Coco Pinchard's Big Fat Tipsy Wedding: A Funny Feel-Good Romantic Comedy (10 page)

 
It was warm and beautifully decorated. The tree was covered in an exquisite set of fairy lights, the bulbs were hand painted in pale colours and cast a magical hue against the white walls. I counted seven statues of Jesus, three had tinsel adorning his crown of thorns and the biggest one on top of the television was wearing a Santa hat. Blazena sat us at a long dining table and we were given hot chicken soup, followed by roast duck, potatoes and cabbage; it was all delicious, even little Rocco was given a small bowl of duck liver that he wolfed down and then fell asleep under the Christmas tree.
 

We ate and ate as Blazena talked and talked, mainly to grill Marika. She asked why hasn’t she found a husband? Is she keeping her flat clean? When is her next promotion? Marika went pale and answered as best she could. Every time the wind blew round the block of flats the plastic crackled loudly and Blazena cursed the ceiling with a waggling hand.
 

Then when we thought we could eat no more, the doorbell started ringing and a stream of elderly ladies came in bearing Christmas tidings and baked goods. It seemed every time I opened my mouth a cake or pastry was being shoved in it.

When it got dark, and the last of the old ladies left, myself Marika and Ethel took Rocco for a walk in the communal garden. I looked up and saw that all the balconies outside the flats had been removed for the building work. Several of the neighbours had their balcony doors open, and one lady was sat on the step in a big coat smoking a cigarette with her legs dangling above a five storey drop.
 

'Isn't that terribly dangerous, and a Health and Safety risk?' I said.

'Not in Slovakia,’ said Marika. ‘The thought is, that if you’re stupid enough to not see the huge drop outside your kitchen door then you’re stupid enough to plunge to your death.’

 
Myself, Marika, Ethel and Rocco are all sharing the guest room. I’m just lying on the bed trying to digest the five thousand calories I’ve consumed. Then in an hour we’re going to have our evening meal. goulash and dumplings. I think I’m going to pop.

Friday 24th December
 
05.30

TO: [email protected]

I woke in the middle of the night. There was a scratching noise and a ragged whisper saying my name. I sat up in bed. A thin line of moonlight escaped from the bottom of the curtain in the guest room. Beside me (we’re sharing a double bed) Marika slept soundly. Rocco was in the gap between us lying on his back, his furry little chest slowly rising and falling. Ethel was just an indistinct lump of covers on the camp bed in the corner. I must have been dreaming, I thought.
 

I lay back down and closed my eyes, but I heard my name again, now in a low menacing growl. My blood froze. Why wasn't Rocco waking up? I shook Marika, but she wouldn't wake up either. I sat up again and noticed the room was freezing. My breath streamed out in a mist. The knocking came again, insistent,

'
Coco, please, it's so cold,
’ rasped the voice.
 

Despite my terror, I slowly got out of bed, and came out into the hallway. The living room and bedroom doors leading off it were closed. I jumped as a walking stick hanging on the back of the front door rattled.
 

'Coco! Open up!’ rumbled the voice knocking harder. 'It's so cold.'

My heart was in my throat as I edged closer to the door. It was even colder in the hallway, my skin was stinging.
Any moment I’ll wake up
, I thought as I slowly reached out and turned the key.
 

The front door swung inwards and a terrible figure lurched towards me. It had wide bloodshot eyes and a sunken mouth. It was white from head to foot and dressed in some kind of robes.
 

'You took your bloody time,' it growled. I screamed, my knees gave way, and then everything went black.

It was bright when I woke up. Coloured lights swam into my vision and I was lying under the Christmas tree. I could hear Rocco barking and Marika’s face came into view.

'Coco! Are you all right? I was so worried.' She said holding out a glass of brandy. Rocco rushed forward and started to lick my face. I took the glass and slowly sat up. Ethel was on the sofa with a towel round her. Blazena was wiping what looked like plaster dust off her face with a flannel and a bowl of hot water.
 

'Ethel got up for a cigarette,' said Marika. 'She forgot that there isn't a balcony and fell into a skip full of polystyrene and plaster dust.'

Fero was fiddling with the radiator trying to warm up the flat. I stared at Ethel.

‘Jesus! Are you all right?' I said.

