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I will kill Harvey Bane. Hi, Anna.
Look at the bright side.
Rain is very good for the skin.
In a couple of hours, I'll have a face like a baby's bottom.
I will do it slowly.
I'm sure there must be a positive side to pneumonia.
Cut off his ears first. I never liked his ears.
The rain is not Harvey's fault.
Yes, of course it is. Everything is Harvey's fault.
Mainly the bloody baby bus is Harvey's fault.
Buses break down occasionally.
Especially when they're a hundred years old, never serviced and driven by
Portuguese gardeners who sacrifice sheep in them.
He does not, Diana.
You do exaggerate.
Here it comes.
Come on, you lot. Get out your passes, gather up your dead and for God's sake,
let's get on the bus.
Pensioner's passes aren't operative until 9 .30.
It's only 9 .26.
Thank you.
Tough. I don't believe this.
That's wrong.
He always does this.
But it's our fault for being pensioners.
to spend the day...
Well, yes, but... No, but... But... No, but...
Goodbye.
Well, I certainly told him.
Hello, Harvey.
God, Jane, you look awful.
How many times do I have to tell you I'm a man of delicate sensibilities? And it
really upsets me to see a hideous woman dripping round the office.
and the bus was late. Oh, God, Jane, don't whine. Do you want to give me an
answer? Now, what do you want?
There was a bit of an incident on the bus. Don't talk to me about incidents.
I've just had the police on the phone with a string of incidents.
Basil Makey throwing some sort of sex festival in the public library.
Diana Trent in boots hitting that nice lady with a squint.
And Tom Ballard, now, what was he doing throwing a boomerang from the window of
a moving train?
Einstein's theory of relativity.
Einstein? Who's he, another troublemaker?
A scientist and philosopher who theorised that the time -space continuum
probably a curve.
Oh, that Einstein.
Tom, by throwing an object that curved naturally in flight was trying to prove
that it should return to the same place a second or two before it left.
And what happened?
It broke the window in the buffet car.
this and they'll close this down.
What's all this about the bus? I thought our bus was in for repair.
It is. So?
So we had to go on the local bus, but the driver wouldn't let us on.
So Diana beat him up and threw him in a ditch.
fight with Mr. Kwok, the chef, in pulp.
Bad for Bayview.
Come on, Antonio, grab a hand.
Oh, oh.
Oh,
thanks.
You're going to have to get a bigger car, Sarah. My aunt would kill me.
You know Diana loves stealing this car.
Think so. Mind you, I haven't heard her yelling for a while, so she might be
having a kip.
I think I'm the breather.
I don't know how this breeding business caught on.
Is Idiot Baines around?
My goodness me.
What are you nipping?
Baby booties.
What for?
A giraffe with rickets?
I can't do heels and I can't cast off.
Let's face it, I can't knit. I've been sweating over those for four weeks now.
To hell with them.
You're not really doting great art material, are you? No, I'll probably
until it's a teenager and take it to all the bars and teach it to street fight.
A nice home county's upbringing.
What with the bus driver and that... cock -eyed little chemist woman that
start carving notches on your bedhead.
You need a noodle up your nose.
I do understand, you know.
Understand what?
You. Me? You understand me?
You don't even know who I am. You've been calling me Bette Davis for the last
three days.
With your nasal... Since the hospital let you think you were dying, you have
been behaving like a vicious old shrew.
Really? Yes.
While most people who cheat death will go around smiling and being nice to
snails and things...
You have been going around belting people.
I'm just settling a few scores.
You can't belt them once you've snuffed it.
You could manage it.
My God, what's that great fat thing rolling up the hill?
It's the lovely Sarah.
She's bigger than a zeppelin.
Hello, Auntie. Don't call me Auntie.
What are you doing flopping around like a beached whale?
A green piece will come along in a minute and drag you out to sea.
Get her a glass of water.
Oh, do stop fussing. I'm only pregnant.
But you're about 15 months gone.
What are you trying to do, drop your sprog on my carpet?
Tom, do tell her to shut up. Diana, shut up. All right. I'm calm. I'm sorry.
What are you doing here?
I've come to stay.
I've had a word with the idiot Baines. I'm taking the guest room.
Why? So I can have my baby down here, close to my family.
What family?
You. You, Diana, you happen to be the only family I've got left.
Oh, you poor little thing.
What on earth is this? You'll give that back.
Go on, Diana, tell her what it is.
I dare you.
It's a donkey's willy warmer.
Here you go.
Where's Sarah, then?
Checking out the local maternity set -up. Oh, is she having natural
What's the alternative?
Unnatural childbirth?
A pejoral of induction season, you know.
Never having gone through the undignified fandugal myself, I've no
goes on.
That lot of help you'll be.
What does she mean, help?
Nothing to do with me.
Why do you think Sarah has come down here?
I don't know.
She wants someone to hold her hand, poor little mite.
