Coco Pinchard's Big Fat Tipsy Wedding: A Funny Feel-Good Romantic Comedy (26 page)

Rosencrantz came over this afternoon and we had a glass of wine in the garden. He said that he had been on a mission for Adam.

'What do you mean?' I said lighting us both a cigarette. He pulled a bag from his rucksack and handed it over.

'What’s this?'
 

'Well, open it Mum, obviously,' he said. Inside was a copy of Adele’s 21 album and a digital watch.

'It’s not my birthday for a few more weeks,’ I said.

'There’s a note too,' said Rosencrantz. He had Rocco on his lap who was straining to see inside the bag. I pulled out this note. I was so touched I thought I should attach it.

ATTACHMENT ADAM1

‘Adam also says to say sorry. He can’t call you until next week as arranging this burned out his phone card,’ said Rosencrantz. I nodded gratefully.

‘And make sure you listen at exactly the right time,' he said, putting the watch on my wrist.

'I will,' I said wiping my eyes.

I have a date on Saturday night!

Monday 30th May
 
16.37

TO: [email protected]

Thank you again for sorting out the Adele CD. I listened at exactly 8.30pm and I really did feel close to Adam. I also loved 21, no wonder everyone is talking about it. It’s wonderful.

I just met your Nan for a cup of tea at The Brockley Mess cafe. It was warm and sunny so we sat out on the pavement. She had just been to put flowers on your grandad Wilf’s grave. He passed away thirty-one years ago.
 

I was expecting her to be quite melancholy but she stomped up to the table and slammed down her best gloves and handbag.

'I’m fuming!' she said. ‘Bloody Wilf.’

'Did someone vandalise his grave?'
 

'No, iss covered in Pigeon shit, and I just broke me emery board trying to scrape the damn stuff orf.’ She pulled out two halves of her nail file and held them up.

'It’s not Wilf’s fault,' I said.

'Isn’t it?' she said. 'You know ‘e was a Pigeon Fancier? That ‘ead stone attracts scores of the little buggers and they shit all over it. Even from beyond the grave e’s still winding me up.’

After we ordered some tea, I told her about Adam and the Adele 21 album listening thing.

'Oh that Adam, e’s good as gold, such a shame e’s in the slammer,’ said Ethel. ‘I love Adele, all us old girls at the ‘ome ave got 21. She can’t alf sing.'

'I love
Rolling In The Deep
and
Someone Like You
breaks my heart,' I said.

'My favourite is,
Set Fire To Lorraine
,' said Ethel sipping her tea.

'No, its Set Fire To The Rain,' I said.

'No Coco, its
Set Fire To Lorraine
,’ she said.

'No it’s not…'
 

‘It is!’

‘No!’

'Coco, love, you’ve just got the bloody album, I’ve ‘ad in on a loop since Pancake Tuesday, and I'm tellin' ya, its
Set Fire To Lorraine
.'

'It’s not!' I said. 'It’s a metaphor, setting fire to the rain.'

'Listen love. If you’d read up on it, and iss been in the papers a lot, you’d know Adele writ the album about a painful breakup, and this song is about ‘ow much she ‘ates the other woman, hence
Set Fire To Lorraine
.'

'So Adele is singing about wanting to burn another woman to death?' I said.

'Yeah, ask anyone… Gawd Coco I never thought I’d be more hip than you.'

‘Adele is more elegant than that!’ I said. ‘A woman would never sing about setting fire to another woman.’

‘Wouldn’t she? I bet you’d love to dump a pyrex full of unleaded on that Sabrina and set a match to it!’

The argument went on, and in the end I tried phoning everyone to confirm it was Set Fire To The Rain, but no one was answering. I even asked the waiter but he didn’t know, the damn fool. The argument progressed to raised voices and in the end, I was so annoyed I got up and stormed back home. When I got in, I grabbed 21 out of the drawer. IT IS
Set Fire To The Rain
!

I hate it when Ethel thinks she knows it all. Remember that whole episode a few Christmases ago when she insisted that John Bon Jovi was called Long John Bovis? — And when your Aunt Meryl had the ‘Radioactive Thyroid’?

UGH!

Anyway, sorry to go on. Thank you again love. And if you see your Nan, tell her its Set Fire To The Rain!

