Coco Pinchard, the Consequences of Love and Sex

by Robert Bryndza

  ‘Sorry, Emo. He’s also got a tattoo on his bottom!’

  ‘It’s a scorpion on my arse,’ he grinned.

  ‘I hope it doesn’t sting me,’ giggled Meryl.

  ‘If you’re lucky…’ he said. She shrieked, and then went to serve someone else.

  ‘What are you doing Meryl?’ I said.

  ‘Having fun Coco, come on, have some fun!’

  She then downed three of the shots.

  ‘Ooh, that certainly isn’t Emva cream!’ she said. I realised we might be painting the town red after all.

  Wednesday 4th April

  Adam woke me up with a cup of decaf coffee. Sunlight was pouring into the bedroom.

  ‘What time is it?’ I asked.

  ‘Just after lunch. What time did you get in?’

  ‘Two-thirty,’ I groaned.

  ‘You didn’t drink?’

  ‘Not a drop. I wish I had though.’

  ‘I thought it was going to be done and dusted by nine thirty?’ he said.

  ‘Someone had to keep an eye on Meryl, she was wild.’ I told him how we’d stayed in All Bar One until closing, and then Meryl had dragged me along to a Karaoke bar with Luke the barman and his friends.

  ‘Did Meryl sing?’ said Adam.

  ‘Yes, she sang, a lot,’ I said.

  ‘Can she sing?’

  ‘No. But her rendition of ‘Bootylicious’ is etched on my brain. I’ve never known anyone make I don’t think you’re ready for this jelly sound like she’s telling everyone off at a kids’ birthday party.’

  When I’d finished my coffee we came out onto the landing. Adam stopped suddenly outside the spare room.

  ‘Shhhh!’ he hissed holding up his hand. I heard Meryl’s tinkly voice, then a male voice murmuring. She burst into a shriek of laughter.

  ‘Did she bring someone back?’ whispered Adam, horrified.

  ‘No, we came home alone,’ I said. ‘It’s not Wilfred?’

  Adam looked at me.

  ‘Does that sound like a two year old? It’s some random bloke,’ he said. I dragged him away and we came downstairs.

  ‘We can’t just barge in,’ I said when we were in the kitchen.

  ‘Why not? It’s our house,’ said Adam.

  ‘She’s our guest.’

  ‘And she should have asked if she wanted to bring round some mucky one night stand.’

  ‘I’m sure Meryl will have checked behind his ears. He’ll be clean… Where’s Wilfred?’

  ‘Watching a film,’ said Adam.

  We went through to the living room where Wilfred was curled up with Rocco in his dog bed, watching ‘The Goonies’ on the TV.

  ‘Are you okay love?’ I asked Wilfred.

  ‘Nice doggy wuff wuff,’ said Wilfred cuddling close to Rocco.

  ‘Why is he in there?’ I asked.

  ‘It was the only place he’d settle. I’ve spent the morning trying to stop him eating bog roll…’

  ‘Do you think it’s okay to leave him there?’

  ‘He’s fine. Rocco loves him.’

  Rocco gave a contented snort and closed his eyes.

  ‘Meryl might not be happy, that we’ve put her son in the dog’s bed.’

  ‘Meryl can’t really judge. She’s up there doing God knows what,’ said Adam. ‘Actually, I’m going to go up there now and haul this bloke out.’

  ‘No! Why are you suddenly so moral?’

  ‘I don’t know. She and Tony seemed rock- solid. If they can’t make it work, what chance do the rest of us have?’

  There was a frantic banging on the front door and the bell rang repeatedly. Ethel was standing outside in her mac and see-through rain hood.

  ‘Where is she?’ she demanded. Her eyes were wild.

  ‘Meryl?’ I said.

  ‘She’s in the spare room ain’t she? Still in bed? Getting up to all sorts!’

  ‘She’s asleep,’ I said.

  ‘I’ll be the judge of that!’ Ethel pushed past us and darted up the stairs.

  ‘Ethel! Wait!’ I shouted, and we followed her up. We heard a scream from Meryl. Then lots of shouting. When we got to the spare room, the door was wide open. Meryl was in bed with the sheets pulled up to her chin. Ethel was standing over her, and the barman Luke was in his underwear, frantically trying to get back into his trousers. He had the most beautiful body, taut and lean. For a moment I wondered how Meryl had bagged such a hottie.

