It's You [H.S.]

10.1 | With you

6th January 2018

Christmas and the New Year passed in a blur.

Eloise and Harry spent their first Christmas Day together, with his family, up in Holmes Chapel, before heading back down to London. They'd ended up spending a quiet New Year's Eve with her family, mostly just cooing over baby Ruby.

Before they knew it, Harry was dropping Eloise at Heathrow.

She flew back to LA on Tuesday, for a couple of days of promotion and her final fittings.

Her embellished Temperley midi dress hadn't quite been ready, so Harry was due to play mule for her and bring it with him instead.

Having to stay on in London for a few meetings, he was always due to be cutting it a little fine to get back in time for tonight's BAFTA LA Tea Party.

But when his flight early yesterday evening was delayed on the runway and then eventually cancelled due to a technical fault, he knew he'd been cutting it really fine.

There was a problem with the baggage system and he'd left the airport almost empty handed, but had been assured that his misplaced suitcases would be waiting for him when he checked in again the next morning.

In fact, they hadn't been waiting; but he'd been assured all was in hand and they would soon be being loaded directly into the plane's hold. No problem.

>

Evidently, British Airways are full of shit.

After pandemonium in the baggage hall at LAX, he receives assurances, again, that his suitcases will arrive later today and then be delivered to his house in the Hills that night.

He knows he's screwed.

After finding his driver, he takes a deep breath and chuckles nervously as Harry Lambert pats him on the knee and lets out a low whistle.

"...Oh, ha ha, very funny!", Eloise laughs flatly after Harry's sheepish admission.

Rubbing his neck, he clears his throat nervously. "I'm really sorry, but I'm not messing around, babe", he winces.

"Come on, H, please...", she tails off, hesitantly.

Hearing him swallow thickly, the penny drops.

"Fuck! Shit, but I don't think I have anything else fancy enough here...?", he can hear her jogging up the stairs already. "Oh, God, I have nothing to wear and need to be on the carpet in, fuck, four and a half hours-".

"Baby, please, don't panic", feeling guilty, he tries to reassure her. "It's not black tie. We'll sort something, okay?".

"And hey, I don't have mine either", he tries to reassure her.

"You have a wardrobe full of suits!", she scoffs.

Okay, fair point. Hearing her rummaging hurriedly through clothes hangers, he's pretty sure he's already lost her to wardrobe panic. "We'll be there soon, alright? Love you".

"Mmm-hmm... So much. See you soon". Huh? Maybe she can multitask.

>

The traffic's fairly light for early afternoon on a Saturday, and they make good time.

Pulling up the drive, they see Rosie, struggling to juggle a wriggling Jack and her huge baby bag in one arm, whilst rummaging in the boot of her car.

Harry jumps out to help, jogging over to greet her and take Jack and the bag so she can sort through the heap of loose clothing.