Song: 'Strong' - One Direction

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Following my incredible birthday celebrations, the six of us leave the tranquility of Californian wine country but not before I revisit my vines to cut the first set of grape clusters to be produced into wine.  We thank Lisa and her team for their generous hospitality and with hugs all round and promises to keep in touch for regular updates on the production progress, we set off in a convoy of two cars towards LA.

The rest of the week is spent relaxing, sightseeing, visiting the beach and sampling more of the lovely eateries that LA has to offer.  Harry's placement of his family firmly above everything else in his life shows in how much he adores spending time with them.  He stresses more than anything that it is the love that comes from these individuals closest to him that enables him to keep his fame in perspective.

Over the past few years, apart from Anne's support, I have become used to it being just my Dad and I.  The fact that the size of my family has more than doubled since the beginning of this year fills me with immeasurable happiness.  Mum is never far from my thoughts but being in the company of these wonderful caring people who make Dad smile is something that I thought I would never see again and I cherish it deeply.  As the weekend approaches and Dad is due to fly back to Spain, there is little sadness in our goodbye because knowing Harry's thoughts on family match my own, I will see him again very soon for another family gathering.

The Where We Are Tour recommences the following week on 11th September with three shows at the Rose Bowl, Pasadena.  It will finish in three weeks time at the Sun Life Stadium in Miami and visit places along the way including New Orleans, Charlotte and Tampa.  The Las Vegas show is due to be pretty special.  It is to be held at the MGM Grand Garden Arena as part of the iHeartRadio Music Festival.

Anne, Robin and Gemma stay for the opening performance of the last leg of the tour on the 11th and then return to London the day after.  The loss of my familiar support network worries me a little.  The slow pace to life we have enjoyed is about to increase dramatically.  This is what I have come for, to experience life on tour with Harry, but although I have spent a couple of nights on the European leg, nothing can prepare me for what I am about to witness.  With literally a big kick up the backside, I am shoved right out of my comfort zone and into the madness that is One Direction. 

However, I start as I mean to go on by making every effort to build good relationships with the other boys, their girlfriends, the band, friends and the crew.  I have enjoyed Harry during the first two weeks of my visit and so put no pressure on him now.  This is his life and it is so important to him and therefore me that I am determined not be a burden.  His work/life balance is totally upside down and I see it as my responsibility to add some stability to our downtime. 

Days take on a familiar routine.  We arrive at luxury hotels where the band take over one or two floors that effectively become self-contained living.  Even corridors become part of living space for congregating, holding meetings or general socialising.  Fans are fully aware where the entourage is staying and camp outside.  In some places, the boys become confined to the hotel.

Due to the late nights, mornings are usually fairly restful with free time for everyone to do his or her own thing.  Harry and I use the pool, gym and tennis courts if available.  I browse the shops and sightsee where I can, whilst he is happy to laze around the rooms playing FIFA with the others, watching films, record final vocals for the new album or catch up on his social media.   

Around mid-afternoon on concert days, we travel to the venue together.  Upon arriving, the band are busy with sound check, industry meetings, fan meet and greets and family and friends entertaining if they are in attendance.

Having an access all areas pass, I love to wander aimlessly around the stadium before the doors open.  The atmosphere is electric with everyone milling around doing checks, making sure everything is where it is supposed to be and working as it should.  With my camera in hand, I catch random moments and personal memories and enjoy soaking up the atmosphere from every angle.

Some days at sound check, I sit in the farthest reaches of the stadium and lose myself in the rehearsals.  The echoes of an empty stadium filled with their harmonising voices that reverberate around the space is truly a mesmerising sound.

I immediately gel with Harry's great friend and the band's stylist, Lou and her young daughter Lux.  I spend a good deal of time with them both, especially in the afternoons where I look after Lux so Lou can work. A few nights, I even decide not to go to the concert because she is a delightful little girl to be around and it is good for me to get away occasionally from the mayhem going on.  We go swimming in the hotel pool, out for a milkshake or snuggle up and watch Disney films around the campfire that is actually a pile of Uncle Harry's t-shirts! 

This temporary way of living is unique to say the least.  Personally, I could not do it for an extended period and when I think about how much this group of people has lived like this I am in awe of their resolve. I have found out pretty quickly that living out of a suitcase is not as glamorous as it looks!

