(No Control | Holding Me Ransom - 55 - Lost In The Dark Of The Night)

I'm looking forward to the bonfire and fireworks display, if only so I can have a few hours out in public, disguised in the dark with my friends and Jess. We head down there around six o'clock with the view to getting a burger or hotdog or something while we're there, and manage to park fairly close to the main entrance. It isn't too busy - it never is early on - but there is no sign of any of my friends yet. I pull my hat down low so it covers even my eyebrows and turn the collar of my coat up to try and be as discreet as possible, and we complete a full lap of the ground before coming to the conclusion that no one I know is here yet.

"Shall we go on some rides?" Jess suggests, and I feel that lurking sense of dread at the thought of being thrown around in a metal car until I want to vomit. She looks so eager and excited though that I can't say no and she literally jumps up and down in excitement before grabbing my hand and leading me over to the nearest one. I am propelled into the nearest empty car (that just happens to be pink and glittery) and the metal safety bar is clamped into place across our knees.

We are directly beneath a fluorescent floodlight, and instinctively I tuck my neck further into the collar of my coat which also serves to keep my chin warm from the chill wind.

"Are you cold?" Jess murmurs beside me. "Or worried about being recognised?"

"Both," I answer, in a low voice. "Not that I'm bothered what people say about us. I just don't want the attention, that's all."

We don't have to wait around long before the ride starts to move, and within twenty seconds I am being flung around from side to side to the soundtrack of Set You Free by N-Trance, crushing Jess's body in the process; I shout an apology over the noise but if she hears me she just laughs. After a minute or so I can feel my stomach churning from the motion and I'm relieved when the ride comes to a stop not long after and I can climb out of the car and duck into the shadows again.

"What next?" Jess asks, her cheeks pink from the cold air and a cloud of steam rising from her mouth as she speaks. "Do you want some food or something?"

Food is not a good idea right now.

"Er, yeah, maybe in a bit," I answer. "Are you hungry?"

"I can wait until you're ready. Shall we go on the ghost train or something?"

Fantastic idea! I'd rather be scared than sick.

"Yeah, the ghost train sounds good," I affirm, and I take her hand as she leads me across the grass.

"I really like this," she whispers, giving my hand a gentle squeeze, and a secret smile over her shoulder.

I know exactly what she means - we're able to hold hands in public without having to worry about paps, or fans, or being seen. It's so dark that I can blend into the night unseen, and hold her hand like any normal boyfriend would.

"Me too," I whisper back through the collar of my coat, and she beams.

My phone pings with a text as we approach the ghost train and I manoeuvre it out of my pocket to read the message from Karen.

Are these the pictures you were telling me about from yesterday at the petrol station? They're all over Twitter this evening.

She has attached a couple of pictures of me in my sheepskin coat making my way back to my car, and I start to smile as I read the caption: 'Harry at a petrol station in North London tonight 7th Nov 15.'

I show Jess, but she frowns at me in confusion.

"I don't get it?" 

"It's been shared and dated today, as if I'm in London now," I smile. "Whoever took the picture didn't release it until today so everyone thinks I'm still at my house, instead of up here at my mum's."

A triumphant smile breaks on her face and she stands on her tiptoes to kiss me, clearly as happy about this as I am.

"I suppose the paps have their uses, every now and again," I acknowledge. "That will cast further doubt over the story of us at the service station too."

"I feel almost sorry for those fans," she ponders, which is not what I was expecting her to say. "They're probably being abused right now. No one will believe them."

It is strange hearing her thoughts in this way, as up until now it wouldn't even have entered my head to wonder about the fans who tweeted about us at Corley Services. Being with Jess definitely adds another dimension to my perspective. It's like having insider information.

"Rollerghoster," Jess chuckles, interrupting my thoughts as we walk up the metal steps and wait for a free car to arrive. "That's funny."

I shove my phone away. "Roller what?" 

"Rollerghoster,"  she repeats, climbing into the car as it moves slowly along the clicking track. "It's a play on words. Ghost train and rollercoaster."

