Remember Me?

Chapter 9

Fi is one of the most straightforward people I know. We met at the age of six, when I was the new girl in the school playground. She was already a head taller than me, her dark hair in bunches, her voice booming and confident. She told me my plastic skipping rope was rubbish and loudly listed all its faults. Then, just as I was about to start crying, she offered me hers to play with.

That’s Fi. She can upset people with her bluntness, and she knows it. When she’s said the wrong thing she rolls her eyes and claps a hand over her mouth. But underneath it all, she’s warmhearted and kind. And she’s great in meetings. When other people waffle on, she gets right to the point, no bullshit.

It was Fi who gave me the idea of applying to Deller Carpets. She’d been working there for two years when Frenshaws, the company I was at before, got taken over by a Spanish company and a bunch of us were laid off. There was an opening in the Flooring department, and Fi suggested I bring my CV in to show Gavin, her boss…and that was it. I had a job.

Since working together, Fi and I have become even closer. We have lunch together, we go to the cinema on the weekend, we send text messages to each other while Gavin is trying to give one of his “team bollockings,” as he calls them. I’m close to Carolyn and Debs too-but Fi’s the one I ring up first with news; the one I think of when something funny happens.

Which is why it’s so weird that she hasn’t been in touch. I’ve texted her several more times since I got out of hospital. I’ve left two messages on voice mail. I’ve sent a few jokey e-mails and even written a card thanking her for the flowers. But I haven’t heard a word back. Maybe she’s just busy, I keep telling myself. Or she’s been on some work residential seminar thing, or she’s got the flu… There’s a million good reasons.

Anyway, I’m going in to work today, so I’ll see her. And everyone.

I stare at myself in the huge mirror in my dressing room. 2004-Lexi used to show up at the office in a pair of black trousers from Next, a shirt from the bargain bin at New Look, and a pair of loafers with chewed-up heels.

Not anymore. I’m in the crispest shirt I’ve ever worn in my life, all expensive Prada double cuffs. I’m wearing a black suit with a pencil skirt and a nipped-in waist. My legs are gleaming in Charnos sheer gloss tights. My shoes are patent and spiky. My hair is blow-dried and twisted up into my signature chignon. I look like an illustration from a child’s picture book. Boss Lady.

Eric comes into the room and I do a twirl.

“How do I look?”

“Great!” He nods, but doesn’t seem surprised at my appearance. I suppose to him this kind of outfit is normal. Whereas I can’t imagine this ever feeling like anything other than dressing up.

“All set?”

“I guess!” I pick up my bag-a black Bottega Veneta tote I found in the cupboard.

I tried asking Eric about Fi yesterday-but he barely seemed to know who she was, even though she’s my oldest friend and was at our wedding and everything. The only friend of mine he seems to know about is Rosalie, which is because she’s married to Clive.

Anyway, it’s fine. I’ll see Fi today, and there’ll be some explanation, and everything will fall back into place. I expect we’ll all go out for a drink at lunchtime and have a good old catch-up.

“Now, don’t forget this!” Eric is opening a cupboard in the corner. He retrieves a sleek black briefcase and hands it to me. “I gave it to you when we were married.”

“Wow, this is beautiful!” It’s made of buttery-soft calfskin and on the front are discreetly embossed initials: L.G.

“I know you still use your maiden name for work,” says Eric, “but I wanted you to take a little piece of me to the office with you every day.”

He is so romantic. He is so perfect.

“I must go. The car will be here to pick you up in five minutes. Have a good time.” He kisses me and heads out.

As I hear the front door close I pick up my briefcase and look at it, wondering what to put in it. I’ve never used a briefcase before-I always just shoved everything into my bag. Eventually I take a packet of tissues and some Polos out of my bag and put them into the briefcase. Then I add a pen. I feel like I’m packing for my first day at a new school. As I’m sliding the pen into a silk pocket, my fingers bump against something thin, like a card, and I pull it out.