  ‘I’ve ad ’er ’usband on the phone,’ said Ethel. ‘Did she tell yer she was married?’

  Luke looked terrified. He got his flies done up, and pulled on a t-shirt. Ethel yanked open the curtains and the light poured in.

  ‘Mum, please!’ groaned Meryl. Luke grabbed his jacket and came to the door. Adam put an arm out to stop him, but he ducked under and was down the stairs in a flash. A moment later the front door slammed.

  ‘Now you listen to me young lady,’ said Ethel looming over Meryl. ‘I didn’t bring you up to go round the pubs getting up to all sorts, bringing home waifs and strays, it’s disgusting! And you should know better Coco.’

  ‘She was on her own when we came back,’ I said.

  ‘An’ to think I told your Tony not to worry. I ’ad him on the blower sayin’ you were up to all sorts with a barman at some Italian pub called Allbaroné.’

  ‘It was All Bar One,’ I said.

  ‘Tony said you put a picture on Facebook of you draped over that lad!’ said Ethel.

  ‘Only because he posted one of him and Mai Ling having dinner at the Harvester. Our Harvester!’ shouted Meryl.

  ‘’E said that was a business lunch! That Chinese girl’s Dad is flogging ’im some coffins!’

  ‘And you believe Tony over me?’ said Meryl.

  The argument went on, Meryl told Ethel that she’d missed out on life, that she made her marry Tony even though she didn’t want to.

  ‘Tony was a catch!’ said Ethel. ‘I’d ’ave given me eye teeth to marry an undertaker with a full ’ead of hair. There’s good money in death. ’Ave you ever wanted for nothing?’

  ‘I’ve wanted to experience life, like Coco!’ she shrilled.

  ‘Gawd, to think I’ve raised two kids who commit adultery!’ said Ethel.

  ‘Ha! I know you got pregnant with me before you were married!’ shouted Meryl. ‘I know your Dad sent you up to Scotland so no one would see the bump!’

  Then Ethel slapped her round the face. Meryl slumped back in the bed crying.

  ‘Stop it!’ I shrilled.

  ‘That’s it!’ Adam shouted. ‘You’re upsetting my wife, and no one is hitting anyone in my house!’

  ‘Oh! Your house, is it?’ said Ethel.

  ‘Right. Get out,’ he said. ‘Ethel. Get out.’

  ‘I’m not finished with you young lady,’ she said to Meryl. And still wearing her see-through rain hood she stalked past us and off down the stairs. The front door slammed again.

  ‘Thank you, Adam,’ said Meryl.

  ‘My patience is rapidly going with you too Meryl. You need to find somewhere else to live. Fast. My wife shouldn’t have to deal with this, she needs peace and quiet. She’s too nice to tell you to go, so I am.’ Adam then walked out. Tears were running down Meryl’s cheeks. I passed her a tissue.

  ‘I came quite alive under Luke’s touch,’ said Meryl wistfully.

  ‘When did he come over?’ I said, sitting on the end of the bed.

  ‘A little while after you went to bed. He climbed up the wisteria. It was so romantic.’

  ‘Were you safe?’

  ‘We used a French letter. Yes.’

  ‘Meryl, call it a condom for goodness’ sake,’ I said.

  ‘He was so solid and manly, Coco… And the things he did to me. I’ve only really read about them in the Daily Mail, and then they were described as obscene. But Luke made them wonderful…’

  ‘Okay. That’s enough info Meryl,’ I said getting up.

  ‘I suppose I just have to forget, don’t I? And go back to being me
,’ she said bitterly. ‘At least I’ll always have Allbaroné in my memories. No one can take that from me.’

  I patted her hand then left. I went and ran a bath. As I was soaking in the hot water, Adam came into the bathroom. He had an odd look on his face.

  ‘Cokes,’ he said. ‘Your phone rang, and I picked it up. It was the producer from ‘This Morning’…’

  ‘What?’

  ‘They’ve cancelled your interview.’

  ‘Oh,’ I said, crossing my arms over myself. Bad news seems even worse when you’re stark naked. ‘Did they say why?’

  ‘Yes…’

  ‘Well… what?’

  Adam paused. ‘They’ve booked Regina Battenberg instead. I’m sorry.’