'I made it back up in the lift, I'm fine,' said Ethel, sheepishly. 'I survived the blitz you know.' Blazena took Ethel’s grubby hands in hers and started talking, and wiping tears from her eyes.

‘Woss she sayin’?’ said Ethel.

'She's very upset,’
 
said Marika. 'She thinks she’s a terrible hostess, allowing one of her guests to fall out of the kitchen.’

‘Iss fine love,' said Ethel patting Blazena's hand. 'It was like landing on an eiderdown.’
 

‘I thought she was a ghost!’ I said, taking a big gulp of brandy.

‘Yeah I'm the ghost of Christmas future love, I predict you'll get stuck into the Quality Street and end up with an arse twice its size!' said Ethel. She let out a cackling laugh which turned into a coughing fit. Blazena said something to Marika.

‘Mum thinks Ethel should go to hospital.’

‘No, iss just a bit of plaster dust,’ said Ethel descending into another coughing fit.

‘Maybe she should go,’ said Marika.

We all piled into my car and drove Ethel to Nitra hospital. It was very modern and clean and she was whisked through a series of scans and blood tests by a nice male Doctor who even spoke English.

‘This woman is in perfect health!’ said the Doctor, in English, as if Ethel were some kind of medical miracle.

 
Blazena clasped her chest in delight and gave a prayer of thanks. I kept my mouth shut. How does Ethel keep cheating death when everyday perfectly wonderful people die in terrible accidents?

We finally got to bed at five in the morning.

Friday 24th December
 
22.45

TO: [email protected]

It seems a near death experience hasn’t given Ethel much pause for thought. She’s still the same moaning old bag she was before she plunged four storeys into a skip. From the moment she woke up this morning, she’s moaned. She’s moaned about the food, she’s moaned about the water being too hard, and her bed being too soft. She’s moaned about the television being switched off and that she’s missing
Noel’s Christmas Presents
. She’s even moaned about Blazena and the fact she hasn’t washed her hands properly before cooking! She’s also convinced Marika’s family is talking about her behind her back. They’re not, of course, they’re just concerned after what happened last night.
 

In Slovakia the Christmas Day tradition is to fast all day and then eat a meal of fish and potato salad in the evening. At 2pm to try and distract Ethel from whining about this I suggested we Skype Daniel.

‘Ooh yeah, I miss my Danny boy,’ said Ethel. I put my laptop on the living room table as Daniel pinged into view. He was sat in his flat, in Croydon!

'Hey Mum, Cokes,' he said. He was lolling on his sofa in his dressing gown with a can of lager.

'Why aren't you at Meryl's?' I said.

‘Oh, she's been discharged from hospital.’

'She's better?' I said.

'Yeah. It seems all she needed was a couple of good nights sleep and some pills.'

'What about Wilfred?'

'Tony's brother and sister stayed on. The roads were cleared, so I offered to come home and lighten the load.' He opened a tin of Quality Street, put on his glasses, and started reading the little card with all the different chocolate descriptions.

‘Didn’t anyone think to tell us?’ I said.

'Look at that,' he said ignoring me. 'They got rid of the Peanut Cracknel and the Chocolate Toffee Cup… ooh but there's a couple of new ones!'

'I'm bloody missing everything being stuck 'ere!’ said Ethel. Blazena came in with a beautiful little plate of fresh fruit she sliced especially for her, but she turned up her nose saying,

‘Yer lucky getting Christmas on yer own Danny. This lot eat
fish
for Christmas lunch. FISH! No Turkey, or spuds, or sprouts!’

‘Ooh fish, that’s an idea. Hey I might get Sushi,' Daniel grinned. ‘And eat it under the Christmas tree with my tin of Quality Street. Remember Coco, you always used to say that would be your dream Christmas lunch!’
 

Something snapped in me, and I pressed
end call.

'Ere, get Danny back on the blower,' said Ethel. 'I want to find out what them new Quality Streets are... What yer doing?'
 

I had logged onto Ryanair's website.

'Ere that's today,' she said as she saw me click
departure date
on the 24th December.

'Marika,' I called out. 'Would you please get Ethel's passport from our room.'
 

A moment later she came through with the passport.

'Ere, very funny Coco,' said Ethel. She watched me booking her a flight leaving from Bratislava Airport in three hours time.
       

