Helen Fielding - Bridget Jones - The Edge of Reason

Relieved that this blatant example of cupboard love was inaudible to anyone but me I whispered, "Might have done."

"Where is it?"

"In my bag."

"Shall we go and get it?"

"Oh, isn't that sweet?" I heard Rebecca coo and looked up to see her and Mark watching as Constance took me by the hand and led me into the cool of the house.

Was quite pleased with Constance's present actually, a packet of Minstrels and a pink Barbie tutu with a gold and pink net sticking-out skirt, which had had to trawl two branches of Woolworth's to find. She liked it very much and naturally - as would any woman - wished to put it on immediately.

"Constance," I said when we had admired it from every angle, "were you pleased to see me because of me or because of the present?"

She looked at me under lowered brows. "The present."

"Right," I said.

"Bridget?"

"Yes."

"You know in Your house?"

"Yes."

"Why haven't you got any toys?,

"Well, because I don't really play with that sort of toy."

"Oh. Why haven't you got a playroom?"

"Because I don't do that sort of playing."

"Why haven't you got a man?"

Couldn't believe it. Had only just walked into the party and was being Smug Marrieded by someone who was three.

Had long quite serious conversation then, sitting on the stairs, about everyone being different and some people being Singletons, then heard a noise and looked up to see Mark Darcy looking down at us.

"Just, er. The loo is upstairs, I assume?" he said uninterestedly. "Hello, Constance. How's Pingu?"

"He isn't real," she said, glowering at him.

"Right, right," he said. "Sorry. Stupid of me to be so" he looked straight into my eyes - "gullible. Happy birthday, anyway." Then he made his way past us without even giving me a kiss hello or anything. 'Gullible'. Did he still think I was unfaithful with Gary the Builder and the dry-cleaning man? Anyway, I thought, I don't care. it doesn't matter. Everything's fine and I'm completely over him.

"You look sad," said Constance. She thought for a moment, then took a half-sucked Minstrel out of her mouth and put it in mine. We decided to go back outside to show off the tutu, and Constance was immediately swept up by a maniacal Rebecca.

"Ooh, look, it's a fairy. Are you a fairy? What kind of fairy are you? Where's your wand?" she gabbled.

"Great present, Bridge," said Magda. "Let me get you a drink. You know Cosmo, don't you?"

"Yes," I said, heart sinking, taking in the quivering jowls of the enormous merchant banker.

"So! Bridget, great to see you!" bellowed Cosmo, eyeing me up and down leerily. "How's work?"

"Oh, great actually " I lied, relieved that he wasn't launching straight into my love life. How things had moved on! "I'm working in TV now."

"TV? Marvellous! Bloody marvellous! Are you in front of the camera?"

"Only occasionally," I said in the sort of modest tone that suggested I was practically Cilla Black but didn't want anyone to know.

"Ohl A celebrity, eh? And" - he leaned forward in a concerned manner - "are you getting the rest of your life sorted out?"

Unfortunately at that moment Sharon happened to be passing. She stared at Cosmo, looking like Clint Eastwood when he thinks somebody is trying to double-cross him.

"What kind of question is that?" she growled.

"What?" said Cosmo, looking round at her, startled.

"'Are you getting the rest of your life sorted out?'" What do you mean by that exactly?"

"Well, ah, you know ... when is she going to get ... you know.. ."

"Married? So basically just because her life isn't exactly like yours you think it isn't sorted out, do you? And are you getting the rest of your life sorted out, Cosmo? How are things going with Woney?"

"Well I ... well," huffed Cosmo, going bright red in the face.

"Oh, I am sorry. We've obviously hit a sore spot. Come on, Bridget, before I put my big foot in it again!"

"Shazzerl" I said, when we were at a safe distance.

"Oh, come on," she said. "Enough, already. They just can't go around randomly patronizing people and insulting their lifestyles. Cosmo probably wishes Woney would lose four stone and stop doing that shrieking laugh all day but we don't just assume that the minute we've met him, and decide it's our business to rub it in, do we?" An evil gleam came into her eye. "Or maybe we

should," she said, grabbing hold of my arm and changing direction back towards Cosmo, only to be confronted by Mark and Rebecca and Constance again. Oh Christ.

"Who do you think is older, me or Mark?" Rebecca was saying.

"Mark," said Constance sulkily, looking from side to side as if planning to bolt.

"Who do you think is older, me or Mummy?" Rebecca went on playfully.

"Mummy," said Constance disloyally, at which Rebecca gave a tinkly little laugh.

"Who do you think is older, me or Bridget?" said Rebecca, giving me a wink.

Constance looked up at me doubtfully while Rebecca beamed at her. I nodded quickly at Rebecca.

"You," said Constance.

Mark Darcy let out a burst of laughter.

"Shall we play fairies?" Rebecca trilled, changing tack, trying to take Constance by the hand. "Do you live in a fairy castle? Is Harry a fairy too? Where are your fairywairy friends?"

"Bridget," said Constance, looking at me levelly, "I think you'd better tell this lady I'm not really a fairy."

Later on, as I was recounting this to Shaz, she said darkly, "Oh God. Look who's here."

Across the garden was Jude, radiant in turquoise, chatting to Magda but without Vile Richard.

"The girls are here!" said Magda gaily. "Look! Over there!"

Shaz and I stared down studiously into our glasses as if we hadn't noticed. When we looked up, Rebecca was bearing down on Jude and Magda mwah-mwahing like a social-climbing literary wife who's just spotted Martin Amis talking to Gore Vidal.

"Oh Jude, I'm so happy for you, it's wonderful!" she gushed.

"I don't know what that woman's on but I want some of it," muttered Sharon.

"Oh, you and Jeremy must come, no you must. You absolutely must," Rebecca was going now. "Well, bring them! Bring the children! I love children! Second weekend in July. It's my parents' place in Gloucestershire. They'll love the pool. All sorts of lovely, lovely people are coming! I've got Louise Barton-Foster, Woney and Cosmo . . ." Snow White's step-mother, Fred and Rosemary West and Caligula, I thought she might go on.

". . . Jude and Richard, and Mark'll be there of course, Giles and Nigel from Mark's office . . ."

I saw Jude glance in our direction. "And Bridget and Sharon?" she said.

"What?" said Rebecca.

"You've invited Bridget and Sharon?"

"Oh." Rebecca looked flustered. "Well, of course, I'm not sure we've got enough bedrooms but I suppose we could use the cottage." Everyone stared at her. "Yes, I have!" She looked round wildly. "Oh, there you two are! You're coming on the twelfth, aren't you?"

"Where?" said Sharon.

"To Gloucestershire."

"We didn't know anything about it," said Sharon loudly.

"Well. You do now! Second weekend in July. It's just outside Woodstock. You've been before, haven't you, Bridget?"

"Yes," I said, colouring, remembering that hideous weekend.

"So! That's great! And you're coming, Magda, so. . ."

"Um...." I began.

"We'd love to come," said Sharon firmly, treading on my foot.

"What? What?" I said when Rebecca had whinnied off.

"Of course we're bloody well going," she said. "You're not letting her hijack all your friends just like that. She's trying to bludgeon everyone into some ridiculous social circle of suddenly needed nearly friends of Mark's ready for the two of them to plop into like King and Queen Buzzy-bee."

"Bridget?" said a posh voice. I turned to see a shortish sandy-haired guy in glasses. "It's Giles, Giles Benwick. I work with Mark. Do you remember? You were terribly helpful on the phone that night when my wife said she was leaving."