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

fresh. I don’t eat hummus. You do. Maybe you’ve been eating off hummus?’
    ‘Maybe…’ I said. On that cue, Rocco appeared in the doorway wagging his tail with the pregnancy test between his teeth. He gave a cheeky little wuff of excitement, thinking a game of chase was about to be played, then darted off. I dashed after him into the living room, and he jumped up and stood on the back of the sofa.
    ‘Rocco, come here, NOW!’ I hissed.
    ‘Or do you want to be bent over the sofa?’ asked Adam coming into the living room unbuttoning his shirt. ‘What’s Rocco got in his mouth?’ he added. Rocco spat out the pregnancy test on the sofa cushion.
    ‘Ooh there’s my iPod,’ I said grabbing it.
    ‘Isn’t your iPod green?’
    I put the test behind my back. I bit my lip.
    ‘Coco, what is it?’ he asked. I took a deep breath and showed him. I saw the penny slowly drop. He looked between the pregnancy test and me. Rocco barked again.  
    ‘No…No…’ he shook his head. ‘We’ve been using… Condoms.’  
    He sat on the sofa. I sat beside him.
    ‘There was that one time we didn’t, remember? Before The X Factor Live show,’ I said. Adam picked up the test and stared at it.
    ‘Bloody hell. We’re going to be parents!’ he grinned. It shocked me, the ease with which he said it.
    ‘Hang on, hang on, hang on… We are?’ I said.
    ‘Aren’t we?’ said Adam, his face clouding over. ‘When did you find out?’  
    ‘When you were out.’  
    ‘Do I have a say in the decision?’
    ‘I haven’t made a decision. All I’ve had time to do is pee on a piece of plastic and freak out!’
    ‘You don’t want it?’  
    ‘I don’t know… I’m forty-four, I’ve had a son, you’ve got a daughter already.’
    ‘Coco. Having a child is such an amazing experience!’
    ‘Oh, you’re an expert are you?’ I asked. ‘You’ve done your bit, ten minutes in front of the X Factor and that’s you finished.’
    ‘Hang on!’
    ‘No. Adam. Are you mad? Me, have a baby?’
    ‘Why not?’
    ‘Why not? I’ll get fat, and have piles and stretch marks on top of the ones I’ve already got. And when I’ve been through the agony of childbirth, it’s not over – there’s years of clearing up poo and being responsible for a life. Then we’ll finally wave it off to college – if it hasn’t become a drug addict or a porn star – and I’ll be…’
    ‘You’d be sixty-two,’ he said helpfully.
    ‘ SIXTY-TWO! Being a man you’re going to get more and more sexy, and they’ll think I’m your mother when we walk down the street… I’ve got a career I’m just starting to make work, and I want to go on some nice holidays.’  
    I gave a heaving sob and burst into tears. Adam pulled me into him for a hug.
    ‘Okay, it’s okay,’ he said stroking my hair. Rocco barked and put his paws on my leg.
    ‘Let’s do another test,’ said Adam. ‘They aren’t 100% accurate…’
    ‘Ok,’ I said hopefully.
     
    We dashed upstairs, and I peed on the second test. PREGNANT 9 WEEKS showed up again.
    ‘How accurate are these things?’ I asked.
    ‘Pregnancy tests are ninety-seven to ninety-nine percent accurate,’ said Adam reading the leaflet. Clinging onto that two percent chance, I sent Adam back round to the station to buy more.  
    Several pints of water later, we were both in the bathroom perched on the edge of the bath and staring at a row of eight pregnancy tests lined up on the radiator under the window.  
    They all read: PREGNANT 9 WEEKS.  
    ‘You should make an appointment with the doctor,’ said Adam, who was now quiet as things were sinking in.
    ‘Do you think there’s a problem?’  
    ‘Course not, but you’ll need to have a check up and a scan, won’t you? Was ultrasound invented when you had Rosencrantz?’
    I turned to him.
    ‘What?’ he said.
    ‘Of course it was invented, it was 1989!’
    I’m going to see the doctor tomorrow. Surely it’s not natural that I have to wear reading