The boardwalk was packed. The baby buggies that Cate had seen earlier were gone, replaced by more serious joggers making a big show of drinking water and checking their bulky watches. Some of the men were shirtless, their tanned biceps bulging as they pounded along. The women were sporting the skimpiest of sportswear, perfectly cut to show off their toned arms and tight enough to make their washboard stomachs clear. Cate thought she had never seen so much human physical perfection in one place. She glanced down at her pallid arms – she had a bit of catching up to do. As Cate began to run, she could feel the energy surging back into her body. She could hear music and smelled the aroma of freshly ground coffee wafting from the beachside cafés. The smell reminded Cate of her summer holiday in Antibes in the South of France, when she had been working on the yacht belonging to the supermodel Nancy Kyle. The boardwalk swerved inland through a leafy park then back out to the beach, passing a large sign for the Santa Monica Surf School.
