Coco Pinchard, the Consequences of Love and Sex: A Funny, Feel-Good, Romantic Comedy

by Robert Bryndza

  Rosencrantz came back down the stairs with his laptop and a bag.

  ‘I’ll be in the car,’ he said and skimmed past us out of the front door. Wayne took a drag of his thin cigarette and raised his eyebrows as the door closed.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me Rosencrantz was feeling low?’ I asked.

  ‘Oh we all feel low Mrs P. Rosencrantz has decided to push self-destruct, without so much as a care for any of us. We were so happy in this house.’

  ‘Can’t you talk to the landlord?’

  ‘Mrs P. I don’t want to talk to the landlord. Come with me.’

  He hitched up his long housecoat and I followed him up the narrow staircase. Wayne’s tiny room is at the top. It was a mess of broken china. It was all over the bed and across the carpet.

  ‘Your royal wedding collection,’ I said picking up a small shard of china bearing Princess Diana’s optimistic smile.

  ‘I tried to stop him when he hit Oscar, but he came in here and went berserk. I had every wedding from the Queen and Prince Phillip to Kate and Wills. I even had the original Charles and Camilla – which is rare. You know they had to move the date when the Pope died.’

  I was horrified.

  ‘Mrs P, he’s been drunk for the best part of the last four months. And he’s not a happy drunk. I’m surprised Oscar stuck it for so long. Rosencrantz couldn’t bear the fact that Oscar was more successful than he was.’

  I thought back to all the times I’ve seen Rosencrantz drinking, why didn’t it ring any alarm bells?

  ‘Did you know he’d been taking anti-depressants?’ I asked.

  Wayne looked surprised.

  ‘No. That I didn’t know, but it explains a lot…’

  I offered to pay Wayne for the mugs but he refused. I promised I would try and make it up to him.

  I came back outside. Rosencrantz was sitting on the bonnet of the car smoking.

  ‘Don’t sit on the paintwork,’ I snapped. He got up with a surprised look and we got in the car.

  I really let him have it. I told him I didn’t bring him up to lie and be violent or break other people’s things, and that drink isn’t the answer. He just sat there and looked at me.

  ‘Have you finished? You’ve always been blessed haven’t you Mum? Rich kid. Never really had to suffer,’ he said it with a nasty grimace. I’ve seen Daniel with that look on his face, and seeing Rosencrantz pulling it horrified me. I slapped him. Hard. He looked shocked.

  ‘Don’t you ever speak like that to me again.’ I said. ‘Now drive us home.’

  We drove home in silence. I despaired. Despaired that I didn’t have the energy to deal with this. Rosencrantz drinking. Please God don’t let him be an alcoholic, I prayed.

  When we got home, I heard a banging sound followed by a plinking. It was coming through the kitchen door, which was closed. Rocco lay patiently outside.

  I opened the door and the smell of beer hit us. Every surface was covered in beer bottles, little groups of shiny brown glass bottles with red lids. Adam had pushed the kitchen table and chairs against the wall, laid a big tarpaulin on the floor, and had the forty-litre container of beer in the middle of it, where he was siphoning it off into bottles with a clear tube.

  He finished filling a bottle nipped off the flow of the tube with a clothes peg, then banged on a red lid with a hammer.

  ‘Our first brew! Ninety-seven bottles and counting… Hey Rosencrantz, fancy a drink?’

  ‘Adam!’ I said.

  ‘I know, I said I would wait for you, but you have to suck when siphoning. Hey Rosencrantz, where did you get the shiner?’

  ‘Rosencrantz, go upstairs,’ I said panicking.

  ‘I’m not a fucking alcoholic, Jesus!’ he said. Then he left the house slamming the door.

  ‘Which means he is an alcoholic,’ I said sinking down in a chair.

  ‘What’s going on?’ said Adam.

  ‘I need a beer,’ I said. Over a rather flat and flavourless beer I told Adam everything.

  ‘Oh Lord,’ he said when I’d finished.

  ‘What should I do?’ I asked wearily.

  ‘Bringing him here was a good call.’

  ‘And? He’s out there now doing God knows what.’

  ‘Has he got any money to buy drinks?’

  ‘When you look like Rosencrantz you don’t need money to get drinks.’

