Page 225 - Bridget Jones's Diary - by Helen FIELDING

Miss Budget Jones's distress at not being able to accept the

kind invitation of Mr. Mark Darcy that she has topped herself

and will therefore, more certainly than ever, now, be unable to

accept Mr. Mark Darcy's kind . . .

Ooh: telephone.

It was Dad: 'Bridget, my dear, you are coming to the horror event next
Saturday, aren't you?'

'The Darcys' ruby wedding, you mean.'

'What else? It's been the only thing that has distracted your mother from the
question of who's getting the mahogany ornament cabinet and nesting coffee

tables since she got the Lisa Leeson interview at the beginning of August.'

'I was kind of hoping to get out of it.'

The line went quiet at the other end.

'Dad?'

There was a muffled sob. Dad was crying. I think Dad is having a nervous
breakdown. Mind you, if I'd been married to Mum for thirty-nine years I'd have

had a nervous breakdown, even without her running off with a Portuguese tour
operator.

'What's wrong, Dad?'