Sunday, 27th March 2022
Unseasonably mild and bright in the early Spring sunshine, Harry and Eloise have enjoyed a lovely few days up in Holmes Chapel.
Aside from catching up with Anne after her holiday to South Africa, they're also keen to make the most of their last real chance to relax before the madness officially kicks up a gear.
Not to suggest it hasn't been busy already...
A palpable sense of excitement has been brewing since the launch of the mysterious You Are Home accounts over a week ago.
Then, on Wednesday, Harry released a teaser video and some album imagery, announcing the May 20th release.
He headed to the Cotswolds for a Better Homes & Gardens cover shoot with Tim Walker. Returning home with some straw still in his hair, he'd been espousing on the architecturally designed farmhouse and sprawling grounds, musing that perhaps their long-mooted private idyll might not need to be quite as remote as the Outer Hebrides.
He then spent a fair few hours the next day with Lou Stoppard - the journalist for the accompanying interview. After visiting Parliament Hill lido for a chilly dip and then warming up in a nearby café, he brought her back to the house for some privacy. On their way downstairs to chat in his studio, it was hard to avoid the crew already setting up.
The Eon publicity team commandeered the kitchen, overseeing Eloise's shoot and interview for her Vogue cover - due to hit newsstands to coincide neatly with Bond's cinematic release. So top-secret, they only ventured as far as their garden - but, hey, at least it was convenient.
The rest of her week proved just as glamorous, with a busy couple of days of fittings with her new stylist, Sinead, plus another few interviews for long-lead publications.
Heading up the M1 and then the M6 on Friday afternoon, they'd both breathed a sigh of relief, looking forward to some relative calm.
>
After a relaxing couple of days at Anne's - well, as much as it ever can be, with three one-year-olds charging around - they headed to her brother's family home for a big brunch to celebrate Mother's Day and Matty's thirtieth birthday tomorrow.
Harry's been in a mood since they arrived.
With his other cousin's daughter just six months old, the house is far from baby-proofed.
He, Eloise, Gemma, Michal, and Anne have all been crashing into each other, abandoning conversations and dodging bodies to chase after Dylan, Freya, and Mylo. Trying to keep the peace, they've already rescued candlesticks, ornaments, remote controls, a letter opener, and drinks aplenty.
The poor old cat is less than impressed.
"Ahhh!" Harry hisses. "Dylan, no! I told you." Snatching him up, he stalks into the kitchen, leaving a trail of raised eyebrows in his wake.
With a weary sigh, Eloise hands Freya to Anne to head after them.
Rinsing his hand under the tap, Harry scolds Dylan on his hip. "Look what happens when you don't listen! This is your fault."
Eloise takes their teary, remorseful son whilst checking Harry's hand.
Lulled into a false sense of security thanks to Anne's three placid girls, the grumpy tabby lashed out. It drew blood, snagging Harry's right thumb from the corner of the nail bed, down to the sensitive webby bit. It must sting like hell, but at least his lightning-fast reflexes meant old Rufus caught him, rather than Dylan. He has thicker skin - literally, if not figuratively.
"Keep rinsing it for a sec." Eloise hefts their baby bag on to the table and starts rummaging one-handed.
"I warned him a million times," Harry huffs, wincing. "Why didn't he bloody listen?"
"Because he's almost eighteen months old; learning by trial and error and testing boundaries. He can't articulate his thoughts or emotions clearly yet... What's your excuse?" she says dryly, bravely poking the bear.
"He knows 'no' when he wants to... Oh, stop, Dylan! You'll give everyone a headache," Harry says sharply, raising his voice over his crying.
"No, you stop!" Eloise rounds on him - tone sharp but barely above a discrete whisper. "You don't get to take your mood out on him. I grew up with that, and I won't have it, Harry... Here." She tosses him a plaster and an antiseptic wipe.
"This isn't fun; it's stressful," he mutters.
"You're the only one putting a downer on things," she sighs, more focused on wiping Dylan's face and nose. "Come on, H... It's Matty's birthday and Mother's Day. Can you try to snap out of it? You've been in a funk since we got here."
Face fallen, suitably chastised, he still scoffs. "Oh? Was I supposed to laugh at his shit joke about not being able to look you in the eye?"
She has to bite her tongue. Having been over it repeatedly in the last two weeks, she thought they'd finally moved past it. "I managed to..." she says pointedly. "It's awkward as hell, but at least he addressed the elephant in the room."
"Everything okay?" Harry's Aunt asks, hesitantly tiptoeing into the kitchen to flick the kettle on. "Sorry about Rufus... Oh dear, he got you good," she winces apologetically.
"The big baby has a plaster; he'll live... These Styles boys are just going to go for a quick walk around the block for some fresh air." Eloise hands Dylan back to Harry with a pointed look before turning her back on him. "Dee, you go and sit down. I can make another pot of tea."
>
The change in perspective seemed to help, and the rest of their visit passed without incident.
Back at her house, Anne snapped a photo of Eloise and Gemma on the sofa with the three little ones draped all over them, finally winding down ahead of nap time.
Nudging his mum towards them, Harry insisted on capturing the three most important women in his life.
