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Beaumont arrived at the Fitness Centre a broken man, mourning the death of his young wife. He scanned his membership card and went straight into the gym, dressed for cardio in black track suit bottoms, thin, cool t-shirt, running shoes. At least, he wouldn’t have to change in the locker room. He found the sight of fitter, young men, half his age, towelling their well-endowed bodies dry, embarrassing. The gym was heaving with sweaty bodies at that time of the morning. Fanatics, dripping, dropping in, to oxygenate their beefed-up muscles on their way to work. One treadmill, fitted with a tv screen, was free. Beaumont swooped, hung his turquoise hand towel round his neck and selected manual. The belt started to run. He pressed quick start, selected a speed of 4.0, incline of 6.0, and jogged. The tv was tuned in to a lively breakfast debate on healthy eating. Finding it distracting, he switched it off and got into his stride. The shadowy carbon screen matched his sombre mood.

After 32.17 minutes, Beaumont had run 2.1km and burnt off 329.3 calories. At that exact moment Elspeth’s ghostly apparition appeared on the screen and mouthed:

‘Come to me, my love!’

The gym disappeared. The screen grew larger, larger and larger until it swallowed him up.

Time elapsed: 32.18 minutes.

Distance: 2.11km.

Calories burned: 1329.3.

Heart rate: 123, 129, 134, 137, 142, 146, 155, 158, 164, 167, 176, 178, 185, 197, 208, 211.

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