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

‘Please just call me Chris.’
    ‘Come on gaylord let’s get you a strong drink,’ said Marika. ‘I take it gaylord is allowed?’
    Chris grinned bleakly.
    ‘I’ve so missed you all,’ he said. Marika took him down the hall to the kitchen.
    ‘An ’undred million quid an’ ’e dresses like that!’ whispered Ethel watching the back of his gold bomber jacket.
    ‘Stop it,’ I hissed. ‘Go and offer him some sushi!’ I followed Adam and Rosencrantz outside where they were helping the taxi driver unload a series of Louis Vuitton cases onto the pavement.
    ‘Good job you ordered him a mini van,’ I said seeing the cases pile up. ‘How many are there?’  
    ‘Fourteen’ puffed the taxi driver, red in the face. ‘Who is he? I’ve driven Joan Collins and Victoria Beckham and they pack lighter than him.’
    ‘He’s Lord Cheshire,’ piped up Rosencrantz. The taxi driver rolled his eyes and heaved another huge case.
    I went back into the kitchen where Marika was now pouring the Lambrini and Ethel was shoving a tray of mahi mahi under Chris’s nose. He was sitting on the floor cuddling Rocco.
    ‘How was your flight love?’ I asked.
    ‘So much turbulence,’ said Chris. ‘And I left my Xanax in my luggage. I had absolute clarity, which was awful.’  
    ‘Get this down you then,’ said Marika handing him a full glass. The landline began to ring, so I went and hunted for it under the luggage piling up in the hallway.  
    ‘Hello, hello? Is this Coco Pinchard?’ said a posh smoker’s voice. It was Chris’s mother.
    ‘Hello Lady Cheshire,’ I said.
    ‘I am now the Dowager Lady Cheshire… But you are correct still to address me as Lady Cheshire.’
    ‘I’m so sorry about Lord Cheshire, he was so young,’ I said.
    ‘Yes, thank you. It happened during his usual game of golf. Such bad timing too, it was his best handicap…’ she said. ‘Look I haven’t got time to chit-chat. Is Chris-tah-fah there?’  
    Chris had heard the phone ring and staggered into the hallway with his glass, making frantic movements not give his whereabouts away.
    ‘Um, no, no he’s not,’ I said. ‘I think he’s still in the air.’
    ‘Coco, I know you two are close . When you do hear from him, order him to call me. He is needed not just by me, but by the British aristocracy… Are you writing this down?’  
    ‘No I think I’ll remember, Dowager.’
    ‘Don’t call me Dowager. You’ve been watching too much bloody ‘Downton Abbey’,’ she snapped and hung up. I relayed the message to Chris.
    ‘This is all my nightmares rolled into one,’ he said. ‘She’s going to make me be Lord Cheshire. I’m going to have to wear a tie, and make complicated business decisions, and do charity work… I’ll have to plant trees. You know I’m hopeless with a spade! I’m going to look an idiot.’
    I put my arm around him.  
    ‘You only have to tip a little soil in with a polished spade. It’s just a formality… no real digging…’ I said.
    Chris buried his head in my neck and sobbed. Ethel crept into the hall with a big grin.
    ‘’Ere Chris, can I get a photo?’ before he could say yes, she held her phone out in front of us and took a picture. The picture popped up on her screen.
    ‘That’s horrible Ethel,’ he said. ‘I look jet lagged and puffy.’
    ‘Iss fine love,’ she said pocketing her phone gleefully. I dragged her into the living room.
    ‘Did you listen to anything I said?’ I hissed.
    ‘Coco, I ’ave to get a picture of me with a rich lord! Irene ’as got a picture of her and David Hasslehoff , an I never ’ear the end of it. This’ll show ’er!’
    ‘Ethel this is unacceptable. How would you like it?’
    ‘Everyone loves ’avin their photo taken,’ she said staring at the picture on her phone.
    I went to the kitchen and grabbed Ethel’s coat. I came and found her in the hall where she was peering at Chris’s cases piled high.
    ‘I bet these set ’im back a few bob,’ she