4 p.m. Just back from walk round 'garden'. Rebecca kept installing me in conversations with men, then dragging Mark off miles ahead of everyone else. Ended up walking along with Rebecca's nephew: sub-Leonardo DiCaprio lookalike, hunted-looking in an Oxfam overcoat, whom everyone referred to as 'Johnny's boy'.
"I mean, like, I do have a name," he muttered.
"Oh don't be absuuuuuuuuuurd!" I said, pretending to be Rebecca. "What is it?"
He paused, looking embarrassed. "St John."
"Oh." I sympathized.
He laughed and offered me a fag.
"Better not," I said, nodding in Mark's direction.
"Is he your boyfriend or your father?"
He steered me off the path towards a mini lake and lit me a cigarette.
Was v. nice smoking and giggling naughtily. "We'd better go back," I said, stubbing cigarette out under my welly. Others were miles ahead, so we had to run: young and wild and free, in manner of Calvin Klein adverts. When we caught up Mark put his arms round me. "What have you been doing?" he said into my hair. "Smoking like a naughty schoolgirl?"
"I haven't had a cigarette for five years!" tinkled Rebecca.
7 p.m. Mmm. Mmm. Mark just got all horny before supper. Mmmmm.
Midnight. Rebecca made a great fuss of putting me next to "Johnny's boy" at dinner - 'You two are getting on sooooooo well!!' - and herself next to Mark.
They looked perfect together in their black tie. Black tie! As Jude said, was only because Rebecca wanted to show off her figure in Country Casuals gear and evening wear like Miss World entrant. Right on cue she went, "Shall we change into our swimwear now?" and tripped off to change, reappearing minutes later in an immaculately cut black swimsuit, legs up to the chandelier.
"Mark," she said, "would you give me a hand? I need to take the cover off the pool."
Mark looked from her to me worriedly.
"Of course. Yes," he said awkwardly and disappeared after her.
"Are you going to swim?" said the whippersnapper. "Well," I began, "I wouldn't want you to think I'm not a determined and keenly motivated sportswoman, but eleven o'clock at night after a five-course dinner is not my most swimmy time."
We chatted for a while, then I noticed t
he last of our fellow diners were leaving the room.
"Shall we go and have coffee?" I said, getting up. "Bridget." Suddenly, he lurched drunkenly forward, and started trying to kiss me. The door burst open. Was Rebecca and Mark.
"Oops! Sorry" said Rebecca, and shut the door.
"What do you think you're doing!" I hissed, horrified, at the whippersnapper.
"But ... Rebecca said you told her you really fancied me, and, and..."
"And what?"
"She said you and Mark were in the process of splitting up."
I grabbed the table for support. "Who told her that?"
"She said" - he looked so mortified I felt really sorry for him -"she said Mark did."
Sunday 23 February
12st 4 (probably), alcohol units 3 (since midnight and is only 7 a. m.), cigarettes 100,000 (feels like), calories 3,275, positive thoughts 0, boyfriends: extremely uncertain figure.