  ‘But that slot was going to be priceless for my book sales. Why does she need more publicity!’ I heaved out of the bath, wrapped myself in a huge towel and phoned Angie. Chloe answered.

  ‘I’ve just heard my interview has been cancelled,’ I said.

  ‘Yes. Sorry you had to hear from the producer. I was about to phone you,’ said Chloe.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Well, a friend of mine is a producer on the show, and she heard that mum now represents Regina and, they decided to do a wine segment… And you’re pregnant, and Regina isn’t, and, well she is wine.’

  Chloe sounded really apologetic.

  ‘Coco I’m doing all I can to get you some press,’ she added.

  ‘What about Angie? Isn’t she my agent?’

  ‘Yes of course she is.’

  ‘Can I speak to her?’ I said.

  ‘She’s out right now.’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘She’s at the Groucho club with Regina…’

  ‘Of course she is,’ I said. ‘Can you get her to phone me?’

  Chloe said she would pass on the message, and I hung up.

  Thursday 5th April

  Agent Fergie has slumped to #108,984 on Amazon.

  Angie hasn’t returned my call. Maybe I’m just a one-hit wonder.

  Meryl has been in bed since yesterday, sulking and lamenting her youth. She’s lost interest in everything, including Wilfred. There was a brief moment of excitement when Tony rang, but he only wanted to know how to switch on the rice cooker.

  ‘You rang me for that!’ she screamed. ‘Shouldn’t Mai Ling know how to cook fucking rice?’ She slammed down the phone and ran upstairs.

  Adam told me not to watch Regina Battenberg on ‘This Morning’, saying it would only make me feel depressed. So at ten-thirty this morning, we were sitting in the living room. The television was off, and we were trying to lose ourselves in the newspapers.

  ‘She’ll be on now,’ I said glaring longingly at the blank screen.

  ‘What good will it do to watch it?’ said Adam. We went back to our newspapers.

  Suddenly the theme tune for ‘This Morning’ blared out from the portable TV in Meryl’s room, and we heard Phillip Schofield introduce Regina.

  Adam leapt off the sofa, ran upstairs, and told her to turn it down. The sound dropped and moments later he came back.

  ‘Did you see her? What was she wearing?’ I asked.

  ‘Pyjamas.’

  ‘Not Meryl, Regina!’

  ‘I didn’t see her,’ said Adam.

  Minutes ticked by.

  ‘This is torture,’ I said. ‘I’m going to watch.’ I grabbed the remote then put it down. ‘ No, I won’t… Yes, I will. No, I won’t.’

  ‘Do you want to go out?’ suggested Adam. I nodded. We got up and then Meryl started screaming from the spare room. We ran upstairs and burst in.

  ‘Look!’ she cried pointing at the television on top of the chest of drawers. ‘It’s chaos in the studio!’

  Regina’s ‘This Morning’ interview had indeed turned chaotic. Pippin had latched onto Phillip Schofield’s ear with his sharp little teeth. Holly Willougby was standing beside him helplessly, smoothing her long blonde hair and looking past the camera for help from the studio floor. Regina had Pippin in her arms and was standing over Phillip trying to separate them.

  ‘Now Pippin! Be nice,’ she was saying. ‘He thinks your earpiece is a little mouse!’

  There was a close-up of Pippin’s crazed bug eyes.

  ‘Someone get him off!’ shouted Phillip Schofield. Blood was seeping from his ear into his immaculate silver hair.

  ‘I bet you didn’t have this trouble with Gordon the Gopher!’ said Regina trying to make light of the situation. The camera then zoomed in on Holly as she quickly went to an advert break.

  ‘They should have had you on, Coco. You would never have bitten Phillip Schofield’s ear,’ said Meryl seriously.

  When they came back from the advert break Regina and Pippin had left the studio, so had Phillip Schofield. He’d been rushed to the nearest hospital.

  Friday 6th April

  Agent Fergie is down to #140,458

  But Winetime Regina’s book, which has been published for nearly a year, has gone back into the chart at #20.

  I feel that I can’t escape what is happening. Everywhere I look Regina Battenberg is there. I went to get the newspapers this morning and the ‘This Morning’ catastrophe was the main headline.

  The front page of the Sun carried the headline, BITTEN-BERG, and there was a grisly freeze frame of Pippin’s ‘sofa attack’ on Philip Schofield.

  The Express went for SOFA SAVAGED!

