"Honestly, Daniel." I was half laughing, I suddenly saw his face. He wasn't laughing.
"Why?" he said, pulling the jacket roughly off my shoulders again. "Why not? Come on."
"No!" I said. "Daniel, we're just going out for dinner. I don't want to kiss you."
He dropped his head forward, breathing unsteadily, then sat up, head back, eyes closed.
I got to my feet, pulling my coat around me, and walked to the table. When I looked back, Daniel had his head in his hands. I realized he was sobbing.
"I'm sorry, Bridge. I've been promoted downstairs. Perpetua's got my job. I feel redundant, and now you don't want me. No girls will want me. Nobody wants a man at my age without a career."
I stared at him in astonishment. "And how do you think I felt last year? When I was bottom of the pile in that office and you were messing me around and making me feel like a re-tread?"
"Re-tread, Bridge?"
Was going to explain about the re-tread theory, but something made me decide I just wouldn't bother.
"I think it'd be best if you go now," I said.
"Oh, come on, Bridge."
"Just go," I said.
Hmm. Anyway. Will just detach from whole thing. Glad am going away. Will be able to free self's head of all men issues in Thailand and concentrate on self.
Saturday 19 July
9st 3 (why? On bikini-purchase day, why?), confusing thoughts about Daniel: too many, bikini bottoms fitted into1, bikini tops fitted into: half, rude thoughts about Prince William 22, no. of times wrote "Prince William and his lovely date Miss Bridget Jones at Ascot" on Hello! magazine 7.
6.30 p.m. Bloody, bloody, bloody. Have spent all day in changing rooms of Oxford Street trying to squeeze my breasts into bikini tops designed for people with breasts either arranged one on top of the other in the centre of their chests or one under each arm, with the harsh downlighting making me look like River Cafe frittata. Obvious solution is one-piece but then will return with already squashily textured stomach highlighted against rest of body by whiteness.
Urgent bikini diet weight-loss target programme: week I
Sun 20 July 9st3
Mon 21 July 9st2
Tues 22 July 9st I
Wed 23 July 9st 0
Thurs 24 July 8st 13
Fri 25 July 8st 12
Sat 26 July 8st 11
Hurray! So by a week today will be almost down to target weight so then, with body-bulk thus adjusted, all will need to do is alter texture and arrangement of fat through exercise.
Oh fuck. Will never work. Am only sharing a room and probably bed with Shaz. Will concentrate instead on my spirit. Anyway Jude and Shaz are coming round soon. Hurrah!
Midnight. Lovely evening. V. nice to be back with girls again, though Shaz whipped herself up into such a frenzy of indignation about Daniel was all I could do to stop her ringing the police and having him arrested for date rape.
"Redundant? You see?" she was ranting. "Daniel's an absolute archetype of fin-de-millennium male. It's becoming clear to him that women are the superior race. He's realizing he has no role or function so what does he do? He turns to violence."
"Well, he only tried to kiss her," said Jude mildly, flicking idly through the pages of What Marquee.
"Pah! That's exactly the point. She's bloody lucky he didn't burst into her bank dressed as an Urban Warrior and kill seventeen people with a sub-macbine gun."