'Go away, Daniel,' I hissed.
'No. Lemme explain.'
'No.'
'Bridge . . . I wanna come in.'
Silence. Oh God. Why do I still fancy Daniel so much?
'I love you, Bridge.'
'Go away. You're drunk,' I said, with more conviction than I felt.
'Jones?
'What?'
'Can I use your toilet?'
Saturday 29 April
Alcohol units 12, cigarettes 57, calories 8489 (excellent).
Twenty-two hours, four pizzas, one Indian takeaway, three packets of cigarettes and three bottles of champagne later, Daniel is still here. I am in love. I am also now between one and all of the following:
a) Back on thirty a day.
b) Engaged.
c) Stupid.
d) Pregnant.
11:45 p.m. Have just been sick, and as I slumped over the loo trying to do it quietly so Daniel wouldn't hear, he suddenly yelled out from the bedroom, 'There goes your inner poise, my plumptious. Best place for it, I say.'
MAY. Mother-to-Be
Monday 1 May
Alcohol units 0, cigarettes 0, calories 4200 (eating for two).
I seriously think I am pregnant. How could we have been so stupid? Daniel and I were so carried away with euphoria at being back together again that reality seemed to go out of the window – and once you've . . . oh look, I don't want to talk about it. This morning I definitely felt the beginnings of morning sickness, but that could be because I was so hungover after Daniel finally left yesterday that I ate the following things to try to make myself feel better:
2 packets Emmenthal cheese slices.
1 litre freshly squeezed orange juice.
1 cold jacket potato.
2 pieces unbaked lemon cheesecake (very light; also possibly eating for two).
1 Milky Way (125 calories only. Body's enthusiastic response to cheesecake suggested baby needed sugar).
1 chocolate Viennoise dessert thing with cream on top (greedy baby incredibly demanding)
Steamed broccoli (attempt to nourish baby and stop it growing up spoilt).
4 cold Frankfurter sausages, (only available tin in cupboard too exhausted by pregnancy to go out to shop again).