It’s not a card; it’s an old photo of me, Fi, Debs, and Carolyn. Before I had my hair done. When my teeth were still all snaggly. We’re in a bar, all dressed up in glittery tops with rosy cheeks and party-popper streamers over our heads. Fi has her arm clenched around my neck and I have a cocktail umbrella in my teeth, and we’re all in hysterics. I can’t help grinning at the sight.

I remember that evening really well. Debs had chucked her awful banker boyfriend, Mitchell, and we were on a mission to help her forget. Halfway through the evening, when Mitchell called Debs’s mobile, Carolyn answered and pretended to be a £1,000 Russian call girl who thought she was being booked. Carolyn took Russian in school, so she was quite convincing, and Mitchell got genuinely rattled, no matter what he claimed later. We were all listening on speakerphone and I thought I’d die of laughter.

Still smiling, I slide the photo back into the pocket and snap the briefcase shut. I pick it up and regard myself in the mirror. Boss Lady Goes to Work.

“Hi,” I say to my reflection, trying to adopt a businesslike tone. “Hi, there. Lexi Smart, Director of Flooring. Yup, hi. I’m the boss.”

Oh God. I don’t feel like a boss. Maybe I’ll snap back into it when I get there.

Deller Carpets is the company everyone remembers from the TV ads back in the eighties. The first one showed a woman lying on some blue swirling patterned carpet in a shop, pretending it was so soft and luxurious she immediately had to have sex on it with the nerdy sales assistant. Then there was the follow-up ad where she married the nerdy assistant and had the whole aisle carpeted in flowery Deller carpet. And then they had twins, who couldn’t sleep unless they had blue and pink Deller carpet in their cribs.

They were pretty tacky ads, but they did make Deller Carpets a household name. Which is part of its trouble. The company tried to change its name a few years ago, to just Deller. There was a new logo and mission statement and everything. But nobody took any notice of that. You say you work at Deller and people frown and then they say, “You mean Deller Carpets?”

It’s even more ironic because carpet is only a fraction of the company these days. About ten years ago the maintenance department started producing a carpet cleaner that was sold by mail order and became incredibly popular. They expanded into all sorts of cleaning products and gadgets, and now the mail-order business is huge. So are soft furnishings and fabrics. But poor old carpets have fallen by the wayside. Trouble is, they’re not cool these days. It’s all slate and laminate wood flooring. We do sell laminate flooring-but hardly anyone realizes we do, because they think we’re still called Deller Carpets. It’s like one big vicious circle that all leads back to shag.

I know carpets aren’t cool. And I know patterned carpets are even less cool. But secretly, I really love them. Especially all the old retro designs from the seventies. I’ve got an old pattern book on my desk, which I always flick through when I’m in the middle of a long, tedious phone conversation. And once I found a whole box of old samples at the warehouse. No one wanted them, so I took them back to the office and pinned them up on the wall next to my desk.

That’s to say, my old desk. I guess I’ve been upgraded now. As I head toward the familiar building on Victoria Palace Road, I feel a fizz of anticipation in my stomach. It’s the same as it ever was: a tall, pale gray block with granite pillars at the entrance. I push open the glass doors to reception-and stop in surprise. The foyer is different. It looks really cool! They’ve moved the desk, and there are glass partitions where there used to be a wall…and the flooring is blue metallic-effect vinyl. There must be a new range out.

“Lexi!” A plump woman in a pink shirt and tapered black trousers is bustling toward me. She has highlights and fuchsia lipstick and pumps and she’s called…I know her…head of human resources…

“Dana.” I gasp the name in relief. “Hi.”

“Lexi.” She holds out a hand to shake mine. “Welcome back! You poor thing! We were all so upset to hear what happened…”

“I’m fine, thanks. A lot better.” I follow her over the shiny vinyl floor, take a security pass from her, and swipe my way through the security entrance. This is all new too. We didn’t use to have barriers, just a guard called Reg.

“Good! Well, come this way…” Dana’s ushering me along. “I thought we could have a short chat in my office, pop in on the budget meeting, and then you’ll want to see your department!”

