Page 213 of Two Marlboros

I thought I heard him sigh again and had the feeling, rather unpleasant to tell the truth, that he wasn’t really telling me everything.

“No, nothing at all.”

That was my turn to sigh because that situation was just not possible. Of course, on second thought maybe I should haveexpected it, because after all, what was he doing here alone if he had his whole family elsewhere? Maybe I had been fooled because sometimes his parents had come to visit him, and I had assumed they would that time too. I had been such a jerk.

“Nathan? Are you still there?”

“Yes, yes, I’m here.”

“Listen,” and his tone became harsher, “are you really back to stay?Really?”

No, it wasn’t an impression: he really had an inquisitive tone in asking me that question. But what was the point?

“Yes,really,” I repeated. “I came here on a one-way ticket, if that’s what you’re asking. And I have no intention of leaving again.”

He was silent for a moment, then I heard a smack of his lips and a long sigh.

“Alright, look, I have to go now. I’ll text you something, you do what you want with it.”

“Okay,” I replied unconvinced and a little annoyed by his tone. He had made me a little uncomfortable and I had the feeling, for the first time since I had known him, that he didn’t like me that much. Maybe he was pissed off at me because I had walked away and left Alan alone? Probably. Maybe Alan had made his life as impossible as when I had first met him? Probably that, too.

“Well, I’m off. Welcome back, by the way.”

“Thank you very much. And thanks for the information too,” I replied, but he didn’t even let me finish my sentence that he had already hung up.

At that point I was very, very curious about what he was going to send me and hoped it would not be a sequence of insults, which deep down I felt I did not deserve. What had happened between Alan and me was our thing and no one else’s, for better or worse, and Ash would have no reason to intrude.

I stayed staring at that blessed cell phone barely blinking because I was too curious, because I had to know. I managed to ignore even the noises of my stomach because of the attention that screen exerted on me.

And then - it finally vibrated.

It was indeed a text, and it was indeed from Ash.

My heart tarted hammering like it hadn’t all day, too eager to find out what he had sent me.

I opened it and almost had a stroke.

A home address.

In Brighton.

The first available plane to London was at ten twenty-seven in the evening, arriving at eleven in the morning the next day or so. The reservation clerk was checking to see if by any chance there an open seat was still, given the time and short notice.

I was a fool for doing what I was doing, I realized. Yet I could also feel all the adrenaline pinching my back from top to bottom, and vice versa.

The attendant stopped checking the screen and gave me a smile, which I hoped was not a matter of circumstance.

“Apparently, it’s your lucky day. There are still two seats left in second class.”

I stood in disbelief with my mouth wide open. Was I really going to do that madness? Yes, I was really going to do it.

“Great, I’ll give you the papers. How much is it?”

I sat in the waiting room and counted the minutes, which, as I anticipated, would not go by. I had bought myself a packet of chips, but I was no longer hungry, because having bought that ticket had turned my little madness into something palpable - and I seemed to hear a complaint from my wallet that I had definitely touched that reality.

Finally deciding to say goodbye to my resolutions, thinking that I could wait until the new year to start fulfilling them, I reached the smoking area in the cold and frost and lit up a Marlboro. I took the first puff and blew out the smoke letting it caress my lips, with a sense of pleasure that I had never felt again, for ranch smoking was no more or less than a quickie. Instead at that moment I was enjoying that lonely pause between me and the cigarette, a newfound companion to soothe my nerves, which immediately led me to abandon negative thoughts to leave room for the images that had instead made their way onto the plane. The romantic picture of kissing under the mistletoe returned, the Christmas hats on my head returned, and even the awkward sweaters that thank goodness I had never had peeped out, but I thought Alan might be the type because he was incapable of saying no to an ugly gift. All this surrounded, of course, by Christmas music in the background and a crackling fireplace.

There with me were a dozen or so people there to mist the air and enjoy that moment of healthy relaxation. Crammed together we all looked a bit like outcasts to be honest, but all in all it was just as well that they had left us that little space outside the terminal. The wind picked up a little, and much of that smoke swept over me and caressed my face and clothes. I breathed it in at the top of my lungs, then I was reminded of Alan asking me to smoke outside on his little terrace because otherwise I would leave the smell of smoke all over his house. And how could I blame him?

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