Original subtitles

Happy birthday to me Happy birthday to me

How in hell did I end up here again?

Ugh.

Fuck off.

My birthday actually began the way of all my birthdays.

Hello, darling. Just ringing to wish you a happy birthday!

Mum? It's 6:00 a.m.

I'm doing the FaceTime.

Una taught me. It's really marvelous!

Mum, the point of FaceTime

is that you haven't got to put the phone to your ear.

Oh! Silly me!

Oh! There you are!

This time, 43 years ago,

I was having a lamb biryani in an attempt to coax you out.

Twenty-three hours of labor. Never been the same down there.

It's a miracle, the gift of childbirth.

Here it comes!

Penny Husband-Bosworth's son sells his sperm on the Internet!

You don't even need a man, Bridget.

Some people have marvelous lives

without them! I mean, look at you.

A nice flat, a lovely job. Nice flat!

I'm putting the phone down now, Mum.

Oh, um... Say happy birthday to Bridget.

Colin!

Happy birthday to Bridget.

Thank you!

I love you, darling. Now don't forget,

I'm counting on you to head up my media campaign.

It's the parish council elections, Mum. Not the US Primaries.

Annual phone call from Mum reminding me

to take my ovaries out of retirement.

The truth was that by now,

I thought I would have had a little baby to love

with the chisel-jawed love of my life.

But sometimes, life gives you shallower compensations.

And at least I was finally down

to my perfect weight.

Buongiorno, Miss Bridget.

There was life in the old dog yet.

Hadn't exactly been put out to grass.

Ding dong.

But this year, all these things

were brought into sharper focus

by an event I hadn't expected to attend quite so soon.

Hi.

So, how are you feeling? Are you okay?

Mmm. Yeah.

Just can't believe he's gone, really.

His death seems to have hit the Eastern European

teenage modeling community particularly hard.

They found the flight recorder, but still no bodies.

Strangely fitting that he should have died going down in the bush.

Shh.

Sorry. Oops.

We are gathered here to celebrate the life

of Daniel Vivian Cleaver.

Daniel was a kind and wonderful son.

Fuck. What the fuck is he doing here?

A loving uncle and brother.

Oh, you know what he's like, wanting to do the decent thing.

Is that his Wife?

Mmm.

Did I ever get over losing Mr. Darcy?

Was he my Mr. Right?

Oh, Christ.

A man of outstanding charm and charisma.

Just a bit emotional.

I would like to invite his loved ones up to share

some of their memories of Daniel.

Daniel could be very sensitive.

Make you feel like you were the only woman in the world.

I first met Daniel in Moscow.

He once took me rowing on the Serpentine and quoted Keats by heart.

He could quote Keats by heart!

"Where be ye going, you Devon Maid?

"And what have ye there in the basket?"

"And what have ye there in the basket?

"Ye tight little fairy just fresh from the dairy,

"Will you give me some cream if I ask it?"

He did it to everyone.

Would anybody else like to say a few words?

Say something for his mum.

Get up, go on.

Um...

Daniel was a man

who touched many of us here today, including me.

Oh, dear.

This is when Daniel would say, "Shut up, Jones."

And he would be right because all I really need to say is, um,

dear Daniel, I will miss you terribly.

We all Will.

- Give you a call? - Yes, very good.

Bye, Bridget. Bye. Bye.

Oh! Bridget.

Mark!

This is Camilla.

Hello.

Bridget. An old friend.

Well, less old, more childhood!

So, nice memorial,

as memorials go.

Almost makes one look forward to one's own.

Yes, well...

Goodbye.

Goodbye!

Maybe that's the reason Mark Darcy and I never made it.

I always felt like a verbally incontinent old maid

even when we were together.

Still, I wasn't going to dwell on the negatives.

At least no one at work knew it was my birthday.

Or, indeed, how old I was going to be.

Surprise!

Happy birthday, Bridget! Gosh!

Or so I thought.

Who told you?

It's so hot. So many candles!

Happy 43rd birthday to you

Happy 43rd birthday to you

Isn't there some sort of statute of limitations

about the number of sodding candles on a cake

once you get to a certain age?

Josh, I need you to see what Reuters

is saying about the attacks on Ramallah.

We might need a live link.

I may have been another year older and still single,

but I could always take consolation

in my job as top news producer.

So, how will I be changing the world today?

Well, our main feature is the exclusive interview

with the Foreign Secretary about NGochi.

OMG. How did you do that?

NGochi. NGochi.

You're good at that! I know.

I've been practicing. NGochi.

NGochi.

NGochi. NGochi.

NGochi? It's harder than you think! NGochi.

Plus, have great new ISO-something work colleagues

who are not obsessed with children and marriage.

How do we plan on celebrating tonight?

Well, night out with the gang.

Please say that involves group sex.

Gang bangs?

Ooh. We like to do that.

I know a smashing little club round the back of Berwick Street.

Chance would be a fine thing.

I'm beginning to think I've passed my sexual sell-by date.

No! There are names for women like you now, Bridge.

You're a cougar. You are a MILF.

I'm not a MILF. I'm not even a mum.

I'm a spinster. I'm a SPILF.

Three minutes till we're on air.

It's called Voyeurz, with a 'Z'.

You tell them that Cathy sent you.

And if you go on a Thursday, there's a Chinese buffet,

all you can eat, as it were.

But whose advice was, nevertheless,

sometimes a tad too modern for me.

- It's me. Checking talkback. - Yep.

You didn't freeze your eggs by any chance, did you?

No. I imagine they're hard-boiled by now.

You know what, Bridge? This weekend,

you and me need to go out and get stuck into some serious...

Binge drinking, a dangerous scourge on society.

Is new legislation needed?

Bridget, Miranda. I've told you, don't talk between the bongs.

Stick to the questions on the cue cards.

Miranda, cue.

The Foreign Secretary will be live in the studio

to talk about the looming crisis in Muribundi.

You could always try online dating again.

The other night I was on Tinder. Half an hour later,

- I'm having a three-way with... - Miranda, cue!

Prince Andrew, the Royal Special Representative for Trade and Investment...

You did that on purpose.

...has just written his first children's book.

He had a massive cock.

Live in the studio, I'm joined by Foreign Secretary, George Wilkins,

who has just returned from war-ravaged Muribundi...

Miranda, I'm in your ear. Just follow my lead.

...where the assassination of bloody dictator, Charles NGoohi,

has resulted in civil war. One take.

Come back to four. Four.

Minister, was this a military coup?

Well, the signs are that NGochi's own generals

did take him out in a rather bloody way.

Hi, Tom. Can't talk.

How was Daniel's memorial?

It's just sad. I can't believe he's gone, actually.

It's just sad. I can't believe he's gone actually.

Uh...

I don't think there was any particular sadness in his passing.

His persecution of the Unbutu people amounted to genocide.

That is well documented.

I know he had his faults.

Well, I know he had his faults.

He could be a massive arsehole.

He could be a massive arsehole.

But I miss him. We all do.

But I miss him. We all do.

Well, he was certainly a very colorful character

on the world stage, Miranda.

I grant you that.

But I think the genocide resulting in

the deaths of over 10,000 of his own people,

men, women and children,

probably did rather put him on the wrong side of history.

At least he was never boring.

Well, at least he was never boring.

One, two and three. Clear.

Do you think a spirit of democracy

can carry over into West Africa

now NGochi's dead?

Do you think, Minister, that the spirit of democracy

can carry over into West Africa now that NGochi is dead?

Now that is an interesting question. Finally.

Running out of time here. Miranda, wrap it up!

Briefly, please, Minister.

It is a complicated issue. Yes or a no?