“Great! Good idea.”

My department. I used to just have a desk and a stapler.

We travel up in the lift and get out at the second floor, and Dana ushers me into her office.

“Take a seat.” She pulls out a plushy chair and sits down at her desk. “So now, obviously, we need to talk about your…condition.” She lowers her voice discreetly as though I have some embarrassing ailment. “You have amnesia.”

“That’s right. Apart from that, I’m pretty much okay.”

“Good!” She scribbles something on her pad of paper. “And is this amnesia permanent or temporary?”

“Well…the doctors said I might start remembering things at any time.”

“Marvelous!” Her face brightens. “Obviously, from our point of view it would be great if you could remember everything by the twenty-first. That’s when our sales conference is,” she adds, giving me an expectant look.

“Right,” I say after a pause. “I’ll do my best.”

“You can’t do better than that!” She trills with laughter and pushes back her chair. “Now, let’s go and say hello to Simon and the others. You remember Simon Johnson, the MD?”

“Of course!”

How could I not remember the boss of the whole company? I remember him giving a speech at the Christmas party. I remember him appearing in our office and asking our names while Gavin, our department head then, followed him around like a lackey. And now I go to meetings with him!

Trying to conceal my nerves, I follow Dana down the corridor and up in the lift again to the eighth floor. She leads me briskly to the boardroom, knocks on the heavy door, and pushes it open.

“Sorry to interrupt! Only Lexi’s popped in for a visit.”

“Lexi! Our superstar!” Simon Johnson stands up from his seat at the head of the table. He has a tall, broad-shouldered, ex-army-officer frame and thinning brown hair. He comes over, clasps my hand as if we’re old friends, and kisses my cheek. “How are you feeling, my dear?”

Simon Johnson just kissed me. The MD of the whole company kissed me.

“Er…fine, thanks!” I try to keep my composure. “Much better.”

I glance around the room, taking in a whole bunch of other high-powered company people in suits. Byron, who used to be my direct boss, is sitting on the other side of the conference table. He’s pale and lanky with dark hair, and wearing one of his trademark retro-print ties. He gives me a pinched smile and I grin back, relieved to recognize someone else.

“You had quite a knock to the head, we understand,” Simon Johnson is saying in his mellifluous public-school voice.

“That’s right.”

“Well, hurry back!” he exclaims with mock urgency. “Byron here is standing in for you very well.” He gestures at Byron. “But whether you can trust him to safeguard your department’s budget…”

“I don’t know.” I raise my eyebrows. “Should I be worried?”

There’s an appreciative laugh around the table, and I notice Byron shooting me daggers.

Honestly. I was only making a joke.

“Seriously, though, Lexi. I need to talk to you about our recent…discussions.” Simon Johnson gives me a meaningful nod. “We’ll have lunch when you get back properly.”

“Absolutely.” I match his confidential tone, even though I have no idea what he’s talking about.

“Simon.” Dana steps forward, lowering her voice a smidgen. “The doctors don’t know whether Lexi’s amnesia is permanent or temporary. So she may have some problems with memory…”

“Probably an advantage, in this business,” says a balding man opposite, and there’s another chuckle around the table.

“Lexi, I have every confidence in you,” Simon Johnson says firmly. He turns to a red-haired guy sitting nearby. “Daniel, you two haven’t met yet, have you? Daniel is our new finance controller. Daniel, you might have seen Lexi on television?”

“That’s right!” I can see recognition dawning on the guy’s face as we shake hands. “So you’re the whiz kid I’ve heard about.”

Whiz kid?

“Er…I don’t think so,” I say uncertainly, and there’s a laugh.

“Don’t be modest!” Simon gives me a warm smile, then turns to Daniel. “This young woman has had the most meteoric rise through this company. From associate junior sales manager to director of her department within eighteen months. As I’ve said many times to Lexi herself, it was a gamble, giving her the job-but I’ve never regretted taking that risk for a moment. She’s a natural leader. She’s inspirational. She puts in twenty-four hours a day; she has some exciting strategic visions for the future… This is a very, very talented member of the company.”

