Oh, hello - I didn't recognise you with clothes on," said a deep husky voice emanating from someone standing behind me, and staring at the platform boards on Victoria station.

Turned round to catch sight of blond athletic man from Hassocks looking at me with an eyebrow raised but mouth firmly shut. "Hi," said the voice again.

And this time I saw it had come from a middle-aged woman, dressed in a business-like black trouser suit, who I vaguely recognised but couldn't immediately place. "So this is what you look like during the day."

I glanced from her to Hassocks who, if it were possible, had raised his eyebrows further than before and wondered who on earth this woman could be.

At first I assumed it must be a case of mistaken identity - except that everything about her was disconcertingly familiar. The deep husky voice, which at first I'd mistaken for a man's, the tall muscular build and the hard, angled face.

I definitely knew her from somewhere - but where? And why hadn't I been wearing any clothes?

I was seized with a panic that I must have blackouts, during which I lead a whole other life which I couldn't remember, when the platform board signalled that the train for Brighton was ready on platform 15.

Hassocks gave me a wink and made his way through the barriers while mystery/familiar woman continued chatting.

"Do you get this train regularly?" she asked.

"Well, yes . . . This one or the next usually" I replied.

"I'm surprised I've never seen you on it before," she continued. "Is that why you're in such a hurry in the mornings then - running to catch the train?"

"Er, yes . . ." I replied, now seriously worried that there was a whole new side of me that I didn't know about.

"Look," I continued. "I'm really sorry but you obviously know me and you do look very familiar but I can't actually remember who you are."

"Elaine," she said, leaving me none the wiser. "With the Thai lotus tattoo.

"We were talking about how I had it done in Ko Samui and you said you'd been there on holiday and would love to go back."

I certainly remembered the conversation and was seriously worried that I could also picture the tattoo on a midriff when she put me out of my misery. "At the swimming pool . . ." she finished.

"Ah yes, Elaine," I replied. "When you said you didn't recognise me with clothes on I began to worry I was leading some secret lesbian life - so secret that even I didn't remember it."

Now of course, I knew exactly that I'd met her a couple of times when in a fit of New Year spring-is-upon-us zeal I had dragged myself to the pool before work.

Elaine had been thrashing up and down in a sporty two-piece which revealed a lotus tattoo on a toned midriff which presumably had to be kept toned by thrashing up and down the pool in order to prevent the lotus from wilting.

"I think . . . " said Elaine, getting on to the train, "that from the way he was looking at us, that rather attractive man from Hassocks who overheard us might have had the same concern . . ."