Miranda, make it the last answer.

Let's hope so.

I'll take that. Thank you for joining us on the sofa today.

Stand by. Toby on one. Over to you, Toby.

And now, what if a man was to experience labor?

Well, thank you, Miranda, Bridget.

You couldn't just behave yourselves

when the new management team were here?

They're the new management team?

That is Alice Peabody, new Brand Manager.

Apparently, Hard News is too old-fashioned, too serious,

and she is the smiling assassin

brought in to sack anybody older than her.

Everybody's older than her.

I've got tins of soup in my cupboard older than her.

Look at them all.

With their apps, and their ironic beards.

Maybe one of them could give Bridget some sex.

What?

Does Brid... Do you need sex?

Yes! No!

Which is why I'm taking her on a girls' weekend

to beat all girls' weekends.

Bridget, isn't it?

Yes. Nice to meet...

Team meeting tomorrow morning. We can do introductions then.

9:00 a.m.

We should all start an hour earlier from now on.

You think she saw that?

Uh, quite possibly not.

And you're sure you don't wanna come out with me and my crew?

Mmm-hmm.

Thanks, but can't let the old gang down.

They're stay-at-home mums now. They'd be disappointed.

Ooh.

Hmm.

Huh.

Thank God for the gays!

Now whatever fears you're bringing in the room with you today,

I want you to take those fears

and I want you to tell them to fuck the fuck off!

Yeah!

Are you ready for this? Are you ready for this?

Then ride, you sexy bitches. Ride!

Ride!

Look, I'm so sorry, Bridget,

but I'm actually gonna have to blow you out, too.

Oh!

I didn't wanna have to tell you this today,

but Eduardo and I are adopting.

What, a baby?

Yes. A baby.

Or gayby, in our case.

That's fantastic news!

Tom!

Yeah. I'm going to Bogoté tomorrow

to start the paperwork, so I've gotta go and pack.

Wonderful! Go!

Happy birthday. Have fun.

Congratulations!

Thanks, darling. Bye.

Fucking excellent.

And that was how I wound up back here again.

The last barren husk in London.

And of the two loves of my life,

one is married, and the other is dead.

Right. New birthday resolutions.

I, Bridget Jones, am done with affairs of the heart

and dedicating my autumn years to the pursuit of hedonism.

Will hang only with new, free-spirited friends like Miranda.

And when the going gets tough,

the tough go on a luxury spa weekend!

What the fuck?

Love the shoes.

I didn't tell you because you wouldn't have come!

Seriously, it's been five years.

You gotta shake yourself out of this

self-imposed purdah you've been in

ever since you split up with your precious Mark Darcy.

Rubbish. I barely think of him.

What you need is a good shafting.

You need some good old-fashioned,

lie-back-and-think-of-England bonking.

And festivals are sexual free-for-alls.

Like Sodom and Gomorrah, with tofu.

First man you meet, you gotta sleep with.

First man?

I'm not taking no for an answer.

I'm gonna find our backstage passes.

You get the maps.

Wanna know where you are?

Maps!

I may be old and inappropriately dressed,

but at least I look fucking amazing!

Oh.

That's exactly why I didn't wear my heels.

Ding fucking dong!

May I?

Uh...

Ah.

Um... Uh...

Ooh.

Thank you.

On!

Ah. There you go.

It fits.

MIRANDA; Bridget!

Bridget!

Is that your wicked stepmother?

Yes.

I'd better go before she has me sweeping fireplaces all day.

Thank you. You're welcome.

Ah-ha. Birthday resolution number two.

Must remember the way to a man's heart

is not through beauty, sex or love...

It's Jack.

...but merely the ability to fall arse over tit in the mud.

By the way.

Right.

Which one's ours?

Uh, let's try up here.

And anyway, it's not camping. It's glamping.

Putting a "GL" in front of it doesn't make it any better.

Calling him Gladolf Hitler

wouldn't suddenly make you forget all the unpleasantness.

Oh. Fuck me!

NGochi!

NGochi!

NGcohi!

It's 2:30 in the afternoon!

I should be hoovering!

This is incredible!

We've got to get a photo!

Excuse me?

Do you mind if we ask you to take a photo of us?

- Yeah. Sure. - Thank you.

All right. You ready? Hey, what are you doing?

I was taking a photo. I thought you guys wanted a photo.

Yeah, we do. Of us.

Yes. Terribly sorry,

but we thought it would be really fun to get a photo of us backstage

among all these glamorous people.

I think that's the guy from Bargain Hunt.

It would be great if you could get him in the shot.

Quick, quick, quick!

So, you don't want me in the photo at all?

Oh, God. You can lose the attitude, babes.

Is it really that difficult?

God. They let any old riff-raff backstage nowadays.

I don't know. I thought he was kind of cute.

But he looks familiar.

I think he works at the Starbucks in Balham!

Here we go!

One, two, three, sing!

Oh, my God!

I know!

It's the guy from Starbucks!

Crowd-surf! Whoo!

Miranda!

Miranda!

Miranda?

Shit.

Hey, Miranda.

Oh, God!

I have to admit that was fun.

And you're right.

What I need is a good shafting.

Some good old-fashioned lie-back-and-think-of-England

bonking.

Well, sign me up.

Oh, my God!

What are you doing in my yurt?

With all your clothes and luggage and possessions.

Yeah. It's as if I've come in, made it my own.

Wait, it's you.

The creature from the Black Lagoon.

Oh. Yes. Sorry.

Well, you don't really expect me to believe

that you accidentally crashed into my yurt, do you?

Oh!

Since you're here, maybe I could help you.

Well, he is the first man I met.

And his yurt is one heck of a lot nicer than mine.

Bridget!

Where the fuck are you?

Bridget!

I'm so pissed!

MIRANDA; Bridget!

I'm zorbing with Ed Sheeran!

Oh, God! I've just slept with a complete stranger!

I'm nothing but a feckless prostitute.

No, no. I'm an elegant older woman

taking men for my own pleasure.

Or am I just a deluded, middle-aged fool?

Fuck it!

Miranda.

Good morning.

So, it lasted six hours?

What lasted six hours, Mum?

Um, a puppet show that Auntie Bridge went to.

Six-hour puppet show?

Hello.

So, tell me, were they little puppets or...

Very nice-sized puppets.

And did he put his puppet in your mouth?

God! I feel like my days of puppet shows are behind me.

I've had finger puppets.

And has he called?

Well, it doesn't work like that anymore.

You just hook up with rugged troubadours at music festivals

and there are no strings.

Puppets with no strings.

Take the wings off. They're for little girls. Come on.

Hello? Where the fuck are you?

Speeding through lovely countryside

on our way to your christening.

No, we're not. Why is Auntie Bridget lying?

Shh. Shh.

Bridge, I thought you should know after Tom dropped out,

Giles asked Mark to be the godfather.

What? He did what?

Yes, I know. He really is a useless cock.

Did it without asking me.

Oh, my God!

Mark Darcy again.

Twice in the space of a week, I turn up at church as rent-a-spinster.

Where the fuck were you?

Sorry. Sorry.

Sorry.

Good morning, and welcome.

Well, this isn't embarrassing at all.

Mark Darcy and I at the altar with a baby.

That's lovely.

Okay, now. Nice big smiles. Looking at me.

Thank you. Lovely!

Okay. Can I just get the godparents now, please?

So, how are you?

Very well, thank you. How are you?

Well. Thank you. Mmm.

Are you here with your wife? I can't remember her name.

Camilla. No, she, uh... No, she couldn't make it. Ah. Mmm.

You with anyone?

No, no. Not today. No.

Come on. It's not a funeral.