As he finishes, Simon is beaming at me; so are the balding guy and a couple of the others.

I’m in a state of total shock. My face is puce; my legs are wobbling. No one’s ever spoken about me like that. Ever, my whole life.

“Well…thanks!” I stutter at last.

“Lexi.” Simon gestures at an empty chair. “Can we tempt you to stay for the budget meeting?”

“Er…” I glance at Dana for help.

“She’s not staying long today, Simon,” says Dana. “We’re popping down to Flooring now.”

“Of course.” He nods. “Well, you’re missing a treat. Everyone loves a budget meeting.” His eyes crinkle with humor.

“Don’t you realize I did this to avoid the budget meeting?” I gesture at the last remaining graze on my head and there’s another huge laugh around the room.

“See you soon, Lexi,” Simon says. “Look after yourself.”

As Dana and I leave the boardroom I’m light-headed with exhilaration. I can’t quite believe all that just happened. I bantered with Simon Johnson. I’m a whiz kid! I have strategic visions of the future!

I just hope I wrote them down somewhere.

“So, you remember where the Flooring department is?” Dana says as we descend again in the lift. “I know everyone’s eager to see you.”

“Me too!” I say with growing confidence. We head out of the lift and Dana’s phone gives a little chirrup. “Oh dear!” she says as she glances at it. “I should take this. Do you want to pop along to your office and I’ll see you in there?”

“Absolutely!” I stride down the corridor. It looks just the same as it ever did, with the same brown carpet and fire notices and plastic plants. The Flooring department is just along, to the left. And to the right is Gavin’s office.

I mean my office.

My own private office.

I stand outside the door for a moment, psyching myself to go in. I still can’t quite believe it’s my office. My job.

Come on. There’s nothing to be scared of. I can do this job, Simon Johnson said so. As I reach for the door handle, I see a girl of about twenty darting out of the main office. Her hands go to her mouth.

“Oh!” she says. “Lexi! You’re back!”

“Yes.” I peer uncertainly at her. “You’ll have to forgive me. I’ve had this accident; my memory’s gone…”

“Yeah, they said.” She looks nervous. “I’m Clare. Your assistant?”

“Oh hi! Nice to meet you! So I’m in here?” I jerk my head toward Gavin’s door.

“That’s right. Can I bring you a cup of coffee?”

“Yes, please!” I try to hide my delight. “That would be great.”

I have an assistant who brings me cups of coffee. I have really, really made it. I step into the office and let the door close behind me with a satisfying clunk.

Wow. I’d forgotten how big this room was. It has a sweeping desk and a plant and a sofa…and everything. I put my briefcase down on the desk and walk over to the window. I even have a view! Of another tall building, admittedly-but still, it’s mine! I’m the boss! I can’t help laughing in euphoria as I swing around and jump onto the sofa. I bounce up and down a few times, then stop abruptly as there’s a knocking on the door.

Shit. If someone walked in right now and saw me…Catching my breath, I hurry over to the desk, pick up a random piece of paper, and start perusing it with a businesslike frown.

“Come in!”

“Lexi!” Dana bustles in. “Are you making yourself at home again? Clare told me you didn’t even recognize her! This is going to be tricky for you, isn’t it? I hadn’t quite appreciated…” She shakes her head, her brow creased. “So you don’t remember anything?”

“Well…no,” I admit. “But I’m sure it’ll all come back to me, sooner or later.”

“Let’s hope you’re right!” She still looks anxious. “Now, let’s go through to the department, reacquaint yourself with everybody…”

We head out-and I suddenly see Fi coming out of the Flooring office, in a short black skirt with boots and a green sleeveless top. She looks different from the way I remember her, with a new red streak in her hair and a thinner face, somehow. But it’s her. She’s even wearing the same set of tortoiseshell bangles she always used to.

“Fi!” I exclaim in excitement, almost dropping my bag. “Oh my God! It’s me, Lexi! Hi! I’m back!”

