You sleep, said Julio dangerously, with my woman.’
1 a.m. Totally alone. Entire year has been failure. 5 a.m. Oh, never bloody mind. Maybe Christmas itself will not be awful. Maybe Mum and Dad will emerge radiantly shag-drunk in the morning, holding hands shyly and saying, Children, weve got something to tell you, and I could be a bridesmaid at the reaffirming of vows ceremony.
Well, sorry to use a cliché, but I discovered his Achilles heel.’
Your top — Mummy — is inside out, said Dad. I stared at the hideous scene, feeling as though my whole world was collapsing around my ears.
Oh my God.
A hunch. It kind of goes with the job. God, hes cool. But it was so kind of you, taking time off work and everything. Why did you bother doing all this?’
Dont you mean but pardon?’
I havent been invited, I mumbled. There is nothing worse than having to admit to your mum that you are not very popular.
Midnight. Humph. None of them turned up. Vile Richard changed his mind and came back to Jude, as did Jerome, and Simons girlfriend. It was just over-emotional Spirit-of-Christmas Past making everyone wobbly about ex-partners. And Daniel! He rang up at 10 oclock. Listen, Bridge.
You know I always watch the match on Saturday nights? Shall I come round tomorrow before the football? Exciting? Wild? Hilarious? Huh.
Or maybe they are all at a big party except me. Anyway. Lots to do.
Latest idea was whisky but combined with other small gift so as not to seem cheapskate or anonymous-possibly combined with tangerines and chocolate coins, depending on whether Jude decided Christmas Stocking conceit over-cute to point of nausea or terrifyingly smart in its Post-Modernity.
This happens every year with the gravy. Mercifully there was a distraction: a great crash and scream as a figure burst through the French windows. Julio.
9 a.m. Oh God, feel awful: horrible sick acidic hangover and today is office disco lunch. Cannot go on. Am going to burst with pressure of unperformed Christmas tasks, like revision for finals.
Well, thats different, darling. Anyway, Must run. Byeee!
6:05 p.m. Wonder where everybody is? I suppose they are all with their boyfriends or have gone home to their families. Anyway, chance to get things done . . . or they have families of own.
Im not sure whether Julios violent. The police are outside. If we can get your mum to come downstairs and leave him up there they can go in and get him. OK. Leave it to me, I said, and walked to the bottom of the stairs.
How did you know?’
Mrs. Jones, said Mark firmly. I am taking Bridget away to celebrate what is left of the Baby Jesus birthday. I took a big breath and grasped Mark Darcys proffered hand. Merry Christmas, everyone, I said with a gracious smile. I expect well see you all at the Turkey Curry Buffet. This is what happened next: Mark Darcy took me to Hintlesham Hall for champagne and late Christmas lunch, which was v.g. Particularly enjoyed freedom to pour gravy onto Christmas turkey for first time in life without having to take sides about it. Christmas without Mum and Una was a strange and wonderful thing.
Dont patronize me, Pam, said Una, smiling dangerously. They circled each other like fighters.
Thursday 14 December 9st 3, alcohol units 2 (bad, as did not drink any. units yesterday-must make up extra tomorrow to avoid heart attack), cigarettes 14 (bad? or maybe good? Yes. a sensible level of nicotine units is probably good for you as long as do not binge-smoke), calories 1500 (excellent), lottery tickets 4 (bad but would have been good of Richard Branson had won non-profit-making lottery bid), cards sent 0, presents purchased 0, 1471 calls 5 (excellent).
Thursday 21 December 9st 3 (actually, in funny sort of way there is no reason why should not actually lose weight over Christmas since am so full that — certainly any time after Christmas dinner it is perfectly acceptable to refuse all food on grounds of being too full. In fact it is probably the one time of year when it is OK not to eat).
Why doesnt anyone love me?’
Mark, I whispered as I walked past him with the gravy. What are you saying? There is no normal.’