Can I get a couple of smiles out of you two, please?

Maybe give her a little kiss? You know, on the forehead there.

Uh... I was talking about the baby.

Lovely!

All right.

I'll see you later, I shouldn't wonder.

Yeah.

Unless I make a break for it with this thing.

Could this day actually get any more awkward?

Just keep walking, keep walking, keep walking, keep walking!

Hello.

Hello.

How are you?

Very well, thanks. How are you?

I'm fine.

So am l.

Well, goodbye.

Goodbye.

A glass of wine. A whiskey, please.

Big. Big glass. Double.

Thank you.

I'd ask you to join me, but I'm pretty sure

you're not a big Gangnam Style kind of guy.

I was only there very briefly.

Where?

Gangnam.

What are we talking about?

Gangnam. Dancing.

Ah!

Not the suburb of Seoul.

No.

Not familiar with Gangnam, the suburb.

It literally means "South of the Han River."

It was inhabited as early as the Paleolithic Period.

Suddenly seems so much less catchy!

Now something for you lovers out there.

We're entering "the erection section."

Don't say fucking "erection" at a christening!

Oh.

Would you like to get some air?

I mean, some more air.

Sure.

I don't suppose you happen to have a cigarette?

No.

Gave up 1,891 days ago.

Not that you're counting.

Since when did you smoke?

I don't. It's been a tense time.

Maybe I'm nervous.

Why?

You have a train in your hair.

I'm aware of that.

Courtesy of one of my many godchildren.

Seems to be stuck.

And this would be...

Cake?

Profiterole.

It's technically more of a dessert than a cake, I suppose.

What are you doing? You're married.

No, I'm not.

I mean, I am. I'm getting a divorce.

That's why she's not here.

Weren't you together at the memorial?

No. She was just being supportive.

She's gone back to The Hague, where she's now living and I'm not.

Oh, I'm so sorry, Mark.

Right at this precise moment, I'm not sorry at all.

How the fuck am I supposed to get in here?

Again?

Mr. Darcy.

Wow.

Bridget.

Mmm-hmm?

God, I've missed you.

Are we on schedule?

I have a flight to Khartoum tomorrow.

I'm so sorry, Mark. Had to leave.

Probably sounds pathetic, but I got scared.

The fact that we went round and round for the best part of 10 years

without ever making it across the finish line leads me to think

we did the best thing by ending it when we did.

Sometimes it feels scary still being on my own at 43,

but you and I have been here once before.

We always loved the fantasy of us,

but the reality, as we both know,

is quite different.

Ta-da!

We could both come up with 100 reasons why we didn't make it.

But in the end...

I always felt that you were never there and I was mostly alone.

No, can't go back and keep making same mistakes.

Must keep moving forward and make new ones.

And will launch myself into frenzied keep-fit regime.

Am allowing four weeks to reduce thigh circumference

in order to squeeze lardy arse into teenage skinny jeans.

Obviously not meant for women of a certain age.

All this bloody cycling is pointless. I'm putting on weight.

Let's rule out some of the other options, shall we?

You're not pregnant, are you?

Of course not.

A lady is always prepared.

And I always carry these in my handbag.

Oh, God! You didn't use those?

The vegan condoms?

"Biodegradable and dolphin-friendly."

If I'm going to be slutty, it's nice to think I'm helping the environment.

Christ.

Bridget, I remember when you bought those!

That was decades ago!

Sell-by dates don't mean anything.

Do they?

They were a gift.

Don't ask.

Tumbling rapids,

frothing waterfalls,

a babbling brook!

Oh, come the fuck on, Bridget.

How long do you think it takes?

I think that's a positive result.

I'll just make sure.

Oh, don't shake it. You'll hurt the baby!

The baby's not in the stick, Bridget.

I think this is when you're meant to jump for joy.

Oh, my God.

Oh, my God. You're pregnant.

I'm pregnant?

You're pregnant.

I'm pregnant.

You're going to have a baby.

I'm going to have a baby.

I'm going to have a baby.

Yeah.

If you've got footage of her punching a horse, I want it.

Bridget, do you want a baby?

I don't know.

I mean, I'm 43.

It might be the only chance I'm going to get.

Look, one broken, out-of-date condom

I might have believed was an accident.

But two?

You wanted it.

Maybe I did.

Ooh.

Can we get a medic, please?

Oh, my God! I'm pregnant!

This is it!

More to the point, whose is it?

This is not how I thought this moment would be.

Always imagined myself in OK! magazine with the man of my dreams.

Oh, Christ. Too many dilemmas to ponder.

Not least of all, who was that man I shagged in a tent?

And so, your age will be 43?

Mmm.

Huh.

So, um, which of the times with my wonderful man

do you think we got pregnant on?

Does it matter?

Well, yes. It's such a special moment.

We'd like to know which one it is, so we can treasure it.

Can't you treasure both of them?

Oh. Yes. We will.

I mean, we do,

but surely one of those dates is more likely than the other?

Uh, well, actually, day 10, which was his birthday, is a little early.

And day 16, which was the...

Anniversary dinner.

Ah, yes. The osso buco, I recall, is a little late.

Are you sure there wasn't another treasurable occasion in between?

Yes, I'm quite sure. He was away.

So, which of the two would you go for?

Couldn't say. They're both equally likely.

It could've been after the events because as you know

sperm can live for several days after ejaculation.

No. Couldn't you just have a guess for me?

What about the first scan?

Would that show when conception took place?

No. Ring this number to fix a date.

And do bring along the father if you can work out which one he is.

Right.

Right. Um...

Just out of interest...

Mmm?

If someone did have an element of confusion about the father...

Well, you can get a DNA sample at the amniocentesis.

And I do recommend that you have the amniocentesis

because there are always more risks with a geriatric mother.

"Geriatric"?

Mmm. That's outrageous.

Indeed.

Unless you can sign on for your child support

and pension at the same time.

That's hilarious.

It's called "news" 'cause it should feel new.

Otherwise, it would be called "olds."

Sorry.

Last night, top stories.

Earthquake in Asia.

Seen it before.

Car crash on the M5, blah, blah, blah.

We are making olds.

We need to flip the switch, mix it up.

I want to NutriBullet the shit out of the news.

She's on the Warpath. Susan the Floor Manager's gone.

She's six months pregnant.

We've got to grab the attention!

Get the eyes on the screen!

I want to see headlines like "ls your sofa bed giving you cancer?"

"ls your freezer giving you Alzheimer's?"

Oh, my God. Are they?

Literally no evidence whatsoever, but you're missing the point.

You're intrigued, aren't you?

I want to re-launch Hard News with a clear new objective.

We have a presentation in 12 weeks at the London Media Show,

and I am looking for someone dynamic, innovative, focused,

to lead the charge. Any volunteers?

Whatever happens now, must hold on to job.

Must prove to fascist boss that I may be single mother,

but am willing to roll with the ironic-bearded hipsters.

Anybody at all?

Do you need the loo, Bridget?

No. I want to volunteer.

♪ Let's do this.

It's me, it's me. Turn on your TV now.

Look at your TV. Now! Now! Now!

Turn on Channel 4.

Bridget, I found him! He's the dating website guru!

See, you have to trust the science.

Algorithms don't lie.

You only slept with a fucking billionaire!

So, tell us, Bridget, um,

what was it that initially attracted you

to the billionaire, Jack Quant?

Was it his face or his body?

Yeah. Well, I'd do him, obviously.

Big dick?

If I were you, I wouldn't tell either of them.

All you need's a DNA sample from one of them.

And then you can eliminate the other one from your enquiries.

What would I say to Mark?

