Posted by Vesperae on July 7, 2009, 3:19 am, in reply to "“Anne’s Choice” by Richard / Chapter 8"
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Originally posted to the main forum April 10, 2007. "Anne's Choice" / Epilogue By Richard Martin Martin’s new romance with the tall, blonde Carol was going well. They were both good at sports and were able to play a variety of games against one another, such as tennis and squash. With their shared interest in sport they found that they had a lot of friends and acquaintances in common, which added to the enjoyment of the parties and other social activities which they were now attending in each other’s company. They hadn’t yet been to bed together, but all the indications were that this would not be long delayed. At times, Martin couldn’t help comparing Carol with Anne. Carol did not smoke, of course, and her apartment always had a fresh and fragrant air about it. She used a variety of essential oils which made her skin smell sweet and wholesome. Her hair smelt of aromatic conditioner. Her body was slim and well toned. It was easy to imagine her as a partner for life and, one day, as a mother – the perfect role model for her future family, and for his. But there were other days when Martin missed Anne very badly. She had been more fun to be with than any other girl he had ever dated, as well as being the most beautiful. Sometimes he would lie in bed and imagine that she was still there beside him. He would picture her dark eyes and recall the feel of the curves of her body. Stop it, he would say to himself: it’s over. Remember instead the smell of cigarette smoke in her hair, the bitter taste of tar on her breath. But when he did, he would find to his horror that, despite his aversion to smoking, he was growing hard. Martin was confused. What kind of man was he to be turned on by the effects of Anne’s unpleasant and unhealthy addiction? The truth, he now realised, was that he had been turned on by them from the outset. Why had he not been able to admit this to himself until now? And why did his thoughts about Anne in turn revive much more distant memories of women smokers? One thing was certain: he would never tell a living soul about this. What would his friends think of him if he confessed to being aroused by remembering the smell of cigarettes on a woman’s breath? And so Martin would fall asleep, looking forward to his next date with Carol, yet dreaming, secretly and guiltily, of one last smoke-flavoured kiss from Anne. Anne After her father’s illness and then her break-up with Martin, Anne considered that she deserved a treat. She had never been to the United States and, on an impulse, she booked herself a return flight for two weeks’ holiday. She had no concerns about traveling alone; she liked the idea of the independence which it would allow her. She did not, however, relish the prospect of a non-smoking transatlantic flight, and armed herself with a plentiful supply of nicotine gum. After a week’s sightseeing around New York City, she decided to hire a car and see a little of America outside the big city. Anne’s first night away from New York found her in a town in New Jersey. She checked into a hotel and, feeling in the mood for company, went down town to see what might be happening. She entered a lively looking bar, sat at the counter and ordered a drink. Opening her bag, she took out her Marlboros, happy to discover that the restrictions on smoking to which she had been subject in New York did not yet apply here. She put a cigarette in her mouth and was about to start searching in her bag again when she heard the click of a lighter and glanced up. A man who looked like a heavier version of Tom Selleck was smiling down at her. She accepted the light from him gratefully. “Thank you”, she said, and in doing so she accidentally blew some smoke towards the man’s face. Oh dear, she thought, I hope he didn’t think that was rude. The man smiled again. “You’re welcome,” he replied. “I don’t recall seeing you before in this watering hole.”