Have failed to do cards or Christmas shopping apart from doomed panic-buy yesterday lunchtime as realized was going to see girls for last time before Christmas at Magda and Jeremys last night. Dread the exchange of presents with fiends as, unlike with the family, there is no way of knowing who is and isnt going to give and whether gifts should be tokens of affection or proper presents, so all becomes like hideous exchange of sealed bids. Two years ago I bought Magda lovely Dinny Hall earrings, rendering her embarrassed and miserable because she hadnt bought me anything. Last year, therefore, I didnt get her anything and she bought me an expensive bottle of Coco Chanel. This year I bought her a big bottle of Saffron Oil with Champagne and a distressed wire soapdish, and she went into a complete grump muttering obvious lies about not having done her Christmas shopping yet. Last year Sharon gave me bubble bath shaped like Santa, so last night I just gave her Body Shop Algae and Polyp Oil shower gel at which point she presented me with a handbag. I had wrapped up a spare bottle of posh olive oil as a generalized emergency gift which fel九_九_藏_书_网l out of my coat and broke on Magdas Conran Shop rug. Ugh. Would that Christmas could just be, without presents. It is just so stupid, everyone exhausting themselves, miserably hemorrhaging money on pointless items nobody wants: no longer tokens of love but angst-ridden solutions to problems. (Hmm. Though must admit, pretty bloody pleased to have new handbag.) What is the point of entire nation rushing round for six
Julio, you naughty person, she cooed. Oh God. She was still in love with him. You sleep, said Julio, with him. He spat on the Chinese carpet and bounded upstairs, pursued by Mum, who trilled back at us, Could you carve, Daddy, please, and get everyone sitting down? Nobody moved. OK, everybody, said Dad, in a tense, serious, manly sort of voice. There is a dangerous criminal upstairs using Pam as a hostage. Oh, she didnt seem to mind, if you ask me, piped up Granny in a rare and most untimely moment of clarity. Oh look, theres a biscuit in the dahlias. I looked out of the window and nearly jumped out of my skin. There was Mark Darcy slipping, lithe as a whippersnapper, across the lawn and in through the French windows. He was sweating, dirty, his hair was unkempt, his shirt unbuttoned. Ding-dong! Everyone keep completely still and quiet, as if everything is normal, he said softly. We were all so stunned, and he so thrillingly authoritative, that we started doing as he said as if hypnotized zombies.
Well, he is, I mean, he got through his what-do-you-mer-call-it clause that nobody thought he would, didnt he? Ah, but then, you see, youve got to watch it because we could easily end up with a nutcase like what-do-you-mer-call-him that used to be a communist. Do you know? The problem I find with smoked salmon is that it repeats on me, especially when Ive had a lot of chocolate brazils. Oh, hello, darling, said Mum, noticing me. Now, what are you going to put on for Christmas Day? This, I muttered sulkily. Oh, dont be silly, Bridget, you cant wear that on Christmas Day. Now, are you going to come into the lounge and say hello to Auntie Una and Uncle Geoffrey before you change? she said in the special bright, breathy isnt-everything-super? voice that means, Do what I say or Ill Magimix your face. So, come on, then, Bridget! Hows yer love life! quipped Geoffrey, giving me one of his special hugs, then going all pink and adjusting his slacks. Fine. So you still havent got a chap. Durr! What are we going to do with you! Is that a chocolate biscuit? said Granny, looking straight at me. Stand up straight, darling, hissed Mum.
Then I felt a strong hand on my arm. Come on, said Mark Darcy.
6:45 p.m. Oh God, Im so lonely. Even Jude has forgotten about me. She has been ringing all week panicking about what to buy Vile Richard. Mustnt be too expensive: suggests getting too serious or an attempt to emasculate him (vg idea if ask self); nor anything to wear as taste-gaffe minefield and might remind Vile Richard of last girlfriend Vile Jilly (whom he does not want to get back with but pretends still to love in order to avoid having to be in love with Jude — creep).
Tuesday 26 December Have finally realized the secret of happiness with men, and it is with deep regret, rage and an overwhelming sense of defeat that I have to put it in the words of an adulteress, criminals accomplice and G-list celebrity: Dont say what, say pardon, darling, and do as your mother tells you.’
12:30 p.m. Gift exchange was nightmare. Always overcompensate for bad presents, yelping with delight, which means I get more and more horrid gifts each year. Thus Becca — who, when I worked in publishing, gave me a worsening series of book-shaped clothes-brushes, shoehorns and hair ornaments — this year gave me a clapperboard fridge magnet. Una, for whom no household task must remain ungadgeted, gave me a series of mini-spanners to fit different jar or bottle lids in the kitchen. While my mum, who gives me presents to try and make my life more like hers, gave me a slo-cooker for one person: All you have to do is brown the meat before you go to work and stick a bit of veg in. (Has she any idea how hard it is some mornings to make a glass of water without vomiting?)