"Hello, Mark. I know I just left you asleep,

"but I don't suppose you've got any blood,

"sperm, or old fingernails lying around?"

But how would you even get in touch with Jack?

Yeah.

He is a bloody mogul. Can't just ring him up.

Oh!

May have just worked out how to win favor with new boss

and eliminate one father from my enquiries.

I have to say, Bridget.

I'm actually excited about this next guest.

Relevant, relatable,

extremely fuckable. Good work.

Welcome to CSI Hard News.

One minute left on the VT now. Out on Simon.

Bring in next five, stand by. Thank you.

Thank you, my love. If you could just fuck off,

that would be great.

Jack, this is Cathy. She'll get you ready.

- Hi, Cathy. - Jack.

Nice to meet you. I was just thinking

like a simple magenta eye-shadow.

Make your eyes pop, and little bit of rouge, maybe?

Kidding.

You're funny.

Yeah, but you do happen to have

a little stray gray hair there.

There we are. Ah! Jesus.

That's it.

Actually, there's a whole gray patch up there. Shall I just...

Yeah. Let me see. Let's just get in there.

Yeah, my hair is full of gray hair.

That's it. I've sorted it.

Okay.

Jesus Christ. Okay.

All gone. Yeah, that's lovely. Oh.

These fingernails on this silver fox

could do with a bit of a trim, couldn't they?

These hands haven't experienced much manual labor, have they?

No. I'm a mathematician.

They're silky soft.

Tell me, Jack.

Do you happen to like Chinese food?

Jack. Let me take you to set.

Great. Thank you.

I do, sometimes. Yes. Thank you.

I don't think she put any makeup on me.

It's fine. You look radiant.

Okay. Coming out of VT in five, four... And remember the gear shift.

And Miranda, cue.

But now, though, I'm joined by Jack Quant.

Raised by a single mother in Baltimore,

he created the matchmaking website, Qwantify,

and he claims to have found an algorithm for love.

And he's here today to tell us all about his number one best-seller

Qwantum Leap.

It is absolutely wonderful to have you on our sofa today.

Thank you. It's great to be here.

Now, we'll talk all about your new book soon.

Obviously. Yes.

But first, let's talk about romance.

Qwantify has found true love for millions. Mmm.

Coming to two. Has it worked for you?

Now if I answer that, can we go back and talk about the book?

Maybe.

Can you please try not to shag him on air.

This is dynamite. Tell her to flirt with him more.

Some people had their first crush on Farrah Fawcett.

My first crush was an algorithm.

And we've lost them! If he carries on talking about algorithms,

I'm cutting to the VT of cats who look like Hitler.

Back to four. Love it. Thank you.

He's avoiding the question! Get him off maths.

Ask him if he's with someone now.

For someone so good at matchmaking,

is there a special someone in your life?

Apart from Lady Mary on Downton Abbey?

Now, can we go ahead and talk about the book?

Cue Hitler cats!

Don't be evasive.

Oh, don't be evasive.

Uh, it's apparent you have everything.

Why have you chosen to have no family...

Why the decision to have no family and...

No children?

And no children?

Brilliant. Zoom in on four.

Go on four. Love it.

Look, I love kids.

But I've always found the idea of being a father

myself kind of petrifying.

Which is why I've been drawn to algorithms.

Cue Hitler cats!

They're rational, reliable, predictable.

Everything a kid isn't.

So, can you have children?

And can you have children, though? I mean...

Are the soldiers working?

Are the soldiers working?

What?

Well, I believe so.

The barracks are in pretty regular use.

Really? Really?

Yes.

Because for someone with a supposed algorithm for love...

Isn't it odd that you've never found it?

Well, I think in order to find something,

you have to be actively looking for it.

I've just been too busy, so I haven't.

What about the Quant family bloodline?

And what about the Quant family bloodline?

Are there any skeletons in the closet?

Sexual deviants?

Sexual deviants?

I'm sorry. I don't know where we're going with all of this,

but I have to tell you, I can attract the wrong type of women.

That's really great. Thanks for sharing that with us.

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Bridget, what are you doing?

You wouldn't believe some of the weirdos that cross my path.

Really?

Get up! Fuck, fuck.

Can you tell me what she's doing?

Ask him something about algorithms.

This has to be the last question. Has to be.

Lastly, algorithms.

Yes. What first attracted you to them?

The logic, and... Wonderful.

Jack Quant, thank you for coming on my sofa.

I hope you've had as much fun as I have.

Jesus.

That's it from me. Goodbye.

That was great.

You look really familiar, outside of being on the show.

Are you on Tinder?

What?

Then we won't have met. No. Okay.

Well, hey! How about seeing you here.

Hi. Great to see you.

Great to see you, too.

I was going to come and find you to say hello,

but you know how live TV can be so chaotic!

Well, you know there are easier ways of getting in touch with me

than inviting me on national TV and asking me about my sperm.

No. That's not what... No.

I would have liked to have heard from you.

I was disappointed when I came back that morning and you'd gone.

You were?

We had an amazing night.

And I thought you were great.

At least I did until I became a clip

of the 50 most embarrassing chat show moments of all time.

Really sorry about that. Yes, that, um...

I don't know how to, uh, explain. Um...

I'm pregnant.

Wow. Okay.

That's so much better than you being mentally unbalanced.

I'm about 12 weeks.

Oh. Right. Wow.

So, you mean it's the music festival.

Yes.

I know, it's quite a surprise!

Yes. Um...

But, um...

I'm fine.

And you should know that I don't... I'm not...

I'm not looking for anything from you.

Well, except for a complete DNA check

and review of my medical records.

Well, the thing is that I didn't mean

for you to find out about this yet.

And I'm feeling, um, a bit foolish right now.

Mortified, actually. Yes. I'm mortified.

And, um, I'd like to just retreat gracefully.

Mr. Quant, will you sign my book?

Um... Please.

Oh, God.

I didn't even tell him he may not be the only daddy.

I love this book.

Hey, Katie Couric! I need to talk to you!

What if this DNA turns out to be Jack's?

Do I want the father to be Jack?

I don't even know Jack.

And what if it's Mark Darcy's?

Christ. I'll have to confess to him

I've been a whore with dolphin condoms.

Good.

So, the baby's okay?

Perfect.

See?

Oh, my God. Is that it?

Mmm-hmm.

And it's all right?

Sound as a bell. Cooking nicely.

Have a listen.

There you are. I've recorded that for you.

You can watch that for a moment.

So glad you've decided on the amniocentesis.

Hello, you.

Is that your ear or your foot?

You have got very big feet.

Oh, and look at you, waving already.

Hi.

You're the best thing I've ever seen.

I promise I'll try my best.

So, you just stay safe and snug in there

while I try and sort the mess out here.

And hopefully...

What the fuck is that?

Um, it's the amniocentesis needle.

We just pop it in, take a little amniotic fluid, test it for any abnormalities,

and also the DNA sample that you require.

Now, there is the slightest risk of miscarriage.

So, you'll have to stay very still indeed because

we don't want the needle to come into contact...

What? No, no.

I'm not taking that chance. And it's enormous.

It'd go straight through the other side.

Come on, I'm taking you home.

Your mother will be over the moon.

Will you promise not to tell her? Just not yet.

No, no. Of course. No, no. I promise.

Really sorry, Dad.

Not to know about the father.

Don't be daft.

I know dozens of people who could have been anybody's.

So, you're not disappointed?

You don't think I belong on Jerry Springer?

Not a bit. I'm thrilled.

Actually, I'm not sure if you're mine,

or that nice Lieutenant Colonel's who ran the bowls club.

Hmm.

Only joking. You've got my feet.

