Ella Harper - The Years of Loving You

Published by Avon

An imprint of HarperCollins Publishers Ltd

1 London Bridge Street

London SE1 9GF

www.harpercollins.co.uk

First published in Great Britain by HarperCollins 2015

Copyright © Ella Harper 2015

Ella Harper asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

Source ISBN: 9780007581849

Ebook Edition © October 2015 ISBN: 9780007581856

Version: 2015–09–04

This one goes to my excellent friends …

you know who you are.

Yours is the light by which my spirit’s born: you are my sun, my moon, and all my stars.

E.E. Cummings

Table of Contents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Epigraph

Now

Molly and Ed

Now

Ed

Now

Molly and Ed

Now

Molly and Ed

Now

Molly and Ed

Now

Molly and Ed

Molly and Ed

Now

Ed

Now

Ed

Now

Molly

Now

Ed

Now

Molly and Ed

Ed

Now

Molly

Now

Ed

Now

Molly and Ed

Now

Molly and Ed

Now

Molly and Ed

Now

A Conversation with Ella Harper

Acknowledgements

About the Author

By the same author

Keep Reading …

About the Publisher

‘Great party,’ Sam said, shaking Ed’s hand.

‘Thanks. I actually did all this myself. I reckon Saskia is re-thinking our marriage now that she knows I’m actually a girl.’

Ed gestured to the silver and white decorations adorning the walls of their local pub. There were clusters of balloons in each corner, complete with perfectly curled ribbons, there were pretty silver swathes draped between light fittings as well as glitter-dusted white bows dotted here and there. It had taken ages to put everything up and he had almost broken his elbow falling off a bar stool earlier. But Saskia wasn’t really into any of this stuff and, for some reason, Ed had a feeling people were expecting great things. Probably because him getting married was a bit of a turn-up for the books, or whatever the expression was.

‘Blimey.’ Sam raised his eyebrows. ‘I thought you were the blokiest bloke around.’

‘Nope.’ Ed grinned, knowing Sam was probably wetting his pants on the quiet. Imagining Ed festooning balloons around a pub. Hanging bows and streamers everywhere. Emasculating and then some. ‘Seriously, Sam. I’m a bird. No two ways about it. Where’s Molly?’ he asked, before he realised Sam was on the phone.

Ed frowned. He hadn’t exactly been expecting to throw an engagement party, let alone one in the pub he usually frequented with his mates. Sometimes he went there with Saskia, but mostly it was a place Ed used for down time. He wasn’t sure they would ever see him in the same way now that they knew he was behind the bows and glitter.

Not that Ed was bothered. Saskia was happy, which meant that he was happy. He was content to watch Saskia in her element, floating around the pub in a cream silk dress that showed off her tanned legs, laughing and socialising.

Was Saskia a little drunk? Ed thought she might be. Nothing wrong with that, of course. He was a tad drunk himself.

Saskia’s parents were in tow, Ed noted. They were a distinguished-looking couple but they seemed somewhat bewildered to find themselves in a local pub, surrounded by a bunch of people they were mostly unacquainted with.

‘Saskia’s parents seem nice,’ Sam commented, covering the phone with his hand, following Ed’s line of vision.

‘Yes. They’re great, really great.’

Pressing a pint onto Sam and accepting one himself, Ed decided that he wasn’t entirely sure Saskia’s parents approved of him. They had been pleasant enough when he met them, but they hadn’t seemed exactly thrilled about the engagement. Ed wondered if it was his job – or rather, the lack of it – that was causing concern. Being a full-time writer and having the luxury of living off his friend Boyd’s shrewd investments didn’t show him in the best light, he supposed. It wasn’t how he had started out; it was simply the fortuitous way his life had unfolded. But Ed wasn’t overly inclined to sit Harrison and Margot (for those were the names of Saskia’s illustrious parents) down and explain his humble beginnings. Saskia knew some of Ed’s history, but not all of it and Ed thought that was absolutely fine. A partner didn’t need to know everything about a person, did they?

Molly disagreed on this point, Ed recalled, glancing self-consciously at Sam, the way he often did when his thoughts drifted to Molly – as if Sam could read his mind or something daft. Anyway, Molly had questioned him about this once and Ed had defensively justified himself. Molly was a person who felt that couples should be fully open with one another and she saw it as some sort of flaw on Ed’s part that he hadn’t completely opened up to Saskia, some sort of indication perhaps that they weren’t fully connected. Ed suspected that the reason Molly had such strong opinions on this matter was largely down to him. But shame was the perfect foil for candidness. There were just some aspects of life that were better left unsaid, in Ed’s opinion.

He took a look around the pub. He couldn’t deny that it was actually quite a buzz seeing all of their friends gathered together in one place, spilling out into the beer garden. In fact, he didn’t even realise he and Saskia had so many friends between them.

Strange things, weddings, Ed mused, watching Saskia almost tripping over and shrieking with laughter as one of her friends held her up. He had never imagined he would have the remotest interest in the details, or the organisation. But Saskia, who possessed many wondrous qualities, was not the most organised of people. Nor did she seem overly interested in colour schemes and venues. But she was over the moon about the wedding; Ed was certain of that. Her reaction to his impulsive proposal had confirmed that. Ed could remember it in minute detail …

‘Have you really finished the novel?’

‘I think I actually might have finished the novel.’ Ed scrolled down to the page that said ‘THE END’ in overly large letters. ‘Yes, I really have.’

‘Yay!’

Saskia jumped up and punched the air, before going behind him to drape her arms around his chest. ‘I’m so proud of you! This is wonderful. We should celebrate.’

Ed put a hand on Saskia’s waist, luxuriating in the warmth of her body, squashed against his neck and back. Saskia was a very affectionate girl. She was only twenty-eight, but she seemed more mature than her years. She was pretty, rather full-on in the bedroom and nothing much seemed to faze her. She had turned Ed’s house into a home with what he believed were called ‘feminine touches’ and he was very grateful.