I was swimming toward the light... upward... upward, my eyes flicked open... I was awake, conscious once again.
Voices, I could hear voices, tubes were in my mouth and nose.
"I think she's awake doctor" one voice said.
Faces were hovering above me.
"Hello there. I see you're back with us again... how do you feel?"
The fact was I felt terrible, I couldn't move and my side ached like hell.
I could hardly talk, my voice sounded weak and far away.
"What happened... where am I?" I asked in a croaky voice
"You were in an accident... a car crash... you're very lucky to be alive, do you know who you are?" the doctor asked.
I searched my mind and memory but as hard as I tried I could remember nothing and then I realised, my memory was totally blank... not even my name.
"I... I... I can't remember... nothing... nothing at all... who am I?" I asked
"Well we were hoping you could tell us" they said
"There must be something... some sort of clue"
"No, not a thing. The driver of the car was killed outright, you were very, very lucky hardly a scratch on you, given a few days and you should be right as rain, you're memory could be back then, just rest up, we'll keep an eye on you and try to fathom out who you are" said the doctor, then they left to talk amongst themselves.
In the ensuing days, all the wires and tubes that had been connected to me were removed. The aches started to subside and I was left with only bruising, this also would heal in the next few days. When I viewed the photos of the crash later, it was indeed a miracle that I had escaped with so little injury.
The police of course came to interview me, but I could tell them nothing more than I'd already told the doctors... I could remember nothing.
"Well it would seem you were lucky on two counts... first the crash and second the man who was driving you... he was a suspect in at least seven rapes around the city... we could not prove any connection to the rape victims. We know who he was... but where you fit in remains a mystery I'm afraid" said Lieutenant Digby Rossiter "However we'll keep trying... there's got to be someone who knows you"
I was a complete mystery to everyone, myself included. Then they decided to place a photo of me in the local press, with my story and my lost memory to see if anyone could recognize me... and it worked.
Three days later an entourage of folk, came trouping into my room. Three women and two men.
"Abigail... darling, how are you my love" which was accompanied with hugs and kisses all round
I stared at the five people surrounding my bed, studying each face individually, searching for some form of recognition... willing my memory to return, but alas none came... they were all strangers to me.
"I'm... I'm sorry I don't seem to be able to recall who you all are"
"Ah the doctor said you have suffered a memory loss, he's not too sure how long it will take to regain it... maybe tomorrow... maybe a few months. Said to try and get you back on your feet and doing the things you did previously, then something familiar may just trigger something"
"Well who am I, what's my name... you guys must know that... you called me Abigail when you came in"
"Yes... yes your name is Abigail Foster and these are your friends" said one of the guys, who'd drawn up a chair, sitting along side me and was holding my hand.
"I'm Brad... Brad Stevens, I'm your boyfriend, partner, and we live at Stevens Close. This is Jeannette Boswell... this is Harriet Crosby, Diane Gower, and Reggie Powell" he said as he introduced me to the others.
"You don't remember a thing do you" He asked.
"No... no not a thing, they tell me I was in a car crash and it would seem I'm lucky to survive... I've seen the photos... quite horrific"
"Yeh, we've seen them too... you were very lucky... very lucky indeed... anyhow we have to get you all better again and get back to normal living... get that memory of yours back" said Brad, giving my hand a reassuring grip.
"So what else, what more can you tell me, what do I do, where do I work"
There was silence as they all looked furtively at one another, no one wishing to speak.
"Er look we can go over all that later, we have heaps to tell you, try and bring you up to date, see if any of it jogs your memory"
"What is it... what do you not wish to tell me now?"
"Well... er... the truth is, you work as an escort, you and all of us own and run the agency... you know all partners in the project, even splits"
"You mean... I'm... I'm a prostitute, is that what you're telling me" I replied
"Well yes... that's it; we thought we'd leave it until we got you home"
"God I can't believe it... somehow I thought it would be the last thing I'd do"
"Well no... no it's not, you have a very good following, very popular, you've held the place together over the last four years... we need you back in one piece again"
Again I searched the faces for a clue, something anything that would jog my memory... nothing.
"How did you know I was here... why didn't you come looking for me sooner" I asked.
"Well the thing is sweetheart, you had taken off for a vacation, wanted to be alone for a while... you'd been working real hard... lots of pressure, we all agreed a vacation would do you good, we knew nothing about the accident until we saw your picture in the paper... and here we are"
I was hardly listening to the excited chatter that was going on around me. I tried in vain to remember... a hooker, god I was a hooker... well it was one piece of the puzzle I guess... if only I could remember.
My friends and colleagues continued to visit and as the weeks passed, the wounds healed, but not my memory, then the doctor said there was nothing more they could do for me physically... time would heal the memory. The best thing was to return to the everyday things I had done before the accident and eventually this may suddenly trigger the mind.
Brad drove me home, it was a nice house, well furnished and in a good location. It faced out to the sea, the sound of surf crashing on the shore.
"The Escort Agency must do well" I said looking at the house and fine furnishings.
"Pretty good, we get by I guess... but it's all because of you... without you it would be nothing"
I wandered from room to room, picking up ornaments trying to visualize them in my mind, hoping they would be that trigger... the trigger for my memory, nothing. I opened the wardrobe that Brad said held all my cloths. I took them out, held them, smelled them, smell sometimes brought back memories, opened draws... underwear... lots of underwear. I obviously liked sexy underwear, shoes, mostly hi heal... going through each item told me that my wardrobe held clothing that was suited to a person who was involved in the sex industry. Rather erotic, clothing that would excite men. So it was all true, everything Brad had told me was true. I was a prostitute. Nothing so far had helped me. My mind was still a blank.
"If you like I'll sleep in the spare room, give you some space and time to get used to me and you again... you know" he said
"Thanks... that's most considerate of you... I appreciate that" I replied.
Brad was more than considerate and very understanding, as were the girls. I continued in my quest to regain my memory but to no avail. I slowly put together what Brad and the others knew about me and bit by bit I started to put my life back together, so I was starting my life from the time of the accident. I made visits to the agency and whilst there, men would come over to me and tell me it was great to see me back and how long would it be before I was back working. Every client of mine I tried in vain to remember him or them, it was so frustrating, everyone knew me, but I just could not remember them. I had to do something about it and do it fast.
"I think it's about time I moved back into bed with you sweetheart, perhaps if you try and pick up the threads again, it may just help, sitting waiting for it to happen isn't going to help and the girls are getting a little, well worked up and understandably so, they feel you are not pulling your weight, they are doing all the work, while you contribute nothing... we have to move on"
I knew this day was coming, as good as Brad had been to me, He eventually would want things to return to the way they had been... whilst I was still uncertain as to who I was. I thought that at some stage I must have loved him... loved him deeply to, share his bed, and also to go into business with him and the others, turning tricks for a living. I guess the time had arrived.
"Yeh... ok... how about one thing at a time, move back into bed with me first and let's see how the other pans out" I said.
"Sure... but don't leave it too long... the other girls aren't going to carry you forever... I'm under pressure from them now"
That night I felt a little awkward and somewhat embarrassed at undressing and slipping between the sheets with this... well this stranger I guess, maybe our love making would do the trick.
.... There is more of this story ...