Marked by Denis Martin Page B

the back.
    I looked at him in surprise. If she played the guitar, why the hell had she joined the choir? She’d told me she sang like a prairie dog. Why hadn’t she said anything?
    “Have you heard her play?” I asked.
    “No. I’ve just seen it in her room.” The ute came to a halt outside our cottage, and he turned to me. “See you tomorrow? Usual time?”
    I nodded.
    “What’s the story with your Dad’s car?”
    “Don’t know.” I was thinking how good it would be if it had a nasty accident. Like falling into an acid bath. Riding home in Jed’s ute with Kat was a great way to end the school day – and that would stop as soon as Dad got his wheels back. Not much room for her bike in the boot of a tiny sports car.

    Kat had been right on the mark when she suggested I might need to tone up my fitness. Every sad muscle was screaming for a rest. Running on empty – and I hadn’t even reached the top yet. The track was much rougher than I’d expected, and I kept tripping on tree roots. Almost there though and then it was downhill to the beach. If I had any sense, I’d take the long way home, around the coast. At least it was flat. I hadn’t played any sport all winter, but it was a real shock to discover how unfit I was.
    Finally, I staggered to the top. A lookout had been built up there, and I flopped onto one of the benches. The view was fantastic, right out past the islands to the edge of the world. But I wasn’t admiring it. I was slumped forwards, elbows on my knees, gasping for breath. Coaches always say you should never stop during a training run. Keep moving … keep your heart in exercise mode.
Stuff
the coaches.
    It was a worry. If I couldn’t get fitter than this, Burger
would
murder me – like everyone said. I waited till the sweat was cooling against my back and then heaved myself to my feet. Started jogging down the track to the beach. It was much easier downhill, and my lungs had kicked off their sense of panic. I caught the occasional glimpse of the shoreline through the trees and could see someone down on the sand bending over a boat. Jed. I couldn’t see his shack, but I knew it was tucked into the hillside above.
    He glanced up as I slithered down the last part of the track onto the sand. The stream runs across it at that point, making the rocks slippery. “Gidday. You in training for the Iron Man?”
    I flopped down on the sand. “Just about. I’m taking everyone’s advice. Trying to get a bit fitter. So Burger won’t have everything his own way. Not that I’d call him an iron man.”
    He had his back to me, tanned shoulders in a work singlet, hair hanging forwards in a loose tangle. He was fiddling with something in the boat, and I could smell fish. “I seem to recall my advice was to take a sickie.”
    “Yeah right.”
    He lifted a cooler out of the dinghy and rested his spear gun against it. “If you’ve got time to stop and laze about, you can give me a hand with the boat.” He nodded across the beach towards his boatshed. “I was gonna wait for Kat. She’s somewhere down the beach there. But since you’re here …” He stooped to grab hold of the rail and waited for me to take the other side. “It’s easier with two. Saves dragging it.”
    “What’s Kat up to?” I said, trying to sound super casual. He’d left the outboard on the stern so the dinghy was tail heavy, and I had to adjust my grip to get the balance right.
    Jed grinned. “Same as you – out for a run. You know, healthy body and all that. Firm, taut muscles … nice bum.”
    “Get knotted.”
    His smile broadened, but he didn’t say anything.
    “Which way did she go?” I asked at last. Didn’t want to appear too interested.
    “Down to the point. Not that
you’ll
ever catch her. I’ve seen corpses with less lassitude than you. If you want to catch the damsels – you’ve gotta be as quick as they are.” He was laughing now, but I could take it from Jed. “You’d better wait till she