All language subtitles for Bridget.Jones.

Fuck, fuck, fuck!
So late!

Mabel's put a scarf on
the cat.

He's not a cat.
He's my husband.

Where is he?

- Will he bring the ladies with
the big boobies?
- "Ladies"?

Last time,
he brushed my hair with a fork.

There were three ladies,
and they had
an epic pillow fight.

- The fork had maple syrup on it.
- Out of the way, darling.

Well,

it's obvious he's not coming,
so I'll just stay home.

You said this was the one thing
you had to leave the house for
this year.

You're right. I'm going.

Move, please, Mabes.

Fuck-- caccia.

Did we eat the focaccia?

Well,
we haven't got any vegetables.

But lucky you, you get to have
frozen peas. Mmm.

All right. Come to the table.

Come on.

One, two...

What am I going to do
when I get to three?

Please enter alarm code.

Oh, fuck, oh, fuck, oh, fuck!

- Please enter alarm code.
- No! Don't put the flames out.

- We can toast marshmallows.
- Please enter alarm code.

Please--

The tension of our bodies,

the scars of--

Hello, Moto.

...in-- in our longing.

Bridget Jones, always exciting.

- How's the skirt?
- Daniel, hi.

Just checking you have indeed
forgotten about tonight.

That is hurtful, Jones.
I have absolutely not forgotten.

No.

I'm so sorry. It's my mother.

- She's in the hospital.
- Oh.

- Primordial sweat.
- I will be there

quicker than
it took me to bring you to
earth-shattering orgasm,

you filthy little harlot.

Love you, Mummy.

"Mummy"?

Darling, clever Geminita.

I'm gonna have to rush.
It's a family emergency.

But I am loving this one.

I think-- I think we all are,
aren't we?

Call me later, yeah?

Oh, yeah.

I am imminent, Jones. Imminent.

Un-bunch those giant panties.

Bloody zip
manufacturers should be

cancelled for sociological bias.

It is actually impossible
to do this on your own.

Help.

Ooh. Thank you, monkeys.

Uncle Daniel!

Miniature Darcy,
what's the news?

Where are the ladies
with the big--

Hair?
They couldn't make it, sadly.

They're, um...
They're washing their hair.

All three?

Yeah, well, they wash each
other's, you see.

I thought you said
no more models.

Geminita is not a model, Jones.

She is a poet and a healer,

and a model.

Come here.

Hell of a night for you.

Ugh, I can't go.
The children need me.

Uncle Daniel!

You. Right.

Get a fork and some syrup.
I'm gonna style you.

- I found the cards.
- Very good. Excellent.

Now then, we need to work on
your bluffing and your cheating.

Life has its white notes...

and life has its black notes.

You look very beautiful tonight,
Mrs Darcy.

Not looking so bad yourself,
Mr Darcy.

Bridget.

Very black notes.

Jolly good. Come in.
Weather's been a bit shitty,
hasn't it?

- Though the cricket this year
has been...
- Jeremy.

...absolutely phenomenal.

This is what happened.

Mark Darcy, my husband,

father to Billy and Mabel,

died.

Or rather, was killed

in the Sudan on
a humanitarian mission.

- Everybody's just upstairs.
- Thanks.

And that was four
years ago. Today, actually.

Brace yourself.
It's a total fucking shit show.

And even though there
might be 600,000 words in
the human language,

the world still struggles
to find the right ones

when someone you love is gone.

Bridget, how are the children?

- Mmm.
- Are they--

Are they all right without
you there?

No. It's fine.

Left them some crystal meth
in the kitchen.

Maybe not.

Well, we don't make a thing
about it.

We celebrate Mark's birthday
instead.

Oh.

So, Bridget, still on your own?

It's been four years now.

You're still
in pretty good nick.
Why no chap?

Now, now. It's not Bridget's
fault. Very hard,
being a middle-aged woman

- and finding yourself single.
- Mmm.

Better if you're a bloke.
Look at Binko Carruthers.

He's no oil painting,

but the second Rosemary died,
he was inundated.

Of course, they were all of
a certain age, though,
weren't they?

Sorry, do you realise
you said that out loud?

Hmm?

"A certain age"?
What, do you mean our age?

- That is the most...
- Shazzer now hosts

a podcast called Fed Up,

in which she has dinner
with minor celebrities

while basically getting furious
about everything.

...sexist fucking universe
we, unbelievably,

still continue
to fucking inhabit.

I need to go to the toilet.

Oh.

Oh, dear.

Yeah, Jude.
Yeah, I'm with her now.

Well, Shaz, tell her
to come to The Golden Cock.

No, no, no. The party.
It's for Mark.

That's not a party.
That's a fucking bin fire.

And you think that Mark
would want you to stay here
and be insulted

in the fucking sexism Olympics?

