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really has had an awful time. Have arranged to meet him for dinner and he says he's going to sleep this afternoon. Alone, I do so deeply and sincerely hope.

Sunday 2 February

9st 2 (excellent: am turning into Oriental Boy), cigarettes 3 (v.g.), calories 2, 100 (v. modest), boyfriends I again (hurrah!), self-help books counted out loud in dismissive incredulous manner by newly re-instated boyfriend 37 (only sensible in this day and age).

10 p.m. In flat. Everything is good again. Dinner was a bit awkward to start with but got better when decided I did believe him about story, especially as he said I should come and see the housekeeper today.

But then, when we were having our chocolate mousses, he said, "Bridge? Last night even before this happened I'd started to feel as though things weren't right."

Felt cold clunk of dread in stomach. Which was ironic really considering had been thinking things weren't right myself. But really, it is all very well you yourself thinking things aren't right in a relationship, but if the other person starts doing it is like someone else criticizing your mother. Also it starts you thinking you are about to be chucked, which, apart from pain, loss, heartbreak etc. is very humiliating.

"Bridge" Are you in a hypnotic state?"

"No. Why did you think things weren't right?" I whispered.

"Well, every time I tried to touch you, you shrank away as if I were some elderly lech."

Huge sense of relief. Explained to him about the scary pants at which he started really laughing. Ordered some dessert wine, both got a bit squiffy and ended up going back to my flat and having fantastic shag.

This morning, when we were lying around reading the papers in front of the fire, started wondering whether should bring up the Rebecca business, and why he always stays at my house. But then Jude said I shouldn't because jealousy is v. unattractive trait to opposite sex.

"Bridget," said Mark, "you seem to have gone into a trance. I was asking what was the meaning of the new shelving system. Are you meditating? Or is the shelf support system in some way Buddhist?"

"It's because of the electric wire," I said vaguely.

"What are all these books?" he said, getting up and looking at them. "How to Date Young Women: A Guide For Men Over Thirty-Five? If the Buddha Dated? Going For It by Victor Kyam?"

"They're my self-help books!" I said protectively. "What Men Want? Beyond Co-dependency With a Man Who Can't Commit? How to Love Your Separated Man Without Losing Your Mind? You do realize you're building up the largest body of theoretical knowledge about the behaviour of the opposite sex in the known universe. I'm starting to feel like a laboratory animal!"

"Um. . .,

He was grinning at me. "Are you supposed to read them in pairs?" he said, pulling a book off the shelves. "Cover yourself both ways? Happy to Be Single with How to Find Your Perfect Partner in Thirty Days? Buddhism Made Simple with Going For It by Victor Kyam?"

"No," I said indignantly. "You read them individually."

"Why on earth do you buy this stuff?"

"Well, actually I have a theory about this," I began excitedly (because actually I do have a theory about it). "If you consider other world religions such as..."

"Other world religions? Other than what?"

Grrr. Sometimes wish Mark was not so bloody legally trained.

"Other than self-help books."

"Yes, I thought you might be about to say that. Bridget, self-help books are not a religion."

"But they are! They are a new form of religion. It's almost as if human beings are like streams of water so when an obstacle is put in their way, they bubble up and surge around it to find another path."

"Bubble up and surge around, Bridge?"

"What I mean is if the organized religion collapses then people start trying to find another set of rules. And actually, as I was saying, if you look at self-help books they have a lot of ideas in common with other religions."

"Such as ... ?" he said, waving his hand in an encouraging circle.

"Well, Buddhism and..."

"No. Such as what ideas?"

"Well," I began, panicking slightly as unfortunately the theory is not all that well developed as yet, "positive thinking. It says in Emotional Intelligence that optimism, that everything will turn out all right, is the most important thing. Then, of course, there is belief in yourself, like in Emotional Confidence. And if you look at Christianity ..."

"Yeees ... ?"

"Well, that bit they read at weddings, it's the same: "These three things remain: faith, hope and love." Then there's living in the moment - that's The Road Less Travelled and also Buddhist."

Mark was looking me as if I were mad.

". . . And forgiveness: it says in You Can Heal Your Life that holding on to resentment is bad for you and you have to forgive people."

"So what's that then? Not Muslim, I hope. I don't think you find much forgiveness in a faith that lops people's hands off for stealing bread buns."

Mark was shaking his head and staring at me. It did not seem to me that he really understood the theory. But maybe that was because Mark's spiritual soul is not very advanced, which could actually prove to be another problem in our relationship.

"'Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us'!" I said indignantly. Just then the phone rang.

"That'll be dating war command," said Mark. "Or maybe the Archbishop of Canterbury'

Was my mum. "What are you doing still there? Chop, chop. I thought you and Mark were coming to lunch."

"But Mum . . ." Was sure had not said we were coming to lunch, was sure of it. Mark was rolling his eyes and turning on the football.

"Honestly, Bridget. I've made three pavlovas - though actually it's just as easy to make three pavlovas as one, and I've taken a lasagne out and . . ."

Could hear Dad going, "Leave her alone, Parn," in the background as she went on and on huffily about the dangers of refreezing meat, then he came on the phone.

"Don't worry, m'dear. I'm sure you didn't tell her you were coming. It just turned into that in her head. I'll try to calm things down. Anyway, the bad news is, she's going to Kenya."

Mum grabbed the phone. "It's all sorted out with the passport. We got a lovely photo done in that wedding shop in Kettering, you know, where Ursula Collingwood had Karen's pictures done."

"Was it air-brushed?"

"No!" she said, indignantly. "At least they may have done something with the computer but it was nothing to do with brushes. Anyway, Una and I are going next Saturday. Just for ten days. Africa! Imagined'

"What about Dad?"

"Honestly, Bridget! Life is for living! If Daddy wants to live between golf and the potting shed, that's up to him!"

Eventually managed to get away, encouraged by Mark standing over me holding a rolled newspaper in one hand and tapping his watch with the other. Went round to his house and definitely do believe him now, because the housekeeper was there cleaning the kitchen with fifteen members of her family who all seemed to want to worship Mark as a god. Then we stayed at his house and had all candles in the bedroom. Hurrah! Think it is all right. Yes. Is definitely all right. Love Mark Darcy. Sometimes he seems a bit scary but underneath he is very kind and sweet. Which is good. I think.

Particularly as is Valentine's Day in twelve days" time.

Monday 3 February