tomatoes, for God’s sake.’
‘It clearly meant a lot to you, though.’
‘Because Luke and I have a long-shared history.’
‘Yes, well.’ Mary shrugged, she wasn’t convinced.
‘House of Quill stationery is stupidly expensive. Don’t you think that he might have given it to you because it’s an indicator of how he sees you: someone of quality and worth coveting?’
‘No,’ replied Mary, flatly. ‘I think it’s an indicator that he sees me as an old young fuddy-duddy. Useful yet boring. He’s never been that great at Christmas presents if I’m honest.’
‘Oh?’ said Bridge, wanting more.
‘The first year I became his PA, I got some hand cream and a giant bottle of old lady perfume. Then the next year a talcum powder gift set and fudge. This year, a tartan headscarf, a matching shopping bag and a box of jellied fruits. Presents you give to frumpy aunties, not to women that might cross your mind outside office working hours.’ Mary lobbed a log onto the fire, which told Bridge exactly what she thought about Santa Jack and his bum gifts. Bridge opened her mouth to say something of comfort, realised there was nothing she could offer and just let out a long breath of frustration for Mary instead.
* * *
In the kitchen Jack took a few moments to look through Charlie’s book of wisdom. He wondered if these were his standard mantras or if Charlie could read his mind because they seemed to have been tailor-written for him. The last one particularly hit home.
Don’t expect to get a good woman if you aren’t a good man. Meet the requirements of your requirements.
His list of requirements wasn’t that long – but hypocritical, he realised. He’d wanted to be trusted, without trusting himself. He’d wanted to be appreciated for who he was, not his bank balance, and yet he’d used the trappings of his wealth as a magnet. He’d wanted to be loved, without letting the lock on his heart open in order to love back.
‘Penny for them,’ said Luke.
‘Sorry,’ said Jack. ‘I was just looking through Charlie’s present to me. He’s a very sagacious man.’
‘May I?’
Luke put down his peeling knife and took the notebook from Jack’s hand, flicked through it.
‘Be the best version of yourself that you can be.’ He nodded. ‘One of my sayings. I think I am the best version of myself now that I can be. I’m certainly in sync with my expectations of myself.’
‘I’m not,’ said Jack.
‘Meet the requirements of your requirements,’ Luke read aloud. ‘Yep, he’s right again. Oh boy, is he.’ He laughed then, as if he were sharing a private joke with himself. He turned the page. ‘Yep, he’s right about the comfort zones too. I like this very much. Ships are safe in harbours but that’s not why ships are built. Oh yes, praise be.’ He handed the book back to Jack. ‘We didn’t talk much about your business last night, did we? It was all opera singer stuff.’
‘Pardon?’ said Jack, bemused.
‘Mi-mi-mi-mi-mi-mi,’ trilled Luke, as if he was tuning up to perform ‘Nessun Dorma’. ‘Sorry, couldn’t resist. Anyway, tell me, what was it that drove you to take Butterly’s out of its comfort zone and turn it into such a behemoth, Jack?’ He tossed him a bag of sprouts then for him to prepare.
‘I just saw the potential in expand—’
‘The real reason, Jack. What caused the fire in your belly to burn so fiercely?’
Jack put the book down on a shelf so it wouldn’t get stained and picked up a knife. ‘Not sure really.’ An obvious lie.
‘Okay,’ said Luke, preparing to trade, ‘with me it was getting back at Bridge. I wanted her to not only eat her words, but to throw them up with nauseous jealousy and eat them up again. I wanted to show her what I was made of. There’s a lot of juice in hate, so I thought. Looking back I don’t think it was hate, I think it was pain. That’s what turned the ignition on in me. Now you.’
‘Okay then. My father,’ said Jack. ‘I wanted him to be proud of me. That was my fuel.’ He gave a nervous laugh, scratched the back of his neck before continuing. ‘Sounds pathetic, doesn’t it? A grown man wanting his father to notice him. I never knew what he truly felt about me, you see. For a long time I thought he sent me away to school because he didn’t want me around.’
‘Not at all,’ said Luke. ‘I get it. Ironically your dad’s