Thank you so much for reading, please comment on what you think so far! - M
June 12th, 2001
"Mum?" I say peering down at her by the side of her hospital bed. I take a seat next to her. Her lips are a pale blue colour and her once tanned skin is now flushed a white colour. The only colour being her green eyes when she opens them to meet mine. This isn't how I want to remember her. This isn't how I want to remember my Mum.
"My sweet Tilly, how are you?" Just like her to ask how I am and forget about this entire situation. I look up at the monitor next to her, 33 beats per minute. The beep mocks me and I feel tears well in my eyes.
"I'm okay Mum, how are you?"
You're so stupid Tilly why would you ask that of all questions she's in pain.
Mum gives a soft laugh followed by a deep cough. She should be at home. She should be tending to the garden, the sun browning her skin just right. She should be dancing around the kitchen with my Dad, laughing and a glass of red wine in her hand. She should be snuggled up on the lounge with me watching movies. But instead, she's lying in a hospital bed in this dark room struggling to breathe. The sunflowers beside her bed are wilting, petals dropping to the ground.
"Tilly, in all honesty, I'm not well and I may not be here for much longer..." She says breathing hastily.
Please not right now. Not ever. I'm not ready.
"Mum..." I say feeling a burn in my cheeks as my eyes begin to tear up.
"No Tilly, baby, listen to me... You're going to be a star. You're going to do it with or without me by your side. You're going to have amazing people around you and you will achieve success. Don't ever stop until..." She trails off and closes her eyes. I take her hand in mine, listening to her slow breaths. I tried to paint her nails every week with a different colour to brighten her up. Her nails are a bright yellow colour, juxtaposing against her pale skin.
"Mum please don't leave me... I can't... lose you." I say through sobs placing my head on her stomach, careful not to hurt her. I feel her hand gently stroke my hair and fumble at my ear. "I love you." I say, feeling her hand slow down. I get a sick feeling in my stomach.
"Mum?" I whisper.
No response.
March 28th, 2015
I wake up and scramble at the sheets around me, my black singlet drenched in sweat and my eyes crusty from crying in my sleep. I catch my breath and take a deep breath, steadying my breathing to a slow pace. I grip my chest with my hand, the other holding my body up. The sun is only just rising, and its golden rays pour through the window, spreading across the bed. I reach for my phone to call Dad, Anne or even Gemma but my hand is met with the cold wood of the side table.
Right. No phone.
I rub my eyes and get out of bed, walking myself to the bathroom and turn the shower on. I step in, not waiting for it to warm up. The cold-water splashes against my back and I let out a gasp. Now I'm really awake. I close my eyes and the dream replays in my head.
The memories come flushing back and it makes me feel rubbish. I miss her so fucking much its physically painful.
The water begins to heat up as I start to feel better and I use the body wash to clean my skin. Today is the first day of many for filming. Today I meet with the cast and begin a journey I've wanted to begin for ages.
The air is warm when I step out of the shower. A big change from England.
October 31st, 2009
"It's so cold!" Harry yells out to me from the bathroom. I can practically hear him shivering.
"I don't know why you're even going to this party it's freezing out!" I say snuggling deeper into the blankets of my warm bed.
"Because I bought my costume, I saved for it and now I'm going to wear it!" He says. The door is open ajar, and I peak at what he's doing with his hair.
"Lindsay Buckingham doesn't wear his hair like that, Harry." I say turning to lay on my side and face him.
"Yes, he does." Harry responds. I roll my eyes and look at the photo frame next to my bed of Mum and Dad laying on a picnic blanket. Mum was a hairdresser and I'm sure she could fix this mess. I get up out of bed and knock on the bathroom door. "Can I come in, H?" I hear a quick "Yep." And push the door open to see him, one hand bearing a hairdryer, the other a hairbrush.
"As the daughter of Holmes Chapel's best hairdresser, I feel like it's my absolute obligation to help you during your time in need." I say holding my hand out, offering to help. He rolls his eyes and passes me the hairbrush. I reach my arms up at his hair but he's a lot taller than I am. Making the job kinda hard. He notices me struggling and gestures to my bed. I nod and follow him where he sits on the corner.
"You have so much hair you could pass off as Cousin It from the Addams Family." I laugh at him. "I think I'll watch that tonight actually." I say tapping my index finger to my chin. Harry doesn't look amused at my comment.
"I wish you would just come." He says, wrapping his arms around my torso. I smile and look up at the ceiling. I know his affection is platonic, but I love it so much. I continue to tug at his unruly curls, feeling my cheeks blush.
Stop it.
"Well, you know my Halloween tradition is to stay at home and watch cult classic horror films. Gotta pick up the knack for it y'know? For when I'm the lead in a horror movie." I don't suppose I'll actually ever do a horror movie. I'm more the drama or romantic comedy type of person.
Harry rolls his eyes at me and lets go of my torso, tilting his head to look up at me. "Please just come. Lindsay always has his Stevie?" He says holding both palms together, pleading me to come. I look out the window at the gloomy dark skies. "Its gonna rain, H. And while you're getting the train into town, I'll be rugged up in a dressing gown watching Edward Scissorhands. Plus, I don't even have a costume." I shrug my shoulders, finishing his hair.
"You dress like you're from the 70s just pick something out of your cupboard." He groans, pointing at my wardrobe. I look over at it trying to find any possible excuse under the sun not to go to this party. I cannot stand parties. It's always made me confused as to why people stand around drinking straight vodka until they drop to the ground.
"Hmmm... what about her tambourine? My outfit wouldn't be complete without the iconic Tambourine." I say placing the hairbrush in my bathroom drawer.
