I was sure it wouldn't be long before he did. I went on a couple of 1D Update accounts but they all seemed to be as confused as everyone else. People were speculating about what had happened to Liam, but no one seemed to have a clue.

I didn't want to hassle Harry, as I knew he would be in touch when he could, and it was just after eleven o'clock, after I'd been in bed about ten minutes, when he finally called.

"Hi," I answered.

"Hi," he said, flatly. "Did I wake you?"

"No, I'm in bed though," I replied, and he gave a murmur of appreciation. "Are you OK? Is Liam alright?" I asked, choosing to ignore it.

He paused. "Mmm. Yeah. He's OK. I'm OK."

He didn't sound convinced.

"What's happened?" I asked, tentatively.

He gave an uncomfortable sigh. "Liam and Sophia have split up. It happened yesterday. Liam was in a pretty bad way. He had a bit of a meltdown earlier and collapsed backstage. He's OK, but the doctors think it was brought on by stress and exhaustion. He was insisting he would be well enough to go on tonight, so we hung on until the very last minute before we announced that we had to cancel the show. He was in a bad way. He's still in hospital now."

"Oh my God," I breathed. "Poor Liam."

"Yeah. He's now got the guilt of letting the fans down on top of everything else. He's devastated."

"Oh no," I said, sympathetically. "What's the official statement going to be?"

"Stomach bug," Harry said, flatly. "He doesn't need the world knowing his drama."

"Fair enough," I nodded.

"Yeah. But all of this means we've had to rearrange the show... for Friday."

"This Friday?!" I said in dismay.

"Yeah," he said miserably.

"Oh no," I said again, as the impact of this sank in.

"I know," he said. "I'm so sorry."

I knew I couldn't get out of the conference on Saturday, and the next day Harry was free was the twenty-eighth, which was a Wednesday, and I was working.

"Can you get that day off?" he asked.

"I doubt it," I sighed. "I had to plead with the HR Manager to authorise Friday because we've got lots of people off at the moment, because everyone's at the conference at the weekend. They won't let me have another day. It'll leave the department short-staffed. Besides, it'll take you hours to get back down to London from Newcastle. Then you're back up north in Sheffield the following day. You'll be exhausted."

"It would be worth it," he said softly, and I smiled.

"I don't think I'll be able to anyway," I said.

"Well, you know what this means, don't you?" he said.

"What?"

"You'll have to come to our last concert now, in Sheffield. You can't miss it. And it might be your only opportunity to hear Perfect live."

"Ummm...," I hesitated.

"If you're worried about being pictured there, you'll be lost in the crowd," he said quickly. "Everyone's coming. All our families and friends. And then some of my family will be coming back to my mum's house afterwards, for a sort of celebration. Please come," he said, softly. "Come up to my mum's and stay for the weekend. We'll have loads of privacy to talk everything through. No pressure."

"No pressure, but we're staying at your mum's," I teased.

"You can stay at a hotel if you prefer," he offered immediately. "I just want you there so badly."

"It's fine. I'm just teasing you," I said. "I'd love to stay at your mum's."

"Great," he sighed, sounding relieved.

"You seem really stressed," I said, gently.

"I am," he sighed. "Today has been horrible. I just need a hot shower and a comfy bed. I can't wait until our last show is over and I can just relax for a couple of weeks before we go to America."

"What's your schedule like for November?" I asked.

"Busy, but I have some time off too. I can't remember the date off the top of my head that we fly to the US, but it's around the fifteenth I think. Then I fly back home again on the sixth of December."

The subject of Christmas floated unspoken between us. I wasn't sure what Harry's plans were, but I was certain they would involve seeing his mum. I wasn't sure about his dad, as he didn't really mention him much to me. I hadn't made any plans yet, but I always went to my parents' house for Christmas and usually spent most of the day bickering with Calvin.

We chatted for another fifteen minutes and then Harry rang off, and although I promised to ask if I could change my day off, when I got to work the following day my request was denied as I'd known it would be.

I was disappointed it would now be a further ten days until I would see Harry again, but in the grand scheme of things it wasn't really the end of the world.

I kept in close contact with him over the next week, and agreed I would leave London at the crack of dawn on the morning of Saturday the thirty-first to get to Holmes Chapel as early as possible.

