Flushed with glory, Jenny settles to watch the boys’ final. She can’t bring herself to sit. Josh is also a finalist, and she’s looking forward to it, as she is sure he will win his match also.

Josh’s opponent is tall, heavily-built and fast, and Jenny watches in fascination as the two test each other. They are well-matched, almost even in abilities, but as she watches, analysing as she spectates, Josh has the edge.

“I’m sure he’ll win,” she says.

When Chad doesn’t reply, she turns to see him, all but mesmerised as he watches the fight.

And after a while, she realises he is watching Josh.

*****

“The match to Joshua Henderson!”

Breathing heavily, Josh leans forward, resting gloved hands on thighs slicked with sweat. Triumphant, as he straightens up, he swipes glossy black waves of hair back from his face.

Briefly his eyes meet Jenny's and he grins, mouthing congratulations to her, in the manner of one professional meeting another.

A girl comes running up to him, throwing her arms around his neck with a squeal. “You won! You won!”

Chad's face falls.

“What's wrong?” asks Jenny.

Colour rises up his face. “Nothing,” he mutters, but he won't meet her eye.

A shadow falls across the pair: Mr Kalkowski. “I believe congratulations are in order, Jenny. Regional boxing champion. A first for our school.”

and with victory. “I

am sure you will have many more victories, young

*****

Six Years Ago

favourite chair, cosy by the fire in chilly weather. “What are you reading

a prospectus for the

“A prospectus? You mean you want to go to

Mr Kalkowski says he thinks I should, and the more I read about

supposed to be marrying Chad. You’ll be his wife. How can you do that and go to university? And when the children come, how would you take care of

answer. Her eyes mist over and

*****

evening meal, Brett, blank-faced, says, “Eleanor tells

“Well, not exactly.”

university and stay here,

slumps. “I suppose

in this little scheme of yours? You just walk away after you’ve promised to

food going dry in her mouth and settling heavily

scooping up mash, pouring gravy, and eyeing her without favour. “What’s that all about? What

says Jenny. But her voice is subdued, her sparkle

scoffs Tom. “What use is that? Quoting Einstein won't get the hay in the barn or feed the chickens. And it won't change a nappy either.” He jabs a finger

Diane, sitting next to him, pipes up. “I wouldn’t dream of being anywhere except here with my husband, not with the baby coming and everything. It wouldn’t

Brett, hooks her arms through his, looking up to her fiancé with stars in her eyes. “When Brett ‘n me get married, we’ll be trying for a baby right

fork into a roast potato, innocent of any crime as it lies in its pool of gravy. Then, speaking with his mouth full, he

down her mouthful. “I can’t help

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