Mum xxx

June

Monday 6th June
 
10.19

TO [email protected]

For Prisoner AG26754 - Adam Rickard

I went to the Christening of Wilfred on Saturday. It was just as hideous as I thought it would be. In fact, its hideousness exceeded expectations.

Rosencrantz wormed his way out of going. He was rehearsing for a new acting job, a TIE tour of London schools called
The Don’t Drink Or Do Drugs Puppet Show.
 

I travelled up to Milton Keynes with Ethel and Daniel. I haven’t seen her since the Set Fire To The Rain/Lorraine argument and I haven’t seen Daniel since, well I can’t remember. We were all broke, so we took the SuperBus from Victoria Coach Station. It only cost a pound each way, but you could see every penny of it in the battered dirty seats. All the windows were painted shut so we sweltered in our synthetic fabric christening outfits. I wore a rose coloured suit, Ethel was in some flowery creation, and a Queen Mother style hat with feathers, which shed everywhere and stuck to our sweaty skin. Daniel wore a brown suit.

'What yer doin’ in that old thing?' said Ethel looking at him in dismay as we took our seats on the coach. ‘There’s gonna be posh people at this christening!’

'I paid a hundred and fifty quid for this suit,' said Daniel.

'iss bloody brown, and yer’ve got black shoes on!’
 

'What do you think Coco?' he said.

'It looks nice,' I said truthfully.
 

'Thanks Cokes,' he said gratefully.

'An what about yer bloody hair!' said Ethel. Daniel has grown his hair out, and it now hangs past his shoulders in a good mix of salt and pepper. He also has a short beard, scruff I think they call it. I sat there looking at him with a tinge of pity as Ethel told him was ‘a shambles’ and that he was ‘entering a house of God and not a betting shop.’

'I blame Rosencrantz,' she trilled as the coach pulled away from the station. 'Ever since ‘e bought yer that True Blood box set for yer birthday, you’ve fancied yerself as one of them Werewolves!'

‘I’m sorry, I completely forgot your birthday,' I said to Daniel.

'It’s all right Cokes,' he said kindly. 'You’ve had a lot on your plate.’

'An yer unemployed,' went on Ethel. 'Why don’t you go the whole hog and ave yer dole book poking out of yer top pocket’?
 

'Leave it Mum!' he snapped. The engine squealed loudly as we hit the ramp onto the M25. It didn’t stop as we met the traffic and nudged into the slow lane.

‘Gawd what a racket,’ said Ethel. ‘scuse me! Driver? Can you put the radio on?' The Driver switched on the radio and Magic FM blared through the Coach.

'Maybe they’ll play Set Fire To Lorraine,’ I said.

'Or that other Adele classic; Chasing Payments,' said Daniel. 'Written about a debt collector who was sick of his job.’ We both burst out laughing.
 

'Aren’t you two meant to be divorced?' snapped Ethel, but we kept laughing. She finally shut up and spent the rest of the journey scowling at the motorway as we rumbled towards Milton Keynes. I had a good chat with Daniel. He hasn’t been able to find any work, and has been claiming Jobseekers Allowance for four months.

'I never thought one of mine would end up down the labour exchange,' interrupted Ethel. 'You should be working! Yer not even fifty!'

Daniel said he is living in Croydon, in a one bedroom flat with a ‘housemate’ a female musician called Natalie who plays the bassoon.
 

‘Course ‘e ‘aint introduced me to er,’ interrupted Ethel again.

‘I don’t want to scare her off!’ said Daniel.

‘Thas’ not fair Danny,’ said Ethel. ‘I made you very welcome we you were courting, didn’t I Coco?’ Daniel and me burst out laughing again.

When we got to Milton Keynes, we took a taxi to the church, and it was nearly full when we got there. Tony and Meryl seem to have undergone a makeover. Gone are his shiny beige suits, slip on shoes and string ties, and Meryl has dropped the frumpy floral dresses. I spied them in the second row of pews, sporting sleek haircuts. Tony was wearing an Armani suit and Aviator shades, and Meryl a powder blue Chanel suit topped off with a Philip Treacy hat. If you squinted your eyes you could, almost, have mistaken them for the Middleton’s. Wilfred was sat on Meryl’s knee wearing a long lace-christening outfit.

‘Did they save me a place?’ said Ethel pulling a disposable camera out of her handbag. I saw that they hadn’t.
 

‘Oh,’ she said, her face crumpling. We took a seat in a pew at the back just as the service began. Meryl and Tony weren’t too happy having to share Wilfred’s christening with a little Chinese boy called Richard. She informed everyone in the congregation during the photos that his parents ‘do a lovely Kung Pao chicken.’
 

After the service, we walked back to Meryl and Tony’s for the buffet. They had paid for a huge Marquee in the garden and everything that wasn’t nailed down was branded with the
Funeral Pieces
logo, (a coffin with a cartoon hand emerging from under the lid giving the thumbs up).
 

Meryl seemed rather embarrassed of me, Ethel and Daniel, and we stood out a bit amongst the elite of Milton Keynes, lots of comfortable tanned local businessmen with their sleek wives, and some distinguished older couples from the tennis club.
 

They all seem to have been tipped off that you were in jail, and their interest was bordering on the macabre. I was grilled by several of them as the waiters circulated with trays of Pimms. One thin-faced woman in an M&S twinset and pearls was eager to know all about prison life. Asking questions about shanking, razor wire, drugs, and murder. She was desperate for even snippet of information — and positively devoured the story about The Dairylea Stabber. Why is it that the British middle class is so obsessed with scandal, sex, and murder?

I was just telling Ethel to slow down on the Pimms (she’d had six glasses) when Tony tapped his glass and went to make a speech. Meryl was stood beside him holding Wilfred.

‘My Lords, Ladies and Gentlemen welcome,’ he said into a microphone.

‘Who ere’s a Lord?’ said Ethel loudly. ‘No one?’ There was an awkward silence. Meryl made eyes at me to shut Ethel up. Tony went on,

‘I’d like to thank you all for coming to this the Christening of Wilfred Ogilvy Thatcher Watson, our little miracle.’

‘Yeah, ‘e is a miracle. Did yer know, they thought Meryl was barren!’ said Ethel loudly. Everyone turned round to look at her. Tony swallowed and went on,

‘Please enjoy the food, it’s lovely to see you all here.’ Then Meryl grabbed the microphone and shifted Wilfred onto her other hip.

‘If you do get the chance, please log on to www.funeralpieces.co.uk,’ she said. ‘We have everything you need to give a loved one the send off they truly deserve… Now I have something very exciting. Wilfred has been learning a little poem and he’d like to share it with you all.’

She put the microphone to Wilfred’s mouth, and started to recite lines from
The Lake Isle Of Innisfree
, but Wilfred was having none of it and made barking noises.

‘Now come on Wilfred,’ said Meryl getting angry at the poor boy. ‘Mummy will start again,
I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree…
’ Wilfred batted the microphone away.

‘Oh fer gawds sake give the little bugger a break!’ said Ethel.

‘I’m sorry, I don’t know who that is,’ said Meryl.

‘It’s all right,’ said Ethel. ‘I’m only the fucking Nanna… Ello Wilfred, iss me Nanna!’ Wilfred saw her and clapped his hands in delight.

‘Mum! Really!’ shrilled Meryl. 'Not in front of Wilfred, I’d hate his first word to be…’

‘Oh chill out Meryl,’ said Ethel. ‘e’s got the best of everything… e’ll be fine.’ She noticed everyone looking at her in disgust. ‘E’re you see how posh Meryl looks in ‘er posh garden with you poshos? Well what you don’t know is, that she was very nearly a bastard!’

‘Right we need to leave, NOW!’ said Daniel. We grabbed Ethel one under each arm and dragged her away from the marquee.

'She was!' shouted Ethel as we passed horrified faces, 'I 'ad to walk down the aisle in white with a huge bump!'

I finally got home at eleven in the evening. The SuperBus had to keep stopping in lay-bys on the M25 so Ethel could be sick.

I had a long bath and I thanked god I am with you Adam, and that waiting for us when you are released is the most wonderful life.

All my love, Coco xxxx

Saturday 11th June
 
22.47

TO: [email protected]

I was in the middle of my regular Adele listening party with Adam when someone buzzed at the door.
 

'I’ve been calling you for ages,' said Holly, Adam’s daughter. 'I had to get the train from Heathrow.'