I've always had very dainty feet.

Just tell the truth, Bridget.

Can't go too far wrong telling the truth.

"Mark, I have some exciting news. "

"Mark, I have the funniest story to tell you."

"Mark, I'm up the duff."

My Lords, my Ladies.

There is only one fraud committed here today and it is this.

To use the laws of one country to destroy the freedom of speech of another.

A cynical political expedient to take away

the right of these brave young women

to speak the truth about the country they love.

Now you may not like their music.

And for that, I cannot blame you.

They may not have mastered the fundamentals of melody,

or even the most basic tenets of musicianship.

But this is the land of Shakespeare, Orwell, Lawrence.

Oh. I'd forgotten just how hot he is in that wig and gown.

...to any country,

any ruler, any despot, that here, in the United Kingdom,

we will always defend and protect women such as these

who have selflessly and courageously risked their liberty

and quite possibly their lives

to tell the truth.

The court will now adjourn and judgment will be given in due course.

Poonani! Poonani! Power to the Poonani!

Poonani!

Christ. I'm looking forward to going back

to some good old-fashioned genocide.

Silence! Silence!

Right. How to do this?

I wasn't expecting to see you again

after the events at the christening.

Crap. He's dived right in.

No. Right. I understand.

Okay. Maybe flattery will work.

You were very impressive in there today.

Thank you.

Although dealing with them over the last month

has given me a certain amount of sympathy for the totalitarian dictator

who wants to silence them.

Okay. Jokes. Will laugh harder next time.

There's only a certain number of times one can listen

to the resolutely un-catchy Menstruation, Castration, Liberation.

Mark.

That's hilariously funny.

Please.

So...

So, Mark.

Yes.

The gardens look lovely.

Autumnal.

Yes.

Is that a conker tree?

Bridget.

I...

Am pregnant.

Right.

Congratulations.

How can I help?

I'm three months pregnant.

Oh.

You mean the christening?

Right.

Would you excuse me for just a moment?

Mmm.

I think that this is quite possibly

the most wonderful piece of information

I have ever received in my entire life.

Oh!

Okay.

Of course, I've got no expectations

for how things should work out.

I just thought you should know.

No, of course.

I mean, how do you feel? Are you happy?

Yes, lam.

But so much has happened in the past 10 years.

A lot has changed. I mean, you've been married,

and I've been on a number of long-haul holidays.

But, um...

So here goes on Jack.

And, I mean... No, I know that.

It's just, right now, I can't quite

bring myself to feel gloomy about it.

How can I tell him now?

State of emergency, cannot sleep.

Looping thoughts going round and round in head.

It's surely weird that you can do something as complicated and important

as growing a baby or invading Iraq

without any instruction at all.

Keep thinking all the alcohol I've drunk over the years

will give the baby fetal alcohol syndrome.

These are the things I could do.

Tell Mark about Jack,

but risk hurting him so badly, I couldn't live with myself.

Not tell Mark about Jack?

But I'd never be able to go through with it.

Tell both of them the other one is the father,

and then if the one who isn't the father is upset about it...

Oh, Christ. Tell no one and make a run for it.

Hello?

Hey! It's the father of your child.

Jack?

Yeah. Who else?

Come up.

Okay-

Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck.

He's probably employed a team of Google Earth detectives to find me.

Okay. Just act naturally.

Hi.

Hi.

Come in.

Okay.

You found it.

Try it on. See if it fits.

Wow.

I didn't expect to see you.

I wasn't expecting to come. I'm not used to being rejected.

Twice.

I hope you've got cake in that bag.

I've been doing a lot of thinking.

Bridget, this whole baby situation threw me initially.

We squashed an entire relationship into one night

and skipped straight to starting-the-family phase.

We never even had a real second date.

Just so you know, if we did,

I would have taken you to Ottolenghi. Oh.

You would have had the grilled salmon and pine-nut salsa.

Unbelievable and healthy. Oh.

And we would have come back here, had incredible sex,

spent the next couple days sending each other filthy texts.

I would not have let you do that on a second date.

Why not? You let me on the first.

And then we'd go on a naughty weekend to the seaside,

and I would prove my manliness by winning you a cuddly toy.

Aw. At the pier.

But I really wanted the giant Scooby-Doo.

Oh, nobody wins those. Coconuts are glued on.

What are those for?

To apologize.

We had our first fight.

I was not flirting with that waitress.

She means nothing to me.

And then,

I would have bought

Swedish furniture for us to make.

If we can get through this, we can get through anything.

Anything.

I'd find it adorable how your neck

gets all blotchy when you get nervous.

And I know you'd be the greatest possible mother to my child.

Oh, no.

Cannot fall in love with shiny new American.

I'll tell them both tomorrow. Definitely.

Hi.

So, I just wanted to connect

to check how the presentation is shaping up.

Mmm-hmm. Yeah. Totally on top of it. NutriBullet-ing the shit out of it.

I'm relying on you, Bridget.

I need you to get this right. Do you understand?

100%. You can count on me.

Great.

You all right?

I'm fine.

Big celebration.

I so glad to see you back together, huh?

Certainly is, Gianni.

Wonderful news, huh?

I was thinking about "Jack."

Huh?

If it's a boy, after my grandfather.

It's a good strong name. You can rely on a Jack.

Yes. One for the list.

To Jack. To Jack!

Oh!

So, this is Dad, I presume.

So glad you could be here.

This is a unique and wonderful moment.

Dr. Rawlings,

I wonder if you could maybe do me a little favor?

Mmm.

So, this is Dad, I presume.

Pleased to meet you. I'm so glad you could be here.

This is a unique and wonderful moment.

Before we start, would you like to know the sex?

Maybe we should be prepared.

You know, I'm not sure. It's a boy.

Oh. A boy!

A boy! A boy!

A boy. A boy!

- Aw. - Aw.

My boy.

Okay. Right.

This time, I have to tell them. Will start with Jack.

Have invited him to big scary work presentation.

And will explain all afterwards.

Welcome.

In a digital age where every cell phone is a camera,

we are all broadcasters.

Hard News is partnering with the London Media Show

so that you will be able to use your smartphones

to create your own news broadcasting channels!

Simply download the new Hard News app

and broadcast directly to our studios

where Miranda is waiting for our first ever live simulcast.

And hello, everyone, live at the London Media Show,

and welcome to the new look of Hard News studio.

We are now live!

And yes, our viewers are broadcasting.

Right. Let's now go to the Grampians

where Adam Wollaston is leading a team of Venture Rangers

to the top of Ben Nevis.

Hello, Adam Wollaston!

Hard News sucks balls!

Jesus!

Oh, dear. Well, let's put that news story firmly behind us.

Technical glitch.

Of course, it's never been easier to email or text the show.

Just search "Hard News,"

or simply,

Because“.

Uh...

Because“.

Holy fuck! What's he doing here?

Because at Hard News, we believe...

We believe that we are ready and on the frontline,

asking the questions the world wants answers to.

Turn around.

Thank you.

Okay. Career down the toilet.

Both men in the same room. What could possibly go wrong?

I hope you don't mind my just showing up and surprising you.

No.

Anyway, well done. It was very...

Yes.

Hey.

...technically adroit.

Mark, I would love for you to meet...

Uh...

Ari Yaratra Sitharamthanthan.

Ariyaranta is the Area Manager for DTC Technological Solutions.

Aren't you, Ari Sinatra?

Hi. Hello.

Hey.

What the hell was that?

What were you thinking?

I've got four voice mails from David Cartwright on my phone

that I dare not listen to. I'll be right back.

You call that a presentation?

I don't know if I've got the right people around me

because you're not...

