I’d hate it, a fair assumption, me being king of the workshy, but I didn’t. They were a great bunch, it was a buzzing atmosphere and there were people there who had a real passion for putting ingredients together, constantly trying to make recipes better for Calvers. I started to enjoy going there every morning, even stayed behind later at nights, went in weekends sometimes. In fact, I was there so much, Bridge thought I was having an affair, which caused more rows. But the only affair I was having was with myself. I don’t know what happened to me there but I discovered something – a place I fitted. I was infected with enthusiasm. But it wasn’t enough. I wanted to work for myself and not anyone else, but I couldn’t think how. Then Bridge dragged me along to an office dinner event and all the people who had picked the vegetarian option were moaning how awful it was. Bridge said something to me on the lines of how much untapped potential there was in the vegetarian food market… and it was like a bomb going off in my head. I skived off the job the next day to go around supermarkets and buy bags and bags of vegetarian food that we couldn’t afford for essential research purposes. We were in so much debt at the time too, hence why she threw the broccoli at me and, along with it, the insult, Plant Boy.’
‘You’re lucky it was just broccoli.’
‘I’m not sure we had any crockery left at that point. Anyway, I turned from being the world’s laziest knob into a man possessed. I knew Plant Boy was going to be big, don’t ask me how but I had a feeling I couldn’t shake. And round about this time Bridge found out that she couldn’t have kids. She’d had an op in her teens that went wrong but she’d never known how much it had damaged her inside. She was absolutely desperate for a child and it broke her heart that she’d never be able to carry one.’
‘Did you think about adoption?’
‘Bridge didn’t want to go down that route. She needed the whole pregnancy thing from fertilised egg to giving birth; she wanted to bake the bun herself, make sure the baby was nourished and loved and safe from the off. I suppose it was because of her past, though I didn’t really understand that back then – insensitive twat that I was – but now I do. One of many things I’ve learned in the past few years…’ His voice tailed off, as if he was snagged in a net of regret. ‘I didn’t want kids, I didn’t want the responsibility. Bridge went for tests without telling me anything about it and when she got the results she had a full-on meltdown. I wasn’t there for her.’ He’d never quite forgiven his former selfish self for that.
‘And do you feel any different now you’re with your new partner?’ asked Jack.
‘Yes,’ said Luke. ‘It couldn’t be more different.’
Jack couldn’t see it, but he could feel the heat of Luke’s smile in the dark.
* * *
‘I couldn’t have children because I had a botched abortion when I was fourteen that totally knackered my insides.’
Mary’s hand flew to her mouth. ‘Oh, Bridge, that’s terrible. I don’t know what to say…’
‘Nothing you can say, Mary. Luke didn’t want kids anyway. Ironic really because I think he’d have made a fab father. He’d have stepped up to the mark, I know he would have. A child would have saved us. I know it’s the wrong reason for having one, before you say anything, but in a parallel universe somewhere is a happy Bridge with a child, still married to a Luke who decided to pull his finger out for his family and made Plant Boy happen from love, not hate. There was so much hate in our relationship towards the end. It was like the flipside of our coin, because we loved each other so much in the beginning. I’d have done anything for him. Anything.’
* * *
‘Plant Boy started off with just one product: broccoli burgers. I got them right. They were good, really good, and I was selling loads to vegetarian restaurants in the area, then countrywide,’ said Luke. ‘My pal was a journo and did a piece on how successful I was and how a supermarket giant had been in touch, total smoke and lies. Then the buyer of a supermarket