Wednesday 17 May

Foetal movements: O. Cupboards cleaned: office 2; Daniel's flat 12. Cupboards still to be done in Daniel's flat: 27. Cupboards left to be done in world: infinite (disturbing).

10.00am. Daniel says am behaving strangely and have lost balance of mind owing to impending birth. Is untrue. Am perfectly normal.

10.01am. Baby has not moved for two days.

10.05am. Still not moving.

10.06am. Not moving.

10.07am. Still not moving.

10.15 am. Baby is dead. Oh God. Cannot believe have been stressing re: trivial things (like nowhere to live, father of child unstable commitment-phobe) when did not need anything. Could simply have wrapped baby in towel under tree and loved him. Now, instead of relaxing, have KILLED OWN CHILD through stress.

10.30am. Still not moving. Am going to call Daniel and break news.

10.45am. Cannot believe Daniel's inability to separate what is and is not important in life.

Me (tearful): "Oh, Daniel."

Daniel: "...ridiculous ending any important match on penalty shoot-outs. Yes? Who is this?"

Me (hissing): "It's me. Bridget. The baby's dead."

Daniel: "Jones. For God's sakes. We're just about to record the show."

Me (sepulchral monotone): "The baby's dead."

Daniel: "Hello - and tonight we visit Tasmania - the land where convicts once were deported to rape, kill and pillage, in the days before they were allowed to stay in Britain and do it..."

10.20am. Is not as if it is live show. He could at least have taken a few minutes to comfort... oh my God!! Has just been on radio that Heather Mills and Paul McCartney have SPLIT UP!!! Gaaah! Baby has leapt up and started dancing. Is miracle. Paul McCartney and Heather Mills have brought baby back to life through death of own relationship. Gaah! Telephone! Baby has just done jump. Will never stress about anything again.

11.30am. Was Daniel. "OK Jones, they're running a clip of Tasmanian drinking holes. So, how can the baby be dead, when he hasn't been born?"

Tried to explain about absence of foetal movement and McCartney-Mills death-to-life miracle but only response was heavy sigh. "By the way," he said. "Richard Finch called. He suggested you should start your maternity leave right away."

"That's so nice of him," I managed.

"I'm not sure 'nice' is a Richard Finch-appropriate adjective. It seemed more to do with... look - have you or have you not been cleaning out cupboards at Sit Up Britain?"

"Daniel, people simply don't seem to realise how much mess and dirt there is around which is unsuitable for a new baby. If they'd tidied Liverpool harbour more often, maybe they wouldn't have found an unexploded bomb 50 years after the war ended."

There was a pause. "Anyway," he said. "Put your feet up, now, and relax. I have an overpriced army of Lithuanians descending like locusts, devouring mess, and grime. There's no need to clean anything. And don't worry. It's bad for baby."

"How am I supposed not to worry when you're telling me to worry that the worrying will worry the baby?"

"Look. Shut up."

Humph.

1pm. Scouring news channels for details of Mills-McCartney split, trying to analyse why am so excited and pleased by story. Have decided:

1) Is always so nice when things go badly for other people.

2) Makes self feel so much better about bringing child into own dysfunctional set-up when even top celebrities have children in messy relationship breakups. Is same with Ginger Spice getting pregnant in fling with weird scriptwriter then having huge row and not letting him come to birth. For, as even Mum tacitly acknowledges - is lives of celebrities - not Church, Bible - which show us what is normal and acceptable now.

4) Never thought Heather deserved him - even taking into account missing leg - mainly owing to deciding age six that Paul would marry me.

5) Tiny part of self believes there is chance Paul will now marry and take care of me instead of Daniel taking piss. If has put up with high-maintenance Heather, details like cleaning cupboards and deciding baby dead will not seem bad. Is sign of growing maturity with pregnancy that am fantasising re: Paul McCartney again and not, e.g., Pete Doherty.

1.35pm. Marble surface under kettle nowhere near shiny enough for baby.

4.05pm. Kitchen cupboards are really, really disorganised.

7pm. Oh dear. Had just managed to empty all kitchen cupboards, when decided to sleep on sofa. Tried to get up when Daniel came home, but stuck on stomach with hands under self.

"Everything all right there, Jones?"

"Super, thanks!" I managed, in cheery, if strangled, tones. "What's the matter?"

"The entire contents of the kitchen cupboards are all over the floor, so I can't get into the fridge for a beer. For another you're..." - he was beside himself with laughter now - "making ineffectual jerking movements on the sofa like a beached whale."

"You could at least give me a hand."

"No chance. I'm going to find the video camera so one day I can amuse my newly resurrected though unborn son with the havoc he caused within his own mother in his thrust for life."

Never mind, everything will be fine when am married to Paul.