Alice, I'm so sorry, but...

Sorry doesn't cut it. Excuse me.

Look at me when I'm talking to you.

Excuse me?

I'm so sorry, but I really...

What?

Bridget, I'd like you to meet Jack Quant. He's rather extraordinary.

I was just reading a profile of him in The New Yorker.

Right. Yes. We actually know each other.

Yes. We certainly do.

Good job. Why didn't you introduce me to this man before?

He's brilliant. You know, he represents the punk-rock band that's being extradited.

That's right.

Yes, yes. I knew that, too.

Hi. We met fleetingly before as well.

I'm in charge of data management for most of Daventry.

On.

Well, um...

I must say it's fantastic that you're getting on so well

because you have a lot in common.

Shall we get out of here and find a place a bit quieter?

Uh, yes. Why not? I booked Gianni's.

Great. That sounds lovely.

Oh. Um...

You might have to sit this one out, Ari...

I'm sorry.

So, do you actually believe that mathematics can...

How did you put it in your book?

"Help us analyze behavior previously invisible to science"?

Well, my dating algorithm is to help people

find love, not necessarily replace it.

Oh, no. ls incredible idea.

Have you ever tried it out?

You're single, right?

Well, I'm...

Yes, I suppose so.

And how did you two meet?

Oh.

Yeah.

It's, um...

It's sort of a funny story. Sort of.

You see, um, a few months ago, on the fourth of the month,

I met Jack at a music festival.

Right.

And we got on very well.

And sort of had, um, relations.

And the next week, that is to say, on the 11th of the month

at Jude's baby christening to be exact,

uh, following the consumption of quite a lot of alcohol,

Mark and I, well, we had similar relations?

And this is the funny part, I suppose.

Owing to these relations,

uh, the resulting life form currently residing in my tummy

could actually, in fact, be either of yours.

I know I should have told you both before.

But I just didn't.

You both seemed so happy.

So, correct me if I'm wrong,

but did you just say that the baby could be either of ours?

So, you have no idea which of us is actually the father?

I know, it's all very confusing.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

So, however we choose, uh, to do this,

the most important thing now is this.

Is this.

Okay, Bridget, I'm not gonna pretend this isn't a shock.

But I want you to know, whatever the circumstance, you're right.

The most important thing is the baby.

Who knows, this could be a great adventure.

I'm afraid you're going to have to excuse me. I have a meeting.

Oh. Uh...

I'm sorry.

Mark. Um...

Gianni, can we have the bill, please?

And if I thought that was tricky,

how would the news go down at Mum's

parish council election campaign?

Honestly, we started half an hour ago. Where have you been?

You said it was an emergency?

Well, The Gazette wants to take a family portrait.

What are you wearing?

Oh, my God. Bridget, are you...

Yep.

Oh! Yeah.

Why didn't you say anything?

Well, didn't want to upset you.

Well, why would you?

Oh, no, Bridget.

Who's the father?

It's not Mark, is it? Oh, do say it is.

Well, there's at least a 50% chance.

"A 50% chance"?

Mark or this really nice American called Jack.

No, Bridget. An American? Did you have a three-way?

Mrs. Jones.

Here, take this and pretend everything's fine.

Everything is fine.

Mrs. Jones. Can we...

Look, here's a lovely place for you to stand.

Are you ashamed of me?

No, darling. It's just the circumstances.

I'm running for high office, you see.

So long.

It's not the 1950s.

Look around you.

Two lesbians have just adopted at number 32.

If you don't change the way you look at things,

you're going to lose your precious election,

and perhaps your daughter.

Bridget, so lovely to see you. Are you...

Yes. I am.

How wonderful. We thought you'd just got all fat again.

BRIDGET. I'm now the Mary Magdalene of Middle England.

Have alienated Mum and Mark Darcy.

Am like tropical female insect

that shags men to impregnate self, then eats them.

The question is,

will Mark even turn up and engage in our polyamorous family?

Hey!

Hello!

First prenatal class.

Exciting, huh?

Yeah!

Wow.

You look great.

Hello. Hello!

Oh, I'm so glad you came.

Yeah, me, too.

Brought you an iced tea. Oh, well!

Thank you.

It's awesome to see you, man.

But there's a heck of a lot of caffeine in that tea.

I brought you a super juice.

Oh!

Thank you!

Um... Shall we go in?

Why not? Sure. Let me carry that for you.

Oh. Thank you.

Can I carry your phone for you?

Okay.

Thank you.

And who do we have here then?

I'm Bridget and this is Jack.

And this is Mark.

Oh!

Lovely.

You're our second same-sex couple today!

Uh, no, actually, we're...

Absolutely!

We just need the gift of a baby to make us feel complete.

You must be the surrogate?

Exactly. Yes.

Just helping this wonderful couple make their dream come true.

See, Mark is very nervous about all this.

It's all new to you, isn't it, lamb chop?

Like all visionaries, we'll encounter bumps along the road.

How would you like to give birth to your placenta?

Quickly!

Are you okay? Are you sure?

And of course, massage can have

many benefits throughout pregnancy.

Can we name some of them?

Yes. It relieves stress and promotes feel-good hormones.

And is also to be avoided in cases of high-risk pregnancy.

For example, when there is a geriatric mother.

Right! Excellent. Someone's been reading up.

Would you like to have a go?

No, I think I'll let Jack get on with it.

I think he seems to have it covered.

That's very sweet of you. That's why I love you, my little teacup.

What if we asked the right question

and applied the laws of mathematics

so that the science of courtship could be quantified?

Uh-oh!

Yippee!

It's a match!

Oh.

May I please make an application

for leave to appeal in the case of

Her Majesty's Government and Saddiq Al Bashir.

As Your Lordship is no doubt aware, Mr. Al Bashir lost...

So, everything's all right?

Yes, well, it's this combination.

Gherkins, anchovies, banana juice, and Pringles!

So, essentially...

It's wind.

Huh.

Right. So, going forward,

regular Pringles, not hot spicy barbecue?

Or possibly no Pringles at all.

- Try that. - Ugh.

Ah! Is everything all right? Is Bridget okay?

Yes. Perfectly fine.

She in there with...

That's Dr. Pringle.

He's testing her blood. This is interesting.

This is a new bedside technique we're testing out of Oslo.

It's Norwegian...

It's all right. I know about Jack. Thank you, Doctor.

Oh, thank goodness. Why didn't you tell me? She's fine.

He's calmed her down completely actually.

I'm sorry. I got your messages. I was in court.

Oh.

Oh.

Hi. It's all right. Can't be helped.

You should get it.

It might be work.

Don't worry. I got it covered.

Yes, I can see that!

Wow. Okay. You need to chill out.

We have to do this together.

You know, in Peru, the Um Bat Do consider paternity

a task shared between the many tribesmen.

Well, unfortunately, we Um Bat Don't live in Peru.

I live in Ealing.

Negative energy is just so bad for the baby.

Stop it, both of you!

This isn't a competition.

She's right.

We should take this toxic energy out of the room.

I won't be a minute.

What's up?

Come on, buddy.

Why are you so angry?

You know what? I'm really not your buddy.

And I don't know about vibes or negative energy or prenatal wind

and even less about algorithms.

So, I will confess that the laws of attraction are somewhat beyond me.

In fact, Bridget defies comprehension generally.

But despite, or perhaps, owing to

the bewildering litany of catastrophes

I've witnessed over the last 40 years,

I feel I've come to know Bridget rather well,

and I've spent those years caring for her very deeply.

And that may defy automated reasoning,

but there's nothing I can do about it.

Nothing you can do about it?

Maybe you should try and stay around a little

instead of saving the world by cell phone.

