Many thanks to Kathy for the continuous feedback and encouragement to keep going.
As I said before, this story was planned out several months ago, even before HF started writing BJD again. Similar events (i.e. pregnancy) are just coincidental. Those of you against the pregnancy storyline, rest assured, it will not be the main focus.
Bridget Jones: Beyond Reason
Chapter XI
Heartache and Pork Rinds
Weight: 9st 1 (likely due to frequent trips to the loo) Cigarettes: 0; Alcohol Units: 0; Memories of New Year shag: 0; Fiancés: 0; Dinner dates: 1; Conversations with a tadpole: 1
Tuesday January 12:30am Don't even remember the drive home from Mark's. Was a haze of stinging tears, headlights, and hooters across the few blocks. Just know that while the rest of the world is out ringing in the New Year, on this night of new beginnings, self is crying hysterically with head in the toilet having now become pathetic rerun of former self, sad Singleton.
Answerphone had been blinking when I stepped into the flat. "Bridget…It's me. Call me when you get this message. I need to know that you got home safely. Please call me." Pause. "I love you." The line went dead…just like self's love life. Not going to call him. He should worry.
4:05am Tried to sleep, but was impossible. Can't believe Mark would sleep with Rebecca Gillis! Can't get the images from my head. She isn't really even his type, so lacquered, showy, and fake. That's what he said he loved about me anyway...that I was not any of those things. Guess that doesn't really matter though, as no man can resist a willing piece of arse. Why do men always feel so inclined to cheat on me? Bastard! Bastard! Bastard! The realization that Mark Darcy is no different than Daniel Cleaver is agonizing. I hate him! Damn! Think I have to puke again.
8:30am Oh my bloody hell! Can't take this nausea anymore. Lying awake, having just gotten back in bed for the third time in 15 minutes. Was afraid to say out loud what I knew in my heart why this was happening, and had been happening for about a week now. Was v. cruel twist of fate indeed.
11:10am Really no point in getting out of bed anymore. Rolled over and buried face in "Mark's" pillow…smelled like his hair. Held it close, curling into fetal position as deluge of tears started again.
12:30pm Mobile…oh, maybe Mark, desperately want to hear his voice, but no…am angry with him. Don't trust him. Hate him. Was Shaz.
"Bridget?" She sounded cautious. "How are you? Are you at Mark's?"
"No. Mark and I are through. He's a lying, cheating, arsehole and I never want to see him again!"
"I'll ring Jude and we'll be round straight away. Don't move." No problem. Have no immediate plans to leave bed…bathe…brush hair...eat (except maybe pork rinds for which in the past few days, have developed newfound appreciation for)…. Will just waste away and die a lonely, smelly, broken woman.
Phone...was a woman peddling cheese of the month subscriptions. Unless that wheel of sodding "January" Gouda is going to curl up next to me at night and talk to me about legal briefs and the fight against discrimination while seductively kissing my neck, want no part of it! Her chirpy singsong voice was irritating and so had no choice but to say something v. rude before hanging up.
Seconds later, phone again… "I thought I told you to fuck off!"
"I…I know you did, but I just wanted to see if we could talk. I'm sorry…sorry…too soon." The line went dead. Gah! Was Mark. He sounded so sad and broken. Maybe should just ring him back and…No, no, no! Must maintain dignity otherwise will just send message to the Mark Darcy's and Daniel Cleaver's of the world that it is perfectly acceptable to fanny about with whomever they please whilst I wait at home with their slippers in hand keeping supper hot in the oven.
5:30pm Jude and Shaz let themselves in, barreling toward me, still lying in bed, with the usual crisis remedies—3 bottles of Chardonnay, one for each of us.
"How are you doing Bridge?" Jude asked sweetly, sitting on the bed next to me, brushing the stray hairs off of my face.
"Miserable." Barely able to lift head from pillow. "The Alsatians may come for me now. I'm ready."
"So the bastard really did do it?" Shaz blurted. "I told you Bridget, once a fuckwit, always a fuckwit!" This is not helping. "Damn it! The nerve of him trying to be all funny and nice at lunch last week." Shaz was pacing as she continued ranting. "He was just trying to suck up to us so we wouldn't suspect anything. The bastard! Jude do you remember how calm and cool he was when that evil two-faced tart walked in? I bet he was sweating in his shorts." Jude noticed that I was not cheering Shaz on, but crying again.
"Bridget, it will be alright. You just need a little time and to stay busy with other things. Maybe we can take a mini-break this weekend. Here, why don't you have a glass of wine and a ciggie. That always makes you feel better." Jude stretched a glass toward me, but I pushed it away, now crying a bit harder. Shaz and Jude were now puffing away on their own cigarettes. Hmm. How lovely a ciggie would be right now, but had officially quite drinking and smoking 9 hours ago, and on the worst day of self's life. Seemed more like 9 days already.
Finally managed to choke out everything that was said last night. Then Shaz jumped in again, "What kind of bloody fool does he take you for? How can you accidentally shag someone? That's fucking rubbish!" She always reacts to an Urban Family crisis much more harshly when something goes wrong in her own love life. Have sneaking suspicion that she may not have rung in New Year exactly as planned either. Will ask about that later.
