A Match

Thirty Five

We both drove back to my house the next day. Harry had cleverly bought a big fluffy blanket that just lived in his car now, so I fell asleep snuggled under that, a great alternative to whinging about my Braxtan Hicks and demanding toilet breaks every two seconds.

We'd left early, so it was barely lunchtime by the time Harry parked outside my house.

"Hello?!" I called out as I opened the front door, dragging my small suitcase behind me. My Mum appeared at the top of the stairs, and grinned at me.

"Hey chick!" She said, jogging over to me and wrapping me up in a hug. I squeezed her back, and then stepped aside so she could hug Harry, going into the kitchen to get food.

Harry and I ate lunch together in the kitchen, chatting quietly about going shopping next weekend to get all the necessary furniture for the baby to go in my room.

"Taasieee." I turned around at the sound of Daisy's voice.

"Ayyy, Daisy my girl!!" Harry cheered. She giggled and ran over to him, jumping onto his lap. I rolled my eyes fondly.

"I missed you last week, where were you?!" He said, tickling my sister and making her squirm on his lap.

"I was-at-my friend's-birthday-party!!" She breathed out in between laughter. Harry grinned.

"Oh, Daisy! You were meant to get Tasie and Harry, not the other way round!!" My Mum said fondly as she entered the kitchen. Daisy and Harry just giggled louder, but I frowned slightly.

"Get us for what?" I asked slowly, praying it wasn't a photo or something horrible.

"For your birthday present, silly!!" She said. She laughed. "Well, it's more like a joint birthday and Christmas present." I smiled.

"Mum you didn't have to get us anything..." I started off the predictable spiel, but Mum interrupted me.

"Yes. We did and we're leaving to show you it now, so c'mon!" She clapped her hands together. Harry, who'd since started listening, and I both smiled and stood up, Harry holding Daisy's hand as we all walked into the hallway. We put our shoes on, and then split up into two separate cars: Harry and I in his and Mum and Dad and Daisy in my Dad's.

Before we left, my Dad instructed Harry to 'just follow him' so we did, driving through the little village for about five minutes.

We stopped outside a house, and Harry looked at me quizzically.

"What are they..." He started, interrupted by a sharp intake of breath from me.

"They've bought us a fucking house, Harry." I said, gesturing to a GORGEOUS house up the road that had my family and Harry's band mates standing on the driveway.

"No..." Harry said. I bit my lip in sheer disbelief and then we both got slowly out the car.

"Mum? What is this?" I murmured as I walked over to her. She grinned.

"Well, we realised we didn't want to be kept awake all night by a baby, so we had to get rid of you both somehow..." She said, wrapping her arm around my shoulder and squeezing. I burst into tears.

"This is ours?!" I sobbed, hiding in her neck. She cooed quietly and laughed.

"Mm-hmm. All yours baby." She said.

"Oh my God thank you!!" I blubbered, squeezing her before letting go and inflicting my shaky, wet hugs on everyone else.

With all excessive thank yous to fit the excessive present out the way, Daisy extravagantly passed me the front door key, and I burst into tears again when I turned the key and walked into my home.

Harry and I walked around, and I cried a little more with every perfect room we came to. Mum had explained most of the money had come from the boys and Perrie, but I knew she'd chosen it, and the effort she must have gone to to find a house that I would love so much was soooo incredible. It was my perfect, dream home. It was a feature property, and every room had gorgeous black fireplaces, or beams. The staircases had evidently been untouched since the day they were fitted when the house was built, and there were beams everywhere. Ohhh my God, it was just... Peerrfeeect.

There were four bedrooms upstairs. Mine and Harry's was stunning and timelessly elegant, with lilac painted walls and black iron furniture and an ensuite and walk-in closet attached. A lovely black cast iron rocking crib stood in front of the bed, with loads of teddies from our friends in it. The baby had their own nursery as well, obviously, and I smiled in between a sob as I saw it was a safari themed room, the theme Harry had wanted but his fans had rejected. There were another two bedrooms with 'Baby no.2?' and 'Baby no.3?' on pieces of A4 paper blu-takked to the door, which made us both laugh.

"Not for a long time, guys." Harry chuckled, pulling me to him and kissing my hair. I sobbed a little and smiled at the same time, nuzzling into the soft material of his jumper.

"Now we're like a proper little family." I sniffled, and Harry grinned, kissing my forehead.

"I love you both... So much." He whispered, sending me off on another wave of uncontrollable pregnancy-induced tears.

With the tour of the house over, we went downstairs, deciding to make the most of having our own living room. The sofas were all super comfy grey fabric ones, so we threw the cushions onto the floor, and made a little den in front of the TV, where I did my homework and Harry sent some worky emails.

When we'd both finished work, we ordered in a Chinese, and then spent the evening watching the X-Factor and eating Egg Fried Rice, curled up together by the fire.

I'd decided that I was going to begin my maternity leave after the half term holiday ended. If I didn't do that, the next sensible opportunity to leave would be after Christmas, by which point I'd be about three weeks before due, and trying to do school 37 weeks pregnant was not something I wanted to do.

So instead of actually being in the building, I did all my school work over the Internet, emailing everything I'd done to my teachers if ever they asked to see evidence I was still doing school. There was a fully furnished study ensuite to the living room, where I spent most of my days. Harry spent the majority of the month in London, as the fourth One Direction album, FOUR had been released. Most days, he'd be up early to catch a train to London, and be back late to catch one back. I didn't even notice he'd gone, to be honest, as I sat in the study listening to old music and doing my work.