Page 169 - Bridget Jones's Diary - by Helen FIELDING

Sunday 2 July

8st 10 (continuing good work), alcohol units 0, cigarettes 0, calories 995,
Instants 0: perfect.

7.45 a.m. Mum just rang. 'Oh, hello, darling, guess what?'

'I'll just take the phone in the other room. Hang on,' I said, glancing over

nervously at Daniel, unplugging the phone, creeping next door and plugging it in
again only to find my mother had not noticed my absence for the last two and a
half minutes and was still talking.

' . . . So what do you think, darling?'

'Um, I don't know. I was bringing the phone into the other room like I said,' I
said.

'Ah. So you didn't hear anything?'

'No.' There was a slight pause.

'Oh, hello, darling, guess what?' Sometimes I think my mother is part of the
modern world and sometimes she seems a million miles away. Like when she
leaves messages on my answerphone which just say, very loudly and clearly,
'Bridget Jones's mother.'

Hello? Oh, hello, darling, guess what?' she said, again.

'What?' I said resignedly.