Coco Pinchard's Big Fat Tipsy Wedding: A Funny Feel-Good Romantic Comedy (15 page)

‘Listen love,’ she said. ‘I don’t wanna fight, I want to speak to Adam. I’ve tried ‘is mobile but ‘iss off.’

‘Why do you want to speak to him?’ I said.

‘Rosencrantz told me ‘es took to ‘is bed.’

‘Yes.’

'Can I talk to ‘im?’
 

‘You can try but nothing will raise him.’ I said. I took the phone upstairs and left it with Adam.

An hour later Adam came downstairs. He had showered and he brought with him the old bed sheets. I followed him into the utility room where he was stuffing them into the washing machine. I watched as he measured out the powder then switched it on. He turned, and gave me a kiss.

‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘I love you.’

‘I love you too.’ I said. ‘What did Ethel say?’

‘A few home truths.’
 

I don’t know how she managed to raise Adam from his bed, he’s even arranged to go into Natasha’s chambers and practise giving evidence.

February

Tuesday 1st February
 
12.45

TO: [email protected]

Adam had his preliminary hearing this morning at Southwark Crown Court, a huge anonymous brown brick building which sits with its back to the River Thames. A preliminary hearing is the court appearance before the trial proper. The accused enters their plea, and the details of the case are decided.

This was Adam’s second preliminary hearing; he had appeared back in December where he had entered a plea of not guilty.
 

The Judge was a grey, humourless man and seemed irritated to see Adam again. Despite Natasha’s best efforts, he only granted us an extra two weeks, agreeing now to hear the case on February the twenty-eighth.

 
We left the courtroom along a corridor full of pale clammy faced youths waiting to be tried. A couple raised their eyebrows at Adam in a look of solidarity. I grabbed his hand as we passed, hoping to show he is not a criminal and is loved by someone who shops in the Per Una section in Marks and Spencer, stupid, I know, but being in the court house reminded me how serious this all is.
 

It was raining when we came outside. Natasha had a little Associate with her, a young chap with a huge umbrella, who opened it for us all as we emerged from the giant flying canopy at the front of Southwark Court House.
 

'Two weeks isn’t much of an extension,’ I said.

‘I think for our defence strategy, it’s a very positive outcome,’ said Natasha. The little Associate holding the umbrella nodded sagely.

‘The more we look through the case files, and the police report, the more we see a lack of evidence against Adam,’ she said. ‘We have a very strong case. I’m itching to get in the courtroom and win!’

I wanted to hear more but Natasha’s car arrived and whisked her away to another appointment. We were thinking of walking back to Marylebone via the Thames Embankment but it really began to pour so we ran to the tube.

When we got home, Daniel was in my kitchen making a cup of tea!
 
By the breakfast bar stood a young lad in a suit far too big for him.

‘Um, what’s going on?’ I said.

‘I’m Lee, from McMahon Lettings,’ said the young lad.

‘You’re my Estate Agent?’ I said. He didn’t look old enough to buy cigarettes. 'I thought the viewing was this afternoon?’

‘Yeah, I had to move it,’ said Lee.

‘We found them on the doorstep,’ said Daniel pulling a couple of mugs from the kitchen cupboard.

'Who’s we and who’s them?’ I said.

‘Me and Mum… We came over to get some of our things, before you move house, and we saw young Lee here with Mr. Trattore, the guy who is viewing the house.’

‘So why are you both in here?’ I said.

‘Well, Mum said she knew the house better than any of us,’ said Daniel. ‘Would anyone else like tea?’

‘Ethel’s
is showing him round!
’ I shrilled.
 

‘Yeah,’ said Daniel. I dropped my bag and dashed out. ‘I thought she’d be good at it, a woman’s touch and all that,’ he shouted as I came upstairs. As I rounded the bannister, I heard Ethel’s voice in the bedroom.

‘Now in there thas’ the en suite, en suite is a French word, it means ‘avin a loo in the bedroom.’’ I went through as Ethel was demonstrating the bidet.

‘I’m not sure what it means in English, but you use it to wash yer arse,’ she said. A handsome and elegant Italian chap dressed in crisp dark jeans, and a striped shirt looked up with a smile on his face. He seemed to be amused by Ethel’s tour.

‘Oh, this is ‘er ‘oo I was telling you about,’ said Ethel.

