Helen Fielding - Bridget Jones - The Edge of Reason

11.30 a.m. Right. Will start by moving all piles of newspapers into one central pile.

11.40 a.m. Ugh, though.

12.15 p.m. Maybe will do in-tray first.

12.20 p.m. Clearly impossible without getting properly dressed.

12.25 p.m. Not keen on look in shorts. Too sporty somehow. Need little slippy dress thing.

12.35 P.m. Now where is it?

12-40 p.m. Just needs washing through and hanging out to dry. Then can get on.

12.55 p.m. Hurrah! Am going swimming to Hampstead Ponds with Jude and Shazzer! Have not done legs but Jude says pond is ladies only and teeming with lesbians who consider it mark of gay pride to be as hairy as yetis. Hurrah!

Midnight. Was fantastic at ponds, like painting of sixteenth-century nymphs only rather more of them than would expect in Dorothy Perkins swimsuits. V. oldfashioned, with wooden decking and lifeguards. Swimming in natural environment with mud on bottom* totally new sensation.

*bottom of pond, not own bottom

Told them what Tom had said about the Babyfather idea. "My God!" said Shaz. "Well, I think it's a good idea. Except that on top of 'Why aren't you married ?' you'd have 'Who's the father?' to contend with."

"I could say it was an immaculate conception," I suggested.

"I think all this would be extremely selfish," said Jude coldly.

There was a stunned pause. We peered at her, trying to work out what was going on.

"Why?" said Shaz eventually.

"Because a child needs two parents. You would be doing it to satisfy yourself when actually you're just too selfish to have a relationship."

Blimey. I could see Shaz taking out a sub-machine gun and gunning her down. Next thing Shaz was off on one, ranting away with a no-holds-barred sphere of eclectic cultural reference.

"Look at the Caribbean," she ranted while the other girls looked round in alarm and thought, mmm, Caribbean. Lovely luxury hotel and white sand.

"The womenfolk bring the children up in compounds," Shaz declared. "And the men just turn up sometimes and shag them, and now the women are getting economic power and there are pamphlets saying "Men at Risk" because they're losing their role just like they are ALL OVER THE FUCKING WORLD."

Sometimes wonder if Sharon really is quite such a Ph.D.-style authority on, well, everything, as she pretends to be.

"A child needs two parents," said Jude doggedly.

"Oh for God's sake that's a completely narrow, paternalistic, unrealistic, partisan Smug- Middle -Class -Married Parent view," hissed Shaz. "Everyone knows a third of all marriages end in divorce."

"Yes!" I said. "Being with one mother who loves you is bound to be better than being the product of a bitter divorce. Children need relationships and life and people around but it doesn't have to be a husband." Then suddenly remembering something my - ironically enough mother always comes out with I said, "You can't spoil a child by loving it."

"Well, there's no need to gang up on me about it," said Jude huffily, "I'm only giving my view. Anyway, I've got something to tell you."

"Oh yeah? What-" said Shaz. "You believe in keeping human slaves?"

"Vile Richard and I are getting married."

Sbazzer and I gawped in mute horror as Jude looked down, blushing winningly.

"I know, isn't it wonderful? I think when I chucked him the last time he realized you don't know what you've got till it's gone - and that finally jerked him into being able to commit."

"Finally jerked him into realizing he'd have to get a bloody job if he couldn't live off you any more, more like," muttered Shaz.

"Er, Jude," I said. "Did you just say you were going to marry Vile Richard?"

"Yes," said Jude. "And I wondered - will you two be bridesmaids?"

9st 2 (phantom baby departed in horror at impending wedding), alcohol units 3, cigarettes 15 (may as well smoke and drink freely now), Mark fantasies 2 only (excellent).

Shaz just called and both agreed that whole thing is doom. Doom. And that Jude must not marry Vile Richard because:

a) He is mad.

b) He is viler Vile by name and vile by nature.

c) Is intolerable to have to dress up as pink puffballs and walk down aisle with everybody watching.

Am going to call Magda and tell her. "What do you think?" I said.

"Hmm. It doesn't seem like a very promising idea. But you know, people's relationships are quite mysterious," she said enigmatically. "No one from the outside ever really understands what makes them work."

Conversation then moved on to the Babymother idea at which Magda unaccountably seemed to brighten.

"You know what, Bridge? I think you should try it out first, I really do."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, why don't you look after Constance and Harry for an afternoon and see how it goes. I mean I've often thought time-share was the. answer for modern womanhood."

Blimey. Have promised to have Harry, Constance and the baby next Saturday while she has her highlights done. Also she and Jeremy are having a garden party in six weeks' time for Constance's birthday and she asked if I wanted her to invite Mark, I said yes. You see he has not seen me since February and it will be really good for him to see how I have changed and how calm and poised and full of inner strength I am now.

Got into work to find Richard Finch in a foul hyperactive mood, jumping around the room chewing and shouting at everyone. (Sexy Matt, who was looking particularly like a DKNY model this morning, told Horrid Harold he thought that Richard Finch was on cocaine.)

Anyway, it turned out the channel controller had turned down Richard's idea to replace the breakfast news slot with live "warts and all" coverage of the Sit Up Britain team's morning meeting. Considering the Sit Up Britain's last morning 'meeting' consisted of an argument about which of our presenters was going to cover the lead story; and the lead story was about which presenters were going to be presenting the BBC and ITV news, I don't think it would have been a very interesting programme; but Richard was really pissed off about it.

"Do you know what's the trouble with the news?" he was saying, taking his gum out of his mouth and flinging it in the vague direction of the bin. "It's boring. Boring, boring, bloody boring."

"Boring?" I said. "But we're just seeing the launch of the first Labour government for ... for several years!"

"My God," he said, whipping off his Chris Evans-type glasses. "Have we got a new Labour government? Have we really? Everyone! Everyone! Gather round. Bridget's got a scoop!"

"And what about the Bosnian Serbs?"

"Oh wake up and smell the de-caf cap," whined Patchouli. "So they want to carry on shooting at each other behind bushes? So? It's just so, like, five minutes ago."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," said Richard with mounting excitement. "People don't want dead Albanians in headscarves, they want people. I'm thinking Nationwide. I'm thinking Frank Bough, I'm thinking skateboarding ducks."

So now we all have to think up Human Interest like snails that get drunk or old people going bunjee jumping. I mean how are we supposed to organize a geriatric bunjee jump by ... Ah, telephone! That'll be the Mollusc and Small Amphibian Association.

"Oh, hello, darling, guess what?"

"Mum," I said dangerously, "I've told you..."

"Oh I know, darling. I just rang to tell you something very sad."

"What?" I said sulkily.

"Wellington's going home. His speech at the Rotary was fantastic. Absolutely fantastic. Do you know, when he talked about the conditions the children in his tribe live in Merle Robertshaw was actually crying! Crying!"

"But I thought he was raising money for a jet-ski bike."

"Oh he is, darling. But he came up with this marvellous scheme which is right up the Rotary's street. He said if they donated money he'd not only give the Kettering branch a ten per cent share in the profits, but if they'd give half of that to his village school he'd match it with another five per cent of his profits. Charity and small business - isn't that clever? Anyway they raised four hundred pounds and he's going back to Kenya! He's going to build a new school! Imagine! Just because of us! He did a lovely slide show with Nat King Cole's "Nature Boy" underneath it. And at the end he said "Hakuna Matata!", and we've adopted it as our mottos."