"You know what the worst part of all of this is?" I continued between sobs. "I'm almost positive that I'm pregnant." Their jaws both dropped.
"Bridget Jones! How are you going to take care of a baby? You can barely afford to take care of yourself." What? No congratulations? Not exactly the reaction I was hoping for from supposed best friends.
"I will be able to take care of my baby and myself just fine thank you very much!" I said indignantly, wiping my tears with a tissue and sitting up for the first time since they had arrived. "And anyway, Mark will make sure that his child is well taken care of." Oh God! What if he wants custody of baby as he thinks I will be an unfit mother as well?
"So you're going to tell him about the baby?"
"Of course I am! I'll have to. It's his baby too! Besides that, he lives 5 blocks away. It's not likely that I'd be able to hide something like that from him." Laid back down. "I'm just not going to tell him yet. I can't face him right now." Reached for another tissue. "I don't know for sure that I am pregnant, but all signs point to it…disastrous morning…afternoon…evening sickness, gigantic, tender breasts, tired…
"I'll run out to the chemist and get you a test," Jude said, reaching for her handbag. "We must find out!"
"I don't need to pee on a stick to know. I just know. Call it my first flash of mother's intuition." Sat back up. "This is supposed to be the happiest time in a woman's life and sodding Mark Darcy has ruined that for me." Mood was fluctuating back to anger again. Had been on a crazy sadness and anger roller coaster all day. Was emotionally exhausting to say the least.
"So what are you going to do?"
"I'll make an appointment with the doctor in the morning." Wonder if obstetricians do home pregnancy examinations so won't have to get out of bed.
"I thought you had to go back to work tomorrow?"
"Fuck!" That's the last thing I want, to deal with Richard Finch and Daniel Cleaver who when together are more like a pair of jackals searching for a poor defenseless rodent to prey upon than actual human beings. They had become fast friends and drinking mates when Daniel joined the Sit Up Britain team, which didn't surprise me in the least.
"So take the day off," Jude suggested. "Tell Finch that you're sick."
"I can't. He already told everybody before we went on holiday that if we aren't back on the 2nd, don't bother coming back."
Later Alone in flat. Opened up laptop Mark had given me as a hand-me-down when he bought a new one last week. Oh, email! Goody! But was only from Richard Finch. He had sent a bulletin with a long list of possible websites that I might want to peruse. Will look at it in the morning. Was sort of hoping that Mark would send me a message. But then again, best that he doesn't.
Mark had helped me set up new email account, BJD.uk… Now just a cruel reminder of what cannot be. There will be no Bridget Jones Darcy.
There were other reminders of Mark around the flat: An issue of British Journal of Politics & International Relations (Ugh!) lay open on the bedside table, his running shoes tucked neatly under the bed, toothbrush next to mine on the wash basin along with the watch I had given him for Christmas, two day old coffee cup on the kitchen counter...Got out one of his blue t-shirts hanging in the wardrobe. Put it on, closing my eyes imagining that it was he that was holding me as I tried desperately to sleep.
Wednesday January 2
8:00am Not looking forward to seeing Daniel Cleaver again having just split from Mark. He will likely feel inclined to let loose with a few snide remarks. Will surely be equivalent to tooth extraction with rusty garden clippers. Don't want it being public knowledge that Mark Darcy and I have split up yet again, likely assuming that it was me that buggered something up. Will have to keep wearing engagement ring for now.
9:30am Sit Up Britain office V. nice to have own car, but wonder if Mark will want it back now that… Arrived for first day back at work on time. Hurrah! That's at least one thing that Finchy can't nag me about today. Speaking of which here he comes…
"Whoa, Bridget Jones!" Ogling self's breasts "Your, uh, clients will love your new look. Well done!"
Ignoring the piggish comment. "Clients?"
"Surely Bridget you haven't forgotten about your big assignment. This is your big break! Just think how proud your big lawyer boyfriend will be of you. I'm thinking alcoholic middle-aged cheating husbands…I'm thinking horny sex addicted man-whores…I'm thinking washed up, pathetic old geezers looking to jack one off with a young tart once more before dying. Are all these dating services really safe and on the straight and narrow, or is that just a front to cover up what's really going on? That's what you're going to find out Ms. Jones!" He was grinning and flailing his arms expressively.
"Well I had my doubts about this assignment, but you've set my mind at ease Richard," I responded sarcastically. He didn't get it. Cannot believe I've gotten myself into this. What does he mean, to cover up what's really going on? Oh shit! Have v. bad feeling that am going to be found dead in the street.
"That's the spirit Bridget," He patted my shoulder and took one last look at my swollen breasts before slithering off.
1:30pm Lunch Break at Dr. office Jude joined me outside the office for moral support, clutching my left hand tightly while I clutched a half eaten bag of pork rinds in the other. Shaz couldn't get away from work. Was a bundle of nerves.
The exam was v. quick and confirmed what I already knew. "Well young lady," (young to him perhaps, as he appeared to be not a day younger than 108) "looks like you are about two weeks along. Congratulations!"
