Page 205 - Bridget Jones's Diary - by Helen FIELDING

10 p.m. Just called Perpetua and told her I'm not coming. It's all stupid. I can't
afford it.

Saturday 26 August

8:30 a.m. Right, I'm going to have a quiet, healthy time at home. Lovely. I might
finish The Famished Road.

9 a.m. Oh God, I'm so depressed. Everybody's gone to Edinburgh except me.

9:15 a.m. I wonder if Perpetua's left yet?

Midnight. Edinburgh. Oh God. I must go to see something tomorrow. Perpetua
thinks I'm mad. She spent the entire train journey with the portable phone
pressed to her ear, bellowing at the rest of us. 'Arthur Smith's Hamlet is
completely booked up so we could go to the Coen brothers instead at five but

that means we'll be too late for Richard Herring. So shall we not go to Jenny
Eclair - Chuh! I frankly don't know why she still bothers - and do Lanark, then
try to get into Harry Hill or Bondages and Julian Clary? Hang on. I'll try the
Gilded Balloon. No, Harry Hill's booked up, so shall we skip the Coen brothers?'