Fi visibly starts. She turns, and for a few seconds she just gapes at me as if I’m a lunatic. I suppose I did sound a bit overexcited. But I’m just so thrilled to see her.

“Hi, Lexi,” she says at last, eyeing my face. “How’re you doing?”

“I’m fine!” I say, my words tumbling out eagerly. “How are you? You look great! I love your new hair!”

Everyone’s staring at me now.

“Anyway”-I force myself to sound more composed-“maybe we can catch up properly later? With the others?”

“Uh-yeah.” Fi nods without looking me in the eye.

Why is she being so off? What’s wrong? Coldness clenches me around the chest. Maybe that’s why she never replied to any of my messages. We’ve had some huge row. And the others took her side. And I just don’t remember…

“After you, Lexi!” Dana ushers me into the main, open-plan office. Fifteen faces look up at us and I try not to gasp.

This is so weird.

I can see Carolyn, and Debs, and Melanie, and several others I know. They all look familiar…but three years on. Their hair and makeup and clothes all look different. Debs has super-toned arms and is tanned as though she’s just got back from some exotic holiday; Carolyn’s wearing new rimless glasses and her hair’s cropped even shorter than before…

There’s my desk. A girl with bleached hair in braids is sitting at it, looking totally at home.

“You all know that Lexi has been ill following her accident,” Dana is announcing to the room. “We’re delighted that she’s back with us today for a visit. She’s suffered a few side effects from her injuries, in particular amnesia. But I’m sure you’ll all help her to remember her way around and give her a big welcome back.” She turns to me and murmurs, “Lexi, do you want to say a few motivational words to the department?”

“Motivational words?” I echo uncertainly.

“Just something inspiring.” Dana beams. “Rally the troops.” Her phone chirrups again. “I’m sorry. Excuse me!” She hurries out to the corridor and I’m left alone, facing my department.

Come on. Simon Johnson says I’m a natural leader. I can do this.

“Um…hi, everyone!” I give a small wave around the office, which no one returns. “I just wanted to say that I’ll be back soon, and…um…keep up the good work…” I flounder for something motivational. “Who’s the best department in the company? We are! Who rocks? Flooring!” I give the air a little punch, like a cheerleader. “F! L! O! R!”

“There should be another O,” interrupts a girl I don’t recognize. She’s standing with her arms folded, looking totally unimpressed.

“Sorry?” I stop, breathless.

“There’s a double O in flooring.” She rolls her eyes. Two girls next to her are giggling into their hands, while Carolyn and Debs are just gaping at me.

“Right,” I say, flustered. “Anyway…well done, everybody…you’ve all done a great job…”

“So are you back now, Lexi?” demands a girl in red.

“Not exactly-”

“Only I need my expenses form signed, urgently.”

“Me too!” say about six people.

“Have you spoken to Simon about our targets?” Melanie is coming forward, frowning. “Only they’re totally unworkable as they are…”

“What’s happening about the new computers?”

“Did you read my e-mail?”

“Have we sorted the Thorne Group order?”

Suddenly everyone in the room seems to be swarming toward me, asking questions. I can hardly follow any of them, let alone know what they mean.

“I don’t know!” I’m saying desperately. “I’m sorry, I can’t remember…I’ll see you later!”

Breathing hard, I back out across the corridor and into my own office and slam the door.

Shit. What was all that about?

There’s a knock at the door. “Hello?” I call out, my voice sounding strangled.

“Hi!” says Clare, coming in under a vast pile of letters and documents. “Sorry to bother you, Lexi, but while you’re here, could you just have a quick run-through of these? You need to get back to Tony Dukes from Biltons and authorize the payment to Sixpack and sign these waivers, and some guy called Jeremy Northpool has rung several times, says he hopes you can resume discussions…”

She’s holding out a pen. She’s expecting me to spring into action.

“I can’t authorize anything,” I say in panic. “I can’t sign anything. I’ve never heard of Tony Dukes. I don’t remember any of this stuff!”

“Oh.” Clare’s pile of papers drops slightly as she surveys me, wide-eyed. “Well…who’s going to run the department? Byron?”

