Page 170 - Bridget Jones's Diary - by Helen FIELDING

'Una and Geoffrey are having a Tarts and Vicars party in the garden on the

twenty-ninth of July. Don't you thin that's fun! Tarts and Vicars! Imagine!'

I tried hard not to, fighting off a vision of Una Alconbury in thigh boots,
fishnet nights and a peephole bra. For sixty-year-olds to organize such an event
seemed unnatural and wrong.

'Anyway, we thought it would be super if you and' - coy, loaded pause -

'Daniel, could come. We're all dying to meet him.'

My heart sank at the thought of my relationship with Daniel being dissected in
dose and intimate detail amongst the Lifeboat luncheons of Northamptonshire.

'I don't think it's really Daniel's - ' Just as I said that the chair I had, for some
reason, been balancing on with my knees while I leaned over the table fell over
with a crash.

When I retrieved the phone my mother was still talking.

'Yes, super. Mark Darcy's going to be there, apparently, with someone, so . . . '

'What's going on?' Daniel was standing stark naked in the doorway. 'Who are

you talking to?'

'My mother,' I said, desperately, out of the corner of my mouth.

'Give it to me,' he said, taking the phone. I like it when he is authoritative
without being cross like this.

'Mrs Jones,' he said, in his most charming voice. It's Daniel here.'

I could practically hear her going all fluttery.

'This is very bright and early on a Sunday morning for a phone call. Yes, it is

an absolutely beautiful day. What can we do for you?'