Harry the entertainer has the adrenaline of performing tearing through him long after a concert has finished and his high remains well into the early hours.  He doesn't sleep much, often preferring to head down to the gym around midnight with Mark the personal trainer to work out.  Only then does he return exhausted to our bed and sinks in beside me to sleep.  I notice in this period that our sex life has diminished to practically nil.  He never instigates anything and if I try he turns away or says that he is too tired.  I remind myself that when he has toured before he has been alone and having me along for the ride takes some adjusting on his part as well.

Also, the One Direction machine is relentless.  I am not just talking about the boys but the brand.  The fact that the tour is finishing is irrelevant; there will be little down time to enjoy until Christmas.  There is so much to take in, I cannot remember it all but recall from Harry listing it out for me.  New album, free single download of Fireproof, five pre-release single downloads for album pre-orders, videos to shoot for the two singles - 'Steal My Girl' in LA immediately after tour ends and 'Night Changes' later on in London.  There will be huge European promo with whole days of back to back interviews before coming back to the US in November for more of the same and in particular a special appearance in Orlando.  They are singing on the New Band Aid 30 single and also an announcement of an eight-month worldwide tour during 2015.  I glance on my phone into Harry's 2015 diary and it is already full to the brim and overflowing for the whole year.    

We return to the hotel one night after a concert with Niall whilst Louis, Zayn and Liam go out to a club.  Fans are waiting patiently behind rope cordons and as soon as the cars come into sight the screaming begins.  Our car pulls up by the hotel but cannot get immediately outside the entrance.  As always, Harry turns to me to calmly pep talk me about keeping close and not letting go of his hand.  I am still not used to being part of the attention he receives and he knows how apprehensive I feel in crowded situations. 

Niall steps out first, stopping to sign a couple of autographs and take a few pictures, before making his way into the hotel with no problems.  We follow on behind with security both in front and behind us. 

The relentless calling over and over of Harry's name is mind blowing.  I keep my head down and squeeze tightly his hand.  The crowd is closer than usual and it feels intimidating.  Harry waves and says 'hellos' then he spots a young fan that we saw earlier.  Feeling grateful that she has camped out all day in the searing heat, he stops to sign an autograph for her. 

The next few seconds literally flash before my eyes.  The group around the girl reaches out towards us, waving their cameras, phones and notepads in Harry's face in the hope of gaining his attention.  The inadequacy of the rope cordon does nothing to hold the crowd and seeing the surge of fans on our side, the group of fans on the opposite side also ploughs forward.  Before anyone can react, we are totally swamped. 

I breath steadily because I know I am safe; my hand is still firmly in Harry's and I have literally melted into his back breathing him in through his t-shirt for comfort.  We are pushed, pulled and cajoled but suddenly I feel his hand slip out of my grasp.  I scrabble around desperately trying to reconnect with it but I cannot even see him though the sea of people.

I just need to keep shuffling forward towards the entrance.  I glance round for security behind me but as I turn, Paddy is nowhere to be seen.  The affect of not looking where I am going whilst still moving forward causes me to lose my footing.  Unable to stop my momentum, I fall downward and am swallowed up by bodies above me.  Feet trample over me, a boot kicks into my stomach, a heel scrapes my face and I curl into a tight ball to protect myself as my body is being battered underfoot.  Pain starts to shoot up my side and the memory it brings flooding back stalls my breathing and I begin to panic. 

Through the melee carries Harry's voice desperately screaming my name and shouting instructions to security.  I am flying on a dizzy wave and feel as though I am about to pass out when a blast of air and light sweep down from above.  I peer up from behind my hands to see five young women standing around me with their arms linked and attempting to push the crowd back.  There are shocked gasps and shouting, 'someone is hurt, step back.'  One of the women is on her knees beside me, cradling my head and telling me it is going to be ok.  Then I see a dismayed looking Paddy reach down and lift me.  He barges through bodies to force a gap to open up.  All I hear as we enter into the hotel foyer is echoes of 'Harry is going to be so fucking mad at us.'

We make our way up to the suite and despite the utter chaos all around me, I feel surprisingly placid on the inside.  Initially, Harry also appears calm; his focus is on me but I sense a definite unease in the air. 

Not wishing to make an already tense situation worse, I try to brush aside any fuss but Harry insists on the tour doctor coming to check me over.  A bruised cheek, sprained wrist, where I tried to soften my fall, and a cut arm is the diagnosis.  There is no other discomfort although my side is a little tender.  I have suffered worse pain in my life and am not worried about a couple of feeble kicks. 

