Coco Pinchard's Big Fat Tipsy Wedding: A Funny Feel-Good Romantic Comedy (11 page)

'You know Ethel! You're supposed to be on my side!'

‘You asked me to tell them the truth so I told them the truth!'
 

 
'Well, if you’re in the mood to tell the truth, tell them about quitting your job!' I said. Adrianna and Stevko looked shocked. I'd forgotten they understood English. 'Damn! Sorry Marika!'

'You quit your job?' said Adrianna, and then repeated it in Slovak. Suddenly all hell broke loose. Blazena slammed her fist down on the table and started shouting at Marika, her face turning purple. Marika started shouting back in Slovak. Blazena then leapt up and lunged at Marika, but being a large woman, didn't account for her girth and as she lunged, she tipped the whole table towards me and Fero. The huge fish slid of the plate and into my lap. Glasses, bowls and plates crashed to the floor slopping creamy soup and potato salad over everything. Marika screamed and ran out followed by Blazena. Adrianna and Stevko went after them and I sat in shock with a lap full of fish.

Fero leant over and topped up the glass I still had in my hand.

'Nazdravie!' he grinned and downed his brandy in one.

Two hours have passed and the row, which I can’t understand, is still raging. I’ve shut myself in the bedroom with Rocco who is terrified.

Rosencrantz just sent a text saying;

MERRY XMAS MUM. LOVE U - UR WONDERFUL
 
- THANX FOR MY KINDLE !
 

And Daniel just sent a text saying;

PICKED UP MUM AT LUTON. SHE’S VERY UPSET. YOU WENT TOO FAR THIS TIME - DANIEL.

Rocco is curled up on my chest with his head tucked under my chin. Thank god dogs don't judge us.
 

Merry Christmas - Coco x

Wednesday 29th December
 
20.18

TO: [email protected]

Marika finally came to the bedroom in the early hours of Christmas Day and shook me awake.

'I'm still mad at you but I need you to drive,’ she hissed. ‘I’m not staying a moment longer in the same place as my mother.’

'It's three in the morning,' I said.

‘I don’t care. We're leaving!'

I quickly gathered my things together. Fero was asleep on armchair in the living room, which still had the Christmas dinner strewn across the carpet. Blazena had locked herself in the bathroom with her Rosary beads. Adrianna and Stevko came down with us in the lift.

‘We’re leaving too,’ said Stevko. ’I nearly dislocated my shoulder pulling Blazena off Marika.’

‘What was she doing?’ I said.

‘Beating me with a bible,’ said Marika without humour.

‘I’m sorry,’ I said. 'I've ruined your Christmas.'

'No you didn’t,’ grinned Adrianna. ‘Something always sets mum off… Last year it was because Fero forgot to buy the tartare sauce.’

‘So she slapped him round the head with the fish,’ said Stevko.
 

‘I don’t think Marika will ever speak to me again,’ I said as she stalked off into the car park. Stevko hugged me and ruffled Rocco's tired little head. Adrianna hugged me too.

‘Come back when the weather is nice,’ she said. ‘We’ll go to the house again.’

I drove slowly, in silence, in the pitch black and snow. Marika barking directions at me with Rocco on her lap. When the snow got too thick and driving became terrible, we stopped at a petrol station for coffee.
 

'I'm sorry,’ I said. 'I'm really really sorry.'

'My mother was bound to find out some time. It just might have been better over the phone,’ said Marika.

'She really went for you,' I said.
 

'She's a crazy bitch, she really got me with that bible,’ said Marika rubbing her head bitterly. ‘But it's
all
okay, she'll go to confession on Sunday, slip the Priest a euro and in the eyes of God everything is forgiven.'

‘Where are we headed?’ I said.

‘Somewhere that makes me happy.’
 

We stayed in the petrol station until the sun came up over the hills. A snowplough had been past a few times, so the rest of the journey was smooth.
 

We entered Bratislava by a motorway bridge over the Danube. There’s something about arriving in a city just before the sun comes up. The roads are empty, the sky cobalt blue. You feel as if it all belongs to you.

Marika guided us to a large boat moored by the Danube. It had three decks of white railings and a light shone by the entrance.

‘What’s this?’ I said.

‘Our hotel.’