I havent been.’
Well, maybe you havent worked there long enough. Anyway — ‘
Friday 22 December Now it is nearly Christmas, find self feeling sentimental about Daniel. Cannot believe have not had Christmas card from him (though come to think of it have not managed to send any cards yet myself). Seems weird to have been so close during the year and now be completely out of touch.
Oh, dont be silly, darling. You cant sit in the flat on your own all weekend when its Christmas. What are you going to eat? Grrr. I hate this. Its as if, just because youre single, you dont have a home or any friends or responsibilities and the only possible reason you might have.for not being at everyone elses beck and call for the entire Christmas period and happy to sleep bent at odd angles in sleeping bags on teenagers bedroom floors, peel sprouts all day for fifty, and talk nicely to perverts with the word Uncle before their name while they stare freely at your breasts is complete selfishness. My brother, on the other hand, can come and go as he likes with everyones r九*九*藏*书*网espect and blessing just because he happens to be able to stomach living with a vegan Tai Chi enthusiast. Frankly, I would rather set fire to my flat all on my own than sit in it with Becca. Cannot believe my mother is not more grateful to Mark Darcy for sorting everything out for her.
Correct lottery numbers 42 (v.g.)
Rebeccas? Sunday? What Rebeccas? What?’
2 p.m. Bumped into Rebecca in Graham and Greene buying a scarf for ￡169. (What is going on with scarves? One minute they were stocking filler-type items which cost ￡9.99 next minute they have to be fancy velvet and cost as much as a television. Next year it will probably happen to socks or pants and we will feel left out if we are not wearing ￡145 English Eccentrics knickers in textured black velvet.) Hi, I said excitedly, thinking at last the party nightmare would be over and she too would say, See you on Sunday. Oh, hello, she said coldly, not meeting my eye. Cant stop. Im in a real rush. As she left the shop they were playing Chestnuts roasting on an open fire and I stared hard at a ￡185 Phillipe Starck colander, blinking back tears. I hate Christmas. Everything is designed for families, romance, warmth, emotion and presents, and if you have no boyfriend, no money, your mother is going out with a missing Portuguese criminal and your friends dont want to be your friend anymore, it makes you want to emigrate to a vicious Muslim regime, where at least all the women are treated like social outcasts. Anyway, I dont care. I am going to quietly read a book all weekend and listen to classical music. Maybe will read The Famished Road.
Oh yes, I think whats-his-name is very good.’
I didnt want to talk to you till Id finished the job. And I didnt think you liked me much.’
Mum! I yelled. I cant find any savory doilies. Everyone held their breath. There was no response. Try again, whispered Mark, looking at me admiringly. Get Una to take the gravy back into the kitchen, I hissed. He did what I said, then gave me a thumbs-up. I gave him a thumbs-up back and cleared my throat. Mum? I shouted up the stairs again. Do you know where the sieve is? Unas a bit worried about the gravy. Ten seconds later there was a pounding down the stairs and Mum burst in, looking flushed. The savory doilies are in the savory doily holder on the wall, you silly willy. Now. Whats Una done with this gravy. Durr! Were going to have to use the Magimix! Even as she spoke there were footsteps running up the stairs and a scuffle broke out above us. Julio! shrieked Mum and started to run for the door. The detective I recognized from the police station was standing in the living room doorway. All right, everyone, keep calm. Its all under control, he said. Mum let out a scream as Julio, handcuffed to a young policeman, appeared in the hallway and was bundled out of the front door behind the detective. I watched her as she collected herself and looked round the room, appraising the situation.
9 a.m. Brief moment of party oasis when an invitation arrived in the post but turned out to be party mirage: invitation to a sale of designer eyewear. 11:30 a.m. Called Tom in paranoid desperation to see if he wanted to go out tonight.
Mum, as I think weve discussed, Im not coming home on Friday, Im coming home on Christmas Eve. Remember all those conversations weve had on the subject? That first one . . .
