The Not So Secret Emails Of Coco Pinchard (17 page)

“Lovely…oss shit,” he said. Chris panicked and offered Len a slice of quiche.

“Oss shit!” said Len.

“Excuse me?” said Chris.

“Osssss SHIT! Good fer yer lungs!” shouted Len spraying Chris with spittle. Chris just looked at him. Len muttered under his breath something about yuppies and staggered off tapping his stick.

“Who in god’s name was that?” he said.

“Len, the Don of the Allotment,” I said. “It’s teeming with old gits.” Then I realised how good this was. There didn’t appear to be any other women my age, or god forbid, younger. I could flirt with the lovely Adam unheeded.

“You should be back out dating,” said Chris. “Play the field. When did you last have sex?”

“February.”

“February?” he shrieked sounding scandalised. “You MUST have sex!”

Is he right? Must I? I am only just psyching myself up to a bit of mild flirtation. I realise since the Divorce papers arrived I have started to glance at men I see in the street, but I just get the same feeling about sex, as I would about a bungee jump - I just can’t imagine myself doing it.

Saturday 23rd May  08:34

TO: [email protected]

Just had a call from Daniel where he ticked me off for inappropriate behaviour towards his Sister and Mother. He said I had broken the vow he had made to Ethel that our home is her home, etc. He reminded me that the house is not being signed over until our decree absolute in three weeks so it is still half
his
house. I asked him why he didn’t say this before.

He told me Ethel is coming to stay until Tuesday whilst Tony and Meryl, ‘Get some R & R in the Cotswold’s.’

Meryl has obviously got to him. He was always more scared of her than me. They are arriving in four hours. So, lots of notice. Great…

Saturday 23rd May  13:55

TO: [email protected]

Meryl and Ethel arrived on time, in the Hearse, which always draws a few looks. My outburst, and throwing them out wasn’t mentioned, Meryl stuck to safe topics. The weather; ‘Clement,’ the M1; ‘A carve up’ and Susan Boyle; ‘women in my church group can sing
far
better.’

After twenty minutes of small talk, Meryl bade Ethel farewell and asked if I would walk her out to the Hearse. She got in and rolled down the window with a stern look on her face. I thought here it is, the talking to. Instead, she said, “Coco, as you know me and Tony are going away, alone…I wanted to see if I could borrow that television programme you have? Um…”

I looked at her blankly, “Walking With Dinosaurs
?
”

“No,” she said going red and flustered. “You know the thing we watched, together, when Mum was poorly?”

“Oh…You mean Sex and The City?”

“Shhh. Yes. That. Could I borrow that?”

“Sure, take the box set,” I said, and went and grabbed it.

“I’ve put the one we watched inside on the top,” I smiled handing it through the Hearse window.

“Thank you!” she trilled, and drove off her face a deep crimson.

When I came back in Ethel had opened a bottle of Lambrusco Bianco and sent Rosencrantz off to the shop for a packet of my cigarettes. She offered me a glass, and for the second time in the space of an hour, Daniel’s in-laws surprised me.

She raised her glass to toast
me!
She said that despite being posh, I had been a ‘fairly good’ Daughter-in-Law and she hopes we keep in touch. We clinked and I went to make a little speech of thanks, but she launched into a tirade about Daniel.

He is in a
relationship
.

“She’s twenty-five,” said Ethel sitting back and pursing her lips for effect. “She’s religious and she’s
American!
”

“Oh,” I said. I was more surprised by how little I felt. Lots of things have happened lately, and I think I may be getting over Daniel.

It seems now I am no longer with him, I have ceased to be her enemy. The glass of lukewarm wine seemed to be an entry into Ethel’s circle of slagging off. I joined in with the tirade just a little bit, as I figured it would make the weekend go a bit easier. Daniel’s new girlfriend is called Kendal.

“Why would you name your kid after a mint cake?” said Ethel, incredulous, “
Americans
!”

When Rosencrantz returned with the fags I let him hear all about it and went for a peaceful smoke.

I keep thinking about Adam.

Sunday 24th May  19:43

TO: [email protected]

I was up early this morning and read the papers with coffee and several cigarettes in the garden. Ethel came clicking out on her frame about eleven saying,

“What you doin out ‘ere?”

“Relaxing.”