  Saturday 9th June

  Rosencrantz got in just before midnight. We lay in bed listening. There was a bit of a stumble, but we heard him make it up the stairs and into the bathroom.

  ‘Does he sound drunk?’ I whispered.

  ‘I don’t know. Shhhh,’ whispered Adam. We listened for a minute, the toilet flushed, and then the taps ran.

  ‘I should go and talk to him,’ I said.

  ‘No. Let me.’ Adam got up and went out to the landing. I listened with bated breath.

  ‘Hi mate, you okay?’

  ‘Yeah,’ said Rosencrantz.

  ‘You got enough blankets?’

  ‘Um, yeah.’

  ‘Ok, well, night.’

  ‘Night’ said Rosencrantz. Adam padded back in to the bedroom.

  ‘That was hopeless!’ I hissed when he climbed into bed.

  ‘What was I supposed to say?’

  ‘I would have found out where he’d been, I would have smelt his breath.’

  ‘Coco. He’s in one piece, as far as I could tell he didn’t smell too bad. Just leave it. You don’t want to push him away. Get some sleep.’

  Of course, I didn’t get any sleep. I started going through the family tree, trying to remember if there was an alcoholic in the family. The baby kicked and wiggled about under my rib cage. What if I’m growing another little alcoholic? I thought.

  Adam went to get the papers this morning and I was eating toast when Rosencrantz came down. He sat and I poured him some tea. I didn’t say anything. He buttered some toast, fed a little to Rocco.

  ‘I just can’t hack my life, no structure,’ he said breaking the silence.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘My life. Being an actor. It used to be fun… I went to Ginger’s last night.’

  ‘The gay bar on the high street?’

  ‘The tragic gay bar on the high street.’

  ‘Did you have a nice time?’

  ‘This guy offered me three hundred pounds to have sex with him.’

  I choked into my tea. ‘You didn’t?’

  ‘No, of course not… but a part of me wished I had. He was so sexy, mid-thirties… an amazing body. Fun to be with. Three hundred for an hour of fun. I haven’t earned that for acting in ages.’

  ‘Why did he offer you money?’

  ‘’Cos I was indifferent to him. I said no a few times.’

  He sipped his tea again, he didn’t seem concerned.

  ‘It would be prostitution!’ I said.

  ‘Would it? I would have done it anyway. Isn’t it just sex with expenses?’

  ‘And stealing is just shopping without going to the till.’

  ‘A few months ago, this same guy took me out on a date. He ordered expensive wine, three courses. The bill came to nearly three hundred, and afterwards I shagged him.’

  ‘But that was a date Rosencrantz.’

  ‘What’s the difference between being bought dinner and then sleeping with someone, or sleeping with someone and being given a similar amount in cash? If you ask me I’d rather skip the calories and have the cash… And didn’t you have that old prozzie renting Adam’s flat? You seemed happy enough to take her rent money.’

  I felt a bit like I was on that Radio 4 programme ‘The Moral Maze’. He almost had a point. But I couldn’t lose a debate with my son about whether he should dabble in prostitution.

  ‘Morning. What are we talking about?’ asked Adam coming back in with the newspapers.

  ‘I’m just discussing with Mum whether or not I should sleep with a hot rich man for three hundred quid.’

  ‘You’ve arranged this?�
�� said Adam.

  ‘Of course not!’ I said. ‘What kind of mother do you think I am? The guy asked him.’

  ‘Rosencrantz,’ said Adam. ‘You are a handsome and talented lad. It would be a very slippery slope if you even considered this, and it wouldn’t just be once. You’d get trapped in what seems like easy money. The acting work you love would lose any value, and I believe you can earn money from it. You’re just going through a rough patch. Most of the fun is in the struggle and makes achieving it all the more special.’

  Rosencrantz nodded, he appeared to be taking it in.

  ‘Prostitution isn’t a career. Acting is, and building a career you love is one of the most rewarding and exciting things you can do.’ Adam tousled Rosencrantz’s hair and sat down beside me.

  ‘Thanks Adam,’ said Rosencrantz. His phone rang and he excused himself.

  ‘That was amazing,’ I said. ‘Where did you get that from?’

