Page 209 - Bridget Jones's Diary - by Helen FIELDING

was I coming home on the Friday night or the Saturday?

Considerably less annoyingly, there was a letter from Richard Finch, the

editor of Good Afternoon! offering me a job, I think. This is all it said: OK,
my darling. You're on.

Tuesday 29 August

9st2,, alcohol units 0 (v.g.), cigarettes 3 (g.), calories 1456 (pre-new-job healthy

eating).

10:30 a.m. Office. Just called Richard Finch's assistant Patchouli and it is a job
offer but must start in a week. I don't know anything about television but sod it,
I'm stuck in a dead end here, and it is just too humiliating working with Daniel
now. I had better go and tell him.

11:15 a.m. I can't believe this. Daniel stared at me, ashen-faced. 'You can't do
this,' he said. 'Have you any idea how difficult the last few weeks have been for
me?' Then Perpetua burst in - she must have been eavesdropping outside the
door.

'Daniel,' she exploded. 'You selfish, self-indulgent, manipulative, emotional
blackmailer. It was you - for God's sake - who chucked her. So you can just
bloody well put up with it.'