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

taxi,’ said Adam. Then Ethel appeared in the kitchen doorway. Rocco ran up to her for a cuddle.  
    ‘’Ello loves,’ she said putting a Tesco bag down on the kitchen island.
    ‘What are you doing here?’ I asked.
    ‘Oh thas’ nice, good to see you too Coco,’ she said taking off her coat and folding it over a chair. ‘I’m ’ere fer Chris.’
    Rosencrantz gave her a big hug.
    ‘Ooh you smell nice love,’ she said. ‘Woss that you’ve got on?’
    ‘It’s the new Paco Raban,’ he said. ‘A two month anniversary present from Oscar.’
    ‘Is ’e comin’ tonight? Seeing as I’m the only one not invited,’ she said.
    ‘No. He’s up north, filming a part in Emmerdale. He’s a sexy passerby who mends a puncture for Lisa Dingle,’ said Rosencrantz. His voice had a tinge of bitterness.
    ‘Gawd she’s a poor old cow Lisa Dingle…’ said Ethel. She went and hugged Adam and Marika.
    ‘I didn’t hear the doorbell. How did you get in?’ I asked.
    ‘If you really don’t want visitors, you should put the deadbolt on Coco,’ she said poking at some mahi mahi on a plate. ‘Someone could break in and ’ave is way with you, although I think you’d be safe… ’ow far gone are you?’
    ‘I’m eighteen weeks,’ I said, as she hugged me.
    ‘Thas’ gonna be a big baby! Congratulations.’  
    ‘Thank you. Now can I have your key?’ I put out my hand and she reluctantly placed another door key in my palm.
    ‘I’ve never met a real life Lord before,’ said Ethel. ‘Well, I once went backstage in Bromley and met Michael Flatley after ‘Lord of the Dance’ , but I don’t think that counts…’
    ‘Chris wants to be treated normally. He’s just lost his father,’ I said.
    ‘I din’t come empty ’anded,’ said Ethel pulling three bottles of Lambrini out of the Tesco bag.
    ‘Ah Lambrini,’ said Marika. ‘We used to mix this with Blue Bols, didn’t we Cokes? What did we call it?’
    ‘Anti-freeze,’ I grinned.
    ‘Sounds hardcore,’ said Adam.
    ‘It was, there was this one time Coco got so drunk that she…’ Marika saw everyone’s expectant faces. ‘Maybe that’s a story for another time…’
    ‘’Ow much money do you think Chris ’as got now?’ asked Ethel, changing the subject.
    ‘Ethel his dad isn’t even cold, let’s talk about something else.’
    ‘We’re all thinking it, Mum,’ said Rosencrantz sheepishly.
    ‘I heard ninety million,’ said Adam.
    ‘I heard a hundred,’ said Marika.
    ‘An ’undred million quid!’ shrieked Ethel.
    ‘Whatever we’ve heard. We’re just going to act normally,’ I said. ‘Chris is grieving.’  
    ‘An ’undred bloody million quid!’ cried Ethel again.
    The doorbell rang.  
    ‘Shit, do I ’ave to cursty?’ she asked.
    ‘I Googled greeting a Lord, and you have to use his title unless he invites you to call him otherwise,’ said Rosencrantz.
    ‘That’s ridiculous,’ I said. ‘No one is curtseying, or calling him anything other than Chris.’
    The doorbell rang again and we all fussed our way to the hall. When I opened the door, Chris was standing in the drizzle, looking nothing like a Lord. He was wearing a gold bomber jacket, ripped jeans, and sliver high-top trainers.
    ‘Oh Coco!’ he said falling into my arms on the doorstep. His blond hair was sticking wildly out from under a baseball cap and he had foregone his contact lenses for glasses. We all gave him a hug.
    ‘Yer Lordship,’ said Ethel, and she squatted down as if she’d stopped in a motorway lay-by to relieve herself.  
    ‘Please, no Ethel, get up,’ said Chris. She stayed in her squatted down position.
    ‘Ethel, get up!’ I said.
    ‘I can’t,’ she groaned. ‘My bloody knees ’ave gorn!’ Marika and Rosencrantz pulled at her arms, and Ethel slowly rose to a standing position with a loud click.
    ‘I won’t do that again yer Lordship, if you don’t mind love,’ she said.
    ‘Don’t do it ever, I just want to be normal,’ said Chris.