“You’ve got a son in ‘ere in tears,” she said. I jumped up and followed her to find Rosencrantz huddled over a bowl of cereal, crying.

“Don’t cry boy,” said Ethel rubbing his arm.

“What’s wrong?” I said putting my arm round him.

“Just everything, everything’s gone,” he sobbed. Instinctively I looked around the room.

“E’s not talking about the bloody furniture,” said Ethel. “E means ‘is life!” I didn’t know what to do, and looked on helpless.

“Ere let yer Nan spark up for yer,” said Ethel. She took a cigarette from a packet on the table and lit it, pressing it between his lips. He inhaled and exhaled.

“Better?” Rosencrantz nodded.

“I need a number two,” said Ethel, indicating I should talk to him as she shuffled out.

I sat down and we had a long chat. I have been so absorbed, since we got back from America, that I hadn’t thought, or hadn’t realised he was going through things too. He’d appeared so resilient, slotting back into life.

He still feels deeply betrayed by Christian, who seems to have vanished off the face of the earth. His phone number is not working and he has mysteriously left his course at the London School Of Fashion.

“And Dad hates me,” he added.

“No, he doesn’t,” I said. “He’s just a …” I nearly said something I shouldn’t. “He’s just having a mid-life crisis.”

“Well, he didn’t seem to want me around when we stayed with him…and that Kendal girl.”

“He was with her then?” I said, sharply.

“Yeah. Dad said we had to be careful around her, because she was from a very religious family and didn’t approve of gays…I didn’t want to tell you. I knew you would be upset.”

I hugged him tight. He has been working to protect me, but all I have been doing lately is thinking about myself.

I spent the rest of the day with him and Ethel, talking, and we all went for a walk in Regent’s Park and had ice cream by the Boating Lake. He’s still not right. It’s something I can’t put my finger on, still something he is not telling me.

I never thought much about parental responsibility when I was with Daniel, we shared it very well, and it just seemed to happen. Suddenly being on my own with him is hard.

Monday 26th May  14:47

TO: [email protected], [email protected]

I took Ethel up to see the Allotment this morning. I proudly showed her my clean, freshly dug-over soil.

“Shame yours is just muck compared to all the others,” she said and went to put the kettle on.

Adam came out of his shed, dressed in faded jeans and a tight white t-shirt. He looked great.

“Morning,” he said. He began to water a row of sweetcorn.

“Looking good,” I said. “I mean your plants.’’ He smiled. His lips, I thought, are beautiful and full, and his teeth are so white … then I realised he had said something to me.

“What?”

“You’ve been digging,’’ he repeated, louder.

“Yes, I’ve been digging…” I said. I didn’t know what else to say. I heard Ethel clear her throat and she was standing in the shed doorway with a box of PG Tips.

“You want me to save the tea bags, for yer eye bags?” she said, loudly, looking between Adam and me.

“Adam, this is Ethel, my Mother-in-Law,” I said. As soon as it came out of my mouth, I saw him trying to work me out, had he been thinking I was single?

“Hello,” he said.

“Yes, hello,” said Ethel putting on her posh voice, “she’s just div-horcing my son. The marriage dis-hintegrated, he’s taken up with an American girl half this one’s age.” I gave her a look, and we all stood in silence for a moment.

“Well,” he said, “I have to get on. Nice to see you.” And with that, he shook his empty watering can and disappeared into his shed. I lit up a fag and said to Ethel that I didn’t want tea and that we should go. It seems every conversation I have with him is a public relations disaster.

When we got home, Ethel looked fit to burst with her piece of fresh gossip. Rosencrantz had just come down from the shower and was rooting around in the fridge. She hoisted herself onto one of the breakfast stools and announced,

“Yer Mum ‘as a new friend.”

“Oh,” said Rosencrantz from inside the fridge. When he stood up, he saw her gleeful face.

“Oh, that kind of friend,” he said. “Cool.”

“E’s black y’ know,” she said, looking for a reaction.

“So?” said Rosencrantz.

“Yer Mum and a black man? The ‘ole street ‘ll be talking.”

“That’s enough Ethel,” I said. Rosencrantz busied himself making toast.

“Rosencrantz,” I said. “I’m not like your Father, I’m not jumping into having a relationship. He, Adam, is a very handsome man I have talked to across my Allotment a couple of times … Maybe it’s a flirtation, but so mild that it was pretty much imperceptible. That really is it.”