  The Mirror carried the same photo with the headline,

  PUT PIPPIN DOWN!

  I left the newsagent in disgust. When I came home Meryl was sitting in front of my laptop in the kitchen.

  ‘Look Coco, I’ve joined my first Facebook group,’ she announced.

  The SAVE PIPPIN Facebook group has ten thousand members and counting.

  ‘Apparently a journalist at the Mirror is calling for Pippin to be put down,’ she said.

  ‘I’ve seen. I don’t want to talk about this,’ I said.

  ‘But don’t you want to save Pippin?’ asked Meryl.

  ‘He won’t be put down,’ I said.

  ‘But if you join this Facebook group we can make sure,’ she said. ‘Look I’ll log you in. What’s your password?’

  ‘No it’s okay.’ I said.

  ‘Just tell me your password and I can do the rest.’

  ‘No Meryl.’

  ‘Come on Coco, support a cause.’

  Something in me snapped. I ranted at Meryl for ten minutes about what bullshit this all was. I said if she really wanted to support a cause, she should piss off back to Milton Keynes and save her marriage. I then came upstairs and locked myself in the bathroom.

  There was a knock at the door shortly afterwards. It was Meryl. She was standing in her coat with Wilfred.

  ‘Coco dear, I’m just going to be off.’

  Adam came up beside her.

  ‘You don’t seem yourself.’

  ‘I’m fine,’ I said.

  ‘Well be that as it may. Adam thought you might like a bit of space… I’ve arranged to go and stay with Daniel in Hampstead. Jennifer is off playing the bassoon on tour and I thought I could cook for him and we could spend some time together.’

  ‘Okay,’ I said.

  ‘Thank you, for everything,’ she said. ‘And I hope you feel better soon.’

  I gave her a hug and Adam took her off to get the hearse from Chris’s old house.

  Sunday 8th April

  Agent Fergie is down to #167,958

  Winetime is #7

  It was a gorgeous morning. Adam came up behind me when I was gloomily staring out of the kitchen window.

  ‘Come on love,’ he said putting his arms round me. ‘Let’s do something fun today. Let’s drive to Hampton Court Palace. It’s so sunny. You can put the audiobook of Agent Fergie on your iPod and we can listen on the way. I’m proud of you having this book published.’

  Chloe had emailed me the audiobook version, for my approval, ahead of its release next week. I’m not sure what I’m meant to do
with it, it’s already been recorded.

  ‘Okay,’ I nodded. He wiped a tear from my cheek and told me to get ready. I downloaded the file Chloe had sent onto my iPod, and just after eleven we set off in our new car. I was really looking forward to hearing the Agent Fergie audiobook, but we couldn’t fathom the stereo in our new car. It wasn’t until we neared Hampton Court Palace that I got the iPod to connect.

  ‘Fifty Shades of Grey, by E.L James,’ came the recorded voice through the stereo.

  ‘What?’ I said. I looked at my iPod.

  ‘Chloe sent me the wrong audiobook,’ I said pulling out the iPod lead, but it kept on playing.

  ‘It must have downloaded into the stereo, can it do that?’ I asked.

  ‘I dunno, that Atlas guy kitted the car out like a mini DJ booth,’ said Adam. I fiddled about, trying to turn it off, but the speaker lights started to flash and the audiobook began to boom out.

  ‘Jesus Coco! Turn it down!’ said Adam. I tried, but it got louder, unbearably loud. We pulled into Hampton Court Palace, and ground to a halt in a queue of cars trying to find spaces in the busy car park.

  ‘Find a space!’ I shouted. Adam started shouting but I couldn’t make it quieter. In a panic I pressed buttons wildly. The audiobook skipped forward to where Anastasia was being spanked on the bottom. It was desperately loud now. I had to open the window.

  ‘Pull over Adam!’ I said, ‘turn the engine off!’

  Christian Grey was now spanking Anastasia harder. Other cars in the queue were beeping; mothers with small children were unpacking picnics with scandalised looks on their faces.

  I opened the passenger door and it blared out like an explicit megaphone. I quickly slammed the door shut.

  ‘Turn the bloody engine off Adam!’ I shouted.

  ‘I have, the key is out!’ he said.

  ‘I know some people think it’s acceptable to listen to mummy porn!’ shouted one woman across the car park. She was holding her hands over her little girls’ ears. ‘But you could wear earphones!’