“No! I mean…me. It’s my job. I’ll do it. I just need a bit of time…Look, leave all that with me.” I try to pull myself together. “I’ll have a read-through. Maybe it’ll come back to me.”

“Okay,” Clare says, clearly relieved. She dumps the pile of papers on the desk. “I’ll just bring your coffee through.”

My head spinning, I sit down at the desk and pick up the first letter. It’s all about some ongoing complaint. “As you will be aware…expect your immediate response…”

I turn to the next document. It’s a monthly budget forecast for all the departments in the company. There are six graphs and a Post-it on which someone has scribbled: “Could I get your views, Lexi?”

“Your coffee…” Clare taps on the door.

“Ah yes,” I say, summoning a bosslike tone. “Thank you, Clare.” As she puts down the cup I nod at the graphs. “Very interesting. I’ll…formulate my response to them later.”

The minute she’s gone I drop my head down on the desk in despair. What am I going to do? This job is really hard. I mean…it’s really, really hard.

How on earth do I do it? How do I know what to say and what decisions to make? There’s yet another knocking at the door and I hastily sit bolt upright, grabbing a bit of paper at random.

“Everything all right, Lexi?” It’s Byron, holding a bottle of water and a sheaf of papers. He leans against the door frame, his bony wrists protruding from his white shirt. Around one of them is an outsize high-tech watch, which I’m sure cost a lot, but it looks ridiculous.

“Fine! Great! I thought you were in the budget meeting.”

“We’ve broken for lunch.”

He has this sarcastic, drawling way of speaking, as though you’re a total moron. Truth be told, I never got on with Byron. Now his eye is running over the pile of papers on my desk. “Back at it already, I see.”

“Not really.” I smile, but he doesn’t return it.

“Have you decided what to do about Tony Dukes? Because Accounts were on to me yesterday.”

“Well…” I hesitate. “Actually, I don’t quite…I’m not…” I swallow, feeling color sweep through my face. “The thing is, I’ve had amnesia since my accident, and…” I trail off, twisting my fingers into knots.

Byron’s face suddenly snaps in comprehension. “Jesus,” he says after surveying me for a moment. “You don’t know who Tony Dukes is, do you?”

Tony Dukes. Tony Dukes. I rack my brain frantically-but nothing.

“I…um…well…no. But if you could just remind me…”

Byron ignores me. He comes farther into the room, tapping his water bottle against his palm, his forehead creased in an appraising frown.

“Let me get this straight,” he says slowly. “You remember absolutely nothing?”

All my instincts are prickling. He’s like a cat prodding a mouse, working out exactly how weak its prey is…

He wants my job.

As soon as it hits me I feel like a total idiot for not having worked that one out before. Of course he does. I leapfrogged over him. He must totally loathe me underneath that polite, pleasant veneer.

“I don’t remember nothing!” I exclaim quickly, as if the very idea’s ridiculous. “Just…the last three years is a bit of a blank.”

“The last three years?” Byron throws back his head and laughs incredulously. “I’m sorry, Lexi, but you know as well as I do, in this business three years is a lifetime!”

“Well, I’ll soon pick it all up again,” I say, trying to sound robust. “And the doctors said I might remember everything at any time.”

“Or presumably you might not.” He adopts a concerned, sympathetic expression. “That must be a great worry for you, Lexi. That your head will be blank forever.”

I meet his gaze with as much steel as I can muster. Nice try. But you’re not going to freak me out that easily.

“I’m sure I’ll be back to normal very soon,” I say briskly. “Back to work, running the department…I was having a great chat with Simon Johnson earlier,” I throw in for good measure.

“Uh-huh.” He taps the water bottle thoughtfully. “So…what do you want to do about Tony Dukes?”

Fuck. He’s outmaneuvered me. There’s nothing I can say about Tony Dukes, and he knows it. I shuffle the papers on my desk, playing for time.

“Maybe…you could make a decision on that?” I say at last.

