For a while the party was entirely taken over by the recapturing of the pig, and Jeremy giving the petting zookeeper a bollocking. The next I saw of Mark, he was wearing his jacket and saying goodbye to Magda at which Rebecca rushed over and started saying goodbye as well. I looked away quickly and tried not to think about it. Then suddenly Mark was coming over to me.
"I'm, er, off now, Bridget," he said. Could swear I saw him glance down at my tits. "Don't leave with any pieces of meat in your handbag, will you?"
"No," I said. For a moment we just looked at each other. "Oh, thank you, thank you for ... " I nodded to where the incident had happened.
"Not at all," he said softly. "Any time you want me to get a boy off your back." And as if on cue, bloody Giles Benwick reappeared carrying two drinks.
"Oh, are you off, old boy?" he said. "I was just about to pump Bridget for some more of her seasoned advice." Mark looked quickly from one of us to the other.
"I'm sure you'll be in very good hands," he said abruptly. "See you in the office on Monday."
Fuck, fuck, fuck. How come nobody ever flirts with me except when Mark is around?
"Back in the old torture chambers, eh?" Giles was saying, clapping him on the back. "On it goes. On it goes. Off you go then."
Head was in a whirl while Giles went on and on about sending me a copy of 'Feel the Fear and Do It Anyway'. He was very keen to know if Sharon and I were going to Gloucestershire on the twelfth. But the sun seemed to have gone in, there was a lot of crying and 'Mummy will smack'ing going on and everyone seemed to be leaving.
"Bridget." It was Jude. "Do you want to come to 192 for a-" "No we don't," snapped Sharon. "We're going for a post-mortem." Which was a lie as Sharon was meeting Simon. Jude looked stricken. Oh God. Bloody Rebecca has ruined bloody everything. Though must remember not to blame others but take responsibility for everything that happens to self.
Tuesday 1 July
9st I (is working!), progress on hole in wall by Gary 0.
I think I had better accept it now. Mark and Rebecca are an item. Is nothing I can do about it. Have been reading 'The Road Less Travelled' some more and realize you can't have everything you want in life. Some of what you want but not everything you want. Is not what happens to you in life that counts but how you play the cards you are dealt. Am not going to think about the past and procession of disasters with men. Am going to think about the future. Oooh goody, telephone! Hurrah! You see!
Was Tom just ringing up for a moan. Which seemed nice. Until he said, "Oh, by the way, I saw Daniel Cleaver earlier on tonight."
"Oh really, where?" I trilled, in a gay yet strangled voice. Realize am new me and dating embarrassments of past - e.g., just to pluck an example out of the air, finding a naked woman on Daniel's roof last summer when was supposed to be going out with him - would never happen to new me. Even so, however, did not want spectre of Daniel humiliation rearing up alarmingly in manner of Loch Ness monster, or erection.
"In the Groucho Club," said Tom.
"Did you talk to him?"
"Yes."
"What did you say?" I asked dangerously. Whole point about exes is that friends should punish and ignore them, not try to get on with both sides in manner of Tony and Cherie with Charles and Diana.
"Oof. I can't remember now, exactly. I said, um: 'Why were you so horrible to Bridget when she is so nice?"'
There was something about the way he said this in manner of a parrot that suggested he may not have been quoting himself strictly word for word.
"Good," I said, "very good." I paused, determined to leave it at that and change the subject. I mean what do I care what Daniel said?
"So what did he say?" I hissed.
"He said," said Tom, then started laughing. "He said..."
"What?"
"He said..." He was practically crying with laughter now.
"What? What? WHAAAAAAAAT?"
"'How can you go out with someone who doesn't know where Germany is?"'
I let out a high-pitched hyena laugh, almost as one does when one hears one's grandmother has died and believes it to be a joke. Then the reality hit me. I clutched the side of the kitchen table, mind reeling.
"Bridge?" said Tom. "Are you all right? I was only laughing because it's so ... ridiculous. I mean of course you k