Free Remember Me? by Sophie Kinsella

about twenty arrangements on there. Tied bouquets…orchids in pots…grand-looking roses…
    “So…is one of these mine?” I can’t help asking.
    Nicole looks surprised. “All of them.”
    “
All
of them?” I splutter, almost spilling my tea.
    “You’re a popular girl! We’ve run out of vases!” She hands me a stack of little cards. “Here are your messages.”
    “Wow.” I take the first card and read it.

    Lexi—darling girl. Look after yourself,
get well, see you very soon, all my love.
    Rosalie.

    Rosalie? I don’t know anyone called Rosalie. Bemused, I put it aside for later and read the next one.

    Best wishes and get well soon.
    Tim and Suki.

    I don’t know Tim and Suki, either.

    Lexi, get well soon! You’ll soon be back to three hundred reps! From all your friends at the gym.

    Three hundred reps? Me?
    Well, I guess that would account for the muscled legs. I reach for the next card—and at last, it’s from people I actually know.

    Get well soon, Lexi. All best wishes from Fi,
    Debs, Carolyn, and everyone in Flooring.

    As I read the familiar names, I feel a warm glow inside. It’s stupid, but I almost thought my friends had forgotten all about me.
    Nicole interrupts my thoughts. “So your husband’s quite a stunner!”
    “D’you think so?” I try to appear nonchalant. “Yeah, he is quite nice-looking, I suppose….”
    “He’s amazing! And you know, he came around the ward yesterday, thanking us all again for looking after you. Not many people do that.”
    “I’ve never been out with a guy like Eric in my life!” I abandon all pretense at being nonchalant. “To be honest, I still can’t believe he’s my husband. I mean,
me
. And him.”
    There’s a knock on the door and Nicole calls, “Come in!”
    It opens and in come Mum and Amy, both looking hot and sweaty, lugging between them about six shopping bags stuffed with photograph albums and envelopes.
    “Good morning!” Nicole smiles as she holds the door open. “Lexi’s feeling a lot better today, you’ll be glad to hear.”
    “Oh,
don’t
tell me she’s remembered everything!” Mum’s face drops. “After we’ve carried all these pictures all this way. Do you know how heavy photograph albums are? And we couldn’t find a space in the car park—”
    Nicole cuts her off. “She’s still experiencing severe memory loss.”
    “Thank goodness for that!” Mum suddenly notices Nicole’s expression. “I mean…Lexi, darling, we’ve brought some pictures to show you. Maybe they’ll trigger your memory.”
    I eye the bag of photos, suddenly excited. These pictures will tell my missing story. They’ll show me my transformation from Snaggletooth to…whoever I am now. “Fire away!” I put down all the flower messages and sit up. “Show me my life!”

    I’m learning a lot from this hospital stay. And one thing I’ve learned is, if you have a relative with amnesia and want to trigger her memory,
just show her any old picture—it doesn’t matter which one
. It’s ten minutes later, but I haven’t seen a single photo yet, because Mum and Amy keep arguing about where to start.
    “We don’t want to
overwhelm
her,” Mum keeps saying as they both root through a bag of pictures. “Now, here we are.” She picks up a photo in a cardboard frame.
    “No
way.
” Amy grabs it from her. “I’ve got a zit on my chin. I look gross.”
    “Amy, it’s a tiny pimple. You can hardly see it.”
    “Yes, you can. And this one is even grosser!” She starts ripping both photographs into shreds.
    Here I am, waiting to learn all about my long-lost life, and Amy’s destroying the evidence?
    “I won’t look at your zits!” I call over. “Just show me a picture! Anything!”
    “All right.” Mum advances toward the bed, holding an unframed print. “I’ll hold it up, Lexi. Just look at the image carefully and see if it jogs anything. Ready?” Mum turns the print around.
    It’s a picture of a dog dressed up as Santa