It is nearly midnight when the doctor departs, leaving firm instructions that I should rest.  He is clearly aiming this statement at Harry who has been asking me a lot of questions about what happened.

I have no idea how long I have been asleep but shouting wakes me.  Stiffness in my side has kicked in and it takes me a while to even sit up in bed.  I can hear a number of muffled voices coming from the adjacent room but the most prominent is Harry's.  I manage to stand on shaky legs and make my way over to the door, opening it quietly. 

Harry has assembled the security team and is giving them what can only be described as a right royal rollicking.  I have never heard him so angry.  The Head of Security, Paul, is trying to reason with him and as I step into the room, Harry launches his empty tea mug and it smashes against the wall.

"THAT IS ENOUGH!"  It is now me that shouts with rapid breaths and shaking lips.

Stunned at hearing my voice, Harry turns on his heels and immediately rushes to my side.  He attempts to put his arms around me but I push him away.

"This was no one's fault, it was a catalogue of errors that resulted in me falling."  I state in anger at his aggressive behaviour.  

"More like pushed.  People kicked you when you were down, on purpose.  These are supposed to be fans, why would they do that to the thing I love the most?"  He answers perturbed.   

"I did warn you Harry.  I did instruct you it was best if Tasha travelled separately."  Paul tentatively interjects. 

"Harry?"  I look at him and frown because this is news to me.

He glances over at Paul with disdain.   "I wanted you with me.  I made that clear to all involved and adjustments should have been made."  He tries to reason.  

"So you went against security advice?  They are the experts Harry.  From now on I will not travel to and from the venues with you, I will go separately."  I retort crossly. 

Harry raises his voice in annoyance.  "Like hell you will, after that farce tonight, no way.  I am even getting you an assigned security guard."

"No!  You know I will never agree to that, it is not how I want to live."  I fire back. 

"Oh, so you are suddenly an expert now.  This isn't everyday living Natasha, it's tour living."  His voice streams a hint of a patronizing tone. 

"Then tell me why you didn't take the tour expert security advice?"  I ask sarcastically.

"Because I know what is best as far as you are concerned, it is my job to protect you."  He answers arrogantly.      
In frustration, I deliver the hurtful words.  "You haven't though have you?  You let go of my hand.  All you are being is a dick Harry."

The four security guys look anywhere other than at Harry or me.  Paul's mouth is fixed in a hard line and his eyes are wide.  Harry stands with his hands on his hips simply staring at me with not an iota of emotion across his face.  Slowly, he turns his back on me to address the security team.

"Goodnight gentlemen, I shall leave you in the capable hands of my girlfriend to discuss her security requirements for the rest of her trip."

Then without any acknowledgement of me, he gently walks passed me into the bedroom but slams the door behind him, making everyone jump.  

I blow out a huge breath I didn't realise I was holding and rest my palm against my temple.  I need to wrap this up quickly.

"Paddy, I hold you in no way responsible for any of this at all."  I offer sincerely. 

"It's my job though Tasha and I let you down."  He replies resignedly. 

"No, no you didn't.  I'm fine, a little shaken up may be but fine."  I smile reassuringly at him. 

Then I turn to address Paul.  "I would like to travel separately from Harry from now on please but I do not require assigned security.  Perhaps I can travel with Lou?  I'll leave you to decide what is best, just let me know." 

Paul nods, "Of course Tasha.  I'll sort it out."

"Oh, and if possible please would you be able to find out the names of the five women who helped me tonight.  I would like to invite them to the hotel the day after tomorrow, if they are free, for lunch or tea to thank them personally for helping me."

Paul smiles at me and nods.  "Of course, and I am so sor-."  But I hold my hands up and don't allow him to get any further.

"Please, no apologies.  Now I am really tired, as I am sure you all are, and I need to go to bed."  The four men immediately get to their feet, bid me goodnight and leave the room.

I rest my hand on the bedroom doorknob and take in a deep breath before entering.  Harry is stood in the darkness by the balcony doors and looking over the night cityscape.  I lean back against the door and it clicks shut gently behind me.

"Harry, I am sorry.  I was frustrated because you were blaming security and it wasn't their fault."  I speak softly.

He keeps his back to me but I can see his reflection in the glass.  "I disagree but I will apologise to them for my outburst.  That part was unacceptable."

"Why do you disagree?  It was your, I mean our fault."  I correct myself but the words have already left my lips. 

