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Christmas stocking, I reach into the bag and pull out a tangle of gold. There’s an expensive-looking bracelet made of hammered gold, and a matching necklace, plus a watch.
    “Wow. This is nice.” I run my fingers cautiously over the bracelet, then reach in again and retrieve two chandelier earrings. Caught up among the knotted strands of gold is a ring, and after a bit of careful unweaving I manage to untangle it.
    There’s a general intake of breath. Someone whispers, “Oh my God.”
    I’m holding a huge, shiny, diamond solitaire ring. The type you get in movies. The type you see on navy-blue velvet in jewelers’ windows with no price tag. At last I tear my gaze away and see that both nurses are riveted too.
    “Hey!” Nicole suddenly exclaims. “There’s something else. Hold out your hand, Lexi….” She tips up the bag and taps the corner. There’s a moment’s stillness—then out onto my palm falls a plain gold band.
    There’s a kind of rushing in my ears as I stare down at it.
    “You must be married!” Nicole says brightly.
    No. No way. Surely I’d
know
if I was married? Surely I’d sense it deep down, amnesia or no amnesia. I turn the ring over in my clumsy fingers, feeling hot and cold all over.
    “She is.” The second nurse nods. “You are. Don’t you remember, love?”
    I shake my head dumbly.
    “You don’t remember your wedding?” Nicole looks agog. “You don’t remember anything about your husband?”
    “No.” I look up suddenly with horror. “I didn’t marry Loser Dave, did I?”
    “I don’t know!” Nicole gives a giggle and claps her hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry. You just looked so appalled. D’you know what his name is?” She looks at the other nurse, who shakes her head.
    “Sorry. I’ve been on the other ward. But I know there’s a husband.”
    “Look, the ring’s engraved!” Nicole exclaims, taking it from me. “‘A.S. and E.G. June 3, 2005.’ Coming up on their two-year anniversary.” She hands it back. “Is that you?”
    I’m breathing fast. It’s true. It’s carved here in solid gold.
    “I’m A.S.,” I say at last. “
A
for Alexia. But I have no idea who E.G. is.”
    The
E
from my phone, I suddenly realize. That must have been him texting me. My husband.
    “I think I need some cold water….” Feeling giddy, I totter into the bathroom, splash water on my face, then lean forward across the cold enamel basin and stare at my bashed-up, familiar-unfamiliar reflection. I feel like I’m about to have a meltdown. Is someone still playing a gigantic prank on me? Am I hallucinating?
    I’m twenty-eight, I have perfect white teeth, a Louis Vuitton bag, a card saying “director,” and a husband.
    How the hell did all
that
happen?

Chapter 4
    Edward. Ethan. Errol.
    It’s an hour later and I’m still in a state of shock. I keep looking in disbelief at my wedding ring resting on the bedside cabinet. I, Lexi Smart, have a husband. I don’t feel
old
enough to have a husband.
    Elliott. Eamonn. Egbert.
    Please, God, not Egbert.
    I’ve ransacked the Louis Vuitton bag. I’ve looked all the way through the diary. I’ve skimmed through all my stored mobile numbers. But I still haven’t found out what
E
stands for. You’d think I’d remember my own husband’s name. You’d think it would be engraved in my psyche.
    When the door opens, I stiffen, almost expecting it to be him. But it’s Mum again, looking pink and harassed.
    “Those traffic wardens have
no
hearts. I was only twenty minutes at the vet, and—”
    “Mum, I’ve got amnesia.” I cut her off in a rush. “I’ve lost my memory. I’ve lost a whole chunk of my life. I’m really…freaked out.”
    “Oh. Yes, the nurse mentioned it.” Her gaze briefly meets mine, then flicks away again. Mum’s not the greatest at eye contact; she never has been. I used to get quite frustrated by it when I was younger, but now I just see it as one of those Mum things. Like the way she won’t learn the