Yet it seemed as though her friendship with Gina had been a significant part of her life.

And then Gina had died and she’d been “devastated.” It made Alice feel sort of silly. As if she’d made too big a fuss over something.

The sound of the motorbike got closer.

Goodness. It was coming up her driveway. Was this “L”?

Alice wiped a hand across her mouth and put the plate down on the step next to her.

A man in a black leather jacket, his face invisible behind his opaque black helmet, lifted a casual gloved hand in greeting as he pulled up in front of her. He stopped the bike and turned off the ignition.

“Hey there,” he said, as he pulled off his helmet and unzipped his jacket.

“Hey,” said Alice, and coughed because she’d never said “Hey” to anyone before. He was so handsome, it was like a joke. He was all broad shoulders, biceps, piercing eyes, and stubbled jaw. Alice found herself looking around for another woman. There was no point in such a gorgeous man without a friend or sister there so you could exchange glances.

Surely, she wasn’t dating him as well? It wouldn’t be possible. He was way out of her league. He was a cartoon character. She felt a wave of giggles rising in her chest.

“What are you doing eating just before a session?” asked the sex god.

“A session?” asked Alice. Her mind raced. Oh, my Lord, maybe he was a gigolo and he was here to service her. After all, she was a middle-aged woman with a swimming pool.

“That’s not like you.”

He pulled off his leather jacket and his white T-shirt rode up to reveal his stomach.

Well, it wouldn’t be the end of the world.

No sirrreee. If she’d paid in advance, for example . . .

Alice began to giggle helplessly.

He smiled warily. “What’s the joke?” He rested his helmet on the front of his bike and walked over toward her. What could she say? You’re so good-looking, I find it hilarious.

She was giggling so hard her legs felt weak. He looked frightened. For heaven’s sake. Attractive people were still real. They had feelings. Alice took a hold of herself.

“I had an accident,” she said, looking up at him. “Last week. At the gym. Hit my head. I’m suffering a bit of memory loss. So, I’m sorry, I don’t know who you are, or, ah, why you’re here.”

“You’re kidding.” He looked down at her suspiciously. “It’s not April Fools’ Day, is it?”

“No,” sighed Alice. Her giggles drifted away. She had a bit of a headache actually. Damned head. “I don’t know who you are.”

“It’s me,” he said. “Luke.”

“I’m sorry, Luke. I need more information.”

He laughed a bit, and his eyes darted around nervously as if someone might be watching him make a fool of himself. “I’m your personal trainer. I come every Monday morning to give you a training session.”

Oh, for heaven’s sake. No wonder she was so skinny.

“So, we exercise, is that right? What do we do exactly?”

“Well, we vary it. A bit of cardio, some weights. We’ve been doing well with the interval training lately.”

Alice had no idea what he was talking about.

“I just had three pieces of custard tart,” she said, holding up the plate.

Luke sat down next to her and helped himself to the last piece of tart. “Yeah, I won’t tell you how many calories you just consumed.”

“Oh, thousands!” said Alice. “Thousands of divinely delicious calories.”

He gave her an odd look, and said, “Well if you’ve got a head injury, I suppose we shouldn’t be training today.”

“No,” said Alice. She didn’t want to exercise in front of him. The very thought made her feel self-conscious. “I’ll still pay, of course.”

“That’s okay.”

“No, no, I insist.”

“Well, let’s just make it a hundred.”

Geez. What did he normally charge?

“So, this memory thing is just temporary, I assume?” he said. “What do the doctors say?”

Alice waved him away irritably. She didn’t want to talk to him about that. One hundred dollars! “How long have you been my personal trainer?”

Luke stretched out his long legs and leaned back on his elbows. “Oh, wow, it must be coming up to three years now. You and Gina were, like, maybe my second-ever clients. Bloody hell, she made me laugh in the beginning. Remember the fuss she made whenever we did the stairs down at the park? Not the stairs, Luke, anything but the stairs. She got pretty good, though. You both got so fit.” He stopped talking and Alice realized with a start that he was trying not to cry.

“Sorry,” he said in a muffled voice. “It’s just that I never knew anyone who died before. It sort of freaks me out. Every time I come over to train you, I think of her. I mean, obviously you miss her so much more than me. Probably sounds stupid.”

“I don’t remember her,” said Alice.

Luke looked at her, shocked. “You don’t remember Gina?”

“No. I mean—I know she used to be my friend. And I know she’s dead.”

“Wow.” He seemed lost for words. Finally he came up with one. “Freaky.”

Alice stretched her neck from side to side. She felt a strong desire to eat or drink something quite specific, except she couldn’t work out what it was. Frankly, it was making her feel quite irritable.