'Now ‘ang on…’ she said.
 

‘What are you doing Cokes?’ said Marika.

 
‘Giving Ethel what she wants… Priority boarding YES. Wheelchair assistance YES. Insurance NO. Car hire NO.’ I hit
confirm purchase
and then
print
for her boarding pass.

'Right Ethel. We're leaving in ten minutes,’ I said.
 

'Why did yer do that?’! she said her mouth flapping in shock.

'You've moaned all day about being here, in front of me and Marika and Blazena and Fero. Think of it as my christmas gift to you.'

Ethel stared at me open mouthed. I went to the guest room and began to pack her suitcase. A few minutes later, she came in.

'I don't think I should go,’ she said.

'Well, you should have thought of that.'
 

Then Marika came in.

‘Coco is Ethel really going back to London?’

‘Yes,’ I said zipping up her wash bag and putting it in her case.

‘What should I tell my Mother?’

‘Tell her Ethel wants to be at home with family, her daughter is ill… It’s the truth.’ I’ve never seen Ethel lost for words and she watched open mouthed as I fastened the suitcase.

 
A few minutes later Blazena knocked on the door and came in with some food wrapped up. She wiped tears from her eyes and wished Ethel well with her sick daughter.
 

‘Um… Marika, tell yer Mum, thanks for ‘avin me,’ she said in a small voice.

We took the lift down in silence. Marika looked between Ethel and me awkwardly. When we were outside I loaded up her case and brusquely cleaned ice off the car.

When we were on the motorway, I dialled Daniel's mobile number and put my phone on loudspeaker. I told him that Ethel would be arriving at Luton Airport at nine thirty this evening, and that he must pick her up. He started shouting, but I hung up.

We made it to Bratislava Airport in just over forty-five minutes and I pulled into the car park. It was quiet with the most beautiful starry sky.

'Ethel,’ I said turning to her. 'Merry Christmas.'
 

She opened her mouth to say something but thought better and got out. Marika followed and helped her with her case into the Airport Terminal.

Half an hour later Marika came back. I was on my fifth cigarette, all the adrenalin was flowing away and guilt was taking over.

'She went through security and they've got her in a wheelchair to take her on the plane,’ she said awkwardly.

‘We should make sure the plane takes off okay,’ I said. We sat smoking in silence until the plane rose above the glass terminal and off into the sky, its lights winking in the darkness.

‘Shit, Coco. I can’t believe you did that. You stood up to Ethel,’ said Marika.

‘Or did I just turn an old woman away at Christmas?’ I said chewing my lip.

'Depends how you look at it,’ said Marika. ‘It's not English Christmas Day until tomorrow. It's still Christmas Eve. And you got her Priority Boarding.'

'She has had it coming for SO long,’ I said, but I didn’t sound convinced.

Dinner was being served when we arrived back at the flat, and Marika’s sister Adrianna and her husband Stevko were there.

‘Coco! It’s wonderful to see you again,’ said Adrianna giving me a huge hug, she looked as dark and gorgeous as I remembered her.

‘You look great,’ said Stevko, equally dashing. We took our seats at the table, where a whole fish had been steamed and beautifully garnished, surrounded by bowls of soup and potato salad. We said a short prayer in Slovak, then Blazena turned her attention to me and started speaking earnestly.

'Did Ethel leave because of falling off the balcony?' translated Marika.

'No,' I said.

'Does she hate the Slovak people?'

'Not at all!’
 

'Was it because the flat isn't good enough, or are they not good enough?' translated Marika again. I felt very awkward. Blazena began to cry. She wiped her face with the back of her hand. I made Marika tell them the truth, which took several minutes. Afterwards they sat in silence.
 

‘I can’t believe we missed meeting Ethel,’ said Adrianna. ‘Now I’m more intrigued than ever.’

Blazena started making the sign of the cross and muttering darkly. Stevko raised his eyebrows at me.

'She says she is praying for Ethel, a child of the Lord, all alone on Christmas Day,' translated Marika. 'She says even the innkeeper let Mary and Joseph stay in the Manger.'

'I hope you told it right,' I said.
 

'I tried to spin it as best I could, but the fact is you did chuck out an old woman at Christmas.’