Page 247 - Bridget Jones's Diary - by Helen FIELDING

'Where in the name of arse were you last night?' I said.

'I might ask the same question of you,' he said, icily.

At that moment the camera assistant burst into the shop. 'Bridget!' he yelled.
'We've missed the interview. Elena Rossini's come out and gone. Did you get my
Minstrels?'

Speechless, I grabbed the edge of the sweet counter for support. 'Missed it?' I
said as soon as I could steady my breathing. 'Missed it? Oh God. This was my
last chance after the fireman's pole and I was buying sweets. I'll be sacked. Did
the others get interviews?'

'Actually, nobody got any interviews with her,' said Mark Darcy.

'Didn't they?' I said, looking up at him desperately. 'But how do you know?'

'Because I was defending her, and I told her not to give any,' he said casually.

'Look, she's out there in my car.'

As I looked, Elena Rossini put her head out of the car window and shouted in
a foreign accent, 'Mark, sorry. You bring me Dairy Box, please, instead of

Quality Street?' Just then our camera car drew up.

'Derek!' yelled the cameraman out of the window. 'Get us a Twix and a Lion
Bar, will you?'

'So where were you last night?' asked Mark Darcy.

'Waiting for bloody you,' I said between clenched teeth.

'What, at five past eight? When I rang on your doorbell twelve times?'

'Yes, I was . . . ' I said, feeling the first twinges of realization, 'drying my hair.'