Remember Me?

It’s got a thong, I realize to my horror. My bum will look massive. I can’t wear this.

But I don’t have anything else. Reluctantly I pull it on, then edge out of the cubicle, hands over my eyes. This could be really, really gross. I count to five, then force myself to take a peek.

Actually…I don’t look too bad. I remove my hands completely and stare at myself. I look all long and lean and…different. Experimentally I flex my arm-and a biceps muscle I’ve never seen before pops up. I stare at it in astonishment.

“So!” Rosalie bustles up to me, dressed in leggings and a crop top. “This way…” She ushers me into a large, airy exercise studio, where rows of well-groomed women are already in position on yoga mats.

“Sorry we’re late,” she says momentously, looking around the room. “But Lexi has got amnesia. She doesn’t remember anything. About any of you.”

I get the feeling Rosalie is enjoying this.

“Hi.” I do a shy wave around the room.

“I heard about your accident, Lexi.” The exercise teacher is coming over wearing a sympathetic smile. She’s a slim woman with cropped blond hair and a headset. “Please take it easy today. Sit out whenever you like. We’re starting with some mat work…”

“Okay. Thanks.”

“We’re trying to trigger her memory,” Rosalie chimes in. “So everyone just act normal.”

As all the others raise their arms, I nervously take a mat and sit down. Gym has never exactly been my strong point. I guess I’ll just follow as best I can. I stretch my legs out in front of me and reach for my toes, although there’s no way I’ll ever be able to-

Bloody hell. I can touch my toes. In fact, I can put my head right down on my knees. What’s happened to me?

In disbelief I follow the next maneuver-and I can do that one too! I’m bendy! My body is moving into each position as if it can remember everything perfectly, even if I can’t.

“And now, for those that are up to it,” the teacher is saying, “the advanced dancer position…”

Cautiously I start tugging on my ankle-and it obeys me! I’m pulling my leg right above my head! I feel like yelling “Look at me, everyone!”

“Don’t overdo it, Lexi.” The teacher looks alarmed. “Maybe take it easy now. I’d leave out splits this week.”

No way. I can do splits?

Afterward in the changing room I’m exhilarated. I sit in front of the mirror, drying my hair, watching as it turns from damp mouse back to shiny glowing chestnut. “I can’t get over it,” I keep saying to Rosalie. “I was always so crap at exercise!”

“Sweetie, you’re a natural!” Rosalie is slathering body lotion all over herself. “You’re the best in the class.”

I switch off the hair dryer, pull my hands through my dry hair, and survey my reflection. For the millionth time, my gaze is drawn to my gleaming white teeth-and my full pink lips. My mouth never looked like that in 2004-I know it didn’t.

“Rosalie.” I lower my voice. “Can I ask you a…a personal question?”

“Of course!” Rosalie whispers back.

“Did I ever have anything done? To my face? Like Botox? Or”-I lower my voice still further, hardly able to believe I’m saying this-“surgery?”

“Sweetie!” Rosalie looks appalled. “Shh!” She puts her finger to her lips.

“But…”

“Shh! Of course we haven’t had anything done! All totally, one-hundred-percent natural.” She winks.

What does that wink mean?

“Rosalie, you have to tell me what I’ve had done…” I trail off suddenly, distracted by my reflection in the mirror. Without noticing what I’ve been doing, I’ve been taking hairpins from the jar in front of me and putting my hair up on autopilot. In about thirty seconds, I’ve constructed the most perfect chignon.

How the fuck did I do that?

As I survey my own hands I can feel slight hysteria rising inside me. What else can I do? Defuse a bomb? Assassinate someone with one blow of my hand?

“What is it?” Rosalie catches my gaze.

“I just put my hair up.” I gesture at the mirror. “Look. It’s incredible. I’ve never done that before in my life.”

“Yes, you have.” She looks puzzled. “You wear it like that for work every day.”

“But I don’t remember. It’s like…it’s like Superwoman’s taken over my body or something. I can walk in heels, I can put my hair up, I can do splits… I’m like this überwoman! It’s not me.”

“Sweetie, it is you.” Rosalie squeezes my arm. “You better get used to it!”

We have lunch in the juice bar and chat with a couple of girls who seem to know me, and then Rosalie drives me home. As we travel up in the lift I’m suddenly exhausted.

“So!” Rosalie says as we enter the apartment. “Do you want to have another look at your clothes? Maybe swim-wear!”

“Actually, I feel pretty wiped out,” I say apologetically. “Do you mind if I go and have a rest?”

“Of course not!” She pats my arm. “I’ll wait out here for you, make sure you’re okay…”

“Don’t be silly.” I smile. “I’ll be fine until Eric comes home, really. And…thanks, Rosalie. You’ve been so kind.”

“Darling girl.” She gives me a hug and picks up her bag. “I’ll give you a call. Look after yourself!” She’s halfway out the door when something occurs to me.

“Rosalie!” I call. “What should I make Eric for di

She turns and gazes at me uncomprehendingly. I suppose it is quite a strange question, out of the blue.

“I just thought you might know what sort of thing he likes.” I laugh awkwardly.

“Sweetie…” Rosalie blinks several times. “Sweetie, you don’t make the di

“Oh, right. Of course!” I nod hastily, trying to look like I knew that all along.

But bloody hell. This really is a different life. I’ve never even had a cleaner before, let alone a five-star-hotel-type housekeeper.

“Well, I guess I’ll go to bed, then,” I say. “Bye.”

Rosalie blows me a kiss and closes the door behind her, and I head into the bedroom, which is all cream and luxurious dark wood, with a massive suede-upholstered bed. Eric has insisted that I take the main bedroom, which is very kind and noble of him. Mind you, the spare room is pretty sumptuous too; in fact, I think he gets his own Jacuzzi, so he can’t complain.

I kick off my heels, climb under the duvet, and feel myself instantly relax. This is the most comfortable bed I have ever been in, ever. I wriggle around a bit, luxuriating in the smooth sheets and perfect squashy pillows. Mmm, that’s good. I’ll just close my eyes and have a tiny kip…

I wake to a dim light and the sound of chinking crockery.

“Darling?” comes a voice from outside the door. “Are you awake?”

“Oh.” I struggle to a sitting position and rub my eyes. “Er…hi.”

The door opens and in comes Eric, holding a tray and a shopping bag.

“You’ve been asleep for hours. I’ve brought you some supper.” He heads toward the bed, puts down the tray, and switches on the bedside light. “It’s Thai chicken soup.”

“I love Thai chicken soup!” I say in delight. “Thanks!”

Eric smiles and hands me a spoon. “Rosalie told me you two girls went to the gym today.”

“Yes. It was great.” I take a spoonful of soup and it’s absolutely delicious. God, I’m ravenous. “Eric, you couldn’t get me a piece of bread, could you?” I raise my head. “Just to mop this up?”

“Bread?” Eric frowns, looking puzzled. “Darling, we don’t keep bread in the house. We’re both low-carb.”

Oh, right. I’d forgotten about the low-carb thing.

“No problem!” I smile at him and take another mouthful of soup. I can be low-carb. Easy.

“Which brings me to my little gift,” says Eric. “Or in fact…two gifts. This is the first one…”