Was prescribed prenatal vitamins, told to eat crackers and plenty of protein, and then sent on my way. Jude looked at me pitifully. Knew what she was thinking, because had thought same thing myself…Poor Bridget, single, "mature" mummy-to-be, cheating baby father, and no money…
1:40pm All will be fine. I am Bridget Jones…self reliant and resourceful. Right.
3:00pm Sit Up Britain office Back in cubicle. 1 hour until afternoon briefing. Had better take a look at those websites.
Meet-A-Mate, LoveLife, DreamDate, Lovers&Friends, Matchmaker…and the list goes on. Had no idea that there were so many lonely Singletons looking for love. Russians, Chinese, Americans, African Bushpeople…turns out that being tragically single is an international epidemic. In a way, makes self feel better, not so disconnected from the human race, as have often felt throughout self's three and a half decades on the planet. This assignment may actually be fun and enlightening after all. Will provide needed distraction from the doom and despair that has become self's reality.
5:20pm Had first ridiculous post-holiday conversation with Daniel Cleaver when all assembled for afternoon briefing. "How are you Daniel?" I said, trying to sound somewhat aloof and disinterested so as not to invite unwelcome flirting.
"Not so great. My flat caught fire the other night." His eyes began to wander and then brighten like a child who had just spotted an enormous bag of sweets. "But on the bright side, your tits are huge. Darcy treat you to a bit of enhancement for Christmas? More of a gift for himself I suspect. Lucky bastard."
"Oh shut up!" Started to turn away to find a seat at the opposite end of the conference room.
"Bridge, is that any way to talk to a man whose home just burned down?"
The conversation ended when Richard Finch entered the room. He ran through the agenda for the month, discussing everyone's individual assignments with usual boorish exuberance. Then he reminded everyone of my assignment and the newbies as well as a few of the veterans actually seemed a bit envious that such a job would be given to me. Felt v. proud. Was finally gaining professional respect and moving up in the world! Hurrah!
Later Finch popped his head into my cubie followed by Daniel. Oh God the jackals are flocking! What?
"Bridget, just wanted to let you know that Cleaver here has volunteered to look after you on your, uh, excursions." Looked from Richard to Daniel, who was wearing his usual smug expression.
"So Daniel has graciously accepted the opportunity to spy on me. I see." Cocked a suspicious brow at Daniel.
"Not spy Bridge; make sure you are safe. You never know what kind of creeps are out there preying on beautiful women such as yourself," Daniel defended. Great. Will be kept "safe" from creeps preying on beautiful women, by the Master creep himself.
9:30pm Ended up having an early dinner appointment (refuse to acknowledge it as a date) with Daniel Cleaver after work. Don't even know how he managed to talk self into it. He's just slyly persuasive in that way. His flat really did catch fire. Felt bad that I didn't believe him at first. Note to self: Never go to bed without first blowing out all candles, even when preoccupied by overnight guests. Shouldn't be a problem, as will not likely ever have an overnight guest again.
Excused self early from the restaurant as was not feeling well. Wasn't really hungry anyway, likely due to baby…or too many pork rinds.
11:40pm Sitting alone in bed…just me and tiny life growing inside. Put a hand on my tummy, but of course not able to actually feel anything, as baby is likely the size of a tadpole.
"Little one, Mummy promises to take good care of you. Actually some would think Mummy incapable as I have made a lot of mistakes in my life, but not now as Mummy is older and wiser and will always do what is best for you. Of course you were unexpected, yes, but not a mistake. Never a mistake.
I know that your daddy will be happy to know about you too, but please forgive Mummy for not telling him about you yet. I will…in time. He's a good man, Baby, and I'll always love him because he gave me such a precious gift, but Mummy can't be with him anymore because he betrayed me just like all the other's before him have. Why, oh why did he have to go after that wicked Rebecca Gillis…sickening stick insect that she is? I so wanted him to be different. Well, he is different, as it is not usually easy for him to express himself or show how he feels. And I, well, I tended to embarrass him without really meaning to. So, when we were together things weren't always so good. I really thought things were starting to work out though… I guess you never know with people.
Your daddy and I have actually known each other for a very long time, since we were children, sort of, but we really didn't start to get to know each other until two years ago. The first time I saw him, I thought he was the most handsome man I had ever seen, but soon began to think that he was way out of my league and quite arrogant. You see, he's a successful barrister who makes sure that people are treated with respect and equality. He grew up very privileged, having the best of everything and went to the best schools, even though I have referred to him on more than one occasion as having a poker up his arse that he is not allowed to remove. Mummy, grew up, well…with Grandmummy and Grandpa and Uncle Jamie. You'll see what I mean after you are born. We lived entirely different lives, but we had an unexplainable attraction to each other. I suppose we still do….like a strange magnetism that makes us want to shag each other whenever we are together. Oops…shouldn't say things like that for little ears to hear. Do you even have ears yet?
Through all of the misunderstandings and miscommunication Daddy and I grew stronger and fell madly in love."
Realized that was crying. Went to the kitchen for a handful of pork rinds and a glass of milk. The doctor says that carbs and proteins before bedtime should ease the morning sickness. Maybe should drink the whole carton of milk. Better go to bed. Have a long day tomorrow.