who had been rather unsure about him at the beginning, since he was so unlike her in so many ways, had fallen for his adept flattery, and by Christmas she was head over heels in love with him. For the first year all was wonderful; Will liked the fact that she was a little different from his usual (tall, thin, blonde, posh) girlfriends, and Tess for her part liked the fact that he was a little different from her usual (young, puppy-dog-eager) boyfriends. Their differences were a badge of honour in her eyes: they weren’t each other’s usual type, she told herself, and anyone who’d care to listen, including Adam. That’s what made it work so well—to start with.
‘I’ve asked myself if I knew when it went wrong,’ Tess said. They were walking towards the edge of town, down to the ancient walls. It was mid-afternoon but the sky was getting darker, almost as if night-time was approaching.
‘And what conclusions have you reached?’ said Adam.
She looked sideways up at him, pushing her hair out of her face, as they walked along the windy street. Here, at the edge of town, the breeze was often strongest, whistling through the lanes like a dervish. Tess wished she could tell him the truth. But he, of all people, was not someone she wanted to talk to about it. She gave a little wince, as if she were speaking an unfamiliar language, trying to frame the words correctly.
‘He—’ She shrugged her shoulders. ‘He just went off me, I think. I wasn’t right for him.’
‘Well, it’s also that he wasn’t right for you,’ said Adam, but Tess wasn’t really ready to hear that, she still remembered the Will who stood up when she came back into the room, who was always on time, who sent her flowers to work on a regular basis, who bossed her around, in an amused, rather despairingway, which made her feel like a naughty schoolgirl, instead of the matronly teacher she feared becoming.
‘He wasn’t,’ she said, slowly. ‘But…I thought he was.’
‘Did you have the Dealbreaker, though?’ Adam said.
‘The what?’
‘Come on!’ Adam smiled at her. ‘You remember the Deal-breaker.’
‘My God, do you still use that?’
The Dealbreaker was Adam’s cut-off point, the moment when you knew, he said, by some tiny action, that this woman was never going to be for you—though he insisted Tess apply it to men, too. It was his excuse to be picky, she always thought. It had seen off Cathy (gobbled her food), Laura (pigeon-toed), Alison (never heard of Pol Pot) and Belinda (allegedly, hairy chest). Tess shook her head, wondering at him. Twelve years since she left for university, nine years since she moved permanently to London, and Adam was still working in the same place using the same terminology, pulling with the same frequency. But who was she to judge any more? She’d moved back here, after all, and she no longer had any idea who she was. He at least seemed to know.
‘Sure I do,’ he said. ‘It’s good, I’m telling you. There’s always a Dealbreaker. The fatal flaw. In any relationship, until they’re the One.’
‘There’s always a fatal flaw if you always look for one, Ad,’ Tess said pointedly. ‘So, what was the dealbreaker with Liz?’
‘I’m not telling you,’ said Adam. ‘Though it’s pretty bad.’
She stared at him, curiously. ‘Oh, go on.’
‘No,’ said Adam, and she knew he meant it. ‘What was the Dealbreaker with Will? Come on, there must have been one.’
‘There wasn’t…’ She shook her head.
‘Bollocks, Tess,’ Adam said. ‘Are you seriously telling me there wasn’t? I know there was.’
She said, slowly, ‘God, there really was.’
‘So?’
Tess laughed up at him, her eyes sparkling. ‘Not telling you either.’ He smiled. ‘Not because you won’t, honest. Just ‘cause—it’s—’ She shook her head again. ‘Too embarrassing. Get me drunk and I’ll tell you.’
‘That’s a promise,’ Adam said. ‘So,’ he said, changing the subject.