I make her happy, Mark.

And I suppose your algorithm tells you

you're destined to be together, does it?

Actually, it does.

The fact that you've been trying and failing for the past 1 O years

tells me you are not.

No.

I don't want to fight with you.

We should think about Bridget and the baby.

For better or worse, fate has brought us together.

It wasn't fate, it was condoms.

What do you mean?

Those ridiculous dolphin-friendly things

from the bottom of Bridget's bag.

I'm sorry, I have no idea what you're talking about.

When Bridget and I got it on,

I was not dressed for the occasion.

No Mark today?

No.

We must thank one person

who was prepared to fight for us when no one else would.

And we say to that person with all our heart...

Free speech!

Bridget. Camera back.

I still can't believe Mark ducked out like that.

Well, it's not really his fault.

I suppose we just have to hope it's Jack's, right?

I mean, let's face it.

Things could be worse. He is pretty fucking amazing.

He's richer than God, and he has a very nice-sized puppet.

He does.

And we match up very nicely on paper.

How do you know?

You just have to have faith.

You just have to ask yourself,

"Can I see myself growing old with this guy

"and not Mark Darcy?"

There it is. Uh-oh! There we go.

Oh, hey! Oh.

You know, first few months, they only see black and white.

This will help stimulate spatial awareness.

Or early onset motion sickness.

I got him one of these. A bouncy chair.

Ah!

Not quite sure where we're going to put it.

Yeah.

About that,

uh, it's kind of cramped in here, don't you think?

It's cozy.

You know, I've been thinking...

Might be nice if we moved in together.

You think we're ready for that?

I'm just tired of living in hotel rooms and airport lounges.

We could be a family.

Me, you and him.

What do you say?

What if it's not yours?

What?

What if the baby turns out to be Mark's?

Well, I mean, it would certainly change things.

Is that what you want? For it to be Mark's?

Oh. Uh...

Are you in love with him?

I have been.

In the past.

And me?

I could be one day.

Bridget, I haven't been entirely honest with you.

Mark thinks the baby isn't his,

and I let him believe it was mine.

That's why he disappeared.

Why would he think that?

Because I let him. Because I wanted you for myself.

Oh.

We could be so good for each other.

97%.

On paper.

But falling in love doesn't happen on paper.

Sometimes you love a person

because of all the reasons they're not like you.

And sometimes you love a person

just because they feel like home.

I've got to find Mark.

Hello, Pierce. It's Bridget.

I'm trying to get hold of Mark.

He just got back from a trip, Bridget.

He's in a taxi on his way home.

Hi.

Approximately eight weeks to go.

Mmm.

You don't really need them, you know.

All they're good for is fitting car seats and blaming things on.

They really just get in the way after that.

You're absolutely capable of doing this on your own.

I did.

You know what? I can do this on my own.

We can do this on our own.

One of the perks of being pregnant

is no longer feel like a tragic, lonely spinster

because of miniature miracle growing inside.

Hello.

Hello!

Mum's throwing a Christmas party/political rally.

It's like the G8 summit with Scotch eggs.

Oh. Be brave. Go in.

Hello, darling! Hello.

Sorry, I didn't realize everyone was here. I'll just pop upstairs.

No, nonsense. Nonsense.

Una's had all the posters re-printed.

- Oh. - You've inspired me.

It's still so long.

You were quite right, as it turns out.

This place is teeming with single mothers, single fathers,

bisexuals, surrogates,

and they're all lovely.

And so normal.

Do you know, I've even got two homosexuals on the team?

No, thank you.

Who knew? Everybody.

I'm so proud of you, darling, you know that?

What you're doing is not easy.

But if anyone can make it work, it's you.

That child is the luckiest boy on earth to have you as his mum.

And he's going to have the love

of a million fathers with you by his side.

Oh...

Come on. We've got some campaigning to do.

Make way, make way. Single pregnant mother coming through.

Laura, Josh.

We need to give six minutes to General Lu Tong, okay?

It's a huge scoop.

Yeah. Alice wants to pull the interview. What?

She's got a feature on "ls the world really ending on Tuesday?"

Well, it may as well if we lose Lu Tong. Lu Tong stays.

Six minutes. Let's do this.

General Lu Tong. Hi!

Sorry it's so chaotic in here today. Thank you for coming on.

We're on live in two minutes.

Miranda will probably want to start

with what's going on in Naypyidaw.

Miranda, get back on General Lu Tong.

Keep pressing.

So, let me ask you one more time, General Lu Tong,

will you take responsibility for the human rights abuses

perpetrated by your own government?

He's on the rack. Tight on four. Get those beads of sweat.

In you go, four, push in.

I'm sorry. I can't answer that.

Can't or won't, Lu Tong?

Can't or won't, General Lu Tong?

On balance I'd suggest "can't"

considering I've just found General Lu Tong in the lobby

and his chauffeur is currently live on-air

answering questions about Far Eastern geopolitics.

No? Any comment you want to make

about the use of sexual torture by your own military?

Ask him about London traffic.

London traffic, General Lu Tong? Anything to say about that?

No comment there.

Unbelievable.

That's it from General Lu Tong.

We'll see you after this short break.

Good job!

Unfortunately, you leave me no choice.

It's actually illegal to fire somebody for being pregnant.

I'm not firing her for being pregnant.

I'm firing her for gross incompetency.

Bridget is the beating heart of this show.

How could you want to fire her?

How about for interviewing a chauffeur instead of a general?

Using a TV interview

to determine if a guest might be the father of her child

and being responsible for the broadcast of six bare arses?

It's okay.

It's really okay, Richard.

I was going to quit anyway. Probably.

Believe it or not, I was a little like you when I started here.

A little chunkier, much less make-up.

But I wanted to make my mark, too.

But I don't want to be part of your rebranding.

I haven't got the right haircut anyway,

and I don't drink cocktails out of jam jars

or post photos of my lunch on Instagram.

And I suppose it's become unfashionable

to care about wanting to make something worthwhile.

But I would rather be old-fashioned and unemployed

than part of a show that celebrates the inane.

Then maybe when my boy is old enough to understand,

integrity will be fashionable again.

What have I done?

Oh.

It's all very well fighting for your principles

when there's no food in the fridge.

I mean, how difficult can it be to find another job

when you've just been fired and you're nine months pregnant?

And whatever happens now,

I'm going to get you one of those bloody Bugaboos.

Birthday?

Oh, God. Brain's gone to mush.

First shag?

No!

Ooh!

Bugged

I'm really sorry.

I've gone all crap all of a sudden.

Right.

No, no, no.

Oh, fuck.

Bugger, bugger, bugger.

Okay. New pre-birth resolutions.

I, Bridget Jones, am going to be the best mother in the world.

I'm going to try not to leave you in a shop

or put you in the washing machine

like that woman in the newspaper with her cat.

Look, I know I made you a promise

I would get things sorted before you got here.

Well, the truth is, I haven't.

But you and me can do this together

because knights in shining armor don't exist anymore.

Or do they?

Hi.

Bridget.

Good God, what are you doing there?

You're all wet.

Yes.

I locked myself out.

I left my bag, lost my keys, phone,

my mind.

What are you doing here?

Well, it seems I can always find time to save the world.

But you're my world.

I thought you were back with Candida.

You know perfectly well her name is Camilla.

Camilla.

I came round your house to find you and she was there.

She came to collect her bags. Gone back to The Hague.

I've just taken her to the airport.

Thank you.

Bridget,

you know I find emotional declarations difficult.

But the truth is...

Why are my trousers warm?

My waters must have broken!

Oh, Jesus.

So sorry. I'll get a cloth.