But what. . . ?’
Everyone froze, and Una let out a scream. He was unshaven and clutching a bottle of sherry. He stumbled over to Dad and drew himself up to his full height. You sleep with my woman.’
Tuesday 5 December 9st 2 (right, am really going to start dieting today), alcohol units 4 (start of festive season), cigarettes 10, calories 3245 (better), 1471 calls 6 (steady progress). Repeatedly distracted by Stocking Filla catalogs tumbling out of the newspapers. Particularly keen on the shield-shaped burnished metal funfur-lined Spectacles Holder stand: All too often spectacles are put down flat on a table, inviting an accident. Couldnt agree more. The sleekly designed Black Cat Key-Chain Light does indeed have a simple flip-down mechanism, as it casts a powerful red light on the keyhole of any cat lover. Bonsai Kits! Hurrah. Practice the ancient art of Bonsai with this tub of preplanted Persian Pink Silk Tree shoots. Nice, very nice. Cannot help but feel sad about the brutal trampling on the pink silk shoots of romance burgeoning between me and Mark Darcy by Marco Pierre White and my mother, but trying to be philosophical about it. Maybe Mark Darcy is too perfect, clean and finished off at the edges for me, with his capability, intelligence, lack of smoking, freedom from alcoholism, and his chauffeur-driven cars. Maybe it has been decreed that I should be with someone wilder, earthier and more of a flirt. Like Marco Pierre White, for example, or, just to pick a name totally at random, Daniel. Hmmm. Anyway. Must just get on with life and not feel sorry for self.
7 p.m. Emergency: Jude on phone in tears. Is coming round. Vile Richard has gone back to Vile July. Jude blames gift. Thank God stayed home. Am clearly Emissary of Baby Jesus here to help those persecuted at Christmas by Herod-Wannabees, e.g. Vile Richard. Jude will be here at 7:30. 7:15 p.m. Damn. Missed99lib.net start of Blind Date as Tom rang and is coming round. Jerome, having taken him back, has chucked him again and gone back with former boyfriend who is member of chorus in Cats. 7:17 p.m. Simon is coming round. His girlfriend has gone back to her husband. Thank God stayed at home to receive chucked friends in manner of Queen of Hearts or Soup Kitchen. But thats just the kind of person I am: liking to love others. 8 p.m. Hurrah! A magic-of-Christmas miracle. Daniel just called Jonesh he slurred. I love you, Jonesh. I made tebble mishtake. Stupid Suki made of plastic. Breast point north at all times. I love you, Jonesh. I comin round to check how your skirts is. Daniel. Gorgeous, messy, sexy, exciting, hilarious Daniel.
Just called Shazzer, who said it has not been decreed that I must go out with Marco Pierre White and certainly not with Daniel. The only thing a woman needs in this day and age is herself.
Sunday 24 December 9st 4., alcohol units I measly glass of sherry, cigarettes 2 but no fun as out of window, calories 1 million, probably, number of warm festive thoughts 0.
Would that the Red Cross or Germans would come and find me. Aaargh. Its 10 am. Have not done Christmas shopping. Have not sent Christmas cards. Got to go to work. Right, am never, never going to drink again for the rest of life. Aargh — field telephone. Humph. It was Mum but might as well have been Goebbels trying to rush me into invading Poland. Darling, I was just ringing to check what time youre arriving on Friday night. Mum, with dazzling bravado, has planned schmaltzy family Christmas, with her and Dad pretending the whole of last year never happened for the sake of the children (i.e., me and Jamie, who is thirty-seven).
I shuddered with humiliation. I work for Vibrant TV, for Gods sake.
Incorrect lottery numbers 387 Total Instants purchased 98 Total Instants winnings ￡110 Total Instants profit ￡12 (Yessss! Yessss! Have beaten system while supporting worthwhile causes in manner of benefactor) 1471 calls (quite a lot) Valentines 1 (v.g.) Christmas cards 33 (v.g.) Hangover-free days 114 (v.g.) Boyfriends 2 (but one only for six days so far) Nice boyfriends 1 Number of New Years Resolutions kept 1 (v.g.)An excellent years progress.
January - December A Summary
8:30 p.m. Blind Date was v.g. Just going for another bottle of wine.