"You've got me there." He says. I turn around and look at Harry who's now standing in the bathroom door. "Please come with me, you'll have so much fun it'll be great!" He says pouting his lips at me. "I love you, H but not happening." I push past him and he sighs.
"Fine, Tilly be boring!" He says throwing his hands up. I get back into bed and watch as he puts his shoes on, carefully tying them. I smile.
"What are you looking at?" He says smirking, looking down at his feet admiring his lacework.
"Oh, nothing." I brush it off and roll over to grab the TV remote.
"Well, I'd better go then, I'll miss the train. I'm meeting Pat at the station." I smile and get up to hug him goodbye.
"Be safe, H." I say as I let go.
I really wish I'd gone to that party.
December 23rd, 2015
"I'm boarding the flight in fifteen minutes Dad! I need to go!" I say trying to hush myself on the phone, so no one recognises my voice. The premiere for 'Pond' is in February but the publicity of the film is like nothing I've ever seen before. Everywhere I go my face is on a billboard, the side of a bus, even times fucking square. I look around and see a group of bigger built men with black tee shirts on and cameras. Very, very big cameras.
"I love you and I'm very sorry for what I'm about to do but I need to go. Cya!" I say hanging up the phone and shoving it into the pocket of my coat. I watch as the men scan the airport for someone to take photos of. One points in my direction and I bite my lip.
Shit.
I hear my flight being called over the loudspeaker and I rush to the boarding entrance. Catching flights is so much easier than it was all those months ago. Now it just feels like a chore. I take my seat on the plane and look up at the small TV. A lady with salon-fresh curls stands with a microphone out the front of the X-Factor house. The headline, 'One Direction announces Hiatus.' Across the bottom of the screen.
No way. I think to myself.
I try to listen to the reporter but the flight attendant switches the screen off and the seatbelt light comes on. This can't be happening. How did I not know? I've been so busy with work I haven't even been paying attention to social media. I reach for my phone to check Harry's socials.
He's definitely posted something.
The flight attendant approaches me and I don't want to seem like some up themselves starlet so I put it away but there's one thing I can't shake from my mind.
What the fuck happened and is Harry okay?
I shake my head at the disbelief of my own thoughts.
You know what, who cares what he thinks. It's been almost three years since we've spoken. I deserve communication. I deserve a real friendship. I thought Harry and I were close. So much for being a 'best friend'. I sit back in my seat and prepare for take-off. The plane makes my ears pop but once were steady in the sky I fix my ears up and listen to music. I relax and close my eyes ready to sleep for the next nine hours.
"Every. Single. Fucking. Day." What a joke that was.
December 24th, 2015
The airport is packed. Literally packed. People in suits litter my view with a sea of grey and briefcases. I spot a family dressed in multiple layers, beanies and gloves, lugging brightly coloured suitcases and carry-ons. The mother is holding her children's hands while who I presume is the father, is on the phone. The woman looks like she's about to scream. I gather my baggage and walk over to them through the sea of people.
"Do you need any help?" I ask softly, gesturing a hand to her luggage. I look at her and she smiles with warm eyes. "No, it's okay. Thank you... Nicky! I asked you to put the radio in your backpack!" I look over to the child whose standing with his father, laughing on the phone not realising the stress his wife is clearly under. My eyes follow back to the woman. "No, really I insist. Do you need anything? I'll call a taxi if you need it. It's not a problem my lift is gonna be a little late anyways." I lie.
"You wouldn't mind?" She asks.
"Not one bit. I'm Tilly by the way." I say shaking her hand as I pull out my phone to call a taxi service.
"Amanda. That's James over there on the phone. Our family was meant to pick us up, but they're stuck in traffic, so we told them to go home." I look at James but a man behind him with his back catches my eye. "It's the time of the year I guess..." I trail off, my eyes fascinated by the man with his back to me. His hair falls down his shoulders with curls spiralling down his coat. His shoes surrounded by Gucci baggage, look smart and he's on the phone to someone. I suppose he's just another businessman. A stylish businessman.
I call the family a cab and walk them out to meet with the taxi man. My mind thinks about the man with the long hair. I never saw his face, but I can only imagine he's attractive.
I wave the family off and seek out my own. I catch Dad holding a sign that reads, "My Daughter" in black sharpie. I feel a sense of belonging when our eyes meet. I run up to him, dropping my bags and leap at him.
"Dad!" I yell out.
"My daughter, oh my you've changed so much! Are you eating?" He asks frantically.
"Yes, yes, almost too much!" I laugh. He presses his hands to my face, and I watch as tears form in his eyes.
"Don't you start with the tears! Then I'll start crying!" I say wrapping my arms around him.
I really missed my Dad. I really missed home.
The traffic on the drive home wasn't great but being with my Dad after eight months was perfect. We chatted about work on both our behalves, Anne, Gemma, Robin, the house, LA and many other things. He looks so happy to see me and the feeling is most definitely mutual.
"I have something for you... It's in the glovebox." He says.
I reach for the glovebox.
My snack pack!
I must have gasped because he's chuckling to himself. "I know you've probably gotten the newest or latest phone but what is the use in giving it the chuck?" I smile and turn it on ready to type in the passcode.
"I didn't want to ship it out in case it got lost..." He says.
"Oh Dad, I'm glad you didn't who knows what would've happened to the poor bugger."
I look down at my phone screen that's now open.
No. fucking. Way.
March 27th, 2015, 10:58 am: 1 missed call from H Styles
So the missed call almost a year ago was from Harry!
I hope you're enjoying it. :) - M