  Adam shrugged. ‘He’s a good kid. Just confused about life,’ he said kissing me the top of my head.

  ‘What about me? I’m just as confused. I’ve been his mother for twenty-two years and I was about to lose that argument. If you hadn’t walked in, I’d have sent him off to shag older men for cash. I’m a terrible mother. I haven’t learned anything.’

  ‘You’re a wonderful mother. Although I wouldn’t want you to work as a careers advisor.’

  He leant in and kissed me.

  ‘What do I do?’ I asked.

  ‘Be there for him,’ said Adam.

  Sunday 9th June

  Today we took Marika and Milan to see Strangeways Farm. Chris had to go away on business, but he said he’d leave the key under the mat of the house. Milan and Marika were bouncing with happiness at the prospect of coming to see it. I really wanted Rosencrantz to see it too, but he said he hadn’t been sleeping and just wanted to chill in front of the TV. I reluctantly left him.

  The Kent countryside looked even more stunning – green and fresh, bursting with life. The long driveway had dried out and we bounced along in the car. Marika kept giving Milan an odd look and squeezing his hand, but I couldn’t work out what was going on. Did they think we were stupid, doing this?

  ‘Bloody hell,’ said Marika getting out of the car and pulling off her shades. The lake shimmered in the far distance and deer stood in groups nibbling at the lush grass.

  ‘It’s too big,’ I said. ‘It’s a crazy idea, it’s –’

  ‘It’s amazing mate,’ said Milan to Adam.

  ‘Cokes, Adam, You’re so lucky,’ said Marika all breathy and shiny-eyed. She reached out and grabbed Milan’s hand, he winked at her.

  ‘What’s going on with you two?’ I asked. They exchanged another meaningful look.

  ‘Nothing, let’s see the house,’ said Marika. I was shocked how much the garden had grown since we were last there. The grass was ankle height as we walked up to the front door. I could see through the dirty pane of glass that there was more junk mail. We lifted the old mat and underneath was a large key. Adam’s phone rang so he ducked to one side and took the call. I put the key in and after a couple of tries got the stiff lock open.

  ‘This is okay Cokes,’ said Marika as we went into the kitchen. ‘It needs a bit of modernisation.’

  ‘Come and see upstairs,’ I said. Adam was standing at the bottom of the stairs when we came back down.

  ‘That was Bonham & Son,’ he said. ‘They’re going to list the house on Monday morning!’

  I leaned back feeling a bit faint.

  ‘You okay Cokes?’ asked Marika.

  ‘Yes, it’s just a big change. I’ve lived in that house my whole life. Everything is changing.’

  I started to tell them about Rosencrantz but I noticed Marika and Milan exchanging yet another look.

  ‘What is it guys?’ I said. ‘Tell the truth, do you think we’re making a big mistake?’

  Marika came and sat beside me.

  ‘I think we can tell them,’ said Milan. I looked between them.

  ‘Coco, Adam,’ said Marika. ‘I’m pregnant.’

  ‘What?’ I said.

  ‘With twins,’ she added. My mouth dropped open.

  ‘You’re kidding?’ said Adam.

  ‘No. I’m twelve weeks’ pregnant, with twins… it wasn’t expected,’ said Marika. ‘In fact I’ve had no symptoms. It was only the other week when I started throwing up with stomach pains that I went to the doctor…’

  ‘I thought she had appendicitis,’ said Milan.

  ‘But you’d knocked her up you dirty dog,’ grinned Adam. I was still in shock.

  ‘You’re fine, right Cokes?’ said Marika.

  ‘Of course, yes.’ I gave her a big hug. ‘When are you due?’

  ‘December the twenty second,’ grinned Milan with his cute smile. He pulled an ultrasound scan photo out of the back pocket of his jeans and proudly thrust it at us. We could make out two little babies’ heads with limbs intertwined.

  ‘I didn’t want to steal your thunder Cokes,’ said Marika.

  ‘No! You haven’t,’ I said, grinning.

  ‘We didn’t bring anything to toast with,’ said Milan.

  ‘The water!’ said Adam. ‘You have to see our well!’ He went through the hall and out the glass back door followed by Milan.

  Marika helped me up and we followed. The moss on the patio had dried a little in the heat, but the grass around the well was now very tall. The boys were fiddling around with the lid.