“I’d be happy to.” He gives me a patronizing smile. “I’ll take care of everything. You just look after yourself, Lexi. Get yourself better, take as much time as you need. Don’t worry about a thing!”

“Well…thank you.” I force a pleasant tone. “I appreciate it, Byron.”

“So!” Dana appears at the door. “Are you two having a nice chat? Catching up with things, Lexi?”

“Absolutely.” I smile, my teeth gritted. “Byron’s being very helpful.”

“Anything I can do to help…” He spreads his arms in a self-deprecating gesture. “I’m right here. Memory intact!”

“Super!” Dana glances at her watch. “Now, Lexi, I have to shoot off to lunch, but I can see you out if we leave now…”

“Don’t worry, Dana,” I say quickly. “I’ll stay on here a bit longer and read through some paperwork.”

I’m not leaving this building without talking to Fi. No way.

“Okey-doke.” She beams. “Well, lovely to see you, Lexi, and let’s talk on the phone about when you want to return properly.” She does the phone-under-chin gesture and I find myself copying it.

“Talk soon!”

The two of them walk away, and I hear Byron saying, “Dana, may I have a word? We need to discuss this situation. With the greatest respect to Lexi…”

My office door shuts and I tiptoe toward it. I open it a chink and poke my head out.

“…she’s clearly not fit to lead this department…” Byron’s voice is audible as he and Dana turn the corner toward the lifts.

Bastard. He didn’t even bother waiting until he was out of earshot. I head back into my office, slump down at the desk, and bury my head in my hands. All my euphoria has vanished. I have no idea how I ever got this job. I lift a paper at random from the heap in front of me and stare at it. It’s something about insurance premiums. How do I know all this stuff, anyway? When did I learn it? I feel like I’ve woken up clinging to the top of Mount Everest and I don’t even know what a crampon is.

Heaving a huge sigh, I put the sheet down. I need to talk to someone. Fi. I lift the phone receiver and dial 352, which is her extension, unless they’ve changed the system.

“Flooring department, Fiona Roper speaking.”

“Fi, it’s me!” I say. “Lexi. Listen, can we talk?”

“Of course,” Fi says in formal tones. “Do you want me to come in and see you now? Or should I make an appointment with Clare?”

My heart sinks. She sounds so…remote.

“I just meant we could have a chat! Unless you’re busy…”

“Actually, I was about to go to lunch.”

“Well, I’ll come too!” I say eagerly. “Like old times! I could die for a hot chocolate. And does Morellis still do those great paninis?”

“Lexi…”

“Fi, I really need to talk to you, okay?” I clutch the phone tighter. “I…I don’t remember anything. And it’s freaking me out a bit. The whole situation.” I try to laugh. “Just hang on, I’ll be out in a moment…”

I thrust down the receiver and grab a piece of paper. I hesitate, then scrawl, “Please action all these, Byron. Many thanks, Lexi.”

I know I’m playing right into his hands. But right now all I care about is seeing my friends. Seizing my bag and briefcase, I hurry out of my office, past Clare’s desk, and into the main Flooring department.

“Hi, Lexi,” says a nearby girl. “Did you want something?”

“No, it’s okay, thanks, I’m just meeting Fi for lunch…” I trail off. I can’t see Fi anywhere in the office. Or Carolyn. Or Debs.

The girl looks surprised. “I think they’ve already gone to lunch. You only just missed them, though…”

“Oh right.” I try to hide my discomfiture. “Thanks. I expect they meant to meet in the lobby.”

I swivel on my heel, then walk as fast as I can in my spiky shoes along the corridor-just in time to see Debs disappearing into a lift.

“Wait!” I cry out, breaking into a run. “I’m here! Debs!” But the lift doors are already closing.

She heard me. I know she did.

Thoughts are spinning wildly around in my head as I shove open the door to the stairs and clatter down. They knew I was coming. Are they avoiding me? What the fuck has gone on these last three years? We’re friends. Okay, I know I’m boss now…but you can be friends with your boss, can’t you?

Can’t you?

