Page 199 - Bridget Jones's Diary - by Helen FIELDING

'Gav is ten. Anyway he only liked me because he thought I was crying about a

toilet roll.'

'Well you were, in a way,' said Tom. 'Bloody git, Daniel. If that man turns out
to be singlehandedly responsible for all the fighting in Bosnia, I wouldn't be in
the least surprised.'

Sunday 13 August

V. bad night. On top of everything else, tried to read myself to sleep with new
issue of Tatler, only to find Mark Bloody Darcy's face smoldering out from
feature on London's fifty most eligible bachelors going on about how rich and
marvelous he was. Ugh. Made me even more depressed in way cannot quite
fathom. Anyway. Am going to stop feeling sorry for myself and spend morning

learning newspapers by heart.

Noon. Rebecca just rang, asking if I was 'all right.' Thinking she meant all right
about Daniel, I said, 'Chuh, well it's very depressing.'

'Oh, poor you. Yes, I saw Peter last night . . . (Where? What? Why wasn't I
invited?) ' . . . and he was telling everyone how upset you were about the
wedding. As he said, it is difficult, single women do tend to get desperate as they
get older . . . '

By lunchtime could no longer go on with Sunday, trying to pretend everything
was OK. Rang up Jude and told her about Waspy, Rebecca, job interview, Mum,