Sophie Kinsella - Remember Me?

My legs are so weak with relief, they’re barely holding me up. He’s saved my life.

As he continues talking, I totter back into the bedroom suite and find the blue fish still floating in the loo. I count to three-then plunge my hand in, grab the fish, and, with a shudder, stuff it in my bag. I wash my hands, then head out to see that Eric has taken over from Jon.

“From this adventure you’ll see even more clearly that we at Blue Developments understand you and your concerns better even than you yourselves do,” he’s saying. “You’re not our customers…you’re our partners in a perfect lifestyle.” He lifts up his glass. “Enjoy your tours.”

As he steps aside, a relieved babble of chatter and laughter breaks out. I can see the woman in the white trouser suit grabbing three massive diamond rings back from her husband and pushing them back onto her fingers.

I wait a few minutes, then unobtrusively slip down the stairs. I grab a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and take a deep swig. I am never touching any panels again, ever. Or fish. Or loos.

“Sweetie!” Rosalie’s voice makes me jump. She’s wearing a skimpy beaded dress in turquoise, and high feathered shoes. “Oh my God. Wasn’t that genius? That’ll make a few diary pieces tomorrow. Everyone’s talking about the state-of-the-art security. You know it cost three hundred grand? Just for the system!”

Three hundred grand, and the loo doesn’t even flush.

“Yes,” I say. “Great!”

“Lexi.” Rosalie is giving me a thoughtful look. “Sweetie…can I have a little word? About Jon. I saw you talking to him earlier.”

I feel suddenly apprehensive. Did she see something?

“Oh, right!” I aim for a careless tone. “Yes, well, he’s Eric’s architect, so we just got chatting about the design, as you do…”

“Lexi.” She takes me by the arm and draws me away from the hubbub. “I know you had your bump on the head and everything.” She leans forward. “But do you remember anything about Jon? From your past?”

“Um…not really.”

Rosalie pulls me still nearer. “Sweetie, I’m going to give you a bit of a shock,” she says in a low, breathy voice. “A while ago you told me something in confidence. Girlfriend to girlfriend. I didn’t say a word to Eric…”

I’m transfixed, my fingers frozen around the stem of my champagne flute. Does Rosalie know?

“I know this may seem really hard to believe, but something was going on between you and Jon, behind Eric’s back.”

“You’re joking!” My face is burning. “Like…what, exactly?”

“Well, I’m afraid to say…” Rosalie glances around the room and hustles closer. “Jon kept pestering you. I just thought I should warn you in case he tried it on again.”

For a moment I’m too dumbstruck to reply. Pestering me?

“Wh-what do you mean?” I stammer at last.

“What do you think? He’s tried it on with all of us.” Her nose wrinkles disparagingly.

“You mean…” I can’t quite process this. “You mean he’s tried it on with you too?”

“Oh my God, yes.” She rolls her eyes. “He told me Clive doesn’t understand me. Which is true,” she adds after a moment’s thought. “Clive’s a total dimwit. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to rush off and be a notch on his bedpost, does it? And he went after Margo, too,” she adds, waving merrily at a woman in green across the room. “Such a nerve. He said he knew her better than her own husband and she deserved more, and he could tell she was a sensual woman… All kinds of ridiculous stuff!” She clicks her tongue dismissively. “Margo’s theory is he targets married women and tells them whatever they want to hear. He probably gets some kind of weird kick out of it-” She breaks off as she sees my frozen face. “Sweetie! Don’t worry. He’s like an irritating fly, you just have to swat him away. But he was quite persistent with you. You were, like, the big challenge. You know, being Eric’s wife and everything?” She peers at me. “Don’t you remember any of this?”

Ava walks past us with some guests, and Rosalie beams at them, but I can’t move.

“No,” I say at last. “I don’t remember any of it. So…what did I do?”

“You kept telling him to leave you alone. It was awkward. You didn’t want to wreck his relationship with Eric, you didn’t want to rock the boat… You were very dignified, sweetie. I would have poured a drink over his head!” She suddenly focuses over my shoulder. “Darling, I must just dash and have a word with Clive about our dinner arrangements. He’s booked completely the wrong table, he’s an absolute night- mare…” She breaks off and looks at me again, suddenly anxious. “Are you okay? I just thought I should warn you…”

“No.” I come to. “I’m glad you did.”

“I mean, I know you’d never fall for his bullshit.” She squeezes my arm.

“Of course not!” Somehow I manage to laugh. “Of course I wouldn’t!”

Rosalie trips away into the party, but my feet are rooted to the ground. I’ve never felt so humiliated in my life, so gullible, so vain.

I believed it all. I fell for his blarney.

We’ve been having a secret affair… I know you better than Eric does…

It’s all bullshit. He took advantage of my memory loss. He flattered me, turned my head. And all he wanted was to get me into bed like a…a trophy. I feel hot with mortification. I knew I would never have an affair! I’m not the unfaithful type. I’m just not. I have a decent husband who loves me. And I allowed my head to be swayed. I nearly ruined everything.

Well, not anymore. I know where my priorities are. I take a few deep gulps of champagne. Then I lift my head high, walk forward through the crowd until I find Eric, and slip my arm through his.

“Darling. The party’s going wonderfully. You’re brilliant.”

“I think we’ve pulled it off.” He looks more relaxed than he has all evening. “Narrow escape with that alarm. Trust Jon to save the day. Hey, there he is! Jon!”

I clutch Eric’s arm even more tightly as Jon walks toward us. I can’t even bear to look at him. Eric claps him on the back and hands him a glass of champagne from a nearby tray. “Here’s to you,” he exclaims. “Here’s to Jon.”

“To Jon,” I echo tightly, taking the smallest possible sip of champagne. I’m just going to pretend he doesn’t exist. I’m going to blank him out.

A beep from my bag disturbs my thoughts, and I pull out my phone to see a new message.

From Jon.

I do not believe this. He’s texting me in front of Eric? I quickly press View and the message comes up.

Old Canal House in Islington, any evening from 6. We have so much to talk about.

I love you.

J

PS Delete this message.

PPS What did you do with the fish??

My face is burning with fury. Rosalie’s words ring in my head. You just have to swat him away.

“It’s a text from Amy!” I say to Eric, my voice shrill. “I might just quickly reply…”

Without looking at Jon, I start texting, my fingers charged up with adrenaline.

Yeah. Right. I suppose you thought it was a laugh, taking advantage of the girl who lost her memory. Well, I know your stupid game, okay? I’m a married woman. Leave me alone.

I send the text and put my phone away. A moment later, Jon frowns at his watch and says casually, “Is that the right time? I think I’m fast.” He takes his cell phone out and squints at the display as though checking, but I can see his thumb moving over the keys and I can see him reading the message and I can see his face jerk with shock.

Ha. Got him.

After a few moments, he seems to recover. “I’m six minutes out,” he says, tapping at the phone. “I’ll just change the clock…”