I fold my legs awkwardly into the cramped space as what she has just said registers. 

Rollercoaster? Rollercoaster??

Before I can protest, or climb out of the car to safety, it jerks us forward and whisks us round a corner and into darkness, luminous skeletons hanging above us and a maniacal laugh echoing all around. Creepy stuff I can handle... rollercoasters not so much.

We turn another corner and a vampire rises suddenly out of a wooden coffin, fangs dripping with fake blood and a cloak rippling in the wind behind him. I smile in spite of myself. "It's actually quite good isn't it?"

"I love stuff like this," Jess says in my ear over the ominous church organ now playing. "Anything creepy gets my vote."

I open my mouth to answer but the car falls away beneath us, plunging us a couple of metres into blackness and I let out the smallest scream before managing to stop it, and allow myself a necessary "fuck" instead.

"Language," Jess teases from beside me, and I force a laugh. Seriously, who the fuck makes a rollercoaster in pitch blackness? What sick, sadistic bastard thinks that rollercoasters aren't terrifying enough with their twists and turns, and decides that it would be even more fun when you can't see a centimetre in front of your face?

We zoom left and right, a dim light showing us some creepy looking tombstones surrounded by what is supposed to be a low mist, followed by a plastic looking zombie climbing jerkily out of a freshly dug grave, before banging noisily through some doors and out into the light again where a couple of people are waiting in line for their turn.

My legs feel a little unsteady as we clatter down the metal steps and back onto the grass again, and I take a couple of discreet deep breaths while Jess is looking all around us, presumably for the next round of torture.

"Look, the Waltzers are there!" she exclaims happily, pointing with her finger. My heart sinks to my shoes as I follow her gaze and watch the wretched carriages spinning round and round on their hilly little track while a Nightcrawlers track booms out of the speakers.

"Umm..," I flounder, not wanting to admit I'm a massive scaredy cat, or ruin her fun. "Won't the fireworks be starting soon?"

"I didn't think they started until eight?" she replies, looking at her watch. "We've got plenty of time to do the rides and then have something to eat before they begin. And no one will see us on there, it goes too fast."

Yes, yes it does. It goes way too fucking fast. 

"Great," I beam as she drags me over to the entrance to the Waltzers just as it is slowing down. There is clearly no getting out of this. Once everyone has left the ride I allow her to pick a carriage, and take my place next to her while a lad a couple of years younger than us locks the safety bar across our laps.

"We can get some food after this if you want?" she suggests, adjusting her legs next to me and brushing her hair out of her face. 

Oh God, what if I throw up all over her? What if I'm sick and it splashes all over the other carriages?

"Mmm hmm," I nod absently, looking around to see how far apart they are, and where I would be best aiming if I do need to vomit.

"Are you OK?" she asks, concerned. "What's up?"

"Nothing!" I lie. "Just checking we're still anonymous. So far so good." 

As our carriage revolves slowly on its spot while other riders climb into their own cars, she leans forward, pulls my jacket collar down with one hand and presses her lips softly onto mine, taking me by surprise and completely quelling my nausea.

I can't help smiling at her in utter delight. "What was that for?" 

"Because I couldn't resist," she answers matter-of-factly. "Because you're gorgeous. Because I can."

I can't stop smiling - not that I want to stop - and I'm still grinning when the music suddenly cranks up several decibels and the track beneath us begins to move, causing our car to start to spin. I find the whole experience a little less scary if I just stare at Jess, watching her sing along to Rhythm Is A Dancer and clearly having the time of her life, and despite the sickening motion of the ride I find myself enjoying it a little too, until the motion sickness really starts to kick in and I have to fixate hard on her face and try to ignore the blurred surroundings as they fly by.

I grit my teeth as discreetly as I can and take another deep breath, determined not to puke. The ride seems to go on forever, but finally, finally, it begins to slow and I know it's nearly over.