It was a Botel, rather than a hotel. A small pleasure cruiser, now permanently tethered to the bank of the Danube which whipped past with surprising ferocity. The Botel is an old haunt of Marika’s, she used to stay there a lot as a teenager when she came clubbing in Bratislava.

The woman on reception looked a little surprised to see us when we staggered in just after six in the morning. She hurriedly swallowed the last of her breakfast and fumbled on a board covered in keys to allocate us a room each. Even Rocco was welcome, I thought I might have to smuggle him in my handbag.

The last few days have been heaven, wandering through Bratislava. The old town is full of elegant buildings painted in bright pastel colours, like rows of sumptuous cakes decorated in smooth royal icing.

We’ve done the same thing every day. Wake up late, eat a huge breakfast and then walk to the main square in the old town and choose a cafe, where, we’ve sat drinking endless cups of coffee and smoking.
 

Two days passed before I realised we hadn’t really said much to one another. We are in Cafe Mayer, which has the air of a 17th century French salon
film; all pink and decadent with a soaring ceiling.
 

‘Why do we do it?’ I said.

‘Do what?’ said Marika.

‘Christmas…’

‘Well, we don’t really have a choice.’
 

‘We do!
 
Yet we spend an inordinate amount of time preparing events for people we wouldn’t spend ten minutes with any other day of the year.’

We carried on smoking for a bit.

‘You know, you can stay with me,’ I said. ‘If you need to rent your flat out.’

Marika smiled. ‘Thanks… I don’t know what I’m going to do about a job.’

‘Well, you’re not going to panic,’ I said. ‘You can stay as long as you need to.’

‘Maybe I could start a company offering Christmas breaks, like what we’re doing now,’ said Marika.

‘What? The anti-Christmas package deal?’ I said.

‘Yes, no relations or acquaintances allowed. Just time spent relaxing, with friends.’

Rocco barked.

 
‘And pets, of course’ said Marika.
 

‘We’ve done nothing for the last few days and its been the best Christmas since… well since Rosencrantz was little,’ I said.

We watched the empty square as snow began to fall.

‘Come on, lets do a bit more nothing,’ said Marika. ‘We’ve got to get back to the real world soon,’ and she ordered us more cake and coffee.

Thursday 30th December
 
14.08

TO: [email protected]

On our last night in Bratislava we got dressed up and went to the UFO. A huge circular restaurant which sits high above Bratislava on top of a bridge. The Waiter, at first, said we couldn’t come in with a dog, but I pretended I was the wife of the British Ambassador and Marika pulled out her Slovak I.D card and pretended she was the sister of Dara Rolincova (a famous singer in Slovakia who shares her surname).
 

‘To 2011 being the most incredible year,’ said Marika when we were sat looking out over a panoramic view of the city.

‘Where we move forward successfully, you away from teaching,’ I said.
 

‘And you away from Adam,’ said Marika. ‘You’ll have to get over him sometime Cokes, better to do it now than waste more of your life.’
 

I took a deep breath and we toasted to the future.

We’re just about to start the long drive home. We should be back tomorrow afternoon, will you be back from the Ice Hotel Chris?

Coco x

Friday 31st December
 
15.43

TO: [email protected]

Me and Marika are home. We’re going to have a sleep and then do you want to come over and bring in the new year?

PS You’ll also need to bring some booze.

January 2011

Monday 3rd January
 
08.28

TO: [email protected]

Happy New Year! I’m full of beans at the thought of a fresh start, new challenges, and moving forward. I spent New Year’s Eve with Chris and Marika, and we agreed to make big changes to our lives.
 

Chris had a rather spiritual Christmas at the Ice Hotel. He was deeply moved by the Northern Lights, which appeared several times during his stay. On his last night, he saw a vivid image of Judi Dench’s face amongst the aurora. He’s convinced this means great things are in his future as a Theatre Director.
 

On New Year’s Eve, we stayed in and watched the movie
In Her Shoes
with Cameron Diaz and Toni Collette.

This has inspired Marika to change career direction completely, and become a Dog Walker. She’s moving into my spare room and is out now tramping the streets of Marylebone distributing leaflets.

I am going to channel all my energy into forgetting about Adam, and concentrate on my career and the launch of
Agent Fergie
. This year is all about moving forward!

