Coco Pinchard, the Consequences of Love and Sex: A Funny, Feel-Good, Romantic Comedy Read Free

he lived here?’
    ‘Iss not breaking in when you’ve got a key,’ she said.
    ‘Come on you. Out!’ I said prodding her towards the kitchen door.
    ‘I think ’e was a bit of a playboy. There was always a different bra on the carpet, and often not the bedroom carpet!’ she said.
    ‘Out!’
    ‘You’re looking very peaky,’ she said as I shooed her to the front door.
    ‘I’ve been sick the last couple of mornings,’ I said. ‘I thought it was my time of the month, but… anyway.’
    ‘I’d get yerself down the doctor’s love,’ she said as I opened the door. ‘Sounds like you’re on the verge of the change.’
    ‘I am not having the change!’ I said with horror.
    ‘When did you last ’ave one of yer monthlies?’ she asked stepping out onto the front step.
    ‘None of your business.’  
    Then I realised that my last period had been back in… well, November?
    ‘Menopause love,’ she nodded sagely. ‘’Appens to us all in the end.’
    ‘Can I have the key please Ethel?’ She reluctantly placed it in my outstretched palm and stomped off to the front gate. ‘And I’m not menopausal,’ I called after her.  
    ‘Well congratulations love,’ she said rolling her eyes. ‘You must be pregnant!’ she slammed the gate and stalked off down the street.
    I came back inside and tried to unpack some boxes, but I kept hearing Ethel’s voice:
    Well congratulations love, you must be pregnant .
      Seized with fear, I grabbed my coat, walked round to the Boots at Marylebone Station, and bought a pregnancy testing kit. I felt a fool, really. What business have I got buying a pregnancy testing kit? I’m forty-four years old with a son in his twenties.  
    It must be the menopause, I thought as I queued up at the till, but that little chink of pride in me was hoping I was still fertile, fertile enough at least to have a near-miss.  
    I studied the girl behind the till as she put the Blue Pulse Pregnancy Test through and swiped my credit card. What was she thinking? Is she buying it for herself or her teenage daughter? I realised that either way I was a middle-aged mother, or a grandmother.
    ‘I work with troubled teens,’ I said trying to throw her off the scent, but she merely looked bored and bagged up the pregnancy test.
    When I got home I hurriedly tore the box open and, balancing awkwardly, peed on the stick. Technology has moved on so much that I nearly fell off the toilet when it wasn’t a blue line that swam into view, but the words: PREGNANT 9 WEEKS

    A chill swept through me. Shaking my head, I tore the rest of the cardboard off the second test in the packet and went to pee on it, but I had nothing left to pee. I looked for the toothpaste glass but it still wasn’t unpacked. Cursing, I pulled up my jeans, ran downstairs and filled up a pint glass downing it quickly, water dribbling down the corners of my mouth and onto my t-shirt.
    The front door slammed and Rocco came bounding in, followed by Adam.
    ‘Hey sexy,’ he said. He pulled the newspapers out of a carrier bag and put them on the kitchen island. Rocco had a drink from his bowl then ran out of the kitchen.
    ‘Has it been a fertile morning?’ said Adam.
    ‘What?’  
    ‘You said you might unpack a bit?’ he added, looking round at the cardboard boxes.
    ‘Oh, yes, yes…’ I nodded. I straightened my hair and tried to look normal.
    ‘Hey hey!’ he grinned holding up the page three girl in the Sun . She was pouting, her pert nipples straining from a see-through wet t-shirt. I looked down and saw my own t-shirt had gone transparent.
    ‘That’s disgusting!’ I snapped crossing my arms over my breasts.
    ‘You are so much hotter than she is,’ grinned Adam. ‘How do you fancy being bent over the kitchen island?’
    ‘Maybe later…’
    Adam opened the fridge and put a new carton of milk in the door. He felt the inside.
    ‘You know, you being sick could be this fridge. It feels a bit warm… maybe it’s not keeping the food