Cocoa Collins Ch. 01-05

Bert escorted Elizabeth DeLewis back to her seat and sat beside her, to huge applause.

Hammond disappeared off stage and while Cocoa was delivering her spiel, a jazz orchestra began setting up behind her.

“Welcome everyone on behalf of Jupiter. My surname is Collins and I prefer just Cocoa in my role as editor at large. I’m far from being large but my ego and my intellect are, hence no more explanation is required.”

“My mum and dad are here from Melbourne as guests of Jupiter. Stand up please Willow and Frank.”

“There you go, just two fairly typical Aussie parents.”

As the clapping stopped, Cocoa told her folk to sit.

“I celebrate my parents tonight because they hugely made me what I am. Like many teenagers, I become a little arsehole in my early teens, and left that period to become a rebel and then lo, I began modifying myself with plenty of parental support and I flew like an eagle at university, making my parents so proud. I graduated and hit a huge brick wall. I still didn’t know what the fuck I wanted to work at.”

“Fortunately, mum and dad were effluence, or should that be affluent (laughter) and packed me off to the States, after handing me $20,000 and telling me to find myself and remember to brush my hair and change my underwear daily.”

“They told me not to buy a car, so I brought a car shortly after my arrival to gain my independence and from that moment, hugely albeit slowly at first, I began to find myself, basically to acquire a level of confidence befitting for a young woman. After five months, I returned home, after receiving almost as much as I had paid for my cheap car, being a confident, happy young woman although still not knowing what was next for me.”

“My girlfriends put on a homecoming for me at our home, with my mother’s consent. Well, that was unsurprising, she tends to be like that. Then about 40 liquored up young people grate-crashed the event and I called the cops. They came in riot gear and you may had seen a that big picture of that hanging up on this building, though with a photo of me superimposed over it that. Actually, that superimposed pic taken of me by one of my girlfriends in my half-pissed state of acting relieved as miraculously the intruders were marched outside by the cops and except for five louts, were acknowledged as just being youngsters being youngsters. Go the cops.”

“This final bit is a rather delicate, but I’m telling it as I saw it.”

“People at the Jupiter involved the search for the editor at large for the secret new addition to the weekday newspaper, frustrated that they hadn’t found the almost perfect person, ah, found me. I’m blowing my trumpet. I apologize.”

There was huge cheering and hand clapping and cries of ‘Go Cocoa’.

“Thanks folk, and please remember I said ALMOST perfect candidate?”

“Please read Sydney’s only newspaper focused on our times next Tuesday and take a few seconds to consider reading the new Hey Babe! Lift-out, publication one.”

“Thank you.”

The applause was tremendous.

Bert Squires beckoned over his deputy and before he could open his mouth, she said, “I heard it too… our new logo, ‘Sydney’s only newspaper focused on our times’. It will require legalities checks and then the wording tightened. That young women is a genius."

The jazz band started up and part-way through a trumpet solo began in the left wing of the stage and the soloist marched out, playing very credibly. The player was the MC, alias Hammond Royd.

People cheered wildly, and a party was really underway and more substantial finger food became available.

The function ended at 10.30 with Hammond Royd leading the string quartet on violin into the old closure tune, ‘Now is the Hour’.

After Cocoa said goodnight to the departing special guests of the Jupiter Group (Mrs Langley and male partner had left soon after Cocoa completed her short address), Cocoa and Kelly took the weary Willow and Frank to their hotel in the limo.”

“Don’t forget to be ready at 11 am for us to pick you up in the morning for a luncheon cruise on the harbour with the Squires,” Cocoa called, as the driver was about to close the passenger door.

She then collapsed in fatigue into the arms of Kelly.

Her parents didn’t mind the glimpse of that intimacy because they thought Kelly was a delightful young lady and anyway, they had long known their daughter was bi-sexual.


Chapter 4

The launching of the Hey Babe! section in the Jupiter was huge, even better than anticipated by everyone behind the project, with women of all ages on their way to work crowding around newsstands and other outlets to buy the newspaper.

However, the test would be would the section still be performing well in a year’s time with the increase in subscriptions as well as casual sales still flourishing? At least the initial reactions were positive.

