Coco Pinchard's Big Fat Tipsy Wedding: A Funny Feel-Good Romantic Comedy (27 page)

'My mobile doesn’t have a signal here,' I said. ‘I thought you were in America?’

‘Well I’m not,’ she said earnestly, in case I hadn’t worked it out. ‘My Work Visa ran out.’ She came into the living room with a huge handbag hooked over her tiny wrist.
 

Have you met Holly? She is beautiful and willowy but rather thick.
 

'Is there really no signal?' she said getting out her iPhone. ‘How do you ask Siri?’

‘Siri?’

‘You know on the iPhone… I ask her everything. Where to eat, what to do on my days off, where I can get my nails done.’

‘Well, you can ask her to get your luggage in,’ I said indicating the front door and her pile of cases in the hall.
 

'What?'
 

'I’m not room service. I take it you’re staying here?’

‘Well, yeah. You’re dad’s… dad’s…’

‘I’m his fiancé,’ I said.

‘Then yeah I’m staying, if that’s okay?’ I said it was fine. Rocco emerged from the garden and started barking at her.

‘Wow what’s that?' she said.

'Rocco, my dog,' I said. He barked louder and advanced on her, she jumped to her feet.

‘What’s he doing?’ she said. Rocco circled her, rounding her up like a herd of sheep to the front door and her suitcases.

He sat in the threshold of the door and barked at her.
 

'He wants you to bring your suitcases in,’ I said. Holly looked at him uneasily and reached for her case. Satisfied Rocco trotted off and let her haul her stuff inside. I was impressed. My little Maltese pup had achieved more than two parents with open cheque books have managed in a lifetime. To show I wasn’t a complete cow, I ran Holly a bath, and whilst she was soaking, I rustled up some cheese on toast with a glass of wine. I was sat outside in the garden when she emerged in a long LA Lakers football shirt, cut off denim shorts and her hair in a towel. She looked stunning. She came and sat on one of the Moet seats and started picking at her cheese on toast.

‘I like your garden,’ she said. ‘It reminds me of the Polo Lounge, in LA…’ I looked at the astro turf, broken washing machine, and my old flip-flops on the floor and decided she was being polite.

‘So what happened with your Visa?’ I said.

‘Well, I got my American Work Visa and my Visa Card mixed up… My Visa Card expires in 2014, and that’s when I thought I could stay in America until. I told the cop this, but they still had me deported.

‘Why were you stopped by the police?’ I said.

‘I was Jaywalking on Hollywood Boulevard.’

‘And what were you doing in LA?’

‘I was working for a bit. I was kind of a cake decorator slash model. I stopped modelling because of all the chauvinistic men. Then I started working for this cake decorating company and the owner was just as bad, he called me a stupid girl!’

‘Why?’ I said.

‘I mixed the wrong red for the icing on a Spiderman cake… I mean isn’t red, red?’

‘So what did you do after that? I have a good idea because that Visa card you were talking about is in your father’s name ,and I’m paying the bill.’

‘Yeah, about that, I’m gonna get a job. I’ll pay you back,’ she smiled. It was a warm lovely smile and I almost envied her being on a different planet, the fact her life is all over the place and it doesn’t seem to bother her.

She wanted to know when she could visit Adam and I told her we could arrange it for when I go next week. Unexpectedly, she got up and gave me a hug.

‘Of all the women Dad has slept with, you’re the nicest,’ she said. Again, I think this was a compliment. She said she was jet lagged so I found some extra blankets and made up the sofa for her. Then I came back out here with my laptop. It is such a beautiful warm evening and apart from the noise of Holly snoring in the living room, it’s idyllic.

I have no idea how long she is here for. As always, she is a bit vague…
 

Anyway, I’m off to bed.
 

Love you - Cokes xxx

Friday 18th June
 
09.41

TO: [email protected], [email protected]

Holly surprised me this morning with a cup of coffee and a little plate of cupcakes with red icing and chocolate sauce drizzled over.

‘Happy birthday,’ she said. ‘Look I made you Spiderman cupcakes…’

‘How appropriate for the birthday of a forty-six year old woman,’ I smiled sitting up in bed.

'Who’s forty-six?’ she said innocently.

‘Me,’ I said.

‘Oh my god, that’s so
old!
’

I stopped grinning. ‘When did you make these?’ I said. ‘And where did you find all the ingredients?’

