Telephone Lines

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"Hi, thanks for getting back to me so quickly." I had absolutely no idea what to say.

"It's no problem at all. As you can imagine the management team here aren't exactly used to receiving emails from people claiming to have mothered Harry Styles' child." Claiming. He obviously didn't believe me.

"Right, of course." My voice was flat. I heard footsteps and looked up to find Elenore on the other side of the room, her eyes twinkling with anticipation.

"Now, I'm sure you can understand when I ask this, but are you sure?" He emphasised the ending as if he was hoping I would suddenly change my mind and decide that it had all been a joke or a dare my friends had set me up to do. Part of me wished it had been either of those things.

"Of course I'm sure," I snapped. "You just have to look at her for confirmation." Maybe I should have attached the photo after all.

"Ok, so they look alike. There are lots of young men out there who resemble Harry in some way or another." Richard Griffiths was clearly getting impatient and so was I.

"Are you insinuating that I've slept around, sir?" It felt as though my blood was boiling. How dare he just assume that I'd been sleeping with the 'plenty of young men' that apparently looked like Harry Styles. "It was definitely Harry, unless of course any of those young men have giant butterfly tattoos on their chests and four nipples?" Elenore snorted with laughter and collapsed into an armchair.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean for it come across in that way. You have to realise that I have my client's best interests at heart and don't wish to see them being messed around. Information on Harry's appearance and anatomy is easily googled though."

"Look," I sighed, rubbing my forehand with my freehand. "I don't think you understand how much courage it took for me to send that email. I am simply asking for Harry to be aware that his little girl exists and should he want any involvement in her life, then he is welcome. I am not asking for fame or for his money. I have raised Nola by myself without either of those things and I can do it again. I would just appreciate you relaying this information to Harry."

Richard coughed uncomfortably. "I think the best thing to do would be to send someone out to meet you and your daughter and perhaps undergo a paternity test."

"To have a paternity test you're going to have to tell Harry anyway!" I exclaimed, rolling my eyes at Elenore who was gesturing rudely to the phone.  

"There are ways around causing a drama," he said matter of factly. "The band's tour is coming up and will have to have a medical examination in the next few days to ensure they are in good health first. We can take a blood sample from Harry then without delving into all this."

I hated how he spoke of Harry's child as if she was nothing but a nuisance. Richard Griffith's arrogance really made me consider giving up on this clearly hopeless idea. I should have never listened to Elenore or sent that bloody email.

"Should the results indicate that Harry is in fact your daughter's father, then we will organise for him to get in contact with you," Richard continued. "These are serious allegations, Miss Owens; we have to follow the correct procedure. Harry Styles is a very busy young man."  

"Fine." I said eventually. "But how soon can you send someone to see us?"

"Well, tomorrow morning if it's convenient for yourself." I gulped. Tomorrow morning? So soon?

"Um, yes. Of course. That'll be fine. Who exactly will be coming?" I scanned the flat, my eyes zooming in on any rubbish, clutter or general mess. Was this one of those visits where you were supposed to provide tea and biscuits?

"Someone from the team here and someone to take a blood sample from your daughter, providing you consent."

I didn't like the idea of Nola's blood being taken unless it regarded her health; however it seemed to be the only way to allow her father into her life. I wondered how Harry would have felt if he'd already known. Would he have consented?

"Yes, that's fine." Elenore was up on her feet again, miming to get my attention. I turned the other way.

"In which case someone will see you tomorrow, Miss Owens. Have a good rest of your day." The call ended and I gulped. Clearly Richard Griffiths wasn't at all impressed that one of his star money makers was potentially involved in a one night stand baby scandal. I couldn't help wondering that he wouldn't tell me even if the test showed Harry to be Nola's father. Which he was.

"Stop ignoring me and tell me what they said!" Elenore huffed, crossing the room and poking me in the back.

"Well, they don't believe me of course," I collapsed into one of the dining chairs. "Someone is coming tomorrow to take Nola's blood for a paternity test."

"But why?" Elenore's eyes widened. "She is basically a miniature version of him."

"Yes but they don't know that do they? They are just following procedure I suppose. There's no other way." The baby monitor on the table began to project the sound of blankets rustling.

"Well at least you've got the ball rolling," Elenore rubbed my shoulder. "When that test shows up as a 100% match, you'll have a baby daddy and I'll have a date with Niall Horan."

"Hilarious. How very self absorbed of you!" I laughed, removing myself from the table and heading for my bedroom where Nola was stood up in the cot.

"Mumma!" She whined, reaching for me. I hooked my hands under her armpits and hoisted her up and over into my arms. She stared at me as if expecting me to make some big announcement. 

"Not yet, Nola." I changed her on my bed. "But we have got visitors tomorrow so you'll have to be a very good girl and not grumpy like you were for mummy this morning." I grabbed the comb on my bedside table and began pulling it through her curls.

She giggled and curled into my arms. 


a/n: I love and hate Elenore's character. She's so much fun to write but I think I would murder her if she was my best friend (for Niall's sake ofc)

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