Bridget Jones's diary

Daniel said we could not go away for the weekend as he had to work, then spent all afternoon in living room watching Wimbledon in his underpants, drinking Fosters and smoking Marlboros. Sometimes he can be such a ...

Wednesday 28 June 9st 3lb (swollen up in heat), cigarettes 11, alcohol units 5, calories 1,648, Instants 2, 1471 calls 3. Excellent, restrained day.

Increasingly irritated with the TV news bulletins for going on and on about the stupid Conservative Party instead of getting on with Hugh and Elizabeth. Halfway through News at Ten, just when Hugh and Elizabeth was starting, the phone rang, throwing me into a panic about which to go for - unbelievably inconsiderate of someone. Ended up missing both, as the caller rang off when the answerphone clicked on.

No matter - quickly dialled 1471, which tells you the number of the last person who called. "Telephone number 0171-373 7409 is stored," said the weird, computerised lady's voice. Daniel's number. I dialled it. "Did you just ring?" I asked him. "No," he said airily, "I was watching the news."

Hah! I have been keeping the existence of 1471 from Daniel, so he had no idea I knew he was lying. This filled me with heady excitement. The fact that he (a) didn't leave a message and (b) pretended he hadn't rung me means that he is uncool enough about me to want either to check up on me or play it cool, either of which might mean that he really loves me.

Daniel's recent fit of being the perfect boyfriend was evidently some kind of freak or drug-induced side-effect, as it is now over and he claims to have no memory of offering to take me to Bali in August ("Bali? August? But it's the sales conference in August!") and has gone back to being incapable of making any arrangements whatsoever in advance. I was hoping he'd rung to make a plan for the lovely hot forthcoming weekend, but no.

"Did you hear that the police have dropped charges against Hugh Grant?" he said.

"No," I said, pointedly. "I missed it because somebody rang in the middle."

"Yes," he said gleefully, almost bursting out laughing at his hilarious joke. "Apparently somebody swallowed the evidence."

Thursday 30 June

9st 2lb, cigarettes 3 (vg), alcohol units 4, calories 1,326, Instants 0 (excellent), 1471 calls 6 (bad)

Hurray. Managed to persuade Perpetua to let me stay at home to read sub- Birdsong rip-off Second World War romance manuscript. Certain she only agreed because she wants to sunbathe and watch Wimbledon, too. Only problem being, it seems I actually have to read the moronic manuscript, as she wants to "discuss it" - ie, test me on it - first thing tomorrow. Hopeless, as cannot stay awake for more than a few moments at a time. Felt if John Redwood proposed national siesta between 12 and 4 he would walk it.

6pm Just called Jude, who was furious with me as had just come in from work and was about to call 1471 to see if her ex-boyfriend Richard had called and now my number will be stored instead. Jude says she does not like 1471 any more as it is exploitation by British Telecom of the addictive personalities and relationship breakdown endemic among the British populace and she is calling it seven or eight times a day. Also, she says, if you have just split up with, or started sleeping with, someone, it doubles misery potential when you come home: no-number-stored-on-1471-misery to add to no-message-on-answerphone-misery, or number-stored-turning-out- to-be-Mother's.

Jude says that in America the 1471 equivalent tells you all the numbers that have rung you since last time you checked, and how many times. Shudder with horror at the thought of own obsessive calling of Daniel's number in early days being exposed in this way. The good thing over here is that if you dial 150 before you ring, it stops your number being stored on the other person's phone. Jude says you have to be careful, though, because if you are stalking someone obsessively and you ring when they are in, then ring off and no number is stored, they might guess it was you. Must make sure Daniel does not find out about any of this. It is all too enjoyable when he does not know. Oh, I really want to go mini-breaking this weekend. It would be so lovely, lying on some grassy riverbank in the sunshine, snogging lazily with Daniel and sipping Pimms, or maybe even in a small boat, with Daniel rowing and me in a long dress possibly from Ghost.

Saturday 1 July

(or rather Sunday 2am. In kitchen having cigarette, worrying about relationship).

Huh. Daniel said we could not go away for the weekend as he had to work today, then spent all afternoon in my living room in his underpants with the curtains closed, watching Wimbledon, drinking cans of Fosters and smoking Marlboros. Sometimes he can be such a ... Well, tonight, for example, we went to a party at one of his friend's, Wicksy, whom I did not know, where there was no one I knew, so I ended up doing a lot of tagging along after Daniel. At one point we went over to join Wicksy and a very pretty girl he was talking to, who, I noticed, looked a bit funny when we approached.

"Daniel," said Wicksy, "have you met Vanessa?"

"Hi," said Daniel, putting on his most flirtatious seductive grin and holding out his hand. "Nice to meet you ... Vanessa."

"Daniel," said Vanessa, folding her arms and looking absolutely livid. "We've slept together."