‘I went to that shop round the corner. I didn’t have any money but the man was
so
nice…
 
he told me I could pay him later.’

‘He gave you the stuff for free?’

‘No, I have to pay for it eventually,’ she said twisting a length of hair between her delicate fingers. I couldn’t believe it. Mr. Gogi in the corner shop is as tight as a duck’s arse. Once he wouldn’t let me off when I was short 1p for a tomato!

‘Isn’t that the right colour red for Spiderman?’ said Holly holding up a cupcake.

‘Yes,’ I lied. She grinned happily. I took a bite and pronounced them rather tasty.
 

After breakfast we started the long journey to see Adam, and we arrived just after lunch. He was looking well, and was so excited to see Holly. He has a new job with responsibility, working in the hospital wing and he now has his own room with an en-suite bathroom and shower.
 

'You’ve got a shower?' I said. 'I have a jug in the bath,' I regretted it as soon as I said it.
 

Adam gave me his gift, a small envelope. I opened it and inside was a piece of black card. On one side, he had written in silver ink (borrowed from another inmate called Mick, seven years for GBH).
To my beautiful Coco, life is for the living…

'Turn it over,' said Adam. I did and taped to the back was a white feather.

‘Wow…’ said Holly. 'What is it?’

'The other night after association I went back to my cell and I prayed, something I never do. I prayed that you would be safe. The next morning this white feather was on the floor of my cell.'

It looked like a goose feather; it was pure white and perfectly formed.

'I don’t know where it came from,’ he said. ‘My door was locked, we don’t have feather beds or pillows in here, the windows were sealed and my cell is bare. When I told one of the guys who comes to the hospital wing, he said that a feather appearing is the sign of a guardian angel, and I want you to have it.’

‘Me?’ I said.

‘That’s lovely Dad,’ said Holly. ‘I smuggled a Taser through customs at Heathrow. That’s my guardian angel.’

I grinned at Adam and leant across the table and gave him a kiss.

’Ahhh. So when’s the big day?’ said Holly. 'When are you two getting married?’

‘Well we have a wedding booked for August the nineteenth but…’

'Hang on,’ said Holly pulling out her iPhone. ‘I think I’m free… Siri, when is London Fashion Week…?’ she said speaking into her phone.
 

‘BUT,’ I said. ‘Your Dad is in jail for, well, it could be four years.’

‘Oh,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry. God I’m so stupid…’

Luckily, the bell rang for the end of visiting, and I didn’t have to comment on that. Adam gave Holly a long hug and told her to stay safe and visit whenever she could. Then he asked if she could give us a minute.
 

‘Coco,’ said Adam as the other prisoners were filing out. ‘I want you to do something.’

‘What?’

‘Start living your life again.’

‘What do you mean?’ I said.

‘You’re just waiting around for me. Living in poverty in that scuzzy flat, not going out.’

‘I’m waiting for you.’ I said reaching out and touching his arm.

‘You know you could be waiting until 2018.’

‘I thought you were being released early?’

‘It’s not guaranteed. Think about it. In 2018 we’ll both be in our fifties. There’s so much out there. You’ll get your house back next year and…’

‘What are you saying? You don’t want to be with me anymore! Don’t you
dare
dump me on my birthday Adam Rickard. I’m not being dumped by someone whose in jail on my birthday!’
 

‘No, I’m not…’ Adam put his head in his hands, and then one of the prison guards came and told him he had to leave.

‘I fucking hate this!’ he shouted and then he was pulled away.

‘I’m waiting for you,’ I shouted after him. ‘Whether you like it or not!’ but Adam was gone. Holly had been stood a little way away, watching. She came over and hugged me.

‘He’s lucky to have you Coco,’ she said. ‘So am I.’

I didn’t say much on the long journey home, and neither did Holly. We got in very late, and after giving Rocco a walk I found her already tucked up asleep on the sofa.

I spent a long time thinking in bed. It’s strange how when so much is taken from you, you start to think about the otherworldly. Adam and myself would never have entertained thoughts of Angels, or said prayers when we were riding high. I put the card with the feather on my bedside table and stared at it for a long time before I fell asleep.

I woke up at nine and when I tiptoed through to let Rocco out Holly was already up and outside drinking coffee.

‘You’re up early, for you!’ I grinned.