To Mark.

- And to Bridget...
- Aw.

...and the rare pleasure
of seeing you

in something not made
of terry towelling.

Tom, still living

handsomely off
his one hit single

which had a comeback recently
in a 30-second video of
a dog doing maths.

Now, of all things,
a life coach.

Honestly, I'd say it was
a bit of a breakthrough,

speaking as your psychologist.

You're not my psychologist.

Well, I should be, yes.

According to the classic model,

you've actually made it
to the fourth stage

- of the five stages of grief.
- Wait. Isn't it seven stages?

What are you talking about,
Jude? No, it isn't.
It's five stages.

- Isn't it five?
- Well, I always thought
it was four.

It's definitely seven.

Jude, now CEO or COO

or CTO,
definitely a C-something-O,

still regularly calling,
in tears,
from executive bathroom.

So, um, only one stage to
go now, Bridge.

- Oh.
- Stage five.

It's acceptance,
which basically means

- you just have to get laid.
- Oh, my God. Shazzer's right.

Yes. I mean, honestly, darling,
look at yourself.

You've become
a born-again virgin.

If you don't get laid soon,
your vagina will literally
reseal itself.

Yeah, and that is
a thing.

It's called labial adhesion.

Oh, my God!

I knew leaving the kitchen was
a mistake.

I don't want anyone else.

And even if I did,
which I don't,

I'm non-viable,
completely asexual,

and nobody will
ever fancy me again.

- Ever, ever, ever.
- No. No, no, no.

And I'm going to the toilet.

Crash and burn.
That was a disaster.

Well, that was
a fucking disaster.

Crikey. Have we been burgled?

We have not
been burgled, Jones. No.

We have been marvellous.
Now, tell me this.

For Tonya, do we think a kitten
heel or a chunky wedge?

She's going to Wimbledon.

Wedge, obviously.

You may be right.

How was it? Any fun? Any tongue?

Ugh. God. No tongue.
I have hung up my tongue.

How were they?

Well, the girl is you.

Lawless, romantic,
irresistibly drawn to me.

Asked me if I was going
to be her new daddy.

She does that.

Yeah. Wouldn't go to bed
until I'd married her rabbit.

- Hmm.
- Which I was very happy
to do.

That rabbit is not
at all unfanciable.

Hmm.
And Billy?

Well, Billy is Darcy, isn't he?

Still waters and all that.

As it happens, Jones, your son

and I have a number
of shared interests.

Oh, God. Like what?

Models.

He showed me his,
I showed him mine.

- Hmm.
- And then we--
we talked about death.

Did you?

Yeah.
I told him being dead was shit.

And that I should know
because I was for a bit.

And then, uh...

I gave him a hug
'cause he seemed a bit sad.

And then that made me sad
because...

How is your boy?

Enzo's, what? He's...

Uh, fuck knows, Jones.
Fifteen, I think.

Anyway, we then cheered
ourselves up by digging out
the cocktail shaker,

and I taught him how
to make a Dirty Bitch.

Saved it for you.
It's in the fridge.

Goody. Have it for breakfast.

Yeah, hello, hello,
hello, hello.

Geminita.

Yeah, we're all done. All done.
I'm on my way.

Well, as quick as I can.

Yes, like naughty old moth
to eager young flame.

No, you hang up first.

And-- OK, kiss you back.

Yeah, OK. Louder.
Yeah.

Oh, my God.

Fuck off, Jones.
OK, they're asleep.

Um...
...it did take a bit of time.

But I-- Actually I showed them
a video of Geminita

reciting one of her prose poems
and they were out like a light.

All right.

What happens now?

I'm trying to remember how it
worked with our babysitters.

I think you give me 20 quid
and try and shag me, don't you?

Ah, Daniel,
dear Daniel.

At least some things
never change.

It makes me sad though, Jones.
You know...

two children and you all alone
and effectively a nun.

Albeit, of course,
a very, very naughty nun.

Bye, Daniel.

Yeah.

Thanks for tonight.

Yeah.

Why are these lights
still on?

I thought you two were asleep.

Do you miss Dada sometimes?

I miss him all of the times.

There's my owl.

Back to bed. Come on.

- Story, Mama?
- Mm-hmm.

For the baby princess is
as kind as she is fair.

And the baby prince is as gentle
as he is handsome.

And wherever they go
and whatever they do,

Mummy and Daddy
will always love them.

And Saliva.

She stinks, Mabes.

Oh!

- Good night, darling.
- Good night, Mama.

Good night.

And all the thoughts...

And all the thoughts
are going away.

They don't need little Billy
and Mabel tonight.

The world
will turn without them.

The stars
will shine without them.

And all little Billy and Mabel
need to do is rest and sleep.

Good night.

Night.

