(No Control | Holding Me Ransom - 76 - The Words You Whispered I Will Always Believe)

January 2016

I return to the main deck to find all hell breaking loose. Kendall is screaming down the phone to her boyfriend Jordan while Kris and Glenne attempt to calm her down, although Kris seems to be revelling in the drama while Glenne has her arm around Kendall's shoulders. Jeff and Irving are exchanging uncomfortable looks while Mum, Robin and Shelli Azoff sit close by offering sympathetic words and glances. Dinner that evening is strained with Kendall's mood at rock bottom, her dour silence punctuated only by declarations of her intentions to 'get the hell off this cursed yacht'. 

Jess calls me at midnight (her time) to wish me a happy new year, and while I enjoy my own celebrations here on the yacht, I'm ready for this holiday to be over so I can fall into her arms and she can tell me things are OK between us.

After much deliberation, and a lengthy conversation with Mum and Robin, I decide I would like to be Jeff's first client of Full Stop Management. Irving reassures us both that he will be on hand for advice and support, and congratulates us both on our new working relationship. I sign a pre-contractual agreement and Jeff assures me he will have the documents drawn up in the next week, now the holidays are over.

"You can come over to LA for my birthday and we can sign everything then," he says. "And have you decided what you're doing for your birthday yet?" 

Our birthdays are within two weeks of each other and in the past we've managed to enjoy some decent gatherings to celebrate. 

"Jess's birthday is first," I tell him. "So I'll be in London for that. But maybe she could come over to LA with me, seeing as she missed out on the New Year break? Celebrate with us both?"

"Cool," Jeff nods. "Just let me know your plans and we can work something out."

"Hadn't you better make sure Jess is available?" Mum suggests when I update her on everything. "The last thing you want is a repeat of the New Year fiasco."

"Good point," I agree. 

Rather than springing this on her over the phone I vow to bring it up with her as soon as I'm back. I don't know if she has made any plans for her own birthday yet, and I involuntarily grit my teeth at the thought of having to spend any time in the company of the wicked witch of the west, AKA Callie, who has taken it upon herself to send me another abusive text out of the blue (I mean, it had been while since she last stuck her oar in so I suppose I should have been expecting it):

If you think fucking your ex-girlfriend in front of a load of photographers is "not hurting Jess" then I might as well burn that bag of One Direction shite, you massive bell-end.

It takes every ounce of resolve I have not to rise to the bait. I leave my phone in my cabin for a couple of hours (while Kendall and Jordan have another row) and return to it only once I have calmed down and am capable of sending a polite and reasoned reply:

I'm sure Jess has explained what really happened. And I'm also certain it would upset her greatly if you burned all her One Direction things. Nothing I can say will make any difference if that is your intention. If you really want to destroy them, go ahead.

She replies within seconds. Don't you want them anymore?

I knew it. I knew all this was just about her making me suffer rather than protecting |Jess from me. You know I do, I type back. But I'm not playing this game any longer. Either you'll let me have them or you won't. I'm not interested in this back and forth, or in proving my intentions to you. Like I've already said, I'd like us to be civil around Jess for her sake. I don't want her to be caught in the middle. I'm sure our paths will cross fairly soon so until then take care. Harry.

Well at least I managed not to type my name twice in the same message this time. I note with interest that she reads the text immediately, but I never receive a reply.

Kendall decides on Saturday morning that she's had enough of the drama and bids us all a tearful farewell as she leaves the yacht. I give her a hug, tell her she can ring me anytime if she needs a friend, and that I'll see her in a couple of weeks for Jeff's birthday. 

