Bridget Jones's Diary 精彩片段：
OCTOBER Date with Darcy
Sunday 1 October 8st 11, cigarettes 17, alcohol units 0 (u.g., esp for party). 4 a.m. Startling. One of the most startling evenings of life.
After got depressed on Friday Jude came round and talked to me about being more positive about things, bringing with her fantastic black dress for me to borrow for party. Was worried that might split or spill on the dress but she said she had lots of money and dresses because of top job and did not matter so not to worry about it. Love Jude. Girls are so much nicer than men (apart from Tom-but homosexual). Decided to accessorize fantastic dress with black tights with Lycra and Light Shimmer (￡6.95) and Pied à terre kitten-heel black suede shoes (have got mashed potato off).
Had shock on arrival at the party as Mark Darcys house was not a thin white terraced house on Portland Road or similar as had anticipated, but huge, detached wedding cake-style mansion on the other side of Holland Park Avenue (where Harold Pinter, they say, lives) surrounded by greenery. He had certainly gone to town for his mum and dad. All the trees were dotted with red fairy lights and strings of shiny red hearts in a really quite endearing manner and there was a red and white canopied walkway leading all the way up the front path. At the door things began to look even more promising as we were greeted by serving staff who gave us champagne and relieved us of our gifts (I had bought Malcolm and Elaine a copy of Perry Como love songs from the year they were married, plus a Body Shop Terracotta Essential Oil Burner as an extra present for Elaine as she had been asking me about Essential Oils at the Turkey Curry Buffet). Next we were ushered down a dramatic curved pale wood stairway lit by red heart-shaped candles on each step. Downstairs was one vast room, with a dark wood floor and a conservatory giving onto the garden. The whole room was lit by candles. Dad and I just stood and stared, completely speechless. Instead of the cocktail fancies you would expect at a parent-generational do —compartmentalized cut-glass dishes full of gherkins; plates sporting savory doilies and half grapefruits bespined with cheese-and-pineapple-chunk-ladened.toothpicks — there were large silver trays containing prawn wontons, tomato and mozzarella tartlets and chicken sate. The guests looked as though they couldnt believe their luck, throwing their heads back and roaring with laughter. Una Alconbury looked as though she had just eaten a lemon. Oh dear, said Dad, following my gaze, as Una bore down on us. Im not sure this is going to be Mummy and Unas cup of tea.’
Bit showy, isnt it? said Una the second she was within earshot, pulling her stole huffily around her shoulders. I think if you take these things too far it gets a bit common.’
Oh, dont be absurd, Una. Its a sensational party, said my father, helping himself to his nineteenth canapé.
Mmm. I agree, I said through a mouthful of tartlet, as my champagne glass was filled as if from nowhere, s bloody fantastic. After psyching myself up for so long for Jaeger two-piece hell, I was euphoric. No one had even asked me why I wasnt married yet.
Humph, said Una. Mum too was now bearing down on us.
Bridget, she yelled. Have you said hello to Mark?
I suddenly realized, cringing, that both Una and Mum must be coming up to their ruby weddings soon. Knowing Mum, it is highly unlikely she will let a trifling detail like leaving her husband and going off with a tour operator stand in the way of the celebrations and will be determined not to be outdone by Elaine Darcy at whatever price, even the sacrifice of a harmless daughter to an arranged marriage.
Hold hard there, big feller, said my dad, squeezing my arm.
What a lovely house. Havent you got a nice stole to put over your shoulders, Bridget?
Dandruff! trilled Mum, brushing Dads back. Now, darling. Why on earth arent you talking to Mark?’
Urn, well . . . I mumbled.
What do you think, Pam? hissed Una tensely, nodding at the room.