Coco Pinchard, the Consequences of Love and Sex: A Funny, Feel-Good, Romantic Comedy (12 page)

There was a pause and we lay there.

‘You own your flat Adam,’ I said remembering.

‘The bank owns most of my flat,’ he said. ‘And it comes with its own elderly prostitute…’

With that he turned over, clicked off the light, and within minutes he was snoring. I stayed awake for a long time mulling over what he had said.
 

Saturday 3rd March

Chris was here for one night before his mother tracked him down. Lady Cheshire sent the family solicitor, Mr Spencer, who knocked on the door on Friday night. He was terribly polite but told Chris in no uncertain terms that his presence was required
immediately
.

We drove Chris up to Cheshire Hall this morning. I had to sell the Land Rover last year, and its replacement, a rusty second-hand Fiat Panda could only cope with a few of Chris’s cases; even then it was almost scraping the tarmac on the motorway.
 

When we turned into the gothic iron gates of Cheshire Hall, it started to rain. The Fiat’s suspension creaked and groaned on the gravel driveway, which went on for miles, past acres of fields and trees. Chris became more agitated. I stared up at the canopy of bare trees as their reflections moved across the windscreen and hoped that he would be okay. Then Cheshire Hall rose up from the gravel road ahead. An imposing Jacobean mansion with lots of cream carved stone, red brick, proud windows and a grey roof. Chris now owns the place with its seventeen bedrooms, a ballroom, library, billiard room, umpteen reception rooms and fully-functioning servants’ quarters. Two fields away we could just make out the squat factory, where the Cheshire brand paper napkins are manufactured and shipped all over the world. Chris is now Managing Director and majority shareholder in this multi-million pound company. I looked at him wrestling with the wrapper on his Starburst. How was he not prepared for this day?

 
Adam parked the Fiat outside the main doors, and we climbed out. Lady Edwina came bowling down the steps in her wax jacket and wellingtons. She has terrible teeth and a bowl cut of bristly steel-coloured hair. The Honourable Rebecca (Chris’s sister, blonde, in padded hairband, and matching wax jacket and wellington boots) followed, and six Labradors all poured out after them. Rocco was soon surrounded by them and whined nervously, so Adam scooped him up.

‘Chris-tah-fah, what are you doing in that car?’ asked Lady Edwina, horrified.

‘Coco and Adam were kind enough to give me a lift,’ he said.

‘You didn’t have to take them up on it darling,’ she said. ‘Even the man who empties the septic tank has a nicer car.’

‘Thanks,’ I said.

‘No Coco, I don’t mean to be rude but this is Lord Cheshire! He must travel in style… There is probably more horsepower in one of Rebecca’s
marital aides
.
’

‘Mummy!’ shrieked Rebecca.

‘Come on darling, we all love dear old Squiffy but he’s far more interested in Tom.’

‘My husband is not interested in the gardener!’ said Rebecca.
 

‘Darling, there’s nothing wrong with turning a blind eye. Of course if he was
my
gardener, you know what I’d do…’

Rebecca blinked back some tears.

‘Now Coco, Adam. Would you like some tea?’ asked Lady Edwina. We climbed the steps and were shown through the huge oak front door into a hall with a giant red-carpeted staircase. We took a left into a fabulous drawing room with classical paintings on the walls and a huge stone fireplace. It was like being in a National Trust stately home, but there were no roped off bits, and Lady Cheshire’s iPod was strewn across a 17th
-
century table.
 

‘I thought Lord Cheshire might want to ring the bell,’ said Lady Edwina. Chris looked around.
 

‘She means you!’ snapped Rebecca. He squeaked meekly over in his high top trainers and pulled the bell by the fireplace. He didn’t know what to do next, so came back to his place beside me. I opened my mouth to say how sorry I was for their loss but Lady Edwina interrupted,

‘Were the roads dry?’

‘Um, yes…’ I said.

‘Now you’re the chap who went to prison? Business fraud wasn’t it?’ said Lady Edwina sizing up Adam.

‘He was wrongly imprisoned, someone in his company set him up,’ I said. Adam gave me a calming look.

‘Yes, and Lord Cheshire was very kind,’ said Adam. ‘He pulled some strings and speeded up my transfer to a category D prison. He was a really good man. I’m sorry for your loss.’

‘Thank you,’ said Lady Edwina. She looked as if she was going to cry. She leant across to Rocco who was still in Adam’s arms and scratched him behind the ears.

‘What a handsome little chap,’ she said. ‘Is he a Maltese?’

‘Yes, he’s called Rocco,’ I said. Rocco gave a contented sigh and licked her hand.

‘Where is Sofia?’ said Chris.