I stagger off, just behind her as she mutters something to me about the Night Changes video and Liam being sick in his date's hat. The mention of vomit sends a surge of nausea to the pit of my stomach and I have no choice but to step into the shadows and bend over, my hands on my knees, to take some more deep breaths.

"What do you fancy to eat?" Jess is asking, as my stomach churns further at the thought of food. "There's a burger van over there, or what looks like some sort of hog roast over by the hook-a-duck."

I daren't speak. Luckily I don't need to. She looks round for me, and is immediately at my side.

"Harry? What's wrong? Oh God - are you OK?"

I mumble that I'm fine, but I'm clearly not fooling her.

"You don't look fine," she says softly, her hand gently rubbing my back, and I let out a deep breath and straighten up just as I hear my friend Jonny shout my name. I look up and catch his eye; he's with a group of my old schoolfriends and they're jogging towards us, grinning knowingly.

"Hi," I wave, my voice weak and pathetic, which makes them fall about laughing.

"Uh oh, Harry's been on the rides!" They guffaw and high five each other.

Jess turns to me with a look of dawning comprehension. "Harry... Does your loathing of fast rollercoasters extend to all fairground rides?"

I nod, which makes my friends laugh harder and Jess look positively distraught.

"Why didn't you say something?! I never would have suggested going on them if I'd known that!"

"You were having such a good time, I didn't want to ruin your fun," I admit, and she sighs softly and my mates start to jeer.

"He's whipped, the loser!"

"Take your hat off, H! Show us the massive thumb print on your head!"

"Never thought I'd see the day!"

I roll my eyes goodnaturedly, knowing full well I can't deny being wrapped around Jess's little finger, and give Jess a reassuring smile. "I'm OK. I just need to keep on level ground for a bit."

She slips her arms around my waist and looks up at me reproachfully. "You should have told me. I don't want you to feel ill because of me. We needn't have gone on the rides."

"It was worth it to see you enjoying yourself," I admit, softly. "You really are cute when you're having fun."

She stands on her tiptoes and kisses me, and for the second time tonight the touch of her lips instantly makes me feel better. I'm not sure how she does it, but I do know I never want it to stop. 

"What would make you feel better?" she's asking. "Do you need to eat something?"

I decide not to admit in front of my friends that her kiss has all but cured me, and instead nod in answer to her suggestion so we all head off in the direction of the food stalls, the lads jostling and jeering, taking the piss out of each other and generally making me feel sixteen again, as though the last few years have never happened.

I make sure Jess is involved in the group banter, and explain a couple of in-jokes to her. I let them share a couple of stories about me from my schooldays which delight her, and then after we've eaten our hog roasts by the the bonfire we wander back through the now busy crowds to the games stalls.

I know it's cheesy but I really want to win a stuffed toy or something for Jess. They're only cheap and tacky, but I want something to remind us both of this one night we had where we could pretend to be a normal couple, and I can be the boyfriend she deserves instead of one who has to hide her away. I edge cautiously towards a basketball shot, eyeing up the hoops and the prizes, before casting a hopeful glance in Jess's direction.

"Are you having a go, mate?" 

The stallholder makes me jump, and I hurriedly pull a fiver out of my pocket and he passes me three large basketballs that look like there's no way they will fit through the hoops in a million years.

"How's your aim?" Jess asks, her eyes twinkling as she watches me.

"Not bad." I try and sound casual, but deep down I'd love nothing more than to sink this shot first time, like something out of the movies. "I guess we'll find out."

Of course, I'm anything but smooth, so all three shots miss spectacularly and I'm left with a slightly bruised ego and five pounds lighter than I was two minutes ago.

"Never mind," she says placatingly as she slips her arm though mine.

"I wanted to win you a cuddly toy," I huff, and she lets out a shy, "Awww," which makes me feel stupidly shy too.

I glance at the next stall - the ball toss - and feel a wave of determination.

"Let me have a go on this one."

It's just a pyramid of cans and a few wooden balls, how hard can it be?

