What Alice Forgot Read Free

heaven’s sake! “Do? What do you mean, what am I going to do? I’m going to have a baby.” She sniffed. “You smell of lavender. I knew I could smell lavender.” Her sense of smell had been extra strong because of the pregnancy.
    “It’s my deodorant.” Jane really didn’t look like herself. Her eyes didn’t look right. It was quite noticeable. Maybe she needed to start using some sort of eye cream.
    “Are you all right, Jane?”
    Jane snorted. “I’m fine. Worry about yourself, woman. You’re the pregnant one knocking yourself out.”
    The baby! She’d been selfishly thinking about her sore head when she should have been worrying about the poor little Sultana. What sort of a mother was she going to be?
    She said, “I hope I didn’t hurt the baby when I fell.”
    “Oh, babies are pretty tough, I wouldn’t worry about that.”
    It was another woman’s voice. For the first time Alice looked up and realized a crowd of red-faced, middle-aged women in sports gear surrounded her. Some of them were leaning forward, staring at her with avid road-accident interest, while others had their hands on their hips and were chatting to one another as if they were at a party. They seemed to be in a small, fluorescentlit room. She could hear tinny music somewhere in the distance, clanking metal sounds, and a sudden burst of loud masculine laughter. As she lifted her head, she saw that the room was filled with stationary bikes, all crammed together and facing the same direction.
    “Although, you shouldn’t really be doing exercise that gets your heart rate up too high if you’re pregnant,” said another woman.
    “But I don’t do any exercise,” said Alice. “I should do more exercise.”
    “You, my girl, couldn’t do any more exercise if you tried,” said Jane.
    “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She looked around at the strange faces surrounding her. This was all so . . . silly. “I don’t know where I am.”
    “She’s probably got a concussion,” said somebody excitedly. “Concussed people are dazed and disoriented.”
    Spin Crazy Girl looked frightened and stroked Alice’s arm. “Oh dear, sweetie, YOU MIGHT BE JUST A LITTLE BIT CONCUSSED,” she yelled.
    “Yes, but I don’t think that makes her deaf,” said Jane tersely. She lowered her voice and bent her head toward Alice. “Everything is fine. You’re at the gym, you were doing your Friday spin class, the one you’ve been wanting to drag me along to for ages, remember? Can’t quite see the attraction, actually. Anyway, you must have got dizzy, or fainted or something, because one minute you were riding like a madwoman and next thing you were crashing to the floor. You’re going to be fine. More importantly, why didn’t you tell me you were pregnant?”
    “What’s a Friday spin class?” asked Alice.
    “Oh, this is bad ,” said Jane excitedly.
    “The ambulance is here!” someone said.
    Spin Crazy Girl became goofy with relief. She bounded to her feet and shooed at the ladies like an energetic housewife with a broom. “Right, gang, let’s give them some space, shall we?”
    Jane stayed kneeling on the floor next to Alice, patting her distractedly on the shoulder. Then she stopped patting. “Oh, my. Why do you get all the fun?”
    Alice twisted her head and saw two handsome men in blue overalls striding toward them, carrying first aid equipment. Embarrassed, she struggled to sit up.
    “Stay there, honey,” called out the taller one.
    “He looks just like George Clooney,” breathed Jane in her ear. He did, too. Alice couldn’t help but feel cheerier. It seemed she’d woken up in an episode of ER .
    “Hey, there.” George Clooney squatted down next to them, big hands resting between his knees. “What’s your name?”
    “Jane,” said Jane. “Oh. Her name is Alice.”
    “What’s your full name, Alice?” George gently took her wrist and pushed two fingers against her pulse.
    “Alice Mary Love.”
    “Had a bit