Talk-back radio stations were deluged with calls about Hey Babe!, mostly positive, with attributes pouring out such as ‘Brilliant journalism’, that ‘females are being treated as females by the news media at last’, ‘Well done baby, I mean Cocoa,’ and ‘My wife fetched the Jupiter in this morning, her hands were trembling in excitement. She’s 46 years old’ and ‘Bugger, I searched the columns and accompanying ads of Hey Babe! and didn’t find a single mention of the words, male or men. Is this the beginning of banishing males to comics?”



The 23 members at the Jupiter’s regular daily editorial conference at 2.00 stood and applauded as Bert Squires entered the room with Cocoa who Bert asked to speak.

“Thanks guys, this is hugely appreciated acclaim from my senior peers. I realize we are all segments of the same whole apple. Believe me, we’ll get even better as we on Hey Babe! proceed.”

“I make no apologies for the name, which was my suggestion, entirely, and I fought tooth and nail, mainly nails for it. Shit is raining down on the choice name today, but hey, you all know what people are like. In a week’s time any attempt to change the name and will risk facing a threatening abusive outcry. I apologise for leaving right now but I have two pre-recorded interviews to do for inclusion in tonight’s news on the two largest TV Stations of this, my adopted city.”



Australians watching network TV that evening, saw two sides of Cocoa, as arranged by her in pre-recording conversations with the directors at the two TV networks. She apparently became too convincing to refuse.

The film clip in the first channel began with a brief summary of the launch and then she was asked by the male interviewer: “Hi, Cocoa. What’s an editor at large?”

“I fitted the concept of the team leader that the Jupiter was seeking but I lacked journalism and newspaper production training.”

“So, you faced being discarded?”

“Almost, but then someone dragged from the past the concept of two editors: one to be the front person and ideas initiator and the other being the desk-bound technician and organizer. No change was made to the number of people in the authorised unit of eight but it meant I could lead from the front and that argument was accepted.”

“So, you don’t know the difference between an adjective and a participle?”

“I completed my prize-winning thesis for my Masters in Business Studies on the Inter-relationship between Buying from Lists and Impulse Buying without outside help in composing it. And for the final five years at high school I received top marks for English in exams each year for English and also for Advanced Maths.”

“Err, great comment. Do you think your new insert in one of Sydney’s morning newspapers will survive?”

“Most things will end sometime but I would think it will outlast me even if my tenure is no longer possible into the future.”

“Why do you predict longevity?”

“Because research shows it’s needed as something for young women to focus on.”

“What about newspaper editorials, reports from war correspondents, theatre reviews and so on.”

“Those will remain wrapped around our vibrant Hey Babe! section.”

“Ah, I glad you mentioned that name. Apparently, controversy is raging today all over Australia on radio programmes about that choice of name and even the clergy is getting into the debate.”

“Perhaps there is nothing else to bitch about on regular news, including TV news.”

Archie grinned and said, “Touché.”

“I must say, the name of the section is Hey Babe! Believe me, that name is not going to change.”

“We will be inviting women of all ages into the studio to debate that topic.”

“Oh, good for you guys. Meanwhile, Hey Babe! personal will be delivering most meaningful information to the huge body of younger women that we aim to serve fruitfully.”

“Fruitfully?”

“Stated in the sense of providing food for thought.”

“Oh well stated. Thank you for this interview and we intend to have you back in a couple of months at your convenience to provide an update, Cocoa um…”

“Just Cocoa will suffice. Thanks for the opportunity to chat, Archie.”


The interview on the other channel was more aggressive.

“Good evening everyone, this is Liz Chambers chatting to our young lady of the hour, Cocoa, roving editor of a new stuff-in section of Sydney’s Jupiter morning newspaper, as yet another innovation is tried.”

“What’s your real name Cocoa?”

“At birth I was named Cocoa Susan Collins, and remain Cocoa Susan Collins although my user name is just Cocoa. I grew up in Melbourne and as we have a Collins Street and a Little Collins Street in the heart of the CBD, I had them to remind me of my surname. And so, before coming to Sydney to pitch for the job to lead the editorial team of Hey Babe! I ditched it.”

“Was that ego-driven?”

“Possibly, but I had no such thought.”

“Then it was ego-driven?”

“If that’s your belief, keep it. Have you read Hey Babe! yet?”

“Oh, I glanced at it.”

“And?”

“Look Cocoa Collins, I’m conducting this interview.”

“Didn’t you introduce this interview as a chat?”