‘Your sister will be back tonight,’ said Lady Edwina. ‘She’s been in Zimbabwe, talking about buying a stake in a diamond mine. Apparently President Mugabe is an absolute
sweetie.
’

Chris looked horrified.

‘Right Christopher,’ she said going over to the fireplace and giving the bell another pull. ‘We’ve got a meeting about the funeral at one, and then someone from Coutts will be here to record your signature and run you through the accounts.’

‘For fucks sake!’
 
Shrilled Rebecca. ‘He comes in and suddenly it’s all his! Do you know
anything
about this place? Anything about how it runs?’

‘Pull yourself together Rebecca,’ said Lady Edwina.

‘No! The house, the business, it’s all his now because he was born with
a penis
? A penis which he doesn’t even stick in the right places!’ Rebecca’s chubby little face was bright red now. A young girl arrived carrying a wide tray covered in a china tea set. Everyone was quiet as she laid it out on the table.

‘Thank you Louise, that’ll be all,’ said Lady Edwina. We took our seats round the table. She sat down and picked up a small plate with slivers of lemon arranged in a fan shape.

‘Oh for God’s sake! That stupid girl has forgotten the tongs.’

‘Daddy is dead! And all you worry about is how you’re going to put the lemon in your tea? Well I’ll tell you where you can put it!’ said Rebecca.

‘Chris-stah-fah ring the bell again, we need tongs and Rebecca needs one of her pills,’ said Lady Edwina.

‘I think we’re going to head off Chris,’ I said.

‘No, no please don’t leave me,’ he whispered.
 

‘You all have family things to talk about.’

‘Yes. We do,’ said Lady Edwina pointedly. A servant was sent out to collect Chris’s luggage from the roof rack.

‘Promise me you’ll keep in contact,’ said Chris.

‘Of course,’ I said. ‘I’ll get the rest of your cases sent up here, and call me, whenever.’

 
As we drove away I glanced back at Chris waving from the front door. It felt like we were leaving a little kid on his first day at school.
 

‘When’s the funeral?’ asked Adam as we pulled out of the gates and onto the country road. He changed gear to accelerate but the car screamed in protest. I winced.

‘I don’t know. They’ll probably spend so long arguing over the house and money they’ll forget to bury the poor guy,’ I said.
 

‘They don’t seem very happy.’

‘Someone just died.’

‘No, it’s more than that, like ingrained unhappiness… Aren’t you glad we’re not rich?’ Adam grinned.

‘We’re not poor!’ I snapped.

‘How come we’re driving a crappy old car then?’

Adam tried again to get the car to change gear. The engine churned and we lurched forward.

‘It’s not crappy. That teenage boy we bought it off said it was very reliable.’
 

The car began to shudder violently, and the engine died. He tried the ignition but there was no response. The car slowed to a halt in the middle of the road.
 

‘Shit!’ said Adam slapping the dashboard. ‘Shit! It was all that bloody luggage on the roof!’

‘You were grinding the gears!’

‘I was not. The clutch sticks.’

‘It doesn’t stick when I drive,’ I said.

‘Ha! You’re the expert? Didn’t you fail your test three times?’ said Adam.

‘Four. But they say it makes you a better driver.’
 

Adam tried the ignition again, nothing. I pulled my phone out. I didn’t have a signal, nor did he.

‘So what do two poor people do next?’ asked Adam. ‘Revel in the fact we haven’t got too much money to tie us down?’

‘Shut up. I’m thinking.’

It was suddenly very quiet. The car rocked as the wind roared across the fields surrounding the road, making ripples in the grass. Adam tried to put the hazard lights on, but the car was dead.

‘We’re in the middle of the road. We’re going to have to move it to the verge,’ said Adam. ‘Come on, let’s push.’

‘I’m pregnant.’

‘Oh yeah,’ he said.

‘You forgot?’

‘Coco, look at the bigger picture!’
 

Adam got out of the car and told me to steer. I clambered over to the driver’s side and put the car in neutral. Adam went round to the back and started to push. The car wouldn’t budge. He strained and pushed harder. He came back round and I rolled down the window.

‘I think you’ll have to get out, you’re too heavy.’

‘I’m not that heavy,’ I said.

‘It’s okay, it’s normal to put on a bit of baby weight.’

 
Then I noticed that the hand brake was on.

‘So you didn’t think I might have the handbrake on? You just think I’m some big fat lump of ballast stopping the car?’

We were still bickering twenty minutes later when a black Mercedes purred up beside us. The tinted windows slid down.

‘Need a lift?’ asked Rebecca. We turned and grinned awkwardly.