I arrive at the ground floor and almost tumble into the foyer. The first thing I see is Carolyn and Debs heading out the main glass doors, with Fi just in front of them.

“Hi!” I cry out almost desperately. “Wait!” I pelt toward the glass doors and at last catch up with them on the front steps of the building.

“Oh, hi, Lexi.” Fi gives a tiny snort that I know means she’s trying not to laugh.

I suppose I do look a bit incongruous, running along red-faced in my black suit and chignon.

“I thought we were going to have lunch together!” I say, panting. “I told you I was coming!”

There’s silence. No one is meeting my eyes. Debs is twiddling her long silver pendant; her blond hair is lifting in the breeze. Carolyn has taken off her glasses and is polishing them on her white shirt.

“What’s going on?” I try to sound relaxed, but I can hear a throb of hurt in my own voice. “Fi, why didn’t you return any of my messages? Is there some kind of…problem?”

None of them speaks. I can almost see the thought-bubbles traveling between them. But I can’t read the thought-bubbles anymore; I’m out of the loop.

“You guys.” I attempt a smile. “Please. You have to help me out. I have amnesia. I don’t remember. Did we have a…a row or something?”

“No.” Fi shrugs.

“Well, I don’t understand it.” I look around the faces entreatingly. “Last I remember, we were best mates! Going out on a Friday night. We had banana cocktails, Loser Dave stood me up, we did karaoke…remember?”

Fi exhales sharply and raises her eyebrows at Carolyn. “That was a long time ago.”

“So, what’s happened since?”

“Look.” Fi sighs. “Let’s just leave it. You’ve had this accident, you’re ill, we don’t want to upset you.”

“Yes, let’s just all go and get a sandwich together.” Debs glances at Fi as though to say “Humor her.”

“Don’t patronize me!” My voice is sharper than I meant. “Forget about the accident! I’m not an invalid. I’m fine. But I need you to tell me the truth.” I look around the group in desperation. “If we didn’t have a row, what’s wrong? What happened?”

“Lexi, nothing happened.” Fi sounds awkward. “It’s just…we don’t really hang out with you anymore. We’re not mates.”

“But why not?” My heart is thudding, but I’m trying to stay calm. “Is it because I’m the boss now?”

“It’s not because you’re the boss. That wouldn’t matter if you were-” Fi breaks off. She shoves her hands in her pockets, not meeting my eye. “If I’m honest, it’s because you’re a bit of a…”

“What?” I’m looking from face to face in bewilderment. “Tell me!”

Fi shrugs. “Snotty cow.”

“Total bitch-boss-from-hell, more like,” mutters Carolyn.

The air seems to freeze solid in my lungs. Bitch-boss-from-hell? Me?

“I…I don’t understand,” I stammer at last. “Aren’t I a good boss?”

“Oh, you’re great.” Carolyn’s voice drips with sarcasm. “You penalize us if we’re late. You time our lunch hours. You do spot checks on our expenses… Oh, it’s a bundle off un in Flooring!”

My cheeks are throbbing as though she’d hit me.

“But I would never…That’s not what I’m like-”

Carolyn cuts me off. “Yeah. It is.”

“Lexi, you asked.” Fi is rolling her eyes, like she always does when she’s uncomfortable. “That’s why we don’t hang out anymore. You do your thing and we do ours.”

“I can’t be a bitch,” I manage at last, my voice trembling. “I can’t be. I’m your friend! Lexi! We have fun together, we go out dancing together, we get pissed…” Tears are pricking my eyes. I look around the faces I know so well-yet kind of don’t-trying desperately to spark a chord of recognition. “I’m me! Lexi. Snaggletooth. Remember me?”

Fi and Carolyn exchange looks.

“Lexi…” Fi says almost gently. “You’re our boss. We do what you say. But we don’t have lunch. And we don’t go out.” She hefts her bag on her shoulder, then sighs. “Look, come along today if you want to…”

“No,” I say, stung. “It’s okay, thanks.” And with shaky legs I turn and walk away.