Bridget, he said. Isnt it rather obvious?’
How come he came back to England?’
Saturday 23 December 9st 4, alcohol units 12, cigarettes 38, calories 2976, friends and loved ones who care about self this festive tide 0.
Parties, parties, parties! Plus Matt from the office just rang asking if Im going to the Christmas lunch on Tuesday. He cant fancy me — Im old enough to be his great-aunt-but then why did he ring me in the evening? And why did he ask me what I was wearing? Must not get over-excited and allow party casbah and phone call from feller-me-lad to go to self=s head. Should remember old saying once bitten twice shy as regards dipping pen in office ink. Also must remember what happened last time snogged whippersnapper: ghastly Ooh, youre all squashy humiliation with Gav. Hmmm. Sexually tantalizing Christmas lunch followed bizarrely by disco dancing in the afternoon (such being editors idea of a good time) involves severe outfit choice complexity. Best ring Jude, I think.Tuesday 19 December 9st 7 (but still nearly one week to lose 7 lbs. before Christmas), alcohol units 9 (poor), cigarettes 30, calories 4240, lottery tickets 1 (excellent), cards sent 0, cards received 11, but include 2 from paper boy, 1 from dustman, 1 from Peugeot garage and 1 from hotel spent night in for work four years ago. Am unpopular, or maybe everyone sending cards later this year.
Monday 25 December 9st 5. (oh God, have turned into Santa Claus, Christmas pudding or similar), alcohol units 2 (total triumph),.cigarettes 3 (ditto), calories 2657 (almost entirely gravy), totally insane Christmas gifts 12, number of Christmas gifts with any point to them whatsoever 0, philosophical reflections on the meaning of the Virgin Birth 0, number of years since self was Virgin, hmmm. Staggered downstairs hoping hair did not smell of fags to find Mum and Una exchanging political views while putting crosses in the end of sprouts.
Where are sheets, though? Wish had some food.
Well, thank goodness I managed to calm Julio down, she said gaily after a pause. What a to do! Are you all right, Daddy?’
Then he took the champagne glass out of my hand, kissed me, and said, Right, Bridget Jones, Im going to give you pardon for, picked me up in his arms, carried me off into the bedroom (which had a four-poster bed!) and did all manner of things which mean whenever I see a diamond-patterned V-neck sweater in future, I am going to spontaneously combust with shame.
For ten days now have been living in state of permanent hangover and foraging sub-existence without proper meals or hot food. Christmas is like war. Going down to Oxford Street is hanging over me like going over the top.
Babies. Tiny fluffy children in pajamas with pink cheeks looking at the Christmas tree excitedly.
Alcohol units 3836 (poor)
Well, you know. You stood me up because you were drying your hair? And the first time I met you I was wearing that 九-九-藏-书-网stupid sweater and bumblebee socks from my aunt and behaved like a complete clod. I thought you thought I was the most frightful stiff.’
Midnight. V. confused about what is and is not reality. There is a pillowcase at the bottom of my bed which Mum put there at bedtime, cooing, Lets see if Santa comes, which is now full of presents. Mum and Dad, who are separated and planning to divorce, are sleeping in the same bed.
When we got upstairs it turned out he had taken a suite. It was fantastic, v. posh and bloody good fun and we played with all the guest features and had more champagne and he told me all this stuff about how he loved me: the sort of stuff, to be honest, Daniel was always coming out with. Why didnt you ring me up before Christmas, then? I said suspiciously. I left you two messages.’
Well, I did, a bit, I said, But . . . ‘
V. sad. Maybe Daniel is unexpectedly Orthodox Jew. Maybe Mark Darcy will ring tomorrow to wish me Happy Christmas.
Dear God, please help me. I want go home. I want my own life again. I dont feel like an adult, I feel like a teenage boy who everyones annoyed with. So what are you going to do about babies, Bridget? said Una. Oh look, a penis, said Granny, holding up a giant tube of Smarties. Just going to change! I said, smiling smarmily at Mum, rushed up to the bedroom, opened the window and lit up a Silk Cut. Then I noticed Jamies head sticking out of window one floor below, also having fag. Two minutes later the bathroom window opened and an auburn-coiffed head stuck out and lit up. It was bloody Mum.
