There are two versions of this story- Route 1 and Route 2
This is Route 1
Its typically Bazzle- there is smoking and drinking.
Please let me know which version you like.
As ever I have read through this several times, some gramma will have slipped through the net.
Life Decisions- Adult Beginnings Laura's Route 1
Chapter 1 Home Time
Laura slowly brought her car on to the driveway, the black tyres crunching loudly as they gripped the grey granite gravel chippings. She wiggled her hips forwards and with a huff at the extra effort, pressed her chest firmly against the groaning seatbelt. It was all an attempt trying to sit up higher in the chair and peer over the steering wheel. Laura was not particularly short nor tall. It was all an attempt to focus on the tip of the bonnet to sure that she stopped after pushing and loudly scratching the bumper far enough into the pretty green trimmed rhododendron bush. This was her failsafe method as to make sure that she left just enough space for her dad's car to be parked beside hers.
With the hand break cranked on, with a deep sigh she finally relaxed her head back against the headrest and whilst tutting again at the fallen white ash covering her steering wheel, she hurriedly brought the filter to her lips as she took another drag on her cigarette that had been burning the whole time between her fingers. She exhaled a cloud of smoke out though her nose, it twisted and twirled and bounced against the windscreen as she flicked cigarette against the open window and then took another small desperate drag, exhaled again through her nose leaving the filter dangled in the corner of her mouth as she waited for the electric motor to slowly wind her window the rest of the way up.
With the cigarette firmly clamped between her lips and the smoke snaking around the inside of the car she pushed her cigarette pack further into her open handbag. As to make doubly sure it did not fall out on the passenger side seat as she got out. She needed them. With a deep breath in of smoke, she pushed the door open and then swung her chubby legs out and slowly got out of the car exhaling as she slowly climbed out. She removed the cigarette from her lips and exhaled yet again as she stopped in front of the green wooden door. The smoke weaving in the wind engulfing and bathing herself yet again yet another highly potent odour filled cloud. Laura could never time it properly as the wind swirled around by the front door. She squeezed and rubbed her black tights covered thighs together as her knees moved as if she was running on the spot to stay warm in the cold gusting wind. Laura momentarily closed her eyes and tilted her head back and lifted her chest as if to open their airway and maximise the amount of effective smoke her lungs could take. It was as if she took one last deep almost desperate drag on the filter as if was for a final time ever.
She paused her wiggling and, held the smoke deep within her lungs before she finally exhaled. The cloud billowing and winding around her as the smoke continued to drift out her mouth and nose as she forcefully stubbed the out the now well over three quarter-smoked butt out, in what had been a red, but having been outside for several years was now very much pink weathered plastic ashtray on the windowsill. The fresh butt being wedged and squished beside over a dozen other now rain-soaked dark brown stained filters.
Several years ago, her mum Trisha had demanded, as Laura had obviously started to smoke more and more, that she must use the ashtray "acquired" in a pub before coming into the house. This was rather than just being a stroppy teenager and untidy dropping her awful butts and littering the driveway and potentially the street for everyone to see. There were standards to be maintained. There were no way those awful stinking cigarette things were coming into the house still lit.
It now meant that there was real evidence of her consumption that Laura could not really hide. However much she defended herself. It would always provide ammunition to her parents, so that she could be continually nagged that she was smoking far too much. Her mum could literally count the butts of every time she came home.
This got problematic especially as and when there were far too many butts on the windowsill that a second layer had geologically formed. Laura would again get shouted at to empty the blasted ashtray. Her mum would be complaining as it 'looked disgusting at the front of the house'. Laura did not dare argue that they could easily be hidden between the gravel on the floor.
Laura also had a matching 'acquired' ashtray on in the windowsill by the white plastic garden chair on the back patio. There was less pressure with that one filling up, which it would regularly overflow, as in the evenings she would leave her parents watching a boring TV show and then quietly slope out. That one hardly got complained about. Visitors to the house would never see it. Her parents never understood just how much Laura enjoyed smoking. She exhaled the final cloud of smoke and then focused as she moved her cigarette pack to the side of her bag and with a rummage pulled the copper-coloured key from inside her handbag and twisted the Yale lock and a got in the house.