But you're not due for another two or three weeks at least.

Oh. That's a contraction.

I think we should get to the hospital quickly.

Absolutely.

Let's take your car.

I came in a taxi.

Oh, for fuck's sake.

Well, how was I supposed to know?

No, not you. The contractions!

No, we'll take your car.

We can't!

The car keys are in my bag with everything else.

Oh!

Five, six, seven, eight.

You just pant and breathe and count.

Nine. That's what you're supposed to do, isn't it?

Ten...

You should get that.

It might be work.

No! Don't!

Oi!

What the fuck?

That's really sweet.

But we've got to call a cab.

Oh, shit.

Right. What do we do?

I'll think of something.

- Look out! - Move, move, move!

We goin' ospedale.

We gonna make the baby.

God!

This is really happening! I'm going to be a mother!

Maybe I'm too old for all this.

Wait!

Why are you stopping?

A margherita with onion and pineapple, number 17. I thank you.

Who has onion and pineapple, huh? Some people, they are crazy, no?

Oh.

Okay! Yeah.

Okay.

Don't you worry, Miss Bridget. We get you there, huh?

There is no traffic: this time of night. It's okay, yeah?

Poonani! Poonani! Power to the Poonani!

I cannot believe, it's a bloody women's rights march!

Oh, jeez, not now!

Christ! It's those women I defended.

It's those infernal Russians. Just hold my hand.

We really need to get there.

We need to get there.

All right! We're getting out!

Uh, no, I don't think that's wise. Ready?

No, Bridget. Bridget!

Call Jack.

I come behind with the bags, Mr. Mark.

And I call Mr. Jack.

It's all right, Bridget. We'll find a way.

I don't think I can walk.

All right. I'll carry you.

Good God, Bridget. You're immense!

I can't help it!

I think my lung's collapsed. But this is not about me.

My contraction's starting again!

I'm going to have the baby in the street.

I'll tell you what.

We'll rest for 10, and we'll walk for 10.

All right? Okay.

It's not much further?

No. No?

I think it's about... I don't think...

...a mile and a half to go.

Are you okay?

It's probably best if I don't talk too much.

Yes.

Okay. I'm here. Okay.

I can take it from here. I'm here. Okay.

I got this!

Thank you! I got this.

Okay.

Jesus!

Jesus!

Jesus!

I'm here. This is a two-man job.

Okay.

- Take her. Take her! - I got her. Got her.

Jesus! Don't drop her!

Just go in. Okay. Do you want to go this way?

Yes. Go there! No, I'll go this way.

Okay. Go. Go.

All right. Squeeze in.

Are we gonna get in? All right.

Squeeze in. I'm squeezing.

And, push!

No, no, it's fine.

We're out. Okay.

Nurse!

Carol, Carol, wheelchair, wheelchair.

One, two, three...

Yes. Over here, please. Thank you.

You Okay?

Which of you is the father?

I am. I am.

Right.

Oh!

Breathe out the pain.

Oh, good! I was wondering how many fathers we'd get.

Full house! Bingo!

Bridget, how do you want to do this? Epidural?

No, you can do this.

A positive mental attitude is stronger than any drug.

Just think away the pain.

Bollocks to that. No. I want everything.

Gas, air, injections, morphine.

Bridget, remember your yoga.

Fuck yoga!

Oh, I couldn't agree with you more.

It's supposed to relax one, but I just spend the entire time

clenching my sphincter in an effort not to fart.

Now, can we turn you over? I just need to check your cervix.

Mmm. Mmm.

You're doing very well. That's it. Turning around to me. Gently.

Just a little rummage.

Right. Ready? Rummaging now.

Oh! Oh!

Ow! Oh!

Yes. Oh, good, good! You're at eight centimeters already. That's excellent!

That means you can't have any drugs at all.

What?

Yes, you're too far gone. Well done!

Oh, another contraction.

I'm not sure how much there is to gain

from you two being at the coalface, if I'm honest.

My ex-husband said it was like watching his favorite pub burn down.

So, your choice.

Maybe Dad should go and fetch Mum a cool flannel.

I know, I know. Okay. It's okay. It's okay.

You can do this.

Okay, just think away the pain.

Oh!

Motherfucker.

Just think away the pain.

Get out, both of you!

Where are you going?

I've changed my mind.

I've changed my mind.

You can do this.

You can. We can do it together.

Just think what life's thrown at you already.

You've turned disasters into triumphs

with your sheer, joyful, indefatigable, infectious lust for life.

You've managed this entire pregnancy almost entirely on your own,

despite a lunatic mother,

repressed men,

and cheating boyfriends who don't deserve you.

Just the last few moments.

Just the last few moments, my love,

and then you'll see your beautiful baby.

What if it's not yours?

Then I'll love him anyway.

Just as I love you.

Just the way you were, the way you are, the way you always will be.

Ow!

I think you'd better go and have that seen to.

Thank you.

I'll handle it from here.

"Think the pain away."

You're pushing an entire human being out of your vagina.

I'd like to see them thinking it away.

And with 367 of the votes,

the winner is, Pamela Margaret Jones.

Pamela! Darling, it's Bridget.

Not now, Colin.

It's about the baby!

I hereby declare that Pamela Margaret Jones is...

I'm so sorry.

You'll have to excuse me.

We are about to become a grandmother!

Well, that's it for this special

late-night edition of Hard News.

Grams going at 25 seconds to off-air, 25.

Bridget's in labor.

Bridget's in labor!

Except to say, Bridget Jones is in labor!

Yeah! Brilliant!

Run the credits!

Run it! Run the credits! Run it!

I hope I'm bloody godmother.

Cue the fucking weather!

Listen...

I owe you an apology.

I know I haven't behaved very well in all this.

No, it's okay.

Hello.

Aw!

Say hello to our beautiful boy.

Go ahead.

Thank you.

Hi.

That's who you are.

Isn't he perfect?

Yes.

Oh, hello.

I'm so sorry I'm late, Bridge.

Some lesbians are having a stupid all-night march.

Actually, they're marching in aid of free speech.

It's rather important. Oh, my God. Look at him.

Bridget. Bridge.

I'm so sorry we weren't here. This unbelievably annoying march...

Actually, the march is critical to... Can I be godfather?

Oh, I'm depending on you.

Oh, congratulations. Yeah, well done. Well done. Congratulations.

- Thank you very much. - Well done.

To both of you. To all of you.

My daughter!

Where is she?

I'm so sorry we didn't get here on time! Daddy's parking the car.

There's some march for women's rights.

I mean, honestly, do we need any more rights?

Mum, meet your new grandson.

Aw, the darling. He looks just...

Not that it matters,

but do we know who the daddy is yet?

Shall we find out?

Come on, you two. Time for a little test.

So exciting, isn't it?

It's like the final of The X Factor or something.

Dial 0-1 if you want it to be Mark

and 0-2 if you want it to be Jack!

Oh, good luck.

You, too.

Please. Thank you.

You look beautiful.

Thank you.

Hello, darling! Hello.

Hello.

Hello.

Hi.

We're really doing this.

No going back now.

We are gathered here to celebrate the union

of Bridget Rose Jones and Mark Fitzwilliam Darcy.

And by the powers vested in me,

I now pronounce you, finally,

husband and wife.

Jack, what on earth are you doing with my son?

Well, don't leave me alone with him again.

I have no idea what I'm doing.

Is he traumatized?

Oh!

Hello, William Jones-Darcy.

Are you ready?

Some champagne for you? Yes, please.

Dear Diary, and so, I, Bridget Jones, am a singleton no more.

Married? Yes.

Smug?

Well, it's about time, so maybe just a little.