Good night, Billy.

- Do the song, Daddy. Please.
- OK.

♪ I'll do anything
For you, dear*

♪ Anything*

♪ For you mean everything
To me*

All by myself 47.

Shitballs.

No. Cock-bollocking
fuck-bubbles!

Literally everyone
else in the whole country

is laughing uproariously
with their partners

while watching Netflix
and having sex.

You don't want to wallow in it, darling.

And there they are again.

All the voices, all the advice.

You gotta wallow in it, Bridge.
Wallow.

Grieve. G-R-E-I-V-E.

It's I-E. It's not E-I.

No, it's, "I before E
except after C."

Yes, exactly.

God, you really are such
a T-W-T-A.

A what?

The thing about advice is,

no one tells you
the same thing twice.

Bridget, you've got
to put the children first.

Uh-huh. Thank you,
Magda. Yes.

Put the children first.

Sod the children.

Put your own oxygen mask
on first.

Right. Oxygen mask.

Got it.

One thing's for certain, Bridge.

Forget about sex.
Oh.

OK.

No sex.

You need to have a lot of sex.

Yeah. Why don't you come back
to work?

Thank you, Richard.
I'll bear that in mind.

But as my dad said
just before he died,

the big question is...

Can you survive?

I think so.

I have to.

I'm trying.

It's not enough to survive.
You've got to live.

Is that the Dalai Lama?

It's Harry Styles, I think.

Colin.

- Is that a sausage?
- What sausage?

Bridget, you know what
the doctor said
about saturated fats.

Pam, could you take a photograph
of us? Me and Bridget.

Um...

Colin, try not to do that with
your chin.

I'm not doing anything with
my chin.

Promise me you'll live, Bridget.

Smile!

Bridget Jones,
it's time to live.

♪ I know when to go out*

♪ Know when to stay in*

♪ Get things done*

♪ I catch a paper boy*

♪ But things
Don't really change*

♪ I'm standing in the wind*

♪ But I never wave bye-bye*

♪ But I try*

♪ I try*

♪ Never gonna fall for*

♪ Modern love*

♪ Walks beside me*

♪ Modern love*

♪ Walks on by*

♪ Modern love*

♪ Gets me to*

♪ The church on time*

♪ Church on time*

♪ Terrifies me*

♪ Church on time*

♪ Makes me party*

♪ Church on time*

♪ Puts my trust in God and man*

♪ God and man*

♪ No confession*

♪ God and man*

♪ No religion*

♪ God and man*

♪ Don't believe in modern love*

♪ It's not really work*

♪ It's just the power to charm*

♪ I'm still standing in
The wind*

♪ But I never wave bye-bye*

♪ But I try*

♪ I try*

♪ Never gonna fall for*

♪ Modern love*

♪ Walks beside me*

♪ Modern love*

♪ Walks on by*

♪ Modern love*

♪ Gets me to the church*

♪ On time*

♪ Modern love...*

Right.
You've got your pencil case,

your lunch, your homework?

- Your keys?
- Ooh.

Well,

you've definitely got your
recorder so that's good.

Your lovely picture of
a spaceship.

It's a cat.

Oh, yes.
Of course it is, darling.

What paints did you use?

I used the lipsticks with
the C's on them.

- Oh. So creative.
- Handbag?

Oh, fuck a duck.

Hello, Billy.

Morning.

Hello, Mabel.

Morning, Bridget.

Hi.

Just the usual crap.

Are you going to be
my new daddy?

- No, Mum!
- No! Mum!

When I signed up
for having children,

I did not sign up
to be ruled by

a gaggle of computer crackheads.

Well, guess what?

I've had you,
I've brought you up,

and I've changed my mind!

No!
No, no, no!

Don't you touch those
or I'll fucking enter you
in Squid Game.

Here, darling.

- Come, come.
- Mum!

Why don't we ever say hello?

Oh.
Important life lesson, darling.

Never meet your heroes.

Starting today,
will not set things on fire,

will responsibly reset
passwords not to include
the word "fuckwit,"

and will not be frightened
of the school mums...

Hi.

...in particular,
Perfect Nicolette...

...with her perfect twins.

Move the car! There's no parking
in front of the school.

- How are you?
- What?

I-I thought you were in LA.

- Right.
- Mr Walliker?

Mr Walliker, Eros tells me
he hasn't been selected for
the choir for some reason.

- Correct.
- Well, how can that be?

Because he can't sing.
Anything else,
Mrs Soltani-Watkins?

Mr Walliker, if you have failed
to recognise
Eros's obvious talents,

- that's hardly his fault.
- It's really quite simple.

The choir, like everything else
in nature, is chosen on merit.

Yeah, natural selection.

If Eros wants
to put in the work,
he's welcome to audition again.

If you'll excