I Remember You

by Harriet Evans

  ‘I know, and it’s great,’ Adam said. ‘Always really loved coming to see you there. But just—I always remember running for the tube and it taking ages, and everything. Always took ages to get anywhere in London.’

  ‘It doesn’t—’ Tess was going to embark on a long repudiation of this, until she realized that she was supposed to agree with him, now. It was two minutes to the Feathers in Langford from her house. ‘Well,’ she said, into the momentary silence, ‘you’re right, staying at Claridge’s is definitely going to cut our journey time home. We can stay out as long as we want.’

  Adam raised two fingers to the barmaid. ‘Two more shots, please.’

  ‘No way,’ said Tess.

  ‘Come on,’ said Adam, who was definitely enjoying a second wind. ‘We’re in London, baby! It’s my birthday! We’re staying at the coolest hotel in the world!’

  ‘Yeah,’ said Tess, scrunching up her face. ‘We’re young, free and single, and ready to mingle!’

  ‘Yeah, that too!’ said Adam. The drinks arrived, and he clinked his new shot against hers.

  ‘Cheers,’ Tess said. ‘Here’s to the Ringer.’

  ‘Yep—Tess, thanks,’ Adam said, serious for a moment. ‘I didn’t think it was going to be like this but—it’s fun, isn’t it?’

  ‘It’s always fun, being with you,’ Tess told him honestly, and their eyes met fleetingly, and they were silent, amidst the hubbub of the pub. Someone brushed past them; it was as if something changed then.

  Adam drew a deep breath. ‘Well, you know how I feel about that,’ he said, and his voice was hoarse.

  He looked directly at her. Tess looked at him, and it was as if they were the only people in that crowded, hot room. ‘Can I ask you something?’ he said.

  After a second, she nodded, her heart hammering.

  ‘What was the Dealbreaker with Will?’ he said. ‘Can you tell me now?’

  Tess groaned, relief coursing through her. ‘It’s embarrassing.’ She cleared her throat, leaning towards him. ‘Only if you tell me what the Dealbreaker with Liz was.’

  ‘OK,’ he said, blinking heavily, and she knew he was slightly drunk. ‘Man, this is evil of you. OK.’ He exhaled, and lowered his voice. ‘Well…she cried.’

  ‘She cried?’

  ‘After we’d—’ Adam looked around, to see who was close to them and whether they were listening. ‘After we’d had sex. Well, during, really.’

  ‘Oh,’ said Tess. ‘Like, properly?’

  ‘Yep,’ said Adam, sombrely. ‘It was awful. Tears streaming down her face. I thought there was something wrong, so I—er, stopped, and she started crying even more, and begging me to carry on so I started again but—’ he rubbed the back of his neck—‘it kind of kills the mood. Someone like, sobbing—and not in a good way. While you’re trying to…’

  ‘Bang them,’ Tess said promptly. ‘Blimey, did she say why?’

  ‘She said she always did it, especially if she was feeling a bit emotional,’ said Adam. ‘That’s why—sort of why I didn’t call her again.’

  ‘You know what?’ Tess told him. ‘That’s fair enough.’ He nodded gratefully.

  ‘What about you?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Come on, Tess,’ Adam said. ‘You know. What was it with you and Will? What was the Dealbreaker?’

  She hesitated, then looked frankly at him. ‘Well—’ she began. ‘He—’

  ‘Hej!!’ someone yelled behind them, and pushed them to one side, and a band of enthusiastic Swedes, wearing blue and yellow, burst into the tiny room. One of them, a man, breaking free, grabbed Adam by the arms, pulling him away from Tess. ‘Hej, my friend!’ he said. ‘Good evening! We won!’

  ‘That’s great. Won what?’ said Adam, stepping back, still staring at Tess, but smiling.

  ‘Yes! Thank you!’ the man told him, squeezing his shoulders and sliding past them to the bar, where he merged into an amorphous blob of blue and yellow once more, and shouts of ‘Skol! ‘ rang out.

  The two friends, pushed apart, stood looking at each other, and then, as if acknowledging it was ridiculous, it was all ridiculous, they laughed, each mirroring the other.

  ‘Londontown,’ Adam said, shrugging his shoulders. He held up his drink again and she touched her glass to his, her adrenalin subsiding. Tess felt heavy with something. Was she drunk? What was happening? Or rather, why wasn’t she more surprised? But the moment passed, though things had already changed, into a succession of drinks, of hilarious conversation with excited Swedes—who, it turned out, had won a big football match that afternoon, against Russia—some singing, led by one of the old men in a pork-pie hat, and then being almost bodily turfed out of the pub by the increasingly enraged barmaid.

  They walked slowly through Soho in the warm May evening, till they got to Kingly Street. Tess didn’t want to get back to the hotel. She wanted to delay the moment; she didn’t know why, only that she knew something was in the air, and that this evening would soon be over. And she didn’t want it to be.

  They stopped under the Liberty stone bridge.

  ‘Do you know where you’re going?’ said Adam, looking up and around him. ‘I don’t know where the hell we are.’

  ‘This is Liberty,’ said Tess, a little sadly. ‘It’s my favourite shop.’ She gazed up, into the black leaded windows which stared blindly onto the dark street.

  ‘Is it?’ said Adam. ‘Why?’

  Tess had always loved Liberty, because of the fabrics, and the clothes, and the jewellery, and the Art Deco coolness of it all. But there was one reason above all.

  ‘The staircase,’ she said. ‘It’s carved wood and there’s a little frog between the first and second floors.’

  On their first anniversary, Will had bought her a necklace from there. It was a huge, heavy, show-stopping thing, in cut glass and ribbons, and though she could rarely wear it, she loved it. She swallowed at the thought.

  Adam laughed softly as she said this. ‘A frog, really?’ He gazed down at her. ‘T, what’s wrong?’

  ‘Nothing,’ Tess said, brushing away a tear. ‘Just Will. He bought me something here. Stupid idiot.’ She hated herself for crying like this; why, when she hadn’t thought of Will for weeks?

  ‘Oh, darling,’ Adam said, his low voice so kind, so comforting. ‘Don’t cry.’ He put his arms around her. ‘Please don’t. He’s not worth it. He’s an idiot. Trust me.’

  ‘I know,’ Tess said, wishing she could just stay like this, her head on his shoulder, his arms around hers.

  ‘Why are you still letting him get to you?’ His voice was muffled in her hair.

  She wasn’t, really. It was the image of herself he’d left her with. ‘What I really hate him for is—’ She swallowed. It was so hard to say, to tell the truth.

  ‘Come on,’ he prompted gently. He rubbed her back and she knew, remembered she could tell him everything and anything, ignored the warning bell that was sounding…

  ‘I hate him, because he made me feel so unattractive,’ she said in a small voice.

  ‘What do you mean?’ Adam stood back. He leaned over her, his dark eyes glittering in the dark street. ‘He was horrible to you?’

  ‘I was trying to tell you earlier. That was the Dealbreaker. For him. He—’ Tess knotted her fingers together and looked down, at the black street. ‘He didn’t want me. After a few months, he—we didn’t—argh.’ She winced. ‘I don’t want to say.’

  ‘It’s me,’ Adam said. ‘Come on. You can tell me anything.’

  She looked into his eyes and knew it was true. He nodded, encouraging. She said, quietly, ‘I thought he wasn’t into sex. That perhaps it was just what happened to people, you know. We stopped—’ She looked up, imploring him to understand. ‘I tried—I tried these awful, embarrassing things to get him to want me. Oh, God. And then—now, he’s with that—that blonde sex-toy on a stick and I—I’m this cardigan-wearing troll and I feel—I feel…’

  Emotion flooded over her, emotion and alcohol fu
mes, and she began to cry. Adam put his finger under her chin, gently.

  ‘You’re beautiful,’ he said. ‘You always have been.’ He kissed her cheek, where a tear was rolling down her skin. ‘Don’t cry, Tess,’ he murmured. ‘I hate it when you cry.’

  She raised her face to his, a question on her lips. He closed his eyes slowly, then opened them. Their faces were millimetres apart. She could feel his breath on her lips, her eyelashes almost touching his skin as she stared at him, at the face she knew so well. She didn’t recognize him all of a sudden: she blinked, slowly, closed her eyes and parted her lips.

  And he kissed her. His hand pushed her hair away from her face, the way it always used to; she felt his fingers on her scalp, on her skin. His lips on hers, his chest pressed against hers suddenly, as she put her arms around him, under the bridge in the quiet street, and kissed him back.

  ‘I knew that was going to happen,’ he said, when he eventually broke away from her. He put his hand on her shoulder, his thumb on her neck. ‘This evening, Tess, didn’t you?’

  That was the thing—she’d forgotten she didn’t have to change herself for him, to moderate anything. ‘Yes,’ she said simply. She reached up, and kissed him again.

  ‘I didn’t plan it like this, though,’ Adam said. ‘I mean—’

  ‘Getting dumped by Francesca so you could come up to town without her,’ said Tess, and then she wished she hadn’t.

  But he said mildly, ‘That’s weird—that seems a million miles away, now.’

  Langford seemed a million miles away too, Tess thought, as Adam took her hand. ‘You know which way to go, don’t you?’ he said, as she crossed Regent Street and led him into Mayfair.

  Neither of them knew what was going to happen when they got to Claridge’s, but it didn’t matter then, there. They walked past the Art Deco Vogue House, into Brook Street.

  ‘It’s quiet, isn’t it?’ Adam said, clutching her hand. ‘It’s Saturday night, you’d think it’d be busier.’

  ‘I know,’ said Tess. ‘It’s like it’s just you and me.’

  ‘Sometimes I think it’s always just been you and me,’ Adam said. He stopped, and turned to her.

  ‘It has,’ said Tess. She said quietly, ‘But Adam—us knowing each other so well—that’s not a reason.’

  ‘Don’t you think so?’ He looked at her curiously. ‘Ah, I think it is. We know each other so well, we knew this was going to happen, we just needed to get out of Langford for it to happen.’

  ‘That’s what you said before,’ she told him, putting her hand gently on his cheek. ‘All those years ago, and—’

  ‘It was different then, we were babies,’ he said, almost impatiently. ‘We’re grown-up now.’

  ‘Are we?’

  ‘Yes, we are,’ he said, bending over and kissing her again. ‘Being here—in London—’ he squeezed her hand and raised it, to encompass the street, the blinking lights of New Bond Street, the quiet of Hanover Square—‘I don’t see you as my oldest friend, that girl I grew up with, who I had that summer fling with years ago, who only wears muddy boots and teaches Jan and Diana the Classics.’ He smiled, pulling her towards him. ‘You’re the girl who’s the funniest person I know, who I can tell anything to, who’s real, not fake, who’s so beautiful and she doesn’t know it.’ He ran a finger down her cheek. ‘I can be myself with you, you can be yourself with me.’

  That summer fling.

  She bit her lip, she didn’t know what to say. They walked for a little while, in silence, past great grey townhouses and wrought-iron railings. She felt as if she were in a film, in a dream.

  ‘What if I don’t know who I am, though,’ she said, smiling weakly. ‘If I don’t know how to be myself any more?’

  ‘I know,’ he said seriously. ‘I know you. But it’s completely new. I know you.’ He kissed her again. ‘And I want you. Tess—don’t you want me too?’

  That was how Adam had persuaded her the first time, all those years ago, in the meadows, after his mother had died. The first time—her first time. She had cried over him for six months, when she realized it was just a summer thing, a way to ease the pain he was feeling that could never really be eased. Of course she wanted him; she always wanted him, his intoxicating smile, his ready laughter, his low voice, his dark eyes, his kind heart—but he didn’t know her the way he thought he did, because he didn’t know just how much he’d hurt her, how he’d rejected her. Adam still thought she was his old, jolly friend, albeit with a nice new haircut, and how could he say that when she didn’t know who she was, what she was doing?

  They were still walking, they were almost at the hotel. But then, as if confounding her fears, he stopped and said, ‘This doesn’t have to be a big deal, Tess. But you know I want you.’

  ‘Me too,’ she said.

  ‘So—let’s just have fun tonight. Don’t worry about it.’ He breathed out, slowly, watching her tensely, as though he was worried he’d gone too far, and she remembered how good it was to be with him, how much she did want him, how she’d hidden that away. Just for one night…just once more…

  ‘Yes,’ she said, almost urgently. He gripped her hand, and she broke free from his grasp, putting her hands on his face, and kissing him, enjoying him, remembering how good he felt. ‘OK, you’re right.’ She smiled. ‘We’re grown-ups now, after all, aren’t we?’

  ‘Damn right,’ Adam said, matching her smile, and they ran up the steps of Claridge’s, into the cool, elegant lobby, as the night porter smiled at them indulgently. He probably thinks we’ve been together for ages, Tess thought. Perhaps he’s wondering if tonight’s our anniversary.

