Bridget Jones's Diary: Ohmygod. Martin Amis does not like it when women make a noise during sex. Total panic

Saturday 5 July

9st 1 (g); alcohol units 4 (g); cigarettes 19 (poor); calories 4,288 (vg).

Have delayed Daniel date to next Tuesday to give self time to improve everything. Am going to go to gym every day also study news and read Money by Martin ... Oooh telephone.

"Oh hello, darling, guess what?" My mother.

"You're pregnant?" I wanted to quip but hesitated to tempt providence.

"Daddy and I are taking Wellington to Henley! Imagine! A Kikuyu at Henley! He's wild with excitement!"

A hideous Black and White Minstrel vision loomed, with Wellington forced to pour out Pimm's, wearing a boater and white lipstick. Surely under the Blair regime Mum and Una could be arrested for this?

"You will come along, won't you darling?"

"No!" I bellowed.

"Now don't be silly Bridget," she hissed in her worst fingertips-in-blender voice. "I've seen a smashing dress in the Laura Ashley sale. Why don't I get it for you and a little white clutch bag?"

"I've got to go out. Late. Sorry bye," I said. Hah. Anyway, better get on with preparation. Have done good study already re: constitutional crisis. Seems to me Charles is in v. weak position as obsessed with what everyone will think instead of what he wants or believes is right, which always makes people do the wrong thing and look stupid. If "Wales" does not marry Camilla he will prove himself typical modern Emotional F***wit: ie commitment phobic only able to cope either with two women or safe thrill of illicit romance, and thus set a bad example to his many male subjects. Of course he should marry her. Would be v romantic and honest after 30 years. Also vg for modern womanhood, showing men's love does not depend on who is youngest, thinnest, prettiest etc. unless, aargh - he goes off with Tiggy Legge-Bourke. Ugh. Horror scenario. Right. Must get on with Money.

Sunday 6 July

Noon Ohmygod. Martin Amis does not like it when women make a noise during sex. For eg Amis says "I heard something telling me that Eileen was a noisemaker who had slipped her gag." Amis is spokesman for generation so men must go round labelling us women pejoratively as noisemakers who have slipped our gags.

12.15pm Just called Shaz in total panic. "We must talk to a man immediately," she said. "I'll get Jude to ask Vile Richard."

"No!" I yelled. "He'll just say the opposite of whatever Jude does to make her feel horrible."

"Simon then."

I went deathly quiet. How could I admit that inadvertently slept with Simon when he came round to comfort me over continuing singletonness crisis? Of course now it is summer, there are definite advantages to freedom as one feels all horny in the hot weather with no bra on. I mean some men are actually wandering round the streets in swimming trunks.


Could not speak. Convinced I did make noise when me and Simon ...


"Ok," I muttered. "Let's take him for a drink."

3.30pm "So?" said Shaz and I, looking at Simon as if he were laboratory sheep-clone.

"Here," belched Simon slurping at his free drink and looking as though he could not believe his luck. "Are both of you not wearing a bra?"

"Will you please answer the question," I said coldly.

"Do you or do you not like it when women make a noise?" hissed Shaz.

"It depends what kind of noise," sniggered Simon. "I mean, `Stop! Stoooooooop!' - well that would be bad. Or a snoring noise ..." He started giggling.

"Or a farting noise," interjected Sharon, also, suddenly, giggling.

"Or, `Is it in yet?'" spurted out Simon.

Suddenly sensed horrifying attraction between two of them. Maybe Simon would sleep with Sharon then fall in love with her because she did not make a noise.

"Seriously," I went on, head down, feeling stupid. "If women make noises of ..."

"High-pitched hyena laughter?" snorted Simon looking at Shazzer.

"Of pleasure," I muttered. I knew I should have just left it but it was vital to know because of Daniel and Tuesday.

"Ah! You mean a noise of appreciation? Of crazed lustful desire? Of awestruck, incredulous ..."

I looked hard into Simon's eyes. He was taking the piss out of me. Surely he could not have forgotten what happened? Then his expression changed.

"Of course you like them to make noise," he said softly. "I mean not like a cow being slaughtered or anything. But nice noise. Otherwise you wonder what's going on."

Next thing Shaz got all sulky. In my view, it is never a good idea to go out in threesomes.

Tuesday 8 July. D Day.

11pm Daniel came round to pick me up, but taking expression literally, picked self up, growled "Sod dinner" rushed to bedroom and flung me down on bed. Was fantastic, scent of him swept over self and was just feeling glad that did not have to resist noise when he looked up and said, "What's that?"

There was someone moving around in the flat. Suddenly the bedroom door burst open.

"Ah there you are darling! I was just going to pop your new dress in the wardrobe as ... aargh!"

My mother was swathed in shimmering citron pleated synthetic, holding an armful of bulbous floral-sprigged frock. There was a pre-nuclear pause.

"Daniel! Get out of that bed and get yourself dressed immediately," she shrilled. "I will not have unprincipled, lily-livered roues in my daughter's life. Now off you go before I spank you."

For a moment he hesitated, then shuffled into his clothes and shot out of the room.

"You see, darling, lily-livered," she said, bustling about putting the dress in the wardrobe. "A real man would have stood his ground. He's worse than silly billy Prince Charles!"

Must buy Bridget's VG intellectual Martin Amis-style `Bridget Jones' Diary: the novel'. Available from Picador direct on 0181-324 5707: paperback at pounds 4.99, audio-tape at pounds 7.99; add 99p p&p for each.