'Hello Mrs. Pinchard,’ he said speaking with a rich accent. ‘I am Salvo Trattore. I think I would like to rent your beautiful home.’

‘Oh… wonderful, so you like the house?’ I said.

‘I love it, it’s very elegant.’
 

‘I thought it would be good to finish with the bidet,’ said Ethel signalling me to help her up off it.

We came back downstairs and Salvo shook hands with Adam and said he would have to be going. I took him to the front door where he said,

‘Does she come with the house?’

‘Who?’
 

‘The Housekeeper?’

I had to stop from smiling. ‘Ethel? Um, no afraid not. I’m taking her with me.’

‘That’s a shame… Good help is hard to find,’ he said. He kissed me on both cheeks, and drove off in a smart little Porsche. I came back into the kitchen as Adam was showing Daniel how to work the coffee machine.
 

‘’e looks ever so rich, that Italian,’ said Ethel. ‘’e seems like a lovely man. So refined.’

‘He wanted to know if you came with the house,’ I said.
 

‘You what?’ said Ethel.

‘He thought you were my housekeeper.’ Adam bit his lip to suppress a grin.

‘’e thought I was the Char Lady? I ‘ope you set ‘im straight?’

‘Yes, of course,’ I said.

‘The cheeky bastard. I’ll ave you know this dress is from Debenhams, and it weren’t cheap!’

Lee, the Estate Agent, who had been watching all of this said he would sort out the ‘paperwork and stuff’ then slunk off back to his office.

‘To think you’re paying him five percent and Mum did all the leg work,’ said Daniel. He pressed a button on the coffee machine and hot milk squirted out and hit the ceiling.

‘Why are you both here?’ I said irritably grabbing a cloth.

‘I came to get me salad spinner,’ said Ethel accusingly. ‘You’ve ‘ad it fer years.’
 

‘I gave mum a lift,’ said Daniel. I’ve never seen a piece of salad pass Ethel’s lips but I told him to try the attic. Daniel went up whilst Ethel stayed cooing over Adam.
 

‘Ow are yer bearin’ up love?’ she said. Adam told her about the hearing.

‘You’ll be fine,’ she said patting his hand. ‘We ‘ad a little pep talk on the phone dint we? I told you things would get better, ‘an they ‘ave. Thanks to me, Coco’s rented out ‘er ridiculously big ‘ouse.’

‘Adam was here when it happened, we don’t need your commentary.’ I said scrubbing milk off the ceiling.

‘See, Adam. See ‘ow she bites me ‘and ‘orf at every turn…’ Adam didn’t know what to say.

‘Course, I’m the one what always mends things between us. Did you ‘ere? She dumped me at Christmas, like one of them dogs in a cardboard box…’

‘What she doesn’t mention is I drove her to the airport and got her priority boarding,’ I said.

‘She should look after ‘er own, I know ‘er ‘an Danny are divorced but a Mother-in-law aint just fer Christmas, she’s fer life!’

Adam nodded along with her sagely whilst I cleared up the rest of Daniels mess.

Daniel finally came downstairs with Ethel’s manky old salad spinner, then my phone rang it was Lee the estate agent.

‘Mr. Trattore is going to rent for £4200 per calendar month,’ he said. ‘The price is a little higher than we advertised, because he’d like to move in on the fourth.'

'The fourth of March?' I said.

‘No, this Friday, the fourth,’ said Lee. I came off the phone in shock.

‘Where you gonna live?’ said Ethel.

‘We’re moving in with Marika,’ said Adam.

‘Ooh you’ll be just down the road from me!’ said Ethel. ‘And Adam, if yer need a salad spinner, you know where I am.’
 

It seems like I will never escape the old bag.

Thursday 3rd February
 
17.40

TO: [email protected]

I never imagined how I’d pack everything up and move. There are four generations worth of crap stored in this house. However, that myth was busted with one phone call to Big Yellow. They sent round a team of scarily efficient packers who had everything boxed up and in a giant van within six hours.

All I’ve kept is some clothes, toiletries, a few books, my laptop, and some paperwork I really can’t do without. Everything else will sit in a warehouse in East London for the next year.

Marika has gone ahead in the Land Cruiser with Rocco. It’s piled high with our stuff. Adam is in a meeting with one of Natasha’s associates, preparing for the court case.