  ‘Don’t hate me for saying this…but are you sure about this?’ I said. Marika’s eyes filled up and she wiped one with the sleeve of her denim jacket.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Oh…’ I said.

  ‘But I’ve never felt so at home with someone. It’s never been this easy before. I’ve never felt so loved… He’s got no baggage. He’s my best friend, and I don’t want to keep trudging on through life without him…’

  ‘Well you sound sure to me,’ I said giving her another hug. ‘Have you told your mother?’

  ‘Yesterday. Milan told his mother too.’

  ‘Were they pleased?’

  ‘They were until we said we weren’t getting married.’

  ‘You shouldn’t get married just to please other people, it’s a big commitment.’

  ‘I think having his twins inside me, and being officially on his mortgage makes that a moot point.’

  ‘A moo point.’ I grinned, and then made a silly mooing noise. Marika smiled.

  ‘I love you Cokes,’ she said.

  ‘I know. I love you too. We’re going to be mothers together!’

  Marika nodded. ‘But you’re moving away Cokes…’ We looked at each other, realising this.

  ‘Come on you two!’ shouted Adam. ‘We need to toast!’

  We made our way over to the well. The boys had pulled up a bucket full of water and we all scooped up a handful and drank.

  ‘Nice water mate!’ said Milan. ‘It’s rich and sweet.’

  Everyone nodded and smacked their lips. I looked across at Marika who was biting back tears. Then I started crying.

  ‘What’s going on?’ said Adam.

  ‘I’m moving away from my best friend in the world…’ I said. ‘We’re going to have babies and they won’t be able to play together.’

  ‘Sure they will, you’ll still see each other,’ said Adam.

  ‘Yeah, we’ll make sure of it,’ agreed Milan. We nodded along, but we both knew we’d see each other less, and it took a bit of the excitement out of the news.

  On the way home, I sat in the back with Marika and listened to her chatting away about the future and her twins. Adam and Milan sat in the front basking in their virility and talking microbreweries. I felt weird. Like I was a hundred years old. I’ve brought up a son, loved and lost a twenty-year marriage, and it’s now dust. So far in the past. It all went so wrong and now I’m doing it all again. I decided not to mention what was happening with Rosencrantz; it would just spoil the day.


  We dropped Marika and Milan by Covent Garden. They invited us to come for dinner, but I made the excuse that I was exhausted. In reality I wanted to get back and check on Rosencrantz.

  We came home to find empty beer bottles everywhere and vomit in the downstairs toilet. Rosencrantz was nowhere to be found. Rocco was waiting at the front door whimpering with his head low and wagging his tail frantically. He can’t have been let out because he’d left a huge puddle in the kitchen.

  ‘It’s okay, it’s okay, I’m not mad with you,’ I said crouching down to cuddle him.

  ‘But I’m fucking mad with Rosencrantz,’ said Adam. I gave Rocco another cuddle and ruffled his fur.

  We waited up, but Rosencrantz didn’t come home. We went to bed around one, but nothing.

  ‘He’s twenty-three Coco. That little baby inside you is seven months. You need get some sleep for him.’

  Monday 10th June

  We gave up trying to sleep at five and came downstairs to the kitchen. Adam let Rocco out into the garden and I put the kettle on. It was very quiet and warm. The sun was coming up and there was just a faint tweeting of birds.

  ‘What if he’s dead somewhere?’ I said.

  ‘He’s not dead,’ said Adam. ‘He’d better not be dead. I want him to tell me what he thought of my first batch of beer.’

  ‘That’s not funny.’

  The landline started to ring. I jumped and knocked over the mug I was filling with tea.

  ‘I’ll get it,’ said Adam. Tea ran off the kitchen island and splattered on the floor.

  He went to the hall, and picked up the phone. There was silence. Then he came through with the handset.

  ‘It’s Ethel. Rosencrantz is at her place.’

  ‘Thank God.’ I grabbed the phone. ‘Ethel? Is he okay?’

  ‘’E’s okay love. Well, if you call turning up at four in the morning three sheets to the wind okay… Gave the warden quite a fright ’e did. Looks like ’e ain’t seen soap an’ a flannel in days…’