All language subtitles for waiting_for_god_s03e10_great_aunt_diana

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.