'No, really.'
'Silverskin onion?' I encouraged. 'Beetroot cube?'
'Thank you,' he said desperately, taking an olive.
'Hope you enjoy it,' I said triumphantly.
Towards the end I saw him being harangued by his mother and Una, who marched him over towards me and stood just behind while he said stiffly, 'Do you need driving back to London? I'm staying here but I could get my car to take you.'
'What, all on its own?' I said.
He blinked at me.
'Durr! Mark has a company car and a driver, silly,' said Una.
'Thank you, that's very kind,, I said. 'But I shall be taking one of my trains in the morning.'
2 a.m. Oh, why am I so unattractive? Why? Even a man who wears bumblebee socks thinks I am horrible. Hate the New Year. Hate everyone. Except Daniel Cleaver. Anyway, have got giant tray-sized bar of Cadbury's Dairy Milk left over from Christmas on dressing table, also amusing joke gin and tonic miniature. Am going to consume them and have fag.
9st 4 (terrifying slide into obesity – why? why?), alcohol units6 (excellent), cigarettes 23 (v.g.), calories 2472.
9 a.m. Ugh. Cannot face thought of go to work. Only thing which makes it tolerable is thought of seeing Daniel again, but even that is inadvisable since am fat, have spot on chin, and desire only to sit on cushion eating chocolate and watching Xmas specials. It seems wrong and unfair that Christmas, with its stressful and unmanageable financial and emotional challenges, should first be forced upon one wholly against one's will, then rudely snatched away just when one is starting to get into it. Was really beginning to enjoy the feeling that normal service was suspended and it was OK to lie in bed as long as you want, put anything you fancy into your mouth, and drink alcohol whenever it should chance to pass your way, even in the mornings. Now suddenly we are all supposed to snap into self-discipline like lean teenage greyhounds.