That Anne wasted no time posting it to Instagram with an adorably sweet message, Eloise can't help but compare it to how things are with her own mum.
Without any acknowledgement for the card and flowers she sent yet, Eloise isn't confident she'll hear anything from her at all. Eventually, having cottoned on to her therapist's recommended silent treatment, Elin levelled it straight back, and still isn't speaking to her. It feels like a surprisingly bitter pill to swallow, even after all these years.
Trying to avoid slipping into a mood herself, Eloise distracts herself by heading upstairs to check on Harry.
Peeking her head around the door to his bedroom, she grins at finding him sprawled on the bed, nap trapped. "Wouldn't they go down in the travel cots?" she whispers.
"I wanted a cuddle, but then left it a bit too late." Smiling sheepishly, he nods his head, beckoning her over.
Peeling his hand off Freya's back, he stretches to tug at Eloise's fingers. "Snuggle with us for a bit?"
How could she refuse? Easing alongside them, she curls her arm below Freya and drapes her hand across Harry's hips. They both hold their breath as Dylan stirs a little before settling back down again. Huffing sleepily, he burrows his face cutely into Daddy's chest.
Twisting and craning his neck, Harry kisses Eloise's forehead. "Sorry again for earlier," he whispers earnestly. "For Matty's joke and how I handled it... The last thing I intended was to cause you any more embarrassment."
She appreciates him acknowledging it, but can't help but cringe. She really hoped they had finally moved past it.
Eyeing him intently, she takes in his furrowed brow and how he nibbles at his lip.
In turn, his eyes flit across her once glass-like face, wondering when she became a little more inscrutable to him.
After their unfortunate miscommunication around the Target leak and that nude photo fiasco, Eloise veered from blindsided to panicky, horrified, furious, humiliated, and powerless, to just pretty numb.
Stewing over it all, Harry had been in two minds over whether to address it publicly... But whenever he reminded her it was fake, she tried to explain that it didn't matter much.
She's resigned herself to everyone assuming it was real. And even if anyone didn't, they'd still associate that seedy, salacious image with her. Everyone will see her face or hear her name and picture that, and there isn't a damn thing she can do about it... Even though it's neither her body nor her bump, it feels like the most demeaning, intrusive, invasive thing that has ever happened to her.
In talking about it, she accidentally let slip about an unsavoury incident from when she had been about six months pregnant. Harry had been in Italy for work, and she hadn't wanted to dampen his trip or stress him out, so she kept quiet... Until realising the fake photo had her feeling exactly the same way.
Popping to their local Waitrose to satisfy a craving for frozen yoghurt, she was harassed by a lecherous older man. Trailing her around the aisles, he said all sorts - commenting on her big bump, how he knew she'd been naughty, and that her Daddy must have been so disappointed in a young girl like her... Urgh, he was vile. Abandoning her trolley, she'd hightailed it out of there, but felt furious and devastated at him tarnishing such a precious time. It wasn't much of a coincidence that she then bunkered down and rarely left the house for the tail-end of her pregnancy.
Hearing about it, Harry hit the roof - annoyed she hadn't told him at the time, but livid that she was made to feel bad, and certain the guy wouldn't have dared say anything if he'd been at her side.
Whilst Eloise upheld her dogged, stubborn stance with him, a moment of weakness with Rosie led to something being said, at least.
'I've known El forever and started out modelling with her back in the day, so can vouch for her having the best legs on the planet... These aren't them. This isn't her. It's fake, but still a totally unacceptable invasion of privacy. It crosses so many lines. Every pregnancy is magical and deeply personal - no one has any right to do or entertain shit like this, ever. Do better Internet.'
And, of course, once Barbara calmed down enough to listen and accepted that it wasn't real, she also had her publicity teams trashing it - albeit as 'anonymous sources,' of course.
After some humiliating headlines, cringeworthy conversations with friends and family to stress it was all nonsense, and some hastily scheduled extra sessions with Bryony, Eloise tried to focus on moving past it. Hollyweird was bound to get distracted with something else soon enough...
But Matty addressing it this morning - even flippantly and lightheartedly - evidently reopened that can of worms.
It's Harry that relents and breaks the slightly strained silence. "As soon as he said it, my mind snapped straight back to the other week," he sighs. "I just can't bear him or anyone thinking of that and judging you, or - even worse - for it to fuck with any of your real memories of that time. It's just so fucking unfair." His eyes are a watery sage green.
"It's shit..." She shrugs. "But we've been over this, H, again and again. 'Never complain, never explain,' right?"
"But you shouldn't have to put up with this bullshit," he insists, impassioned, before reining himself in again. Pausing, he presses a kiss to each of the twins' heads, then keeps his gaze locked on them. Shifting lower and softer, his voice is hesitant and hollow. "I'm worried about how much more of it you can take... You've dealt with far more than anyone should ever have to. You don't deserve it, and I know it's my fault - I make you a target."
She can only swallow thickly.
He carries on, misinterpreting her silence for stoniness. "I know, I know: you think a statement is pointless because it doesn't deserve more attention and denying it just seems so obvious... But doesn't letting it blow over just let people get away with this kind of shit unchecked? When and how will it ever end?"