‘Yeah, I think it’s time I let you have your place back,’ she said. 'I’m gonna get a train up and see mum. It’s about time, she’s like rung me loads.’

‘Are you sure?’ I said. ‘I was starting to enjoy having company.’

I helped her pack and made her a sandwich for the journey and then around midday, she called a cab for the station.

‘Thanks Coco,’ she said. ‘For giving me somewhere to stay.’

‘I hope you were comfy on the sofa,’ I said.

‘I’ve slept better than I ever have here,’ she said. ‘But I have had this weird recurring dream, about this sweet old lady dusting the bookshelves… but it’s probably just me being a ditzy brain!’

After she had gone I opened the door and the sun streamed in. I made some toast as Rocco gobbled down his food. I didn’t feel scared, but I’ve had the same dream four times in the last week!

Love you guys, thanks for your cards and presents - Coco xxx

Saturday 25th June
 
21.13

TO: [email protected]

Adam has been locked away for 100 days now. There are 1,284 days left until he is released – IF he gets parole. I have stopped doing any more addition as it’s killing me. I think we’re going to have to listen to a different album soon. Adele, for all her gorgeousness, has sunk me into a deep, deep gloom.

July

Wednesday 13th July
 
20.47

TO [email protected]

For Prisoner AG26754 Adam Rickard

I started dog walking with Marika the other day, and in the heat, it’s harder than I thought. She walks up to six hours a day! Her dog walking business is booming. She has started to get queries from a couple of guys about overnight stays, for their dogs that is, not for them!

She hasn’t told her mother she is a Dog Walker. Blazena thinks she is temping at City Hall, and the only reason she is happy about this is that Marika has told her it’s the perfect place to meet a rich husband.

On the way back from dog walking we’ve been stopping at a new cafe on Brockley Road that serve ice coffee in little glass jam jars, with a scoop of vanilla ice cream.
 

I have become addicted, and tried to replicate it at home, making a litre and a half of instant coffee with a little sugar, in an old a lemonade bottle that I keep in the fridge. I have also bought ice cream, and even splurged on a tin of coco powder for dusting. When you are released, I am going to make it for you.

I had three visitors the other day. I was expecting Rosencrantz, but shortly after he arrived, Meryl turned up with Wilfred.

‘Oh Coco, its… snug,’ she said as I closed the door behind her.

‘Hey Aunt Meryl,’ said Rosencrantz coming in from the back door, ‘and Wilf!’ Wilfred was dressed in shorts, a little blazer, and tiny trilby with a feather tucked in the brim. His plump little cheeks were very red.

‘You look fucking cool, little man,’ said Rosencrantz.

‘Please Rosencrantz, no toilet language. I live in fear of Wilfred’s first word beginning with an, f.’

‘There are plenty of other nice f-words,’ said Rosencrantz tickling Wilfred’s tummy. ‘Fiddlesticks, fuddleflum, flibbedy flobbidy floo!’

Wilfred laughed in delight and shuffled his legs. Meryl took his trilby off, and put him on the floor to crawl.

‘I haven’t hoovered Meryl,’ I said as Wilfred started to turbo crawl and disappeared round the back of the sofa.

‘It’s okay,’ she said. ‘I want him to build up his resistance and be exposed to lots of germs, that’s one of the reasons we popped over.’ Rosencrantz and me looked at each other.

‘Would you like an ice coffee?’ I said.

Meryl told us, over ice coffee in the garden, that she had been to give Ethel ‘a dressing down’ over her antics at the christening.

‘I don’t understand my mother,’ said Meryl in a rare candid moment. ‘I try to make the best of myself, I’ve fought my way up from nothing in a two up two down with an outside loo… I thought she’d be proud of me, of what we can give Wilfred.’

‘I think you should have included her more, in the christening,’ I said.

‘Tony said the same,’ mused Meryl. ‘It’s just, you never feel good enough…’

‘What do you mean?’ said Rosencrantz who was bouncing Wilfred on his lap.

‘I could have the best Christening and wear the most expensive clothes in the biggest Marquee, but there will always be whispers,
did you know she grew up in a slum, she failed the eleven-plus and went to her local comp…
’

‘Why should you care what they say?’ said Rosencrantz.

‘Oh the luxury of privilege,’ said Meryl. ‘And I don’t mean that in a nasty way,’ she added. ‘That’s why I so admire Carole Middleton, she came from nothing. And is now mother of a future Queen.’