I have another chat with Jeff, discussing possible film roles coming up in the next year and I make it clear that I want to stay close to home. I don't want to commit to a six month project filming in the US or anything like that. As much as I know I need to strike while the iron is hot in terms of my solo career away from One Direction, I also know that I need to make time for Jess and our relationship. I want to spend some quality time with her over the next few months, and not be pulled from pillar to post.

~~~~

We fly back into Manchester on Monday and I spend two days at Mum's where she does all my washing and ironing for me, makes me endless cups of tea and one of her roast dinners (on a Tuesday, because I'm her favourite son). I drive back to London on Wednesday morning, eager to see Jess when she finishes work at 5pm. I decide to cook her a special meal to celebrate us moving in together, to say sorry for putting her through all the stress of yachtgate and just because I want to make an effort for her.

I head out to the local shops to pick up some ingredients (after perusing a Jamie Oliver recipe book) and then spend the best part of two hours with a candle stuck in the top of an empty wine bottle, trying to get the wax to drip down the deck in that rustic way that looks so romantic in restaurants but is actually really difficult to reproduce.

By the time she is due to arrive I've changed into a nice shirt, opened a bottle of red wine to breathe and positioned the rustic wax candle-bottle on the table. I hear the front gates opening (I told her to use her new key fob) and watch as she pulls her new car into the driveway and onto the parking deck. I open the door to greet her and she grins, her eyes drawn to the wooden spoon in my hand.

"Kinky," she remarks. "Are you going to spank me?"

"Would you like me to?" I smirk. I'll give anything a try once.

I usher her into the warmth (it's fucking freezing out there) and she pauses in the hallway, shrugging her coat off and sniffing the air.

"What's for dinner?"

"Carrot and coriander soup to start," I answer, taking her coat and hanging it up, "and then lamb shank with roasted new potatoes, shallots, red cabbage and baby sweetcorn."

"Wow," she breathes. "What's all this in aid of?"

I take her in my arms and lean down to kiss her. Her lips are cold but her tongue is deliciously warm. "I've missed you like mad, put you through hell again, and I'm trying to remind you why you fell for me in the first place," I murmur.

"As if I could forget," she whispers.

Correct answer.

"Yeah, well, it doesn't do any harm to show you how much I appreciate you," I counter. We go through to kitchen and I pour her a glass of wine. She inspects the drippy candle bottle next to us, grinning.

"How long did it take you to make that?"

"Hours," I groan, and she chuckles. "Do you know how hard it is to make it look like it happened naturally?"

She says nothing but takes a sip of wine, her eyes dancing as she looks at me.

"See, this is what you could come home to every night, if you moved in," I gesture at the wine and the wax bottle.

"I already said yes," she reminds me with a grin.

I frown, as though I have just remembered this. "Oh yeah," I mutter, and the walk over to her, take the glass of wine out of her hand and blow the candle out, still frowning. 

"Hey!" she protests, and I give her a kiss and hand her back her wine.

I'm glad things seem normal between us - I was afraid it might be awkward after what happened - but I want to talk about it and clear the air properly.

"I really am sorry," I apologise, "for the whole Kendall fiasco."

"I know," she says seriously, meeting my gaze. "I'm sorry I doubted you. For what it's worth, I didn't really believe it. I knew something wasn't right. It was just hard to have faith when those pictures were so..." 

Convincing. Incriminating. Damning.

"I know," I agree. "I don't blame you for thinking the way you did. I should never have let myself get photographed like that. I spoke to Kendall about it and said we'd crossed a line and she agreed. I don't know if she's managed to sort things out with Jordan yet. He was so pissed off about it. They've only been together a short time."

She hesitates, picking at a mark on the worktop. "Do you understand why I was upset that you're so... familiar with her?" 

"Yeah, I do," I answer immediately, looking into her eyes. "If it were the other way round, I would hate it. I should have considered that sooner. Kendall and I have always been close, on and off, but that was before I had a serious girlfriend. It never really occurred to me that those boundaries should change, but I realise now that they must."

"I don't want to ruin your friendship with her," she says softly. "I hope you believe that. I've never been the type of girl who won't allow her boyfriend to have female friends. I'm not clingy or controlling. But I think there needs to be a line."

I've never met anyone less clingy or controlling as Jess.

"There does," I nod in agreement. "In the past, I wouldn't have thought twice about having a girl sit on my knee, cuddle me, lie on me." I reach across the breakfast bar and take her hands in mine. "I think you need to see the pictures my mum took while we were away, because I was very tactile with Kendall up until the point those pictures broke. I don't want you thinking that I was only like that with her when we were in private; I wasn't. I cuddled her in front of my mum, because I had nothing to hide. The relationship is platonic, and that's how we've always been."

She shakes her head firmly. "I don't need to see them. I believe you."

