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

any good, up and down the stairs.’
    ‘We’re sleeping downstairs too, until we get unpacked,’ I said. Mrs Cohen tried to see past me into the hallway.
    ‘So you’ll stop all that flushing? We’re stuck downstairs until Mr Cohen gets to the top of the list.’
    ‘List?’
    ‘He’s on the waiting list for a new hip. So? No more flushing?’
    ‘The reason I’m flushing the toilet so much, is because, I’m pregnant.’
    Mrs. Cohen’s mouth fell open; it stayed close to her chin long enough for me to count six fillings.
    ‘Oh, um, congratulations,’ she said composing herself. She looked at me with a horrified curiosity. ‘Was it expensive? The IVF?’
    ‘It wasn’t IVF.’
    ‘But you’re…’ she was going to say old but just stopped herself.
    ‘I’m forty-four and I conceived naturally.’
    ‘Shouldn’t you be in bed ?’
    ‘I’m not ill, I’m pregnant.’
    ‘Well, um, you should get unpacked, and then take it easy, Mrs Pinchard…’
    She turned in her curlers and staggered off down the steps. She looked back at me with a pained smile. I closed the door, and joined Adam and Rocco on the sofa.
    ‘Who was that?’ asked Adam.
    ‘Mrs Cohen… Am I freakishly old to be having a baby?’
    ‘Don’t ask me trick questions so early in the morning,’ mumbled Adam into his pillow.
    ‘This isn’t a trick question. I’m talking medically. I’m serious.’
    ‘What did the doctor say?’
    ‘You were there, he said, wait in the waiting room . ’
    ‘What about the midwife?’
    ‘Nothing really, she is rather young and inexperienced.’
    ‘Didn’t Jane Seymour have twins? And that was way back in the fifteen hundreds.’
    ‘No. That was the other Jane Seymour, Dr Quinn Medicine woman.’
    ‘Oh yeah,’ said Adam and then started to snore.
    I couldn’t sleep so I fired up my laptop and scared myself even more. I scoured the internet but found conflicting information. It said, many older women have healthy babies at 45, 46 or 47, and also lots miscarry in the first stages of the pregnancy. Typical internet, gives you all the answers but also none of them.

    I took the train over to see Marika in South London. I’d been avoiding her calls again, and in her last message she’d said how concerned she was about my well being.
    I’d agreed to meet her on One Tree Hill, just down from her flat in Honor Oak Park. I got there early, and sat down on the bench that looks out over London. It was clear and still and I could just see the London Eye turning silently in the distance. A few minutes later Marika appeared at the bottom of the hill being pulled along by two enormous Alsatians. They strained against their leads, froth dripping from their mouths. As Marika reached me, she let them both off the lead and I screamed hitching up my skirt and climbing on the bench.
    ‘They won’t hurt you, will you Steve and Bob?’ she said scratching both of them. They ran up and started to lick my leg. I looked down at their huge incisors, millimetres from my skin.
    ‘It’s okay. They love cream, hand cream, body lotion, come on, it’s okay,’ said Marika coaxing me down.
    ‘What about face cream? I put loads of face cream on,’ I said imagining my face being torn off by their appetite for L’Oréal.
    ‘I brought them something to play with,’ said Marika. ‘They’ll be fine when they settle.’ She took off her backpack and pulled out two enormous lumps of bone, covered in bloody meat. ‘Here you go boys,’ she said and tossed them away from us. The Alsatians ran over and settled down to chew.
    There was silence.
    ‘Marika, I need to talk to you,’ I said.  
    ‘Hang on,’ she said. She pulled out her phone and started to call someone.
    ‘Marika, I’m trying to tell you something,’ I said. She put the phone on speaker and held it out in front of her, like they do on reality shows. Chris answered.
    ‘Marika, is she with you?’ he asked, his voice coming through a little