“Ah, I skimmed the section here and there.”

“And that’s understandable Liz, you are a power-house busy, busy person. But with your feet up on the couch later this evening, with a brandy something to relax you, what do you plan to read?”

“I… I…”

“Well I hope you enjoy Hey Babe! Now weren’t you intending to ask me how is it that I’m not the oldest person on my editorial team?”

“Yes, definitely. In fact, you are the fourth youngest.”

“Yes, our youngest are 18, 20 and 22. I’m 26 and will continue to age, but where is this ridiculous rule that says age equates proportionately with wisdom, courage, experience and maturity? I believe my talents relate more to my genes than anything else. Gradually, I’ve gained the knack of pushing the right buttons and when I engaged in interviews about this new position of mine, I appeared to really have found my groove.”

“People say are you too young for the role.”

“People will say anything, I suggest that question should be asked specifically to our target readership age groups 18-23 and, distinctly, 24-30.”

“I’ll concede that one Cocoa. What do you hope to get out of your role as being editor at large of Hey Babe!? that initially was to launch under a more pedestrian name of The Young Ones?”

“I hope to get my due remuneration regularly, of course. But on a higher plane, we intend to inform young people more intensely than newspaper readers of their age groups have ever been targeted before to hopefully assist in their progress in life. This will have beneficial spin-offs for the community at large. I mean, have you ever heard of anyone being too well educated? The flow of information from us will spin into various areas of life-style and, of course, the uptake of such information will be in their own hands.”

“Do you think your newspaper’s project is too ambitious?”

“No, simply because resources at any one time only stretch so far. The system therefore become self-regulating in some respect and we will be aiming for quality, rather than quality. Management of Jupiter Newspapers are hoping to profit from this venture – of course that is to be expected – but instead of the outflow of information/education being provided and controlled by institutions, such as Government-funded education, parents or private study groups, it will be created and compiled by a small band of similar-aged newspaper people who will have the usual level of editorial freedom that news and magazine sections of newspapers enjoy and prosper under.”

“Most of that sounds like rehearsed newspaper moguls’ propaganda.”

“Believe what you wish Liz. Until now you have been surprisingly tolerant with me. Let’s finished this interview right now, before you inadvertently or otherwise malign our mission. Good night, everyone.”

“Everyone, that was Cocoa Collins, editor at large of Jupiter Newspaper’s in insert Hey Babe! that made its debut in Sydney this morning.”

Cocoa was escorted from the studio recording the interview and Liz made her angry exit through a side door.

Kelly and Cocoa went by cab to a bar near their apartment.

“I wondered whether you over-reacted to Liz at the end?” Kelly said diplomatically.

“Perhaps, but my feeling was that bitch was lining me up to hit me with a wallop of some sort. My alarm bells were ringing.”

“Omigod, my thinking didn’t extend that far. You may have been masterly clever.”

“Well, let’s see if that section is contained in this evening’s broadcast.”

They watched the recordings on both main channels played at slightly at different times during the 6.00 pm News and very little was changed in either interview. The abrupt way one of the interviews terminated was totally unchanged from the live presentation.

At the newspaper’s 2.00 pm news conference when the interviews were played, most of the assembly agreed that Cocoa was prudent to have terminated the interview.

“I’ve followed that bitch Chambers for years,” said the news editor, Elaine Smith. “She loves letting blood on the floor, and not her blood. I read the disappointment in her eyes when she had the interview cut from under her.”

The chairman Bert Squires said, “Take a look at this. I received it just as I was walking off to come here.”

He placed a memory stick into the projector and a huge image of Cocoa, the crazy looking picture of her but without the near-riot background filled across the screen. Under it was the wording:

Read Cocoa & Team
Jupiter Newspaper
Tuesdays to Saturdays

“Thirty of these are going up today on prominent sign-boards in the city. This one is plastered 4-times larger than most sign-boards over the front of this building. Thank god Cocoa fought and got a total of eight surplus words removed from the message.”

There was cheerful applause for the employee of the moment.

* * *

In the inaugural issue, Cocoa’s name did not appear as any of the by-lines, appearing to indicate the editor at large as a writer was AWOL.

But in Wednesday’s issue, her by-line appeared under the front-page story of the tabloid-size Hey Babe!

It triggered a huge reaction ranging in quotations if various new media ranging from ‘At last it’s been Said Publicly’ to ‘Cocoa, Burn in Hell.’

The article read, in part:

Don’t be Pressured

By Cocoa

Babes, don’t be pressured by your parents or the church or an overly-eager lad when it comes to having sex.

Providing you are of minimum age of consent (in Australia it’s 16 or 17, check it out) make it your decision.

How old was I, you might wonder?

Eighteen, and that’s the truth. I waited till I really thought in my mind I was ready and then I gushed. Again, that’s the truth.

During your creep towards adulthood, you’ll have many important decisions to make, and when to have sex is just one of them.

I reckon if your parents wish to become involved, then that’s okay. It’s over to them. Even so, they must understand it’s your final decision. And then some.

The same applies to your best friends, any counsellors you have, church officials and dirty old men if you are unfortunate enough to be close to any of them.

And always… always… sex occurs only with a condom being used. If it hasn’t quite sunk in why use a condom, get an over-size one and pull it over your head with someone standing nearby to help pull it off to stop you suffocating

If nothing gets in when having sex with a condom, then you don’t get pregnant and you are highly protected against picking up sexual diseases but be extra careful about that one.

I had girlfriends who also thought like me and that the age of eighteen for dipping into penetrative sex seemed about right. And that includes having sex with other females. If you don’t know much about that, don’t be in a hurry to find out. The thought makes some people feel like vomiting.

A good way of looking at it is to think about skiing. The first day you strap on a pair of skis, it’s most unlikely you’ll go Downhill at even 10 mph or even attempt it at all. Never mind if your older sister goes Downhill at 75 mph-plus. You’re a learner.

(And so, it continued)


Nowhere in the article had Cocoa advocated breaking any law, or attempting to push a wedge between a teen and her parents. Her story had been cleared as suitable for publication by a sexologist, female doctor and a chief training officer for social worker specialising in young persons.

Even so, the crap still hit the fan from various individuals and a few groups with barrows to push. And that was expected. But as Cocoa said, “What are you if you don’t publish something legitimate simply because someone might not like it?”

Cocoa was called before a complaints’ procedure meeting, chaired by Bert Squires.

“This is not a serious matter Cocoa but a Mrs O’Brien of Templeton Grove has lodged an official complaint about your sex article stating it is contrary to the Lord’s Teachings. Because you are settling in, I decided we should skip the preliminaries and have a full hearing to establish that the matter has been solved satisfactorily. Before we begin, have you anything to say?”

“Yes, sir. Have I contravened any article in the rules of journalism or publishing?”

“I don’t believe so.”

“Am I to be charged with any offence?”

“No.”

“Then until I am charged publicly with any offence, enough of this charade. I’m off to work.”

“Miss Collins, I demand that…”

By then Cocoa was almost through the door.

Fifteen minutes later, the furious executive editor arrived in her office and closed the door.

“Cocoa…”

“Mr Squires, I will not be diverted from my important work to undergo undue pressure but I suppose security will not remove you from my office.”

Bert spluttered and turned even redder in the face.

She said calmly, “Bert, although I’m not a qualified journalist, I have done my best to adhere to the rules and traditions and I am simply placing a stake in the sand. I will not respond to unwarranted pressure. If people, including any in my own newspaper management, wish to make me submit unreasonably, their only option is to apply to the court for a judicial review.”

Bert sighed.

“Fuck, you remind me what I was like as an eager young beaver when I started at the age of 16 on my first newspaper, filling paste pots. I wanted to become a hot-shot reporter and then, as I aged, I became the editor and submitted to the occasional imposed muzzle. Oh, how such dreams of being as crusader in journalism fade or are quashed over time.”

“Is that so? I’ve read some of your prize-winning investigative series and seen the trophies in your office. But no weeping. Sorry I don’t have whisky as I only drink champagne or champagne cocktails. You may wish to go.”

“Okay, I’m off. I don’t think your end career will be in newspapers but you’ll certainly be a crusader of sorts, Cocoa. I’ll deal with incoming complaints about Hey Babe! as best I can without your involvement.”

“Thanks, Bert. Your wife called me to congratulate us on our first issue.”

“But Trish doesn’t take any interest in my newspaper?”

“You overlooked a small thing, Bert. She’s taking an interest in me.”


Cocoa entered her office next day at 12.30, her usual start time, and yelled, “Kelly, come quickly.”