My alarm was set for six, and I crawled out of bed and into the shower, standing under the jets for almost fifteen minutes in an attempt to wake up. I had packed my bag the night before so it was ready to go, and once I had dried my hair and pulled on a pair of jeans and a comfy hoodie I threw my stuff in my car, stopped at the Costa Coffee on Haverstock Hill to pick up a large Gingerbread Latte and an almond croissant, and then began the journey up the M1 to Harry's.

He rang me round nine o'clock, sounding sexy and sleepy, and asked how long I would be, and by this point I was only an hour away.

"Have you had breakfast?" he asked, his voice vibrating through the car speakers and making goosebumps rise on my skin.

"Well, a croissant and a latte from Costa," I said.

"Gingerbread?"

"Of course."

He chuckled. "You're so predictable."

"Watch it, Styles," I warned. "One of these days I might just surprise you."

"OK," he chuckled. "Mum's gonna do a cooked breakfast, so I'll tell her to aim for ten-ish."

"I hope she isn't going to any trouble," I said.

"Nah, she loves an excuse to feed me up."

"OK, well the roads are clear so I won't be long," I smiled.

"Can't wait," he said, softly. "I'm gonna get in the shower, so I'll see you in a bit."

I pulled my thoughts away from Harry in the shower and turned the radio volume up to distract me. I sang along at the top of my voice, and finally pulled into the driveway just after ten. I grabbed my bag and walked up to the front door and rang the bell.

My stomach fluttered as I saw the shape of Harry behind the glass approaching the door, and felt a sharp pinch inside as he opened the door and gave me a shy smile.

"Hi," he said. "You made good time."

"Yeah, there was no traffic," I said, equally as shyly, as he reached down and took my bag from me and then gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. My heart missed several beats. I stepped inside the hall and he shut the door behind me, set my bag down at the foot of the stairs and ushered me through to the kitchen where Anne was taking dishes containing sausages, bacon and hash browns out of the oven.

She greeted me warmly, and behind us Gemma appeared, still in her pyjamas and dressing gown.

"Dressed for the occasion," Harry remarked, and she stuck her tongue out at him and pulled up the hood of her dressing gown. Robin finished laying the table and we all sat down and tucked into a full English breakfast.

"Are you excited for the show tonight, Jess?" Anne asked.

"She's nervous about being seen," Harry answered for me.

"I'll be fine," I said quickly. "I'm looking forward to it."

He beamed at me across the table as Anne said, "there will be so many people there. I spoke to Johannah last night. All the boys' families will be there."

"Johannah Deakin?!" I said, as calmly as I could, but it didn't fool Harry and he smirked down at his plate at my barely-disguised fangirling.

It had been a while, OK? Don't judge.

"Will - will Lottie be there?" I asked casually, and Harry's grin widened as he took a bite of toast.

I kicked him under the table.

"Ow!" Gemma winced.

"Oh my God, sorry!" I squealed as Harry cracked up laughing.

"What's going on?" Anne asked, good-naturedly.

"Jess is getting giddy over meeting Louis' family tonight, and she knows I'm onto it, so she kicked me but accidentally got Gemma instead," Harry said, gleefully.

"Sorry," I said, shamefully, to Anne and Gemma.

"Oh Harry, stop embarrassing the poor girl," Anne chastised softly as Gemma caught my eye and smiled.

"What? I'm just telling you what happened!" Harry protested, still grinning.

"No one's fooled!" Anne scolded, smiling affectionately at him, and he wrinkled his nose at her in return.

"How's Liam?" I asked after we'd finished breakfast and were helping Anne load the plates into the dishwasher.

"Sad," Harry admitted. "But ultimately it was a mutual decision. Things weren't working out and they both knew it, they just didn't want to admit it. He took it hard when it finally all fell apart."

"Kind of bad timing," I remarked.

"Yeah, I think she wanted to wait until the end of the tour, but he wouldn't let it drop. He knew she was distant and he just kept on and on at her until she said she didn't feel the same anymore."

"I hope he's OK," I said as we walked through to the lounge and sat down on the sofa.

"He is. Or at least, he will be. But I don't want to talk about Liam," he said, looking at me intensely and making my insides quiver.

"OK," I nodded.

"I want to talk about me and you," he said, softly.

----****----

If you'd like to know a little bit more about me, and the writing process for No Control, head over to Best1DFic's account to the Author Interview book - they asked me to take part and published my interview the other day. Let me know what you think! I can't link it here but I posted it on my profile :) xx