Golden Luckenbooth

Forty-Two

I watch Harry's eyes deaden, and his jaw clench. He's beaten. We all know it. There's no real way out of this. Taking a deep breath, I rest my hand on my belly, hoping the interview doesn't devolve into a disaster.

Don't hit him, Harry. Please don't hit him.

"That beautiful veterinarian is indeed the mother of my future child," he confirms, "and I'd like everyone to respect our privacy in this matter. She continues to do her job, and I'm quite proud of the work she does, including the work with that bull terrier in the video."

His words make my heart feel warm and cosy. He's a good egg.

A young woman named Morag (daughter of the Boyle sheep farming family) carefully holds a cage containing her pet gerbil. She startles at the comment, her eyes darting between my belly and the telly.

Ha! That rhymes! Perhaps Harry will hire me to help write his next album?

Stern raises an eyebrow over his glasses, and I wonder if Harry has caught him off guard by acknowledging my existence.

My eyes wander over Harry's face on the screen, and I recall a previous interview for his first album where he was so flummoxed he looked to his manager. But my boyfriend has come a long way since then, and he doesn't even flinch. His eyes never stray from the interviewer, and there's no evidence that he's upset or bothered by the question. His voice doesn't waver, but it's not harsh either.

The phone in my pocket starts buzzing, and I do my best to ignore it.

"So what happened there, Harry? You fell in love with the red-haired vixen? Is that what happened? What were you doing in Scotland anyway? Is that where you met? Or is she one of your fans who follows you on tour? Cause, I gotta tell you, I'd be all over those women if I were you. Does she like to play doctor with you?"

"As I said, Howard, I've promised to protect her privacy, so I won't be answering any questions about my relationship with her. Would you like to talk about the album?"

Bzz.

Bzz.

Bzz. Bzz. Bzz.

Removing my phone from my pocket, I turn on the Do Not Disturb feature. Whoever is texting or calling can wait. My anxiety has risen with the interview.

It's never been my desire to be publicly known as Harry's girlfriend, and I certainly never asked to be acknowledged this way.

Like a snake slithering on silk, Stern moves on to the proffered topic. "Yes! You said it was going to be out soon – coinciding with another important event. We're all excited to hear it. Any songs about your baby?"

Harry maintains his composure. "I wrote the album with my friends Tyler and Tom during the last few months of the tour, and we recorded it shortly after tour ended. Being away from my family for so long reminded me how much they mean to me, so I wrote songs about my mum, my sister, and those friends who are like family to me. In fact, one of the songs is about Tyler and Tom which always makes me laugh since they helped produce it. Would you like to hear that one next?"

I sit up, my back ramrod straight. He's going to share a second song with this wanker? Before he shares it with me? Hell, no. He better not.

"I thought you were going to do a cover," Stern remarks, and I can tell Harry has drawn the interviewer's attention away from me.

Probably only temporarily.

But I'll take the win.

"We rehearsed a cover. We'd love to play it for you."