  Perhaps he’s not wondering anything at all.

  ‘We’ve booked a room,’ Adam told the concierge behind the desk. ‘Adam Smith, one night.’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ said the concierge, tapping furiously. ‘Let me just see if there are any messages—’

  Tess tensed for a moment; fear gripped her, she didn’t know why. Adam’s warm fingers squeezed hers as they held hands. The phone rang and the concierge, distracted, picked up the keys, and then picked up the phone. ‘Hold, please,’ he said brusquely. He leaned forward.

  ‘That’s all fine,’ he said, and Tess relaxed again. ‘Room three three eight. Thank you, sir.’ He went back to the call and they were alone again, the only other people in the lobby, and it was quiet, but a comforting, reassuring quiet. They smiled at each other like schoolchildren.

  In the lift, they sat side by side on the tiny, elegant sofa, holding hands, almost formally, and then Adam leaned over once more and kissed her softly on the lips.

  ‘This is a wonderful night,’ he said. ‘Darling Tess.’

  She smiled at him, her heart swelling with joy.

  The doors opened; Adam looked up, and turned to the left. Down the corridor, their feet silent on the plush soft carpet, they walked, until they reached room 338. Tess was nervous suddenly; the perfection of it all, the suddenness too. But, as if he knew, Adam rubbed her back as he fumbled for the key, and the slight touch of his hand calmed her down and she felt a lifting of her mood, a clearing of the clouds. She was here, he was here, it was amazing. They laughed as he struggled with the lock.

  ‘We must look like crazy people, with just these little bags,’ Tess said. ‘Everyone else with Louis Vuitton cases for weeks and then us.’

  ‘There’s no one else to see us,’ said Adam. ‘It’s just you and me, remember?’

  She smiled at him, her hair falling in her face, and he pushed it back and kissed her again as the key turned in the lock and they almost fell into the room.

  ‘Adam?’

  In the darkness, a voice.

  ‘Adam, darling?’

  There was a rustling sound, as they stood in the doorway, frozen, and then a bedside lamp came on, throwing a soft glow across the room, and revealed Francessa, on the bed in a fluffy towelling robe, her hair glowing in the gloom, her face flushed with sleep. She blinked at them.

  ‘Hi�
�Tess?’

  ‘Hi,’ said Tess, mechanically. ‘What are you—’

  Adam’s voice cut across hers. ‘Francesca, what are you doing here?’

  Francesca curled a strand of hair around her finger. She looked at Adam, and said slowly, ‘I made a massive mistake, darling.’ She rubbed her eyes and knelt up on the bed. ‘I’m sorry. I got the train up a couple of hours ago. I wanted to tell you, I’m sorry.’

  ‘Francesca—’

  There was a catch in her voice. ‘Can you forgive me?’

  Adam pulled away from the door towards Francesca. He stared at her; suddenly, Tess didn’t know what he was thinking. All she knew was, she had to get out of there. Waves of something—of shame, guilt, emotion, love, attraction—were washing over her, but for now there was nothing to be done. Let’s just have fun tonight. It was the same as always, nothing had changed. Her mind started clicking into gear, flipping over possibilities. She felt for her jacket. Was the key to Meena’s still in there? Yes, it was.

  At least this time she’d got out before she’d gone in too deep. It would have been a disaster, sleeping with Adam. She cleared her throat.

  ‘Look—’ she began. ‘I’ll take off, then.’

  ‘No,’ said Adam, turning towards her. ‘T—’

  Francesca watched them both, blinking, as if she were waking up little by little. Any moment now, and she would start to wonder…Tess shoved her hands into her pockets. ‘I’ll get a cab to Meena’s outside,’ she told Adam firmly.

  ‘But it’s miles away.’

  ‘It’s not,’ she said, trying to sound patronizingly sure of herself, when he was right, it was miles away, but she was glad it was miles away, the more distance the better. ‘I can’t stay here.’

  ‘Yes, you can,’ Adam said. Francesca cleared her throat.

  ‘Adam,’ Tess said, under her breath, trying to keep her voice steady. ‘What are we going to do, share a bed, the three of us? That’s just weird.’

  Adam shook his head. ‘I’ll go to Meena’s. You stay here, with Francesca. I don’t want you—’ His hands dropped to his sides, helplessly. He had no claim over her, and he knew it.