Bridget Jones: Mad About the Boy

The cruise-ship shot morphed into a mosaic of pictures, zooming in on a photo of Mum and Una boarding the ship and waving.

‘Gentlemen Prefer Blondes!’ said Una into the mic, cueing the slideshow soundtrack of Marilyn Monroe and Jane Russell singing ‘Two Little Girls from Little Rock’ over a shot of Mum and Una in a horrifying Gentlemen Prefer Blondes homage, lying side by side on a double bed in the cabin, looking coquettishly towards the camera, one leg each raised in the air.

‘Oh, my word,’ said Kenneth.

Then suddenly the soundtrack was masked by a familiar electronic tune and the slideshow was replaced by a lurid cartoon of a dragon belching fire at a one-eyed purple wizard. Sat, frozen, realizing that this was Wizard101. Could it possibly . . . could Billy possibly have got on a computer and . . .? Suddenly the Wizard101 page disappeared to be replaced by my EMAIL INBOX PAGE, saying ‘Welcome, Bridget’, with a list of subjects, the first one, from Tom, entitled ‘St Oswald’s House Cruise Event Nightmare’. What was Billy DOING?

‘Excuse me, excuse me,’ I said, panicking, making my way along the row, amidst the general consternation, trying to avoid Mum’s eye.

Rushed out into the hallway and back to the balloon room, to find Billy, oblivious, tapping furiously at a MacBook Air, which was attached to a lot of wire and Ethernet hubs on a side table.

‘Billy!’

‘Wait! I just got to finish this leveeeeel! I didn’t go on your email. I was trying to retrieve my password.’

‘Come off that,’ I rasped. I managed to forcibly get him off, close the Wizard101 and Yahoo windows, and drag him back to the balloons, just as a man in wire glasses rushed in and up to the laptop, looking traumatized.

‘Has anyone touched this?’ he said, eyes darting incredulously around the room. I looked at Billy’s face, hoping Billy would remain silent or lie. He frowned thoughtfully, and I could see him remembering all my bloody lectures about the importance of honesty and telling the truth. ‘Not now!’ I wanted to yell. ‘It’s all right to lie when Mummy needs you to!’

‘Yes, it was me,’ said Billy ruefully. ‘And I didn’t mean to go on Mummy’s email but I forgot my password.’

9.15 p.m. At home. In bed now. On top of the whole appalling disaster, the question still remains of what I am going to do about babysitter on Friday. Tried suggesting Friday night to Mum, after the furore had died down, but she just looked at me coldly and said it was Aqua-Zumba.

9.30 p.m. Tried Magda, but she is going to be on a short break to Istanbul with Cosmo and Woney.

‘I wish I could, Bridge,’ she said. ‘We always had my mother for babysitting emergencies, it must be tricky having had the children older. Is it that the kids are too young for you to help her, and she’s too old to help you?’

‘No,’ I said. ‘She’s got Aqua-Zumba.’

Am going to have to try Daniel.

10.45 p.m. Called Daniel.

‘Who are you shagging, Jones?’

‘No one.’

‘I demand to know.’

‘I’m not, it’s just—’

‘I shall punish you.’

‘I just thought you’d like to have them to stay.’

‘Jones. You have always been the most cataclysmically awful liar. I am wild with sexual jealousy. I feel tragic, a past-it old fool.’

‘Daniel, don’t be ridiculous, you’re incredibly attractive and virile and young-looking and irresistibly sexy and—’

‘I know, Jones, I know. Thank you, thank you.’

Upshot is Daniel is coming round on Friday at six thirty to take them to his place!





TO SLEEP WITH OR NOT TO SLEEP WITH?


Wednesday 30 January 2013

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