Show Me Where it Hurts

“Okay pumpkin?” I said, looking over at Ivy, who was now patiently seated in front of me in business class on our flight back to London. She had finally calmed down from her tantrum back at the airport and now she had tired herself out, sipping on her beaker full of juice with hooded eyes. She nodded solemnly at me and brought the complimentary British Airways blanket over her dark blonde hair.

She wasn’t the only one who hated leaving Harry. I hated leaving him for so many reasons that it was all boiling over and turning me into an anxious mess. I hated that he would be out of my sight and that I wouldn’t really know what he was doing seeing as the time difference was so long and it was so hard to keep in contact with him. I hated leaving him because things had gotten so good, and I hated the thought of sleeping unprotected in a big empty bed.

Noah had also had his fair share of crying over the eleven hours we had been up in the air. I mentally thanked God that Harry had stayed through two pregnancies and not left me alone a single mother. Two children under the age of five who were love-spoilt were quite the difficult job.

As I waited for the last hour of the flight to end, I just sat back and thought of going back to London, the house would have that empty hollow smell that only reminded me of coming back from tours with Ivy when she was only a couple of years old. It seemed to take ages to get the house feeling lived in again.

Landing and operating the airport was an even more difficult task. I had a carry on bag, Noah, and Ivy to handle, with our cases being pulled to the car by random security men. I was exhausted emotionally and physically, but then again, Harry had always said I was a terrible traveller.

Ivy was grumpy and tired. She climbed out of her seatbelt and onto my lap and begged for me to let her sit there. I sighed and wrapped my own seatbelt around both of us, knowing that she’d only erupt again if I shouted at her. I didn’t blame her, poor angel. I looked down at her soft tan skin and observed dark circles under her eyes and her hair was knotted and dull. She snuggled into me, her arms wrapped around my middle, and fell asleep.

I made a mental note to check my phone when I arrived back at the house in Holmes Chapel. It was almost eleven at night and with Ivy in my lap I could hardly muster the energy to look around for it and call Harry.

“It’s Mill Lane, isn’t it?” The driver said, his northern accent waking me from the hazy sleep I had fallen into with a jolt. I almost mistook it for Harry’s voice.
“Yeah, it’s just at the end. It’s the last house.” I said, picturing the warmth and cosiness of the house Harry had practically remodelled himself. I could almost feel the Egyptian cotton bedsheets on my shaven legs, a cup of tea in one hand before I went to sleep.

Just as the driver had turned onto our long, pitch black, country lane, Noah became unsettled and Ivy started to stir. Just in time, I thought.

“Sorry Love, do you know these guys?”

I looked up through the partition groggily and out through the windscreen of the car. My heart stopped beating as I saw the familiar flashes of cameras and about five paparazzi starting to move up to the car as it slowed. They kept their distance, seeing as they were on private property, but my heart broke that they had found our hideaway. I had no time to realise that it was absolutely impossible for them to guess I wasn’t going back to London, but Cheshire instead.

“No. Paps.” Was all I could manage. “It’s fine. Just drive up to the path and I can take it from there.”
“I’ll grab your bags, love.” He said, and he exited the car in a swift movement.
“Why are daddy’s friends here?” Ivy said, rubbing her eyes.
“I have no idea, pumpkin. I can’t pick you up though, I have to carry your brother. So I need you to hold my hand and try and hide your face, okay?” I looked down at her, and my heart tore at the upset expression on her face. I hated that I had to tell her to practically hide behind me from these strange men. I hated that they could even get photographs of her anyway. This was hers and Noah’s getaway from it all just as much as mine and Harry’s and they really had no business being here.
“I don’t like it.” She said, a deep sigh coming after, as she leaned over into Noah’s car seat and held his hand in hers, trying her best to stifle his low cries. I kissed her hair and ran my hand over it.
“Neither do I, Ive. Neither do I."

The driver we had had was so lovely, taking everything to our door and waiting as I brought everything inside. I tipped him just because, even though I’m sure he made more than enough money.

“Fucking assholes.” I whispered, under my breath, towards the direction of the door. I wondered how long they’d stay there for. I hoped they knew that Harry wouldn’t be coming here and would leave soon.

“Okay, you two.” I sang, unclipping a very tired, very smelly, very hungry Noah from his car seat and guiding Ivy with a soft hand on the back of her head over to the stairs. “Bedtime for you guys."

It took me around half an hour to get them both down and make my way down to the kitchen to flick on the kettle. Although my body was shattered and exhausted, my body clock was wide awake. Knowing it would be another few hours before I could drift off, I took my tea and lit a fire and sat in front of the television, more just for company than anything.

I realised with panic that I hadn’t gotten in contact with Harry and he’d probably be worrying. I sighed and pulled myself off of the sofa, to my handbag in the hall. My iPhone was full of texts, calls, WhatsApps. I bit my lip with guilt and swiped Harry’s number straight away. He answered on the second ring.

“I’ve been trying to get hold of you! Why haven’t you called? I tracked your flight, I know you landed two hours ago!” His voice was the fastest I had ever heard it but still little more than a normal speaking voice.
“I’m sorry, I know. The ride over here was a nightmare, the kids are exhausted and grouchy and then when we pulled up, there were paps outside. Then I had to put-“
“Have you not checked any of the messages I sent you?” He interrupted and I paused reluctantly.
“No?"