That's bleak - especially when there's no way of finding the person accountable or addressing the millions who shared and clicked.
She can only shrug glumly, focusing instead on picking at a loose thread on his jeans, down by his hip.
He nudges her with his shoulder. "And what does it say about me, if I just let it go, and let people say and think that kind of stuff about you?"
She winces. Ugh, he was doing so well... "Well, is this about defending my honour or your male ego?"
Their intense gazes lock again in a silent stand-off.
"Okay, okay, so not putting anything out there ourselves," he concedes. "But what if I - we - get asked? We have so much fucking promo coming up that it feels inevitable."
"Well, then defend me or your ego however you best see fit."
Wriggling away, she shifts to sit up.
He grabs her wrist again. "El... Please?"
"Let's leave it at that, okay? I really don't want to fight about it again."
Looking up at her glumly, his eyes dart over her face again... It's possibly her lack of fight that concerns him most in all this.
With a weighty sigh, she gazes down at him... Her beautiful, grumpy bear.
Taking a steadying breath, she reminds herself - yet again - that he's just nervous ahead of the single dropping, the pressure of their schedules, Coachella looming, and then the album release... It would be preferable if she weren't the one getting the brunt of it all, but better her than the twins or Anne, she figures. She can grin and bear it a while longer.
Rallying untapped wells of patience and energy, she squeezes his hand before standing up.
Then, leaning closer again, she scoops Freya up first, shushing softly. "Come on; let's get them in their cots... We'll be away for a month. We should make the most of getting to spend today with your mum, at least."
It's time they start celebrating. If they don't find a way to enjoy the next couple of months, she's worried they might just break them.
>
>
Thursday, 31st March 2022
Things have been hotting up further since Monday, when posters appeared in cities worldwide, and Harry shared teasers from the As It Was video.
Swapping a bleak-again London, he, Eloise, Dylan, Freya, and Nina arrived in sunny LA yesterday.
Ensconced back at Jeff's empty Laurel Canyon house, they spent the afternoon settling in before succumbing to an early night.
Despite the jet lag, Harry's inevitable nerves saw him tossing and turning throughout the night and then up soon after dawn.
After venturing out for a hike to burn off some energy and then running around, attending to some errands, he's been struggling to avoid watching the clock.
But a steady stream of messages, calls, and visitors has helped lend some distraction.
Jeff, Tommy, and a couple of other members of his team have been here for most of the day. And Ben dropped off Mer and the girls, but couldn't stay long, given the final preparations ahead of the Grammy's on Sunday. Tom and Tyler materialised this afternoon, too.
The twins waking from their nap heralded the thirty-minute countdown to 4pm - which will be midnight in the UK, when the single will be released everywhere.
After attending to fresh nappies, bottles, and snacks, Harry was fresh out of distractions, and the nerves took flight.
Still, all things considered, it's by far the most relaxed and upbeat Eloise has ever seen him ahead of a release. It's always daunting and vulnerable to share something so personal, but, despite all the stress around rescheduling the launch and promo, he's feeling really good about the song and album - sure-fire hits, or so Columbia claims. Having worked on it for so long, and then had to sit on it since before heading out on tour last Autumn, it feels like it's been a long time coming.
"Gahhhh!" Harry bleats, spinning on a stool at the kitchen island before slinking off it as his eager, nervy energy bubbles over again.
Skipping goofily around, he smoothly sweeps Eloise into his arms and leads her around the kitchen in a clumsy two-step. He only lets her go to fuss over the twins - watching on and giggling at Daddy's antics from their high chairs.
Clocking there are less than ten minutes to go, Eloise makes the most of Harry's distraction and connects her phone to the Sonos speaker, teeing up the song on repeat.
Cranking the volume, they all bop around the open-plan kitchen and living room in an impromptu dance party.
Pausing to catch his breath, Harry looks around, lapping up the beaming smiles, bubbling laughter, eager singing, and some truly questionable dancing... Upbeat, joyous, optimistic, and a little silly, he can't think of a more perfect way to mark the dawn of the new era.
Swooping Dylan and Freya up, he beams at Eloise as she slings her arm around his waist, jigging around, singing the bridge and outro with gusto.
"Go home, get ahead, light-speed Internet / I don't wanna talk about the way that it was / Leave America, two kids follow her / I don't wanna talk about who's doing it first."
"As it was / You know it's not the same as it was / As it was, as it was."
Noticing the time on the oven over his shoulder, she smiles even wider. "It's four o'clock!"
"So it is." His dimples pop as he grins back.
Predictably, Jeff punctuates it with the timely pop of a champagne cork.
>
After fielding congratulatory calls and messages, then getting the twins ready for bed before enjoying an unhurried dinner out on the deck by the pool, it's time to get ready for Harry's first wave of live promo.
As he changes his t-shirt - to an equally casual smiley face ringer tee - and tries to neaten his unstyled hair, Eloise sets about making a round of coffees.
They've fared relatively well against yesterday's jet lag, but it's going to be a long night. Nearing 11pm in LA now, he has live Zoom interviews set up with several UK breakfast radio stations and then a few more for pre-recorded segments. He should finish by about 2am.
