36

It’s a game. Just a game. It doesn’t mean anything.

Even so, I’m feeling more irritable by the second. Why can’t I remember this stuff? And, more to the point, why can’t Ben? Isn’t he interested in the details of my life?

We’re sitting in the hotel garden with ten minutes to go before Couples’ Quiz starts, and I’ve never felt less prepared for a test in my life. Ben is lying in a hammock, drinking beer and playing some new rap song on his iPad, which really isn’t improving my mood.

“Let’s go again,” I say. “And, this time, concentrate. What shampoo do I use?”

“L’Oréal.”

“No!”

“Head and Shoulders, extra strong for monster dandruff.” He smirks. “No!” I kick him. “I told you. Kerastase. And you use Paul Mitchell.” “Do I?” he says blankly.

I feel instant rage boiling up inside me. “What do you mean, ‘do I’? You told me you use Paul Mitchell! We have to be on the same page for this, Ben. If you say Paul Mitchell once, you have to stick to Paul Mitchell!”

“Jesus.” Ben takes a sip of beer. “L