"Knock them all off the shelf to win," calls the stallholder, so I hand over my money and take the wooden balls.

"You don't have to win me anything," Jess says beside me.

"Yeah I do," I mutter - it's become a private battle with myself now. I throw one of the balls up in the air a couple of times to get a feel for its weight. Please, please let me nail this in one, and win not only a cheap cuddly toy but major boyfriend points.

I lean back as though I'm pitching a rounders ball and hurl it in the direction of the tins on the shelf. I completely take out the top two rows, leaving only three in a line on the bottom row, and feeling bolstered I take aim and fling the second ball at the remaining cans. Two go flying, the final one falls over but remains on the shelf. No pressure.

I daren't look at Jess's face.

With a silent prayer I hurl the final ball with all my might, and the little silver can clatters onto the floor. 

YES! I just levelled up, big time.

"Pick your prize." The stallholder clearly isn't impressed and I try to contain my triumph as Jess murmurs in my ear, "Pleased with yourself?"

I shrug nonchalantly. "No biggie."

Ha. Who am I kidding?

I choose a large grey cuddly dog with floppy ears and soulful eyes, and as soon as I take it the fabric squishes beneath my fingers.

"Mmm, squidgy," I remark, and immediately pass it to Jess, who laughs delightedly and takes it from me.

"Do you feel better for that?" she teases as we wander off again, the dog clutched firmly in her arms.

"Yes," I nod, with no pretence anymore. "Knocking stuff down is way more macho than basketball." The grins indulgently, and then leans a little closer to me.

"Thanks," she smiles, and clings onto my arm as we walk along, passing more food and drinks stalls and various other fairground games.

"It's OK. I just thought maybe it might be something squidgy for you to cuddle, y'know, when I'm away, 'n stuff..."

Immediately her eyes light up. "Did you just admit that you have a squidgy bum?"

"No," I reply firmly. "I did no such thing."

"Um, I think you'll find you did," she argues, looking positively delighted by this and eben more amused when I frown at her. "Harry - having a squidgy bum is nothing to be embarrassed about. Just embrace it. Be proud of who you are."

I make a grab for her around her waist and she squeals in protest, laughing as I lock my arms and refuse to let her go as I murmur in her ear, "I do not have a squidgy bum."

She is quiet for a moment, undoubtedly beaten, before she murmurs back cheekily, "But you really do though."

Without warning I hoist her onto my shoulder in a fireman's lift, ignoring her squeals of protest and her small fists beating my back through my thick jacket as I carry her across the grass towards the field where the fireworks will be let off, eventually setting her down, both of us out of breath and giddy.

"I'm not afraid to do that again if you misbehave." I point my finger at her warningly and she leans forwards and bites the end gently; I snatch it away in surprise as she laughs in delight again. "You are really asking for it!"

"Yeah yeah, if you say so," she grins cockily, just as an announcement from a loudspeaker informs us that the fireworks are about to start.

"Where did your friends go?" she asks, as she realises they're not with us and haven't been for quite some time.

"I think they were discreetly giving us some 'us' time," I smile, and she rests her head on my chest as I slip my arms around her, enjoying the feel of her in my arms and wishing we could be like this every day, as anonymous as the rest of the people in this crowd who never have to worry who might be watching.

I wouldn't swap my life, my career, my achievements for the world. But sometimes it's just refreshing to be able to mix the present with the past and enjoy being just Harry, instead of Harry Styles from One Direction, with the most beautiful girl in the world at my side.

---***---

It's day 8 of NaNoWriMo! I've fallen behind my target by about 2000 words, which is annoying but retrievable. We're back in a national lockdown but this weekend has seemed impossibly busy, even though I've barely left the house except for a half hour run this morning. 

I have to say Congratulations to my friends and readers in the US on your presidential election result. Regardless of which president you may or may not have voted for, I wish you all health, happiness and acceptance and I hope Biden does a good job for every single American citizen. Sending my love to you from across the pond xxx