Sophie Kinsella - Remember Me?

Contents

To Atticus

Prologue

Of all the crap, crap, crappy nights Ive ever had in the whole of my crap life.

On a scale of one to ten were talkinga minus six. And its not like I even have very high standards.

Rain spatters down my collar as I shift from one blistered foot to the other. Im holding my denim jacket over my head as a makeshift umbrella, but its not exactly waterproof. I just want to find a taxi, get home, kick off these stupid boots, and run a nice hot bath. But weve been waiting here for ten minutes and theres no sign of a cab.

My toes are agony. Im never buying shoes from Cut-Price Fashion again. I bought these boots last week in the sale (flat black patent; I only ever wear flats). They were half a size too small, but the girl said they would stretch and that they made my legs look really long. And I believed her. Honestly, Im the worlds biggest sucker.

Were all standing together on the corner of some street in southwest London that Ive never been to before, with music pounding faintly from the club below our feet. Carolyns sister is a promoter and got us discounted entry, so thats why we schlepped all the way here. Only now we have to get home, and Im the only one even looking for a cab.

Fi has commandeered the only nearby doorway and has her tongue down the throat of the guy she chatted up earlier at the bar. Hes cute, despite the weird little mustache. Also, hes shorter than Fibut then, a lot of guys are, given shes nearly six feet tall. She has long dark hair and a wide mouth, and an oversized laugh to match. When Fi is really tickled by something, she brings the whole office to a standstill.

A few feet away, Carolyn and Debs are sheltering underneath a newspaper arm in arm, caterwauling Its Raining Men as if theyre still on the karaoke stage.

Lexi! Debs yells, extending an arm for me to join in. Its raining men! Her long blond hair is all ratty in the rain, but shes still bright-faced. Debss two favorite hobbies are karaoke and jewelry makingin fact, Im wearing a pair of earrings she made me for my birthday: teeny silver Ls with dangling seed pearls.

It isnt bloody raining men! I call back morosely. Its just raining!

I normally love karaoke too. But Im not in a singing mood tonight. I feel all sore inside, like I want to curl up away from everyone else. If only Loser Dave had turned up like he promised. After all those luv u Lexi texts; after vowing faithfully to be here at ten. I sat waiting all that time, watching the door, even when the other girls told me to give up on him. Now I feel like a sappy moron.

Loser Dave works in car telesales and has been my boyfriend since we got together at Carolyns friends barbecue last summer. I dont call him Loser Dave to insult himits just his nickname. No one remembers how he got it and he wont tell; in fact, hes always trying to make people call him something else. He started referring to himself as Butch a while ago, because he reckons he looks like Bruce Willis in Pulp Fiction. He has a buzz cut, I supposebut the resemblance ends there.

Anyway, it didnt catch on. To his workmates he just is Loser Dave, the way Im Snaggletooth. Ive been called that since I was eleven. And sometimes Snagglehair. To be fair, my hair is pretty frizzy. And my teeth are kind of crooked. But I always say they give my face character.

(Actually, thats a lie. Its Fi who says they give my face character. Personally, Im planning to fix them, as soon as Ive got the cash and can psych myself up to having braces in my mouthi.e., probably never.)

A taxi comes into sight and I immediately stick out my handbut some people ahead flag it down first. Great. I shove my hands in my pockets and miserably scan the rainy road for another yellow light.

Its not just Loser Dave standing me up thats bothering me: its the bonuses. Today was the end of the financial year at work. Everyone was given paper slips saying how much theyd got and started jumping about with excitement, because it turns out the companys 20032004 sales were better than anyone expected. It was like Christmas came ten months early. Everyone was gabbing all afternoon about how they were going to spend the money. Carolyn started planning a holiday to New York with her boyfriend, Matt. Debs booked highlights at Nicky Clarkeshes always wanted to go there. Fi called Harvey Nichols and reserved herself a new cool bag called a Paddington or something.

And then there was me. With nada. Not because I havent worked hard, not because I didnt meet my targets, but because to get a bonus you have to have worked for the company for a year, and I missed qualifying by a week. One week. Its so unfair. Its so penny-pinching. Im telling you, if they asked me what I thought about it

Anyway. Like Simon Johnson would ever ask the opinion of an associate junior sales manager (flooring). Thats the other thing: I have the worst job title ever. Its embarrassing. It hardly even fits on my business card. The longer the title, Ive decided, the crappier the job. They think theyll blind you with words and you wont notice youve been stuck in the corner of the office with the lousy accounts no one else wants to work on.

A car splashes through a puddle near the pavement and I jump back, but not before a shower of water hits me in the face. From the doorway I can hear Fi hotting things up, murmuring into the ear of the cute guy. I catch a few familiar words and, despite my mood, have to clamp my lips together so I dont laugh. Months ago, we had a girls night in, and ended up confessing all our dirty-talk secrets. Fi said she uses the same line each time and it works a treat: I think my underwears melting off.

I mean. Would any guy fall for that?

Well, I guess, by Fis record, they do.

Debs confessed that the only word she can use without cracking up during sex is hot. So all she ever says is Im hot. Youre so hot. This is really hot. Mind you, when youre as stunning as Debs, I wouldnt think youd need much of a repertoire.

Carolyn has been with Matt for a million years and declared she never talks in bed at all except to say ow or higher, or once, as he was about to come, Oh crap, I left my hair straighteners on. I dont know if she really meant it; shes got a pretty quirky sense of humor, just like Matt. Theyre both superbrightalmost geekybut cool with it. When were all out together the two of them throw so many insults at each other, its hard to know if theyre ever serious. Im not sure even they know.

Then it was my turn, and I told the truth, which is that I compliment the guy. Like, with Loser Dave, I always say You have beautiful shoulders and You have such beautiful eyes.

I didnt admit that I say these things because Im always secretly hoping to hear back from a guy that Im beautiful too.

Nor did I admit that its never yet happened.

Anyway. Whatever.

Hey, Lexi. I look up to see that Fi has unsuckered herself from the cute guy. She ducks under my denim jacket and gets out a lipstick.

Hi, I say, blinking rainwater off my lashes. Wheres lover boy gone?

To tell the girl he came with that hes leaving.

Fi!

What? Fi looks unrepentant. Theyre not an item. Or much of one. She carefully redoes her mouth in pillar-box red. Im getting a whole new load of makeup, she says, frowning at the blunt end of the lipstick. Christian Dior, the whole lot. I can afford it now!