Salvo Trattore is going to bring his own furniture. I’m sat in the living room and it’s really odd. I’ve never seen it empty before. It’s so big. I’ve walked from room to room and only really noticed the space.

I don’t know how we will cope in Marika’s back bedroom. How is Devon treating you?

Friday 4th February
 
11.03

TO: [email protected]

It was strange waking up in our new home this morning. Our room isn’t small but it’s piled high with our suitcases. Me, Adam and Rocco lay in bed for a few minutes, listening to a train click clack past outside the window, and then we crept out to the kitchen. Marika had left a note to say she would be working all morning. Her dog walking enterprise is really taking off and she’s making good money.
 

She had prepared us a welcome breakfast. A big plate of cheese, cold meat, some lovely crusty bread, and a little golden block of butter. There was a selection of Nespresso capsules, laid out next to her Nespresso machine, watched over by the life-size George Clooney cut out she got by bribing the guy in the Nespresso Store on Regent Street.

 
We now have our own shelf in the fridge, a space each in the bathroom cabinet, and there is a clipboard by the phone with a sheet of paper for us to write down who we call on the landline.
 

I was quite enjoying the novelty of sharing a house until I came out to the car to get a bag of shoes I’d left in the foot well of the back seat.
 

Someone had thrown a brick through the driver’s window and stolen them, along with the car radio and my Ray Bans, which were in the glove compartment. I have just moved the car to a spot outside the house and we’re waiting for someone to come and replace the window.

Now I miss home.

Friday 4th February
 
22.27

TO: [email protected]

After the car window was fixed, we went to report to a police station to say Adam had moved. However, we had a problem
finding
a police station. The local one round the corner had a sign outside saying that it’s only open on a Friday between 1.45pm and 2.30pm, and that it’s only manned by volunteers from the community. It was 2.50pm and two old ladies were outside. One was just locking up, whilst the other was carefully carrying a half completed jigsaw on a tea tray. I could see there hadn’t been much crime fighting going on. They were very sweet though, and suggested we try the nearest Police Station which was in Sydenham.
 

When we arrived we discovered Sydenham Police Station has just been converted to a Pizza Express. After a rest, a glass of wine and a plate of dough balls we drove over to the mega Police Station in Lewisham.
 

Prisoners were being ferried in and out at alarming rate, and we had to wait three hours before someone on the desk could see us.
 

We got to Marika’s at seven, but heard she was occupied in the bedroom. She’s started dating a fellow dog walker who she met at a drinking trough on Hilly Fields common (Their dogs were the ones doing the drinking).

In the small flat, we couldn’t escape the soundtrack of Marika’s bedroom Olympics, so Adam suggested we take Rocco for a walk.
 

There wasn’t much to look at on a cold dark night in February. Adam took my hand and we walked past a long row of terraced houses broken up by corner shops and Chinese take-aways. It was very depressing.

'How much further do you want to go?' I moaned. ‘We’ve been on our feet all day.’

'I can’t go back to Marika shagging some bloke. He’s going to come out of her room and want to shake my hand - and I don’t want to have to think where its been.'

I laughed and he put his arm round me as we passed a row of shops. There was a small supermarket called ‘Mr. Gogi’s’, a key cutter, a launderette, and a Post Office. We carried on past the train station and came to a set of gates with a path leading up into a wooded area. Once inside we let Rocco off the lead and scampered excitedly up the path. We followed him up a long set of steps and came to the most beautiful church. It was small with a tall spire, and in the moonlight, the flint walls sparkled. Candles glowed invitingly through the stained glass windows in soft reds, blues and greens.

'Shall we go inside?' I said.

'What about Rocco?' said Adam.

'I’ll stick him in my coat.’

Inside the church, it was so peaceful. Not that outside was particularly loud, but the everyday hum of traffic ceased when we walked through the door. We made our way down the aisle to sit in one of the wooden pews. It smelt of dust and incense and wasn’t overly grand, but simple and beautiful. There was a fresh spray of lilies on the altar, and the stone arches were smooth sandstone, with carvings on the ceiling.

I felt so safe and relaxed. I took Adam’s hand and without thinking said,

'Wouldn’t it be wonderful to get married here?' He turned to look at me. 'This isn’t a proposal,' I added quickly. Adam carried on staring. 'All I meant is that this church would be nice for a wedding…’