Well, fine, I'll do it. I'll be right here.
Here is not much good. She wants you there at the time.
Hi, babe.
I'm Baz Magpies, the local sex machine.
I wonder if you'd like to... Oh, you already have.
Nice to meet you.
Hello, Sarah.
How did it go?
Oh, fine.
Well, they have everything down here.
What everything?
Well, birthing methods.
They even have underwater facilities.
What? Well, so you can have your baby underwater.
Well, won't it drown?
Oh, you're so ignorant, Diana.
They give them snorkels.
And they do the Lamar's method.
Hey, Lamar, is that?
Oh, I had a fling with her once.
Didn't know she was a birth expert.
No, it means you have your baby in a quiet, darkened room with soft music on
sofa. That does wonders for the old Sanderson Prince.
Do they have the bat method?
What's that?
You hang by the feet from the roof of a cave.
and hope the thing can fly before it hits the floor.
Eat your jelly, Tom.
Now, I've been doing some natural childbirth classes, you know, special
breathing and all that, so I've signed up to a local class this afternoon.
Ah.
Yes, so you know what to do in the delivery room.
Diana?
Delivery room?
Well, where else do you expect me to have it?
What? Where you... you actually... me?
Come on. Outside.
Come on. Tom.
Yes, now listen, Diana. Get out of my way.
Listen to me, Tom. Out of the way.
They want their bus back.
I can't. I just can't. Why not?
I just can't.
Squeamish, that's what it is. It's all right if you like. I'm squeamish.
Diana, you were a war photographer.
You'd be more blood and gore than God knows who.
I'm just...
Right.
Goodness me, look at the time.
I must get the old wooden horse out beside the barbed wire fence.
See you in Blighty.
Dickie, Johnny, tumbling time.
Diana, sit down.
Now, what is it?
Oh, I don't know.
I just can't. Yes, right.
OK.
It doesn't matter.
I never had any children.
You never wanted any.
You always said you weren't the mumsy type.
Yes. Yes.
That's what I said.
That's what I shouted from the rooftops.
I shouted so loud, I almost came to believe it myself.
I was lying.
I couldn't have children.
Something knotted or twisted inside me in more ways than one, probably. Diana.
It doesn't matter.
It doesn't mean that I'm unfulfilled as a woman or anything so cretinously
claptrappy.
Far from it.
It's just... Oh, I don't know. Some primeval echo calling down the old
chromosome tunnel.
Don't meet your barren waists face to face.
Since mum died, I've always looked to you, you know.
Have you really?
Yes.
And you shouldn't have.
Your mother was an orchid.
She was rare, wonderful.
She was a good person.
I'm not a good person.
I'm a crabby old cactus.
And I cannot.
Take her place.
You really do live in mortal fear of being loved, don't you? Oh, for God's
shut up.
Diana, my mother isn't here.
My husband isn't here.
I'm scared.
I do sort of need you.
Christ. So now we are in the transition stage.
We are trying not to push. We are clenching the floor of the womb.
We are asking how far we are dilated and calming ourselves for the next phase.
All right.
Now here comes the next contraction. And these are the biggies. Right into the
breathing.
Then big blow.
And here it comes. And we push.
Fine, fine.
Just what I need. Spend the afternoon with some porpoises rolling around on
classroom floor.
Great fun.
It's only a rehearsal, Diane.
I nearly died.
Oh, look, I'm no good at this.
You're asking too much. I want out.
Oh, really?
Yes.
Well, I'd be no good to you in the delivery room. Some twisted old crone
throwing up in a corner.
I thought it would be even good.
Flush out a few old devils.
No, thank you.
They're the only friends I have nowadays.
Carefully nurtured paranoia is all that keeps some of us going.
Where are you off to?
Well, you're not going to be any good to me.
Self -pitying old misery guts.
No, I'll go and ask Tom.
See if he'll stand by me.
Don't be ridiculous.
You're going to have a baby and not go to the Mad Hatter's tea party.
Wait!
Dad?
Hello, Dad?
He's away.
Jane? He's usually back by now.
Maybe there's been a collapse in the tunnel.
What tunnel?
A coldie.
Under the outer fence.
It's always tricky when it's been raining.
What is she talking about?
Tuesdays, Dickie Attenborough, Johnny Mills and Tom tunnel out a coldie. Oh.
Maybe we should pull him out. Good idea, Jane. Jeffrey, you check the guards.
Come on, Jane, you take one foot each. Come on, that's it. Now, easy does it.
Easy. Oi!
What the heck do you think you're doing?
We're pulling you out of the mud, Tom. At Colditz, the tunnel's collapsed.
What are they talking about?
I haven't a clue, Dad. I'm not even sure if I'm really here.
You're all crackers.
Colditz, indeed.
I thought it sounded a bit much. I escaped months ago.
I've just been waiting in France for the RA. They have to drop me another pair
of tin legs.