Now he turns to look towards me.  "Oh, so it is my fault is it?  You clearly believe it is."  He spits out with venom. 

"You didn't heed their advice Harry or tell me so we could make the decision together so yes, it is partly your fault."  I am firm but calm. 

"It is my job to protect you from the crazy environment I live in.  Every decision I make is with you in mind."  He replies through gritted teeth.    

"I am not a china doll, I don't need protecting.  We've discussed this before."  I try to reason. 

"I know.  You are a strong woman and that is one of the reasons why I love you but that doesn't mean I don't want to protect you.  And yes, we have been through this before and if you remember I asked you to let me in. Ever since our first fairground date when I panicked you, it scared me shitless.  I never wanted to experience that again, EVER.  And tonight I did.  I don't know why certain things scare you and it worries me, frustrates and renders me so helpless.  I feel as though I am constantly fighting the unknown."  He is exasperated and pulls his bandana off his head and throws it on the bed.

"This is not the time, Harry."  I dismiss because I cannot have this conversation right now.

"Then tell me, when is going to be the time?"  He asks forcefully. 

"Soon, I hope." I reply but it sounds feebly weak. 

He throws his hands up in the air and slaps them down by his sides.  "Well, perhaps the sooner the better before it's too late.  Now, I am going to the gym."  He disappears into the bathroom and comes out in his running shorts and tee with trainers in his hand.  I am still blocking the door and he stands in front of me completely emotionless. 

"Do you mind?"  He indicates with a wave of his hand that he wants to go past. 

I pause for a split second to look at him with pleading eyes not to go.  I reach out to touch his arm but he pulls it sharply away.  I reluctantly stand aside and then he is gone. 

Our relationship is so strained that over the next couple days I start retreating.  I travel to the venue with Lou or Josh, Jon, Dan and Sandy.  The noise from the concerts becomes too much.  With the slightest bang or surprise making me nervous, I hang around the hotel room not venturing out far.  Harry keeps himself busy as the thick air between us fails to dispel.

I have difficulty sleeping and wake at night disorientated and sweating.  If I reach out for Harry, most of the time he is not there.  I am angry with myself that I cannot admit or control my feelings.  I played the incident down but in truth it scared me too.  The constant ache in my side and the bruise from the kick is now huge.  Even water spray from the shower hurts.

I feel lonely and I need to go home but I cannot be honest with him.; I don't want to let him down.  Then a saviour comes to my rescue.  One of the media law companies that I sent my CV to before I left for the States has emailed to say they would like me to come in for an interview in a few days time.  When Harry returns from the concert later that evening, I attempt to have a conversation with him.     

"I need to talk to you Harry."  I ask uncertain that he will even speak to me. 

He comes and perches on the side of the bed, one foot resting on the floor, the other tucked under him.  He faces me but there is no contact between us.

"What's up?"  He asks calmly.    

"I need to go home."  I blurt it out. 

His face drops and he frowns.  "Why?"

"I got an interview."  I am trying desperately to hold in my emotions but I don't sound convincing at all.

"But there's still a week of the tour to go?"  He states matter-of-factly. 

"I know that but it's for one of the media companies I really want to work for."

"Can't you tell them you are away and reschedule it for when you are back?"  He asks nonchalantly. 

I am in disbelief at what I am hearing.  "Harry, this company is exactly who I want to work for.  I am lucky to even get an interview with the qualifications and experience I have compared to others who probably have degrees.  I will not risk the opportunity by asking for an interview postponement."

"But the tour isn't finished yet."  He states again. 

"Oh, I am sorry, so if I decide to take you away in November will you say to your team, 'Oh I can't do any album promo because I'm going away with my girlfriend.'"

He mulls it over and his face says it all; he knows I am right but he doesn't say a word.   

"Harry, my foot is halfway through the door but I want to step in fully.  I need a job and this is exactly what I am looking for.  I am disappointed you cannot see that and support me."  I rise off the bed and walk towards the window putting my back to him.

He is immediately behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and resting his chin on my shoulder.  "I'm sorry Natasha, for everything.  Of course you must go, I'm being selfish but that's because I am going to miss you."

"Are you sure about that, it doesn't feel like it."  I rest my hands over his.

"Yes, of course I am!  Are you sure there isn't another reason you want to go home?"  He counters. 

"No, why do you think that? Are you saying you don't believe me about the interview?"  I question. 

