“Uh, something happened to me last year. I can’t explain what exactly because I don’t know.” well that was the truth anyway.“I think it was ...ome kind of seizure.” I said, still just about inside of the truth.“When I woke up I couldn’t remember anything about my past or how a girl should act, what she should do, it’s like a kind of patchy memory loss.” I think I may just be able to pull this off without actually lying.“Is it likely to happen again or will the memories come back.” Wishes asked. ' Craig smiled nervously, 'Wonderful. Well thank you for your help.' Still confused, Craig paid for the smokes and headed back up to his room. The clock in the room showed 22.17 hrs. There were bread left-overs, unfinished rice on plastic plates, empty cups and scruffled serviettes scattered across the table. Craig was slumped in a chair resting. Sheila, finally awake, was stood alert at the hotel room window observing the lights down below. She appeared lively and cheerful, eager to discover. I watched the tension in his outstretched arm. He let it drop and exhaled as he turned towards me, his features hidden again in the smoke, like I was looking at him through net curtains.“Before anyone’s time,” he muttered, and took another long drag on the cigarette, the red tip flaring, “Tara, isn’t it?”I was taken aback, quite sure I didn’t know him, certain we’d not met but he knew my name. There was no hesitation or doubt in his voice.“Yeah,” I drawled trying to put the face together. The coffee shop was just a few yards from my car so I could watch it in case the police wanted it moved. I ordered a cappuccino while he just had regular coffee. He was good at getting me to talk about my family and I felt the stress leave my body. I told him of my ailing husband and his long recovery. I told him of the affect that his illness had on our daughter who was sixteen and had been putting on weight because she ate when she was worried. As we left the coffee shop, he walked to my car.