Coco x

Monday 3rd January
 
09.11

TO: [email protected]

I was putting down an old sheet of newspaper for Rocco to pee on, when I noticed this article;

LOCAL MAN CHARGED WITH FRAUD. Metropolitan Police last night arrested and charged an NW1 resident in connection to a £200,000 business fraud. Police questioned Adam Rickard 38, of Baker Street for several hours before releasing him on bail pending a court appearance. The fraud pertains to an eleven-month period Mr. Rickard spent working at XYZ Event Management as a Heath & Safety Officer.

The article is from The Marylebone Comet, dated November 17th last year — the same time Adam ended our relationship.
 

Monday 3rd January
 
11.12

TO: [email protected]

I have more news. Rosencrantz popped in on his way to an audition and found me staring at the newspaper article.

‘Jeez Mum, this is huge!’ he said. I told him I had been trying Adam’s phone number, but it seems to be disconnected.

‘You want me to help you find him?’ said Rosencrantz.

‘What about your audition?’ I said.

‘I can be late,’ he said taking off his coat and booting up my laptop. ‘It’s only for a corporate video about the dangers of asbestos inhalation…’
 

It took Rosencrantz a mere thirty-seven minutes to track down Adam’s whereabouts. He friended Adam’s daughter Holly on twitter. She’s on a gap year in America (a gap from what? The last I heard she was doing a two-week cake decorating course at Watford College) anyway, it seems money talks and when we suggested emailing her a hundred pounds via PayPal, she sang like a canary.
 

I stood over Rosencrantz's shoulder whilst we waited for Holly to instant message the address.

‘Is this a good idea Mum?’ he said. ‘What if Adam is guilty? He dumped you, and he’s guilty?’

‘I can't imagine Adam would steal a two hundred thousand pounds.’

‘Spoken like a true naive woman.’

‘I’m not naive!’

‘Well, you thought butter wouldn't melt in Dad's mouth, then you caught him in bed with his mouth...’

‘Rosencrantz!’

‘Just saying…’
 

‘No. I have to go and see him, I need to talk to him, if only to get closure.’

‘Oh I see,’ said Rosencrantz. ‘That’s what you’re calling it,
closure
. Well, just don’t get carried away and let him put his closure in your mouth.’

‘Rosencrantz! I’m not one of your friends you can talk to that way,’ I said. Then there was a little plinking noise as Holly’s message came through.

‘Hurry, open it!’ I said. Rosencrantz clicked on the message, and the following address popped up;

14 The Street

Rochester

Kent

ME1 6BV

‘What? What’s he doing in
Rochester
?’ I said.

‘Where is Rochester?’ said Rosencrantz.

‘Couple of hours outside London… Why would he be there?’

‘Holly says she would be willing to give you a full breakdown of her father’s movements for another two hundred,’ said Rosencrantz reading off the screen.

’She’s a money-grubbing little minx,’ I said. ‘But I’ll bear it in mind. First, I’m going to drive to Rochester. Attempt the element of surprise. Can you look after Rocco?’ He was curled up asleep on Rosencrantz’s lap.
 

‘Yes, my asbestos inhalation role can wait!’ He said. ‘And Mum…’

‘What?’

‘Don’t do anything stupid.’ Rocco opened one little eye, as if in agreement with Rosencrantz. I just nodded and grabbed the car keys.
 

By some miracle, I’ve cracked how to work the built in GPS screen in the Land Cruiser, but I’m stuck in a long line of traffic on the M25.

Ooh, the traffic is moving, better go…

Tuesday 4th January
 
10.12

TO: [email protected]

I made it to Rochester by lunchtime. It was a world away from London with a cobbled high street and several antique showrooms. An old man with a twirly moustache doffed his Panama as I passed. How did Adam end up here?

I found the address, a terraced house on a lane running parallel to the high street. Smoke curled from a chimney as I opened the gate. A low shiny black door confronted me at the end of the path. My heart climbed into my throat as I reached out for the huge knocker, but the door opened and there stood Adam.
 

There was an awkward silence, it went on and on, and we just stared at each other. He was thinner with big bags under his eyes, but my heart skipped along a little faster at the sight of him. I finally blurted out,