Coco Pinchard's Must-Have Toy Story
Page 11
Then Rosencrantz’s door opened. I quickly closed the airing cupboard door after pushing all the bits on the carpet inside too.
“Happy Christmas everyone!” said Rosencrantz, grinning. “Can I open my presents?”
There was an awkward pause.
“Let’s see if we can spot Father Christmas flying across the sky!” said Ethel, grabbing him and taking him back in his bedroom.
“I thought he comes during the night?” said Rosencrantz.
“Oh ‘e does, but ‘e knocks off at six and ‘as a quick pint before ‘e goes off to Lapland. Maybe ‘e’s bin at the pub at the end of the road.” She managed to get him in his room and shut the door.
“Coco, have we got anything else we can give Rosencrantz instead?” begged Daniel.
“That is the most stupid question I’ve ever heard!” I said, seething with rage. I ignored him, came downstairs and into the living room. The presents were all laid out under the tree.
“Ooh look, is that Father Christmas’s reindeer in the beer garden?” I heard Ethel say from upstairs in Rosencrantz’s bedroom.
Marika joined me in the living room and saw my tears.
“Oh God, Marika. What are we going to do?”
She gave me a hug. Then Rosencrantz bolted downstairs, past us and into the living room shouting, “Presents, present, presents!”
Ethel appeared out of breath at the door.
“I couldn’t keep ‘old of ‘im. ‘E’s like a slippery little bar of soap.”
Within seconds, Rosencrantz had the wrapping paper off four of his presents. He was wild with excitement.
“Slow down, love,” I pleaded.
I felt powerless, a failure. I came out of the living room and shut the door. Ethel, Marika, Meryl and Tony were in the hall. Daniel was hobbling downstairs.
“I can’t watch him get to the last present,” I said. “I’m going to be sick.”
Just then the doorbell rang. We all froze for a moment. It rang again.
“Well, someone answer it,” said Ethel. “It ain’t bloody Father Christmas!”
I pulled open the door. There stood Chris, crying. In his hand he held… a Tracy Island!
“What? How?” I said with wonder.
“I know I should be on the cruise, but I jumped ship. Well, not literally, I can’t swim. I waited until we docked at Calais and got a ferry back. I’ve broken up with Benji,” sobbed Chris.
We all stared at him in shock.
“I know, I can see what you’re all thinking. I said I thought he was the one, but the ‘cruise’ he’d booked us on was a bloody Disney Christmas Cruise! I said I am NOT going to be trapped on a boat with a bunch of Disney freaks!”
“Um, is that Tracy Island?” I asked, insensitively I know.
“What?” said Chris.
“Tracy Island?” said Meryl.
“Tracy bleedin’ Island?” said Ethel.
Chris looked confused.
“IS THAT TRACY ISLAND?” we all shouted.
“Oh, this? Yes,” said Chris, holding up the box. “Dad got one in the end, from his friend in the import-export biz. Had it delivered to my house last night.”
Meryl lunged at the box and grabbed it out of Chris’s hand.
“Give me two minutes! Tony!” she barked, clicking her fingers. “I need a yard of red ribbon, Sellotape, scissors, and that roll of nice wrapping paper.”
They vanished upstairs. Chris looked bewildered.
“It’s just a toy,” he said.
“Chris, if you expect to live long enough to see the Queen’s Speech you will take that back. It is not just a toy. It’s an embodiment of everything: my ability to be a good mother and to make my son happy.”
“Cokes, you’re scaring me,” he said.
“Sorry. It’s so good to see you!” I dragged him in off the step and hugged him.
Meryl was back down the stairs in two minutes with Tracy Island wrapped. We all crept into the living room to find Rosencrantz sitting amongst a pile of discarded wrapping paper.
“Where did Father Christmas put my big present?” he asked.
“Look behind the tree, love,” said Ethel.
“I did look, Nan,” answered Rosencrantz.
“Well, look again, ‘ere, I’ll help.”
She took him up to the Christmas tree, and when their backs were turned I gently placed the wrapped Tracy Island on top of the unwrapped presents. Rosencrantz turned and his eyes lit up when he saw the box with the big bow.
“Wow! You just missed him,” I said.
“He just whipped in the door and whipped out again, like lightning,” said Daniel.
“Really?” said Rosencrantz.
“Yes, Father Christmas moves very fast,” nodded Meryl.
“How do you think he gets round all the houses?” said Tony.
“See love, I told you’d ‘e’d bin in the pub,” smiled Ethel.
The look of wonder on Rosencrantz’s face made everything melt away – all the stress and the panic, all the anger and fear. He seized the present and tore off the paper.
“Tracy Island!” he cried. “This is the best bloody Christmas ever!”
Tears began to roll down my face and I looked round at Marika and Chris smiling, at Daniel with his leg in plaster, Meryl with her hair frozen in a rock-hard Elvis quiff, Tony covered in peck marks from his brush with the Emperor penguins, Ethel grinning without her teeth, and me with the tail end of a black eye and bits of green papier mâché all down me. Outside there was a deep blanket of snow, and I was inside, safe and warm with the people I loved.
“Yes, it’s the best Christmas ever,” I said.
* * *
And I meant it.
A Note From Robert
First of all, I want to say a huge thank you for choosing to read Coco Pinchard’s Must-Have Toy Story. If you did enjoy it, I would be very grateful if you could write a review. I’d love to hear what you think, and reviews really help new readers to discover one of my books for the first time. If you want to drop me a line, you can get in touch on my Facebook Page, through Twitter, Instagram, or my website www.robertbryndza.com. I love to hear from readers, and it blows me away every time I hear how much you’ve taken my books into your hearts. There are lots more to come including, yes, more adventures from Coco Pinchard, so I hope you stay with me for the ride!
* * *
Robert Bryndza
* * *
P.S. If you would like to get an email informing you when my next book will be released you can sign up to my mailing list using the link below. Your email address will never be shared, and you can unsubscribe at any time.
http://eepurl.com/UITxz
About the Author
Robert Bryndza is the author of the international #1 bestseller The Girl in the Ice, which is the first in his Detective Erika Foster series. Robert’s books have sold over 3 million copies and have been translated into 28 languages. In addition to writing crime fiction, Robert has published a bestselling series of romantic comedy novels. He is British and lives in Slovakia.
www.robertbryndza.com
Acknowledgments
Thank you to Stephanie Dagg for editing this book with the utmost love and care, and for writing the best notes.
A huge thanks, as always, to Team Bryndza, I love you so much. And as ever, thanks to my readers who are the best an author could dream of.
And to all the parents, guardians, and anyone who is in pursuit of the must-have toy this Christmas. Stay safe and don’t do anything too crazy trying to get it.
And just remember, however great the toy is, they will probably end up playing with the box.
z-filter: grayscale(100%); -o-filter: grayscale(100%); -ms-filter: grayscale(100%); filter: grayscale(100%); " class="sharethis-inline-share-buttons">share