Bridget Jones's Diary 精彩片段：
JULY Huh
Sunday 2 July 8st 10 (continuing good work), alcohol units 0, cigarettes 0, calories 995, Instants 0: perfect.
7.45 a.m. Mum just rang. Oh, hello, darling, guess what?’
Ill just take the phone in the other room. Hang on, I said, glancing over nervously at Daniel, unplugging the phone, creeping next door and plugging it in again only to find my mother had not noticed my absence for the last two and a half minutes and was still talking.
. . . So what do you think, darling?’
Um, I dont know. I was bringing the phone into the other room like I said, I said.
Ah. So you didnt hear anything?’
No. There was a slight pause.
Oh, hello, darling, guess what? Sometimes I think my mother is part of the modern world and sometimes she seems a million miles away. Like when she leaves messages on my answerphone which just say, very loudly and clearly, Bridget Joness mother.’
Hello? Oh, hello, darling, guess what? she said, again.
What? I said resignedly.
Una and Geoffrey are having a Tarts and Vicars party in the garden on the twenty-ninth of July.
Dont you thin thats fun! Tarts and Vicars! Imagine!’
I tried hard not to, fighting off a vision of Una Alconbury in thigh boots, fishnet nights and a peephole bra. For sixty-year-olds to organize such an event seemed unnatural and wrong.
Anyway, we thought it would be super if you and — coy, loaded pause — Daniel, could come.