Appreciatively nailing a double espresso, Harry settles in front of the laptop set up at the table in the open-plan living room. Tommy and Luis hover on either side of him, testing the connection.
As he jokes around with Roman Kemp and the rest of the Capital FM team, Eloise curls up on one of the sofas across the room, watching on.
Despite feeling shattered already, she's bursting with pride and intent on staying awake in support.
In great spirits, Harry goofs around with them, joking about the time and accepting their ribbing him about dialling in from LA like a proper celebrity. With the station having been briefed on what not to ask - including his upcoming movies and Eloise and that fake photo - the conversation flows smoothly.
Inevitably, after asking about Ruby's voice at the beginning of the track, given the theme of the song - about metamorphosis and what is and isn't in your control - they touch on parenthood and quite how much has changed, but Roman keeps it light and respectful.
Harry giggles as he clocks Eloise smiling like a loon.
Catching herself, she then has to swallow a lump in her throat when he thanks his fans for waiting so patiently and for all their unwavering support over the years. She knows he means every single word from the bottom of his heart.
She smiles even brighter when he talks about how happy he is. "I kind of feel like I'm making music from a real place of personal freedom, and that's a really liberating place to be creating from".
They chat about the promotion and various fan theories about what might have been hints or just coincidences. Harry's bemused at the level of interest and detective work - from noting all his references to 'home' whilst on tour, to suggesting the number of fingers held up in Pleasing shots codified the release dates...
"I think they think I'm smarter than I am," he laughs it off bashfully. In truth, everyone would be shocked at the pre-planning involved. Whilst sometimes they do have fun hinting and teasing at things, there are a lot of happy coincidences and some belated creative joining of the dots, too.
As Roman dances and weaves, hoping to score a scoop about rumoured collaborators, Harry lets him down gently. Shaking his head, he chuckles. "No collabs, yet again, I'm afraid... I must be an anti-social musician!"
The neighbour's dog barking again distracts him as things start drawing to a close.
Nina has the baby monitor in her bedroom to avoid any interference, but a sudden piercing cry from Dylan startles them all.
With a new molar almost ready to cut through, he's been struggling with the pain, and the noise of his grumpy, overtired frustration permeates the compact house.
Roman and his co-presenters coo and pout, whispering jokily.
Grimacing, Harry playfully hangs his head in defeat as Freya promptly joins the affray.
Jumping up, Eloise clambers over the back of the sofa, whispering, "sorry, sorry, sorry!" before darting to the twins' bedroom to help Nina settle them again.
Chuckling, Harry waves off the guys' concern over the camera.
"Did you do that on purpose? Is this your new way of getting me off the phone?" Roman jokes.
"If only I could switch them on and off like that!" he laughs ruefully.
With a final thank you and wave, he signs off and disconnects the call.
With only a few minutes to spare before his call with Greg James for BBC Radio 1, Harry dashes to the bathroom before checking how Eloise and Nina getting on with settling the twins again.
>
>
Monday, 4th April 2022
With continued calls with US and international radio stations, Friday and then the weekend passed in a blur.
With the single and music video out, a raft of promotional photos wallpapered social media and high-profile billboards thanks to the support of Spotify, Apple, Amazon, and YouTube.
The downloads and streams racked up at a staggering rate, and the album pre-sales figures have already smashed those of his previous releases.
With universal praise for As It Was and being on high rotation at radio stations worldwide, it broke Spotify's all-time record for the biggest single-day streams ever.
The records and accolades just keep coming. Topping the Spotify and iTunes charts, Harry racked up number ones in the UK, US, and many other international markets. And it's still only the beginning...
It's been a long time coming and planned (and then re-planned) meticulously, but the initial success has blown them all away - not least Harry himself.
>
But, parking music, just for now, they're back to Bond business again today.
With the unenviable job of coordinating so many schedules, the EON team made the most of Harry's availability before bunkering down for Coachella rehearsals, and a tiny gap in Daniel's Macbeth run on Broadway. Working miracles, they managed to pull everyone back together in LA for an epic group photoshoot.
Well, almost everyone... It's just Daniel, Idris, and the new recruits - without their delectable villainous trio (Bill, Colin, and Emma), or Ralph and the other old-timers.
To keep everything as under-wraps as possible, just one esteemed photographer - Greg Williams, who's been involved with Bond for over twenty years - will shoot everything. But he will be joined throughout the day by a select few delegates from Vanity Fair, Variety, and Interview to input on their exclusive cover shots. He will also shoot plenty of additional images for syndication in GQ, L'Officiel, The Sunday Times, Hollywood Reporter, Deadline, and Entertainment Weekly.
Eloise will be back here again tomorrow for additional solo shoots for Bazaar and Elle. And Daniel, Jack, and John also have a raft of solo press obligations for other titles.
With such tight security, the usual gaggle of glam teams and stylists have all been stripped right back. As have the production crew and studio employees.
Contending with nine high-profile stars, their various agents, managers, and assistants milling around outnumber the crew actually working.
Having struggled to find a facility with enough green rooms, they're holed up in a cavernous, self-contained, heavily guarded studio on Universal's lot.
With security having confiscated everyone's phones and devices, it's noisy as everyone catches up whilst getting ready.
Well, almost everyone - one vanity station remains empty.
Willing Harry to hurry, Eloise has been watching the clock while her hair (the guys had all fawned over her drastic chop) is painstakingly blown out and artfully tousled and tweaked.
On the one hand, she's glad the guys got their comments and commiserations about that damn fake photo out of the way before Harry's arrival, but she knows he's more nervous for Coachella than he's letting on, and he hates being late for anything.
Ready before all the guys - only thanks to her much earlier call time - and unable to sit down without creasing her dress, she flips through Harry's rail, appreciating the artistry and elegance of the custom tuxedos in black and inky blue. Predictably, they're Gucci, but classically tailored.
Otherwise, there's some directional knitwear, a few colourful and patterned shirts and an array of checked trousers, but it's relatively demure and more muted than usual - well, for Harry.
Ryan - Harry Lambert's long-time assistant, on hand today - sidles over, pouting. "Kinda dull, right? But don't blame me! H told us to tone it down."
Eloise whips her head up in surprise. "Did he?" But then she considers it... He really wants to be taken seriously as an actor. Hollywood is less predictable than it once was, but it's still not the music industry where anything goes. She also suspects he might have been trying to avoid detracting attention from her.
Realising the extent to which her own rail eclipses all the guys', she suddenly feels a flash of anxiety... It's supposed to be an ensemble cast, after all. Might it look like she's trying too hard, or suggest she thinks she has the role in the bag?
Her lovely new stylist, Sinead, has worked wonders pulling together such an incredible selection of pieces and having them all altered in time, but might her enthusiasm at playing in the big leagues have had her getting carried away?
To no surprise, there are beautifully cut shirts and blouses and Saint Laurent classics - skinny tuxedo trousers, single-breasted jackets, and waistcoats in black silk, black velvet (no chance!), and midnight blue. And also a Zuhair Murad black maxi skirt with a thigh-high slit and built-in cummerbund-style high-waist, to be paired with an incredible Miu Miu crystal-embellished sheer black long-sleeved bodysuit.
Then there's a sultry slip dress and also a high-neck halter dress with a thigh-high split - both in black silk, backless, and flashing a lot of leg. And an Oscar de la Renta nude strappy mini dress with a fun fringed sequin overlay.
There are some even bolder and more outlandish options, too - from a Valentino hot pink embellished jacquard mini dress to a Ralph & Russo couture cocktail dress in black and silver pleated-tulle with a dramatically gathered strapless neckline. Least subtle of all is possibly the voluminous Oscar de la Renta pale blue silk-faille gown with a high-low hem and crystal-embellished strapless corset.
It's a bit late to rethink it all now, and she'll stand out amongst the guys in whatever she wears, but Eloise figures she'll need to be mindful to avoid hogging the limelight in the group shots.
She's pulled from her musings at the now familiar clanking in the far corner of the studio. As the wide roller door opens again, a blacked-out Escalade pulls in.
Knowing the rigmarole of all the COVID checks take a while, she makes a beeline for the coffee station to make herself useful.
>
Arriving late, with Jeff and Luis in tow, Harry's flustered, having been stuck in terrible traffic on Santa Monica Boulevard after a breakfast meeting in Century City with Mitch Rose, his music agent at CAA.
He's doubly regretting having agreed to it - for being even later than anticipated, and now, more than ever, struggling to remember how he ever let Jeff talk him into Coachella in the first place.
After getting the nod from the COVID officer, an awkwardly loitering production assistant pounces, intent on ushering Harry straight to his waiting glam team.
Looking around, scanning for Eloise, he baulks at the size and scale of the shoot, feeling even worse for being late.
But the mood seems light and jovial as the photographer's crew bustle around, readying the set whilst the glam teams hover around the vanity stations grouped in the adjacent corner.
Harry counts that three other stations also sit empty.
He spots Idris sitting hunched over a laptop on the sprawling sectional sofa near the craft services table. Nodding to the beat, he suspects he's playing DJ again.
Behind him, Harry finally finds Eloise at the drinks table, chatting with Jack.
The first to spot him, Jack's Scottish burr sings out. "Hey! Superstar! Nice of you to join us, mate!"
Swatting at him, Eloise goes to scoop up three coffee cups but then thinks better of it. Passing two to Jack, she grabs the smallest cup and spins on her heel to head over to Harry.
Her skipping stride shifts into a slinky sashay as Idris seamlessly segues into As It Was and ramps up the volume.
As the other guys hoot and cheer, a squirmy Harry grimaces and playfully flips Idris off, but he can't help but smile at Eloise's moves.
"Hush your whining, you!" Idris calls out with a laugh. "This is a tune, my friend! And it's been in my head all damn weekend!"
But Harry's already distracted. Thanking Eloise as she hands him an espresso, his other hand palms her waist, eager for a closer look.
Setting his coffee on the vanity, he eagerly slides a hand inside the open white waffle robe keeping her warm until she's under the studio lights. Nudging it off one shoulder, he bites his lip.
His eyes widen, drinking her in...
It's an incredible black mesh gown. With a caged bustier, topped with ruffles and matching off-the-shoulder straps, its semi-sheer skirt flows to the floor in fine pleats. With high-waisted black briefs and nude lined cups helping to keep things modest, it's somehow sexy and structured, yet soft and romantic all at the same time. It's one hell of a dress. She's an absolute knockout.
The fierce Guiseppe Zanotti pumps and the sparkling diamond earrings and bracelet make her feel even more like a (badass) princess. His reaction only stokes her confidence.
"It's Dior..." she purrs. "You like?"
"Fucking love," he draws it out.
"Too much?" she grimaces, feeling self-conscious again.
"And yet not enough."
"Not too skimpy?"
"You look incredible, Babe!" Tugging at one of the dainty bows tied at her shoulders, he jokes, "not quite as good as earlier, mind." Smirking knowingly in reference to her lopsided mum bun, in one of his oversized sweatshirts, with her old faithful denim shorts just peeking out underneath, she knows he'd take her any which way.
Having had the nod from his glam team, Daniel heads over and greets Harry whilst fawning over Eloise, all dolled up.
He looks around and frowns. "Oh, come on! Don't tell me you didn't bring the twins, either?" He and Idris, have been particularly eager to see them again.
Eloise chuckles exasperatedly. "Like I already said!"
"Sorry! But we could maybe have Nina swing by with them later?"
Eloise shakes her head at Harry. "They'd be a nightmare, charging around and into everything. And, besides, we have a lot to do today... Dotti, Malcolm, have at him! We'll stop distracting you."
"Eloise?" Greg, the photographer, calls out. "We're ready when you are, please... Ah, perfect, and you, too, Daniel."
>
As Malcolm starts attending to his hair, Harry juggles an electric shaver between his hands whilst Dotti removes the remnants of his turquoise polish before getting started on his face.
Eloise has repeatedly pointed out that she doesn't think letting them get so chipped is the greatest endorsement for the Pleasing polishes, but still.
Perched on the far end of the vanity, Jeff watches the action on set, intrigued. "I just realised that I've never seen El doing her thing, properly working it for a photographer before. I don't know why I'm surprised, but she's a total pro!"
Flitting his eyes to her in the mirror again, Harry has to rein in his grin whilst shaving his lip. "This isn't her first rodeo! She started out modelling, remember?"
He watches on proudly. She's blessed with a remarkably symmetrical face, but still knows her angles and how to work with her long limbs. That balletic poise comes to the fore as she quickly nails pose after pose - to Greg's utter delight.
Getting frustrated with one lock of Harry's hair that refuses to be tamed and stay in place, Malcolm asks if he can quickly trim it.
Overhearing from where he hangs out at the next station, Jack pipes up to ask Harry if he'd ever grow it out again. He can remember the shock of first seeing it cut in their early days on Dunkirk.
It isn't long before the other guys get involved and flock closer. Having been sceptical as to how long it had once been, Jack commandeered Idris' laptop to pull up an old photo.
Stepping off set whilst Greg moves on to some individual shots of Daniel, Eloise heads back over to the guys.
Seeing what they're all looking at has her feeling squirmy.
God, Harry looked incredible that day at The Late Late Show, getting that damn tattoo. He really should wear more pale blue. And yes, maybe consider growing his hair again.
She swats Jack yet again as he calls her out for looking all moony.
Harry defends her, cheeky as ever. "Hey, cut her some slack! That's the me she fell in love with." To be fair, the knowing smirk he shoots her in the mirror hasn't aged a day.
Shaking her head, she saunters closer and runs her fingers up the side of his neck and along his jaw. She hasn't seen him so clean-shaven in what feels like forever.
"So smooth..." she sasses cleverly. "Looking suave, Styles!" Drinking him in appreciatively, she has to resist biting her lip to avoid ruining her lipstick... Heaven help her when he slips into that tux.
Careful of her make-up and Dotti's handiwork, she bends and barely nuzzles his cheek. "My beautiful, baby-faced boy." Her voice is soft in his ear, but her eyes are intent, locked on his in the mirror.
His flit between hers and what the angle and that bustier do to her cleavage. Too distracted to take notice of the guys' ribbing, he grabs her hand and entwines their fingers.
Her eyes drop to skim the vanity. "Did you forget your rings?"
He shrugs. "Got the only one that matters." He thumbs his wedding ring with his free hand before squeezing her fingers again. "So...?"
"So what?"
"Should I grow it again?"
She tilts her head, trying to picture it on him now, absentmindedly stroking the nape of his neck... God, she used to love tugging at his long locks and twirling those ringlets.
Flicking her freshly-cropped hair out from against her neck, she just shrugs. "Do whatever you want with your hair... It's just the cherry on top. I love you any which way."
Lipstick be damned. Eloise kisses his smooth cheek before Dotti can playfully scold them and shoo her away.
>
Later, over their lunch break, Harry squeezed in a call with his Columbia team. It providing an excuse to shake off a few of the guys' attempts to blag Coachella tickets was an unexpected but not unwelcome bonus.
It was no lie that Barbara would hit the roof, but he's nervous enough already without the pressure of yet more familiar faces staring up at him... As it is, he's been trying to push all their other friends to the second weekend anyway, when he should be a little more relaxed and they'll be celebrating Tom's fortieth birthday.
Glazing over at the endless stream of numbers and projections being bounced around on the call, Harry couldn't help but watch Eloise across the studio - goofing around, having an impromptu dance-off with Idris.
He knew she must have had a hand in it - Beyoncé's Grown Woman and Before I Let Go are two of her favourites. Her breathless laughter sang out, even over the music and Jack egging them on whilst John filmed it with a running commentary.
Seeing her basking in some attention for once, he could appreciate how at ease and confident she is with them all now, compared to how tough she'd been on herself at the start of filming.
He also realised he's perhaps become a little complacent in seeing her in wife and mum mode.
This afternoon, she's undoubtedly anything but...
"Yes, Eloise, yes!" Greg gushes from behind his camera. "That's it! Chin down a tad, then look up at me... Yes, perfect! Just like that. Can you step again, as you were before, just for some movement through that dress?"
After wrapping up his call, Harry hurriedly brushes his teeth again before changing into another suit.
Eloise is under the lights alone for now, but a few of the other guys are already gathered at the edge of the set, lingering and watching on whilst awaiting the nod to join her.
As they shift, Harry catches sight of one of the monitors. He almost gives himself whiplash with the speed of his double-take at the sight of her, poured into a slinky, strappy black silk dress with a thigh-high split and a daringly low back.
He didn't spot it whilst flicking through her rail earlier or catch her after lunch, but holy shit...! Mouth agape, toothbrush dangling, he eyes her hotly, drinking it and her in.
Spinning to peer over her shoulder towards the camera, Eloise happens to catch Harry's eye and startles.
"Fucking minx!"
Just about able to translate what he mouths around his toothbrush and mouthful of toothpaste, it makes her giggle and blush.
"Oh, God, yes! Let me see that last one!" Greg crows, heading back to his monitor. "Eloise, we got tonnes there... Thanks for showing them how it's done! Right, come on, lads, let's be having you... Get out here, and we'll figure out what to do with you all this time."
As he and the set dressers step on to the stage area, Harry jumps to attention and hurries to get dressed again.
>
The day proves full-on, but remarkably fluid and easygoing.
Greg shoots fast and loose, with a knack for catching spectacular fleeting moments in his viewfinder.
It's trickier with nine people to corral, but they flit between posed and candid shots to keep everyone fresh and focused.
Between quick changes and some tweaks to Eloise's hair to help lend some variety, they mix it up with the different backdrops: varying solid colours, fabric drapes and the brick back wall. There are various props, too: an iconic, immaculate old Aston Martin DB5, a mix of classic Eames chairs, stacks of oversized steel tubing, and vintage wooden gym equipment.
They have kept the configurations loose and varied, but agreed early on that intentionally separating Harry and Eloise felt odd. Clocking an unnatural distance between a married couple only distracts from the wider shot. Besides, with their innate chemistry, they help set each other at ease, anyway.
Between coordinating the big group numbers, Greg swaps them out for individual shots as and when they're ready, to make use of any opportune downtime.
Harry and Eloise stand close, eyeing one of the monitors whilst Greg captures some great shots of Daniel.
When the technician cuts back to scroll through all the shortlisted selects so far, he happens to pause on a group shot.
It feels good to have the gang back together. And seeing the results of their efforts only makes it feel all the more real. For the first time, Harry and Eloise both feel a palpable sense of excitement over what's in store.
Chatting quietly amongst themselves, complimenting the lighting, they both jump as Greg pops up to her left. "Looking good, right? Happy?"
"Amazing!"
"Very! I can't believe how much you've managed to get already."
With his iPad in hand, he zooms in on the same shot, cropping in on the two of them. "God, you two look really good together... Your eyes are striking, too, Harry. Whose did your kids get?"
He chuckles fondly. "Dylan has hers; Freya has mine."
"Lucky them." Greg grins, looking between them. Checking his watch, he surreptitiously nods towards the set. "Go on, let me get one of the two of you... Just for you, obviously."
Neither of them needs asking twice.
>
Remarkably, there's only been one thorn in anyone's side so far today.
One of Barbara's uppity assistants has darted around, constantly snapping photos to send her before sharing her muddled commentary back.
It was hardly surprising that it was Daniel who cracked first. He more than earned his Executive Producer credit over his long tenure, and is still the top-billed star for this final film, but with one foot already out the door, it seems he's rapidly running out of fucks to give. "Look, Babs isn't here, is she? It's crazy late in London now, so let's focus on cracking on... She'll see all the shots anyway, and we all know she won't hesitate to let her thoughts be known," he adds in a pointed stage whisper.
Catching the panicky assistant's wide eyes, he softens up again. "If she cared that much, she'd be here... So we'll trust the brilliant teams here to do their jobs, and if there's any problem, I'll take the flak. I'm running out of opportunities to go toe-to-toe with her anyway!"
He smiles naughtily before spinning on his heel and stepping back on to set.
It's not just the assistant left gulping in his wake. Eloise, Jack, and John all trade pointed looks.
>
Taking heed - or perhaps just knowing their place - the few people on hand from the various magazines throughout the day have mostly hung back and let Greg keep doing his thing... The results speak for themselves.
Befitting the 'jewels in the crown' theme intended for the GQ cover story, the penultimate set-up has them all gathered around the sparkling Aston Martin. They're back in more classic looks, but with some suitably jewel-toned touches via bow ties, pocket squares, cummerbunds, socks, and shoes.
As a lads' mag, even Harry isn't surprised when their editor tries his luck and asks if Eloise would be willing to up the ante.
She's already wearing the Miu Miu jewelled mesh bodysuit and the Zuhair Murad black maxi skirt with the sky-high slit, but, feeling safe in Greg's expert hands, she's willing to give it a go... She's yet to see any of his photos ooze anything but class. And, besides, her contract stipulates approval rights on the shots, anyway. What is there to lose?
Greg continues snapping some candid shots of the guys admiring the car whilst Eloise heads back over to Sinead with the editor.
Confabbing, they put their heads together to mull over the options before Eloise ducks behind the drapes to get changed.
>
As she struts back over, Eloise's gaze is locked on Harry, eager to catch his reaction. Able to read him like a book, she won't hesitate to spin around and change again.
To be fair, it was her that suggested the cummerbund - albeit for a laugh. When Sinead and the editor's eyes both lit up, she figured she should at least humour them... Well, it turns out the joke's on her.
Harry's waist proved too trim. Even let out all the way, the few cummerbunds Ryan brought for him were all too tight.
After checking with the other stylists, Sinead skipped back with a deep emerald green one of Idris'.
Eloise's strapless bra is visible from behind, but it works perfectly as a makeshift bandeau-come-tube-top.
Even with the skirt's high waist, it's definitely daring.
Predictably still distracted by the car - now peering into the open bonnet - it's not Harry that spots her first.
"Oh, she is not playing!" Greg whistles.
Still keeping her eyes on Harry, Eloise giggles at him dodging the bonnet as he whips his head up.
Eyes wide, his throat bobs, and his mouth opens and closes wordlessly.
She keeps her eyes on him as she twists, warning Greg about her bra strap.
"Looking foxy, Mrs Styles!" Idris cheers, jostling Harry good-naturedly.
'Happy?' Daniel mouths, pointedly checking in with her.
Waiting until Harry whispers a "fuck me", and his lip tips up into a smirk before he tugs at it, Eloise takes a deep breath before nodding and stepping back under the lights.
Clocking her high heels, Greg calls out to his team. "Can we get the apple boxes back out here again, please?"
Poor Riz, Tom, Charlie, and Daniel have had to resort to a little boost throughout the day to avoid Eloise towering over them in various statement heels.
Greg tries them all in a few different positions until he and the GQ editor are happy with the composition.
Eloise is perched on the Aston Martin, reclining against the windscreen with one foot on the front wheel, and her other leg bent up, extended down the bonnet, exposing even more skin.
Harry is shifted around, getting gradually closer to Eloise - and he's not complaining.
Trying to balance the composition for a final take, Greg has Eloise sit up and splay her legs, but positions Harry in front of her to keep it modest. With one elbow propped on his shoulder, there's something hot and almost predatory in their stances and intent expressions.
As Greg repositions a few of the other guys around the car, Harry arches back, leaning to whisper in Eloise's ear.
"Psst, Styles?"
She leans forward. "Mmm-hmm?"
"Wanna go on a date with me tonight?" He whispers it lowly, but Tom's amused snort suggests it wasn't quite quiet enough.
Eloise reflexively goes to bury her giggle in Harry's neck, but she pulls back just in time to avoid smearing her make-up on his silky lapel.
"Well, look at you, Mr. Impromptu Romantic!" she teases, deftly sliding her fingers into the vents of his jacket, making him squirm. "What will it cost me?"
He knows exactly what she means, the minx, but, ironically, little does she know that she's already cost him a fair bit today - and not just in having to will away far too many inopportune boners.
He had a surreptitious word with Sinead earlier, offering to buy the Dior bustier gown and one of the Saint Laurent tuxes in case they won't already let her keep them, given both were altered especially. But Eloise doesn't need to know that yet...
"That depends entirely on whether you wear-"
Her fingers digging into his ribs have his smart mouth tapering into a groan as she sets him squirming.
"Oh, behave, you two!" Jack teases. "You'll have her home soon enough."
Flipping him off, Eloise leans forward to whisper in Harry's ear again. "Can we rain-check that date? I have another crazy early call time... But how about we pick up some of that grilled salmon you love from Pace on the way home and then slip into the hot tub?"
Her exposed thigh proves a magnet for Harry's palm, and he surreptitiously squeezes it in fervent agreement - already picturing her getting into and then back out of that little yellow bikini he loves so much.
He's still smirking like the cat that got cream throughout the first takes of their last shot of the day.
So damn achingly proud of her and of her being his, he can't help but reflect on how things seem to be looking up... Hoping all their Bond promo goes this smoothly, he's surprised to find himself genuinely looking forward to it all. He can't wait to see her shine.
*A/N: Look at me, being all nice to Eloise for almost a whole chapter! Holler if you want references of the outfits... You know I love me a moodboard! Xx
*Please, please remember to vote!! And comments are always hugely appreciated for feedback... To those that do, thank you so much - it really does help motivate me to keep writing for you xx