There was a moments silence before he spoke again.

“Annie, I don’t know how to tell you this, I know how much you loved feeling like you were helping people..” He made a sound like he was blowing his hair away from his face, thinking about how to word his execution. “But that Dot, whatever the fuck her name is. She was a journalist."

I was too exhausted for this. More bad news. I plopped down onto the sofa and took a deep breath.

“What?”
“Yeah, she’s a journalist for the Daily Mail. You were on the flight when the story broke. She’s titled it as an exclusive on what happened, and she also said that you were going back to Holmes Chapel, which is probably why the paparazzi are there.” He didn’t sound sympathetic, and I could bet that his first words when he found this out where I told her so.
“Oh, no.” I whined, bringing my hand over my eyes. “What is wrong with people? I did that- I told her personal things, really personal things, how I felt, how we all felt-“
“I know, Annie, I’ve read it.” He sighed. “You didn’t really seem to paint me in the best light. Something like unsupportive, spiteful, uninterested.”
“Those words never passed my lips!” I reminded myself not to raise my voice too much. “Come on, this is a seedy Daily Mail article we’re talking about.”
“Yeah, I know, whatever about that, anyway.” He let out a breath. “Are the babies okay?”
“Grumpy, but fine.” I tried to push the weight in my stomach. I was so hurt and upset that someone would abuse my trust like that, but the voice inside said to me, Annie, you really should have wised up to people doing that to you by now.
“Alright, Bug. Well, I know it’s late there, so I’ll say goodnight to you. Call me in the morning. I think Mum’s about tomorrow, she’s gonna call and see if you want to meet up.”
“I love you.. I really miss you.” I said, the thought of his voice leaving me for another twelve hours making me want to cry.
“I really miss you too, Bug, and I’ll be home in two days, so just keep your chin up. I’m sorry I didn’t warn you more about that old bitch.” I knew he was referring to Dot.
“It’s my fault.” I sighed.
“It’s not, babe, you’re just too bloody nice to people.” He sighed. “Anyway, don’t let it get you down. Get a good rest, alright? I left some t-shirts there when I was back in April, so get into one of those and pretend I’m there with you.”

I smiled happily, the thought making me warm inside.

“Love love love love you.” I said, my voice croaking from lack of sleep.
“And I love you, love.” He said, and I could hear the smile in his voice. “Night night.”
“Night bug.” I said, and let the phone slip down to the chair.

I knew I wouldn’t sleep for even longer now, the knowledge that Dot had fucked me over making me want to scream and cry. It was an even worse idea to read her article.

“... sad, lonely, and afraid, Annie won’t be returning to the Styles’ London residence for some time, as she takes the break to recover with the couples children, Ivy, 4 and Noah, just shy of seven months.

Friends of the couple are concerned, and claim that the strain of having two children at such a young age has put a massive hole in their relationship. As well as the recent sex tape in which Annie was abused, which has been awful on husband, Harry.

“He can barely stand to be in the same room as her or the children because all he see’s is the rape.” The source continued. “Annie feels let down by his unsupportive nature, and has questioned his spiteful actions."

These spiteful actions include spending extra time in Los Angeles, while Annie returns back to his native Cheshire, to spend time in their home around the Holmes Chapel area.

“He’s hurting,” another source said. “I wouldn’t put it past him to meet up with some people from his past and try and forget it all... "

Those were actually the nicest things she had said about me. She had torn me apart, my ability as a mother, even poking that I was attention seeking by “trying to flaunt my ordeal to any charity that would listen."

Well, I just felt shit after that. So I switched on and tried to tune out to any random T.V show I could find. Around half an hour in, I froze when I heard footsteps behind me. My heart gave out momentarily until I heard the voice speak.

“Mummy? I can’t sleep.” Ivy. I let out a sigh of relief and looked over at her. The image of her in One Direction pyjamas just made me smile. They were the only ones she had stored here, and since I couldn’t be bothered to ruffle through the three suitcases to get to her stuff, they made do. Ivy insisted on sleeping in them whenever she could, and Harry just found it more than hilarious and pushed the idea just to wind me up every now and again.
“Come here, little one.” I sighed, wiping my teary eyes and pulling her onto the sofa beside me. Her skin was so soft and her scent so sweet and flowery.
“I miss daddy.” She played with the H initial necklace on my chest for a while, but never dozed off to sleep. She eventually reached for my iPhone and held it up expectantly. “Pictures of daddy?” She thrust it into my hands and I chuckled, brushing my fingers through her hair as she scrolled through the Stylestagram page, her personal favourite.

“Don’t double tap!” I laughed, and she did too.
“But I like it!” She held out her hands with mini-attitude, and I let it go immediately, way too affected by her charm, just like her bloody fathers.

Notes

Well Dot is a bitch! Do you think she had a further role? Do you think Annie’s safe in HC? What do you think about everything in general?!

there is nothing better than reading lovely long detailed comments and getting really involved in the characters, so I would love for you guys to surprise me with some ;)!

x