Rebecca’s car was seriously cool. White leather heated seats, a screen on the dashboard showing CNN. She dropped Adam off at the local garage and then took me back to London.

‘This is very good of you,’ I said when we were on the M25. Rocco sighed comfortably on my lap and began to snore. Rebecca glanced at me nervously.

‘Coco, can I talk to you about something?’ she asked.

‘Don’t worry, I know plenty of people who use, um, marital aides,’ I said.

‘What? No, not that. I wanted to see if you could talk to Christopher.’

‘About what?’

‘I think you know,’ she said carefully.

‘You want me to talk to him about the inheritance?’ I asked.

‘Yes.’

‘Why me?’

‘He adores you, you’re probably the closet person in the world to him.’

I was now feeling uncomfortable.

‘That’s why we’re so close Rebecca. We never discuss his, business.’

‘It should be my business Coco, and Sophia’s. We worked with our father for fifteen years. Chris has just… well he’s been Chris.’

‘Do you think dropping me off in London earns you the right to ask me?’

‘I’ve got some business in London, and I’m meeting Squiffy at Annabel’s later,’ she shrilled, her pudgy face going red again. ‘And a bloody lift must be worth something?’

‘It’s not worth a hundred million quid Rebecca.’

‘Coco it’s very common to talk about money
...
And it’s all tied up you know.’

We were silent for the rest of the journey. When we pulled up at my house I said,
‘
Don’t ever try to use me to manipulate your brother. He is one of the kindest most loyal people I know.’

Rebecca remained stony faced and said nothing. As I watched her Mercedes purr away, I was inexplicably jealous. She lives in a velvet-lined pocket of British life I can only dream of. Now with this baby coming I realise how tenuous it all is. Adam is right, being poor stinks.

Just after I got indoors Adam phoned to say the Fiat is dead, which I already knew. We can either spend thousands on a new engine, or buy a new car. Neither is an option. The garage had offered him £50 to take the car away for scrap. I told him to take it.

Adam got home a few hours later. His train ticket home had cost £49.95. So, essentially, we sold our car for five pence.

Wednesday 7th March

Adam had three interviews on Monday. He’s now had phone calls from all of them saying he hasn’t got the job. He’s been told he is ‘overqualified’ that he’s ‘not got the correct skills mix’ and that ‘despite a strong CV other candidates have more to offer.’

On our morning walk with Rocco I asked him to go through what had happened.

‘Were you on time?’ I asked.

‘Yes!’

‘Do you think it’s your age?’
 

‘The other candidates I waited with were my age,’ he said.

‘Do you think they’re racist?’

‘Three of the guys who interviewed me were black, so I doubt it.’

‘What about your skills mix?’

‘Coco, I’ve worked in management for years…’

‘Did you brush your teeth before the interview?’ I asked, exasperated.

‘Coco! I just didn’t get the job!’ he said.

I know he needs comforting, but I’m so worried about money and how we’ll manage. I’m nearly halfway through my pregnancy and my second scan is looming on the horizon. The make or break one where we find out if the baby is healthy.

When we got home I had a message from the bank to call urgently. I phoned back, and a snotty bloke in their call centre told me our account was several hundred pounds overdrawn, and asked if we were planning to put any money in, as it’s an unauthorised overdraft. We did some detective work and discovered Tabitha hasn’t paid her rent.
 

Thursday 8th March

We’ve tried calling Tabitha, and Adam has been round to the flat, but she’s not answering. He went off to another job interview this morning, so I decided to go and pay her a visit. Tabitha wouldn’t be able to wind me round her little finger like Adam.

 
I rang her bell repeatedly, but no one answered. Her curtains were drawn in the window at the front. Then I thought, what about the window at the back? It looks out onto a tiny concrete garden, which I vaguely remembered could be accessed by a little side gate. I walked round the side of the building to the back, and found the gate. It was a little taller than me and made of dark stout wood, beside it was a big square concrete flowerpot full of weeds. I thought about it for a minute, checked no one was looking, and using the pot, heaved myself up and managed to get one leg over the gate. Then I realised there was nothing to step down onto on the other side! I sat there wobbling astride the gate. I could see some people crossing at the traffic lights and coming towards me. I panicked, wobbled some more, and threw my other leg over. Using my arms I half slithered, half fell onto the concrete on the other side. I managed to land on my feet, but yanked my shoulder supporting my weight. I had to wait a few minutes until the pain passed, then took stock of where I was. I was in a dark and narrow passageway. The four-storey wall of Adam’s building was on one side, and the four storey wall of the next building on the other. I squeezed my way down the passage, feeling the bricks brush against my shoulders, until the passage opened out to a tiny square of concrete.