Page 303 - Bridget Jones's Diary - by Helen FIELDING

Geoffrey before you change?' she said in the special bright, breathy isn't-

everything-super? voice that means, 'Do what I say or I'll Magimix your face.'

'So, come on, then, Bridget! How's yer love life!' quipped Geoffrey, giving me
one of his special hugs, then going all pink and adjusting his slacks.

'Fine.'

'So you still haven't got a chap. Durr! What are we going to do with you!'

'Is that a chocolate biscuit?' said Granny, looking straight at me.

'Stand up straight, darling,' hissed Mum.

Dear God, please help me. I want go home. I want my own life again. I don't
feel like an adult, I feel like a teenage boy who everyone's annoyed with.

'So what are you going to do about babies, Bridget?' said Una.

'Oh look, a penis,' said Granny, holding up a giant tube of Smarties.

'Just going to change!' I said, smiling smarmily at Mum, rushed up to the
bedroom, opened the window and lit up a Silk Cut. Then I noticed Jamie's head

sticking out of window one floor below, also having fag. Two minutes later the
bathroom window opened and an auburn-coiffed head stuck out and lit up. It was
bloody Mum.

12:30 p.m. Gift exchange was nightmare. Always overcompensate for bad
presents, yelping with delight, which means I get more and more horrid gifts

each year. Thus Becca - who, when I worked in publishing, gave me a
worsening series of book-shaped clothes-brushes, shoehorns and hair ornaments
- this year gave me a clapperboard fridge magnet. Una, for whom no household
task must remain ungadgeted, gave me a series of mini-spanners to fit different