Let go of my feet!
If only the bottom hadn't dropped out of double glazing.
Can we get on with this, please?
Apparently you've stolen a bus, Dad.
Have I?
Yesterday you dropped us off here and then you said you were taking it back to
the depot. And you obviously didn't, so where is it? Ah!
Someone's trying to frame me.
Come on, Geoffrey, we must find him.
Like the Mounties, we must get our man.
I'll be Nelson, Eddie.
You could be Jeanette MacDonald.
I'm looking up for life. My life.
I'll be calling you.
Where am I?
What are we doing here, Dan?
What are we doing here? Well, I'm not sure, Geoffrey.
Some may think we are a sublime figment of a whimsical god's imagination.
Others are of the opinion that if you...
Look upon the universe as a huge fish shop. We are but a speck of salt on a
discarded chip.
I meant, why are we watching that house?
Ah, all is to be revealed. Look.
See, there is Ron Arthur, the world's most condescending and callous bus
Follow that bike.
What is the point of all this, Dad?
Well, one school of opinion states that there isn't a point in anything at all
and that we are just a random collection of chance events.
On the other hand, put your foot down, Geoffrey.
All over.
He's going into that yard.
Do we keep following? No. I think we've found our rainbow's end. Come on.
Dad, this is a real waste of time.
Come on, Geoffrey.
Up you go.
What do you see?
A Bournemouth Corporation bus.
Dastardly swine. I took the bus back to him and he said he'd return it to the
depot. But he hid it so that I'd get the blame and he could get his own back on
us all.
Dad, my fingers are breaking.
Oh, look, Battle. There's an emu in the bushes.
Where?
Good movie.
Excellent.
I'm a bit worried about your eyesight, though.
Why? Well, up to now, you've seen an emu, a rhinoceros, and a pair of rutting
armadillo.
But you didn't see this.
Checkmate.
You can't do that.
And why not?
Because I was cheating. If I hadn't cheated, you wouldn't have won.
you really do breach the boundaries of acceptable eccentricity.
What is the matter with you? Oh, I don't know.
What's on your mind?
Babies. Breeding.
The whole concept of the continuation of the species in this ghastly,
godforsaken, dismal, rotten, manky world.
Well, I wouldn't worry about it. Breeding -wise, I think you've left your
bit late.
And have I missed out? I mean, would I have been different if I had managed the
old squat down in a paddy field and spit out a sprung bit?
Rest assured, Diana, if you'd had ten children, I'm sure you would have
to be just as awful as you are.
Thank you, Basil.
But I won't be comforted. I mean, look at all the people who managed to breathe
so copiously.
Disc jockeys, estate agents, the Welsh.
James could manage it if you gave him an instruction manual and pointed him in
the right direction.
Someone like me, a woman of wisdom, experience, a great left hook.
I didn't manage it. I didn't qualify for the most inexclusive club in the world.
I know what to cheer you up.
Why don't you and I pop off to some sleazy motel and really make the
curl?
Mr. Basil, when I want to coagulate with a terrapin, I'll let you know.
She's having it. Who's having what? Sarah's having the baby.
Oh, my God. Danik, come on, everybody. Danik.
Danik.
Danik, Basil.
What are you doing?
Having a contraction.
I'll get a car. Oh, no, it's too small.
Well, where's the bus?
Oh, don't answer that.
Where's the beans?
of taking this straight back, Dad.
I don't want to waste a journey. I told the pitch club, Bob.
This isn't the Prince Club.
Get back.
You get back.
I'll dump this lot.
You go and have your baby.
You can't leave me, Tom.
You can manage.
You're a woman.
What's that got to do with anything?
I can't do this, Tom.
I can't.
One, two...
Some oxygen.
Oh, I'm sorry.
Do you want a drag?
Yeah, thanks.
How many more?
Next one should do it.
Bloody better.
I should have had an epidural.
They found the butt, so it looks like you're off the hook.
How's that?
Apparently it was found around the back of the driver's place after an anonymous
tip -off.
Oh, poor fellow.
Won't be bothering us again, then?
No.
Jane.
You're getting very vengeful in your old age. Oh, look, here she comes.
Better than getting soft in your old age. What do you mean by that? Ever
that child was born, you've been caught smiling and being pleasant all over the
place. It's rubbish.
It's all right, Diana.
Everyone's allowed to be human now and again.
Even you.
Shut up.
Hold it right there.
Wait a minute.
Right. Breath.
Give me my towel.
Be gentle.
Right,
you lot.
Now, you may think that I should be falling off my pants. One day soon.
And I'm sure that one day that joyous occasion may come to pass.
But have no fear.
Let me introduce you to my great niece.
The next Diana.
The new Diana.
The Diana of the future. Who will, I trust, carry the torch of stubborn
-mindedness, murder and mayhem well into the next century.
I give you Diana.
Not another one.
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