“It’s cool,” said Rosencrantz buttering his toast.

“Yer Dad’s with a yank, and yer Mum with a black man!’ said Ethel trying to stir. “At this rate you could go on Jerry Springer!”

“Stop it!” I said angrily. I went upstairs red in the face and left Rosencrantz to lecture her about tolerance. What must he think of me, now he has been led to believe I have a boyfriend? After all the talks we had about Daniel copping off with some yank, I mean American.

Tuesday 27th May  10:45

TO: [email protected], [email protected]

I wasn’t sad to see Meryl and Tony collect Ethel. After mining me for information about my life, and fixating on Adam, I had had enough of her.

They looked very rosy and relaxed when they arrived from their weekend away. In fact, Tony was so relaxed he was willing to break their ‘maximum two people in the Hearse’ rule, and let Ethel sit in the front between them. I nearly told him to bung her in the Coffin and nail it shut.

Meryl waited until Tony was outside putting Ethel’s case in before giving back the Sex And The City
box set. She slid it across the table wrapped in a Pashmina.

“I’ll collect the scarf next time,” she said hastily when I went to unwrap it. She didn’t say anything else about their weekend, but Ethel had told us all the gossip over dinner the previous night.

Meryl and Tony have been trying for a baby! Meryl met the wife of a fertility expert in one of her cookery chat-rooms (as you do), and invited them over for dinner. One thing led to another and Meryl has been paying a fortune for hormone injections. He recommended they get away to relax and try to get pregnant.

“I just ‘ope they don’t do what that Dave Beckham did,” said Ethel, “an name it after the place what they bonked in. Scunthorpe Watson would be a very cruel name.”

I never knew how much they wanted a child. Apparently, they have been trying to conceive for years. Meryl had always scoffed at the subject of children, saying they would play havoc with her carpets.

Thursday 29th May  15:43

TO: [email protected]

I’ve spent the last couple of days at the Allotment with Rosencrantz and Marika. Rosencrantz is on his reading week and Marika had some free days because her students are on exam leave.

I wish you would come too. I will keep Len away from you. We are planting Raspberry canes and Blackcurrant bushes.

Rosencrantz left the Allotment early tonight to begin a new job, working in a bar on the High Street; he keeps saying he needs to start paying his way. I have told him that he doesn’t need to and should concentrate on Drama School, but he won’t listen. He is still not right and I don’t know what to do. Marika just says I should give him time and space.

Adam wasn’t at the Allotments.

Sunday 31st May  17:33

TO: [email protected]

Adam showed up today, just as I was packing away. My obsession with wanting to see him has built up over the past few days, so when I opened my mouth to say hello, a barrage of thoughts came tumbling out.

“My Mother-in-Law, is my ex Mother-in-Law because my husband cheated on me after Christmas.” I blurted. “It was me who left him. I’m divorced.”

“Oh,” he said. “Okay.” There was a pause.

“Do you smoke?” I said, offering him a cigarette.

“No,” he said. “My mother died of cancer.”

“Mine too!” I said a little over enthusiastically, “I mean, mine too,” I repeated, in a more serious tone. “I need to stop, smoking that is.”

“Well, there’s the pub, I’m just off for a drink, that’s non-smoking,” he said.

“Yes, it is,” I said. He grinned.

Then, realising, I said. “I’d love to come to the pub.” You would think I had never spoken to a man before.

I said I would lock up and dashed into the shed and scrabbled around for a teaspoon. I didn’t have a mirror. As far as I could see, I didn’t have any manure on my face.

I straightened myself up and came back out locking the door. A beautiful pale young girl, who can’t have been more than late twenties, was standing with Adam. I stopped in my tracks. She was tall and dressed in that wonderfully tousled Boho style. Her long dark hair was fashionably messy. She held a small branch covered in light pink blossom.

“Smell this,” she was saying, holding the blossom up to Adam’s nose, and leaning on his broad shoulder.

“Mmmm,” he said, “Cherry.” The ‘mmmm’ sound he made was so deep, and expressed so much pleasure in him. The rumble of his voice went through my stomach, and made me tingle.

“Where did you get this? I hope you haven’t been scrumping,” he scolded, playfully. He looked up and saw me. The girl followed his gaze and gave me a warm perfect smile. The bitch.