"No, but you've been distant since the incident, I've been worried about you.  You don't seem to be sleeping and are on edge and you are... "  He stops his words in their tracks but has moved his hands to rest over mind and is skimming his thumbs over the top of my blouse at my wrists. 

"No everything is fine."  I pull away from him and head towards the bathroom."

"Clearly it is not."  He mutters under his breath.  "Talk to me, please, don't do that shutting me out thing."

"I'm not." I raise my voice to him. "You can talk."  I lean up against the bathroom sink. 

"What is that supposed to mean?"  He rests his head against the doorframe, crossing both his arms over his chest defensively. 

"You have hardly said a word to me in the past few days and, and-"

"What?"

"You haven't come near or touched me since the tour started."

He looks away, inspecting the floor tiles.  "Natasha, I am sorry. It's not that I don't want too, it's just that I can't, not right now."

"Why the hell not?"  I choke.  "It feels like I am suddenly not enough for you sexually and otherwise." 

He moves to stand in front of me and rests his hands on my hips.  His eyes are hooded with concern.  "You are more than enough.  We are amazing together in every way. When I perform though my mind and body reaches such an immense high that the adrenaline that kicks in remains for hours afterwards.  I know from experience that sex isn't the answer to bring me down.  That is why I prefer to go the gym and work it out my system." 

"I don't understand what you mean." 

He sighs.  "The thought of being with you worries me that I will be too rough with you."  He offers reluctantly.

I push him away from me until his back hits the bathroom wall then I grab the front of his shirt and pull myself onto him, forcing our lips together and thrusting my core into his.  He doesn't return my kisses and his hands remain firmly by his side. His eyes however are wide in shock.

I push away from him. "Don't treat me with kid gloves Harry, I am not some pathetic weak woman." 

"I never said you were.  It is just best this way."

"Best for who?  I sidle up to him again, my face inches from his. I glance from his eyes to his lips and back again waiting for an answer that isn't going to come.  "Do you feel it now, high I mean?"  I roll my hips against his hardness, rock solid through his jeans.  "I think you do.  I dare you to fuck me, go on, I want you to.  I want to feel your hands roughly on me as you pound me and empty inside me." I am physically shaking.

He closes his eyes. "Fuck no! Get away from me."  He pushes me away and walks out into the bedroom putting as much space between us as he can. 

I'm raging at him.  "Why not, tell me why not. I grab his arm and spin him round towards me." 

"Because of this."  He grabs my wrist exposing the skin under the long sleeved shirt I am wearing.  He winces when he sees the scratch marks red and sore.  "Do you think I haven't noticed you wake in the early hours?  That I cannot see the light under the door and hear the whirring of the bathroom fan?  Do you not think I hear your nightmares have returned along with your anxiety?  Do you not think I worry and feel helpless because I don't know why so I can't help you."  He doesn't push me away, he pulls me to him, his hands tangling into my hair as he pulls my lips onto his.  His kisses are sloppy through his breathlessness. 

He fumbles to get my buttons undone and I am scrabbling to pull his belt out the loops.  His needy hands are rampaging all over my body, his lips are hungry and his teeth graze my flesh as I push his jeans and boxers down. 

We stumble aimlessly towards the bed and fall down onto the covers.  Holding his body over mine, he pauses, his chest breathlessly heaving before he pushes inside me.  His eyes hold mine as his thrusts come in short sharp bursts.  The sweat is pouring off him, his whole body is tense, his muscles in his arms taut and his teeth gritted as he cries out. After a few sharp thrusts he comes quickly and his whole uncontrollably heaving body weight falls on top of me.

"Shit, shit, shit, I'm sorry."  He is crying and he goes to pull away but I stop him.

"Shhh, it's fine, Harry."  I reach for him and I kiss him gently and guide his hand between my legs but I don't release it.  I clasps my fingers round his as he brings me to my end, my mouth open against his cheek.  We lay wrapped around one another satisfied but spent.  All my anxiety has melted away and suddenly I feel freer.

The following day, with Harry's kisses still on my lips, I catch my flight back to London for my interview.  As the wheels tear down the runway and the swoop off the ground flutters inside me, I think about his honesty last night.

The unknown barrier was there again because I have not told him about my past.  I feel guilty about that.  This poor man, my man, walking on eggshells not being able to fully let himself go for fear of my unknown. 

I make the decision that when he returns to London after the tour I will tell him everything.  He is so strong for me, I owe him that much.  It is time.