Ella Harper - Pieces of You.

AVON

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London SE1 9GF

www.harpercollins.co.uk

First Published in Great Britain by HarperCollins Publishers 2014

Copyright © Ella Harper 2014

Cover photograph © Natalie Spencer

Cover design © Andrew Cunning 2014

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

A catalogue record for 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: 9780007581108

Ebook Edition © August 2014 ISBN: 9780007581115

Version: 2015-12-15

This one goes to my excellent friends … you know who you are.

Table of Contents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Chapter One: Lucy and Luke

Chapter Two: Lucy

Chapter Three: Patricia

Chapter Four: Lucy

Chapter Five: Nell

Chapter Six: Lucy

Chapter Seven: Patricia

Chapter Eight: Nell

Chapter Nine: Lucy

Chapter Ten: Lucy and Luke

Chapter Eleven: Nell

Chapter Twelve: Lucy

Chapter Thirteen: Patricia

Chapter Fourteen: Lucy and Luke

Chapter Fifteen: Nell

Chapter Sixteen: Lucy

Chapter Seventeen: Lucy and Luke

Chapter Eighteen: Patricia

Chapter Nineteen: Lucy and Luke

Chapter Twenty: Nell

Chapter Twenty-One: Lucy

Chapter Twenty-Two: Patricia

Chapter Twenty-Three: Lucy and Luke

Chapter Twenty-Four: Nell

Chapter Twenty-Five: Lucy

Chapter Twenty-Six: Lucy and Luke

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Patricia

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Lucy and Luke

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Nell

Chapter Thirty: Lucy

Chapter Thirty-One: Patricia

Chapter Thirty-Two: Lucy and Luke

Chapter Thirty-Three: Nell

Chapter Thirty-Four: Lucy

Chapter Thirty-Five: Patricia

Chapter Thirty-Six: Lucy and Luke

Chapter Thirty-Seven: Nell

Chapter Thirty-Eight: Patricia

Chapter Thirty-Nine: Lucy

Chapter Forty: Nell

Chapter Forty-One: Lucy

Chapter Forty-Two: Patricia

Chapter Forty-Three: Lucy

Chapter Forty-Four: Luke

Chapter Forty-Five: Nell

Chapter Forty-Six: Patricia

Chapter Forty-Seven: Lucy

Reading Group Questions for PIECES OF YOU

Acknowledgements

About the Author

About the Publisher

February

‘What are we doing here, Harte?’

If I sounded impatient, it was because I felt it. I’d been standing outside Luke’s hospital for about fifteen minutes and my toes were beginning to seize up. It was one of those crisp, frosty mornings where pavements and branches of trees looked as though demented elves had gone crazy sprinkling sugar all over them; pretty enough, but also bloody freezing.

‘Just hang on a bit longer,’ Luke frowned, checking his watch. ‘What time do you have?’

‘It’s nine-fifteen and your mother is going to be cross if I’m late for work.’ I grabbed his wrist, pulling at the battered metal strap of his watch. ‘I know you love this thing, but seriously, it has terrible time-keeping issues.’

‘I know, I know. But it’s my dad’s … you know I can’t take it off. It’s the law.’ Luke straightened. ‘Ah, here’s the person I’ve been waiting for.’

I sunk my chin deeper into the warmth of my scarf and blew on my hands as a pretty girl approached us. She was smiling and proffering a wrapped package. I felt a flicker of intrigue, but chilliness prevented me from displaying too much interest.

The girl stopped in front of Luke. ‘Luke Harte? Sorry I’m late. Here it is.’

‘Great! Thank you; you’re a life saver.’ Luke handed over an envelope which the girl pocketed. He looked ridiculously pleased with himself, in fact. ‘God, I love it when a plan comes together.’

‘What sort of plan?’

He touched my nose. ‘Don’t look so suspicious. It’s Valentine’s Day! You know that, right?’

‘I’m aware.’

I sounded prim, but there was a reason for that. I had Valentine’s Day wrapped up and sorted. I had ordered in some lovely food rather than trusting my own cooking, (for very good reasons, I hasten to add), I had wine, I had candles and I had vague ideas about a massage-type thing for Luke at the end of the night.

‘So go with it, okay?’ Luke’s eyes met mine and I could tell he was indulging me. The man knew me well.

‘Now I know we usually save things until later, but I’ve been tracking this gift down for you. It’s a good ‘un, even if I say so myself. Are you going to open it? I can’t wait to see your face.’ He thrust the package into my hands.

‘No pressure then,’ I smiled, dropping my eyes. ‘I know you and your surprise gifts. They’re usually amazing and then I worry that I’ve only, you know … thought of dinner with candlelight.’

Luke waved a hand. ‘That’s all I want, so you’re spot on … can’t wait. Open it, go on.’

I turned the package over in my hands. Was it chocolates? No, Luke wouldn’t be so obvious. Nor would chocolates require personal hand-delivery. Was it a book? I peeled back a section of wrapping paper. Books were the perfect gift for me; I adore them. Perhaps it was another copy of Wuthering Heights – I collected them; the older the better. Old novels with illustrations and dedications written in the front pages in fountain pen, scratchy, illegible marks steeped with meaning.

I tore the rest of the wrapping off, discovering a hardback with a torn, tarnished sleeve – or wrapper, as they used to be called. A Book of Delights , I read. ‘How lovely. Er. What is it, exactly?’

Luke opened the book. ‘It’s an anthology of poetry and quotes and stuff. Romantic things.’ He flipped the pages. ‘I mean, it’s probably mostly pretentious rubbish, but apparently there are a few really nice poems in there.’

‘You old romantic, you.’ I was impressed.

‘That’s not even the best bit,’ Luke said.

I flicked my eyes over him. The man was practically preening.

‘There’s an inscription at the front … read it. This is absolutely the best bit.’

I found it. It read: To my darling wife, with all my love, Luke. 14th Feb, 1954 . ‘1954? What the—? I don’t understand …’

‘Some other Luke wrote in the book all those years ago.’ Luke was practically beside himself at this point. ‘The other Luke wrote that to the wife he loved. Isn’t that amazing? I’ve had someone on the case trawling through old books for ages, looking at inscriptions. I was hoping for a ‘To Lucy,’ but this one appeared and I just knew it was perfect.’