What?.
Oh look. It isnt a penis, its a biscuit, said Granny.
In sharp contrast, my brother and his girlfriend, who have been living together for four years, are sleeping in separate rooms. The reason for all this is unclear, except that it may be to avoid upsetting Granny who is a) insane and b) not here yet. The only thing that connects me to the real world is that once again I am humiliatingly spending Christmas Eve alone in my parents house in a single bed. Maybe Dad is at this moment attempting to mount Mum. Ugh, ugh. No, no. Why did brain think such thought?
Friday 8 December
6:15 p.m. Anyway. Only an hour till Blind Date.
Was unexpectedly easy to talk to Mark Darcy, especially with Festive Julio Police Siege Scene to dissect. It turns out Mark has spent quite lot of time in Portugal over the last month, in manner of heartwarming private detective. He told me he tracked Julio down to Funchal and found out quite a bit about where the funds were, but couldnt cajole, or threaten, Julio into returning anything. Think he might now, though, he said, grinning. Hes really v. sweet, Mark Darcy, as well as being rocky smart.
back in August — ‘
Ah, replied Dad. Merry Christmas, er . . . Can I get you a sherry — ah, got one already. Jolly good. Mince pie?’
Monday 4 December 9st 2 (hmm, must get weight off before Christmas gorging), alcohol units a modest 3, cigarettes a saintly 7, calories 3876 (oh dear), 1471 calls to see if Mark Darcy has called 6 (g.). Just went to supermarket and found self unaccountably thinking of Christmas trees, firesides, carols, mince pies, etc. Then I realized why. The air vents by the entrance which usually pump out baking bread smells were pumping out baking mince pies smells instead. Cannot believe cynicism of such behavior. Reminded of favorite poem by Wendy Cope which goes: At Christmas little children sing and merry bells jingle. The cold winter air makes our hands and faces tingle. And happy families go to church and cheerily they mingle, And the whole business is unbelievably dreadful if youre single. Still no word from Mark Darcy.
But, Mum, I interrupted, you dont work there at all.’
Oh, hes so Latin, hahaha, said Mum coquettishly while everyone else stared in horror. Every time Ive met Julio he has been clean and coiffed beyond all sense and carrying a gentlemans handbag. Now he was wild, drunk, unkempt and, frankly, just the type I fill for. No wonder Mum seemed more aroused than embarrassed.
Hurrah! 2 a.m. Why hasnt Mark Darcy rung me? Why? Why? Am going to be eaten by Alsatian despite all efforts to the contrary. Why me, Lord?
Instead of which he has become part of That Which Must Not Be Mentioned, i.e. the Great Time-Share Rip-Off, and she behaves as if he never existed. Cannot help but think he must have coughed up a bit to get everyone their money back. V. nice good person. Too good for me, evidently. Oh God. Must put sheets on bed. Disgusting to sleep on uncomfortable button-studded mattress.
I think this gravys going to need sieving, Pam, called Una, coming out of the kitchen holding a pan. Oh no. Not this. Please not this.
I dont think it will, dear, Mum said already spitting murderously through clenched teeth. Have you tried stirring it?’
Oh, hasnt . . . ? Shes just having a few . . . I think its just a sort of pre-Christmas dinner party.’
Im busy on Sunday, anyway, I lied. At last — a chance to get into those awkward corners with the duster. I had thought that Jude and I were equal friends of Rebecca so why should she invite Jude and not me? 9 p.m. Popped to 192 for refreshing bottle of wine with Sharon and she said, What are you wearing for Rebeccas party? Party? So it is a party party. Midnight. Anyway. Must九*九*藏*书*网 not get upset about it. This is just the sort of thing that is not important in life anymore. People should be allowed to invite who they want to their parties without others pettily getting upset.
6 p.m. So glad decided to be festive Home Alone Singleton like Princess Diana.
Bridget. This is Rebecca. I know you work in TV now. I know you have much more glamorous parties to go to every night, but I would have thought you could at least have the courtesy to reply to an invitation from a friend, even if you are too grand to deign to come to her party. Frantically called Rebecca but no reply or answerphone. Decided to go round and leave a note and bumped into Dan on the stairs, the Australian guy from downstairs who I snogged in April. Hi. Merry Christmas, he said leerily, standing too close. Did you get your mail? I looked at him blankly. Ive been putting it under your door so you dont have to get cold in your nightie in the mornings. I shot back upstairs, grabbed back the doormat and there, nestling underneath like a Christmas miracle, was a little pile of cards, letters and invitations all addressed to me. Me. Me. Me.
Saturday 9 December Christmas parties to look forward to 0. 7:45 a.m. Woken by Mum. Hello, darling. Just rang quickly because Una and Geothey were asking what you wanted for Christmas and I wondered about a Facial Sauna. How, after being totally disgraced and narrowly escaping several years in custody, can my mother just plop back into being exactly like she was before, flirting openly with policemen and torturing me. By the way, are you coming to . . . for a moment my heart leaped with the thought that she was going to say Turkey Curry Buffet and bring up, in a manner of speaking, Mark Darcy, but no . . . the Vibrant TV party on Tuesday? she continued brightly.
weeks in a bad mood preparing for utterly pointless Taste-of-Others exam which entire nation then fails and gets stuck with hideous unwanted merchandise as fallout? If gifts and cards were completely eradicated, then Christmas as pagan-style twinkly festival to distract from lengthy winter gloom would be lovely. But if government, religious bodies, parents, tradition, etc., insist on Christmas Gift Tax to ruin everything why not make it that everyone must go out and spend ￡500 on themselves then distribute the items among their relatives and friends to wrap up and give to them instead of this psychic-failure torment? 9:45 a.m. Just had Mum on the phone. Darling, Ive just rung to say Ive decided Im not doing presents this year. You and Jamie know there isnt a Santa now, and were all far too busy. We can just appreciate each others company. But we always get presents from Santa in sacks at the bottom of our beds. World seems bleak and gray. Wont seem like Christmas anymore. Oh God, better go to work — but will not have anything to drink at disco-lunch, just be friendly and professional to Matt, stay till about 3:30 p.m., then leave and do my Christmas cards. 2 a.m. Course is OK — everyone drunks office Christmas parties. Is a good fun. Must gust sleep — doen maur about clothesoff.Wed 20 December 5:30 a.m. Oh my God. Oh my God. Where am I?
Sorry, he chirped, Im taking Jerome to the PACT party at the Groucho Club. Oh God, I hate it when Tom is happy, confident and getting on well with Jerome, much preferring it when he is miserable, insecure and neurotic. As he himself never tires of saying, Its always so nice when things go badly for other people. Ill see you tomorrow, anyway, he gushed on, at Rebeccas. Tom has only ever met Rebecca twice, both times at my house, and Ive known her for nine years. Decided to go shopping and stop obsessing.
9st 5 (disaster), alcohol units 4 (g.), cigarettes 12 (excellent), Christmas presents purchased 0 (bad), cards sent 0, 1471 calls 7. 4 p.m. Humph. Jude just rang and just before we said good-bye she said, See you at Rebeccas on Sunday.’
I simply told him that she was spending Christmas with your dad, and, Im afraid, that theyd be sleeping in the same bed. I just had a feeling he was crazy enough, and stupid enough, to attempt to, er, undermine those plans.’
What? Dont say what, Bridget, say pardon, he said, and I giggled. I realized that, although your mother is the most impossible woman in the world, Julio loves her. He really loves her. Bloody Mum, I thought. How come she gets to be the irresistible sex goddess? Maybe I should go to Color Me Beautiful after all. So what did you do? I said, sitting on my hands to stop myself shouting What about me? me?
Cigarettes 5277 Calories 11,090,265 (repulsive) Fat units 3457 (approx.) (hideous idea in every way) Weight gained 5st 2lb Weight lost 5st 3lb (excellent)
Monday 11 December Returned from work to icy answerphone message.
Dont say what, Bridget, say pardon, hissed Mum.
Oh, darling, of course youve been invited. Everyones going.’
What? I said.
5:30 a.m. Why hasnt Rebecca invited me to her party? Why? Why? How many more parties are going on that everyone has been invited to except me? I bet everyone is at one now, laughing and sipping expensive champagne. No one likes me. Christmas is going to be a total party-desert, apart from a three-party pile-up on December 20th, when I am booked into an editing session all evening.