I smile at her; half gratefully, half sheepishly.

"I half expected you to ring my mum and ask her if there was anything going on between me and Kendall," I admit.

"But that would imply that I didn't trust your word," she frowns. "And I do. I don't need your mum to confirm what I already know. I know you love me. The last ten months have proved that. I may have had my doubts for a short while when I saw those pictures, but I also knew deep down there had to be an explanation for them. You'd given me keys to your house, asked me to move in with you and bought me a car. It wouldn't have made sense for you to be having an affair with one of your best friends, who has a famous boyfriend, right in front of the world. I know you better than that."

I know I say this all the time, but I honestly do not know what I've done to deserve this girl, and her trust.

"We've come a very long way since that night we first met," I remark. "Both as a couple, and individually."

"I'd like to think so," she smiles. "It took me a while to trust you, but once I did, and you had truly earnt it, I don't think rumours alone could shake it."

"And I will never be the one to break it," I assure her. "This whole serious-relationship thing... you're right, it is new to me. I'm not using that as an excuse," I add quickly, "but I want you to know I don't take us lightly."

"I don't think that," she replies.

"Good," I nod in satisfaction. "Because there will always be rumours and stories about me, until we're publicly an item. And even afterwards, I'm sure there will be gossip and lies, spread by people with small minds and cruel intentions."

She stares out of the window for a moment, apparently lost in thought. "Sometimes I wish we could just start all over again," she muses, almost to herself, "knowing what we know now, and take things right back to the beginning."

I think back to the night we met at that random house party of Grimmy's mate (I must text Grimmy, it feels like forever since we last caught up). I can picture the exact layout of the lounge and kitchen in my head. I remember the first time I laid eyes on Jess, and the subsequent few minutes that followed that involved her crashing into me and tipping her drink all down my chest. I remember chatting with her on the small sofa, away from everyone, I remember our first kiss in the kitchen after I'd been wondering why she kept blowing hot and cold with me. It feels like a lifetime ago, but also like only yesterday. It would be kind of cool to go back to that house and see where it all began. An idea quickly forms in my head, wrapping itself around Jess's One Direction memorabilia. 

"Back to the start?" I clarify. "Is that really what you want?"

If I can pull this off, I will be the most epic boyfriend ever.

"I don't know," she says, searching my face as though she can tell I have something up my sleeve. "Sometimes I think it would be good to start all over again, without all the shit we've dealt with. Just wipe the slate clean, so to speak."

I nod. "Understood."

"Understood? What do you mean?"

Oh just watch this space. This is going to be stellar.

"I mean, I hear you," I grin. "I will make this right, I promise you."

"Harry -"

"Don't ask questions," I silence her. "Just have faith that I will give you what you want. Always."

"OK," she says slowly as I tend to the soup, turning the gas off and grabbing two bowls out of the cupboard.

"Are you staying over tonight?" I ask, inclining my head towards the dining room as I ladle the soup into the bowls and pour a swirl of cream into each. 

"Well, I brought my stuff this time, in case you offered," she answers as she slides off the stool at the breakfast bar and walks through to take a seat at the dining table.

"Wow," I mutter under my breath, just loud enough for her to head, as I sprinkle the coriander garnish. "Presumptuous."

"Don't piss me off, Harry," I hear her warn, and I cackle delightedly and follow her through with the soup.

We're quiet for a minute as I pour myself a glass of wine and we begin to eat.

"Did you really make this?" she asks, a note of incredulity in her voice. "It's absolutely delicious."

"I did. Well - it's a Jamie Oliver recipe," I explain, "but I followed it to the letter."

"You can definitely make this again."

Yessss. Ten boyfriend points to me. We're quiet pretty much all the way through the soup; I think we're both starving - I know I am. 

Now that we've talked through the New Year fiasco I don't feel as nervous about bringing up the subject of her moving in.

"So I was wondering," I begin, as she sets her spoon down in her empty bowl with a satisfied sigh, "if maybe you wanted to talk logistics, about you moving in and then maybe us going public...?"

"OK," she says, a little uncertainly.

"Do you have any concerns?" I ask.

"Well, yes, of course," she answers. "But I also have some conditions."

Of course she does. She's going to have some ridiculous idea about paying half of everything, I'm sure of it. 

"I thought you would," I remark with a grin. "Should I serve the main course while you organise your notes? I don't want it to burn."

Her eyebrows knit together in outrage at my cheek.

"If you're not taking this seriously, Styles," she begins.

"Of course I am, you beautiful, intelligent, fiery girl," I chuckle, standing up to take the dishes through to the kitchen. "I just love winding you up."

She says nothing  but watches me through exaggeratedly narrowed eyes as I return to the kitchen to dish up the lamb.

As I carry the plates through to the dining room her suspicious look is replaced with one of surprise.

"This looks absolutely amazing!"

I bloody hope it tastes amazing, the amount of time I spent on it this afternoon. I grin in pride and gesture to her plate. "Well, come on. Tuck in. You can reel off your terms in between bites."

She doesn't rise to my bait, and I watch as she takes a delicate bite of the lamb, closing her eyes in anticipation as she lifts her fork to her mouth.

"See?" I grin. "You do close your eyes when something delicious is coming. You did it just then."

"Stop picking up on my quirks," she berates me, before setting her knife and fork down again. I can tell she's preparing her presentation. "So," she begins.

"I'm listening." And trying not to smirk at how well I know her.

"We need to talk money. I want to pay my way."

"I knew you'd say that," I sigh.

"Of course. I'm not sponging off you. We split everything down the middle. I mean, I don't know how that will work with your mortgage, if you even have one..."

"It's not that simple though," I explain, without trying to be patronising. "The bills here will be a lot higher than what you're used to, because the house is bigger than your flat. Even halved, they'll be several times higher."

"Well, I was thinking of renting my flat out, to generate extra income."

"Even so, you need to cover your own mortgage payments on your flat," I point out. "Jess, I asked you to move in because I want you here with me all the time. Not because I want a flatmate to share the bills. I know you want to pay your way, and if it's possible I love you even more for offering. But I don't need help towards the living costs of this place. I'd rather you save your money, and put it aside for when you want to start up your own business. You told me once that that's what you wanted to do. This is your chance to think about making that happen."

"But this isn't fair," she sighs. "I'm not moving in here with you and being your kept woman. That goes against all my morals."

"OK," I nod. I knew she would be stubborn about this so I have been doing some thinking of my own. "Then I have another suggestion. I pay off the remainder of the mortgage on this place before you move in."

Her eyes widen. "Can you do that?"

"I can move some investments around," I shrug. "I'm also looking at buying a new house in LA, so I can use the sale of my current LA house to pay this one off outright. It's swings and roundabouts, really. The only downside to that is that you would have to wait a few months for it all to be finalised. And I really really want you to move in sooner."

"How soon?" she asks.

"Like, today?" I suggest. "If you would take my word that I would pay off the house, and I agree to split most of the bills in half with you, then I don't see why we can't get the ball rolling as soon as possible."

"Most of the bills?" Trust her to pick up on that.

"Jess, the insurance on this place is astronomical," I explain. "My recording equipment in the studio alone is worth tens of thousands. You're not contributing half towards that. I'll agree to utilities, such as gas, electricity, water and food. But that's it. I don't want anything else. And I'm not budging on this one."

She sighs, but I can tell she's going to agree. She must know it would be unfair to allow her to pay for anything more than half of what she would use. I love her for not wanting to take advantage of me, but I also need to make sure I don't take advantage of her either.

"Fine." She holds her hand out across the table and looks at me expectantly.

"Are you making me shake on it?" I chuckle.

"Yes," she says seriously, and I grab her hand in mine and shake it firmly.

"So, does this mean you'll move in today?" I ask.

"Aren't you going back to LA at the end of the month for Jeff's birthday?"

"Come with me?"

She pulls an apologetic face. "I'm not sure I'll be able to get the time off work." 

"Well, why don't you start moving your stuff gradually? You can move in officially when I'm back."

"When are you back?" she asks, and I feel a stab of guilt.

"Just after my birthday," I mutter.

"Oh you're spending your birthday in LA?" Her disappointment is evident.

"Yeah, Mum and Robin have already arranged to come with me. I just assumed you would be able to come too. Sorry."

Mum told me I should have asked her. I wish I hadn't waited now.

"I'll put a request in for the holiday," she offers.

"So... what about your birthday? Yours is before mine."

"Will you be here, or in LA?" she asks casually. I'm tempted to wind her up but decide against it.

"Here. I don't fly out until the twentieth. I was thinking I could take you out for dinner? Maybe we could invite your parents and my parents... isn't it about time they met?"

"I suppose it is," she beams.

"Well Mum and Robin are coming down to London the day before we fly to LA," I ponder. "Why don't we all go out for dinner? Ask a couple of your friends, I'll see if Grimmy and James are free too, and we'll make an evening of it."

"That sounds perfect," she smiles happily, and I clink my glass against hers. "It's a date."

---***---

Happy new year! I intended to post this chapter on Christmas Eve, but here we are over a week later.... sigh. And also, my entire household has tested positive for Covid so we're now in isolation for a week or more. Luckily I'm double jabbed and boosted so for me it's like a mild cold so far. I'm just thankful we've all managed to avoid it until now. 

Anyway, I'll be continuing to edit the other written chapters and will post them as soon as they're ready. It feels weird to think I'm writing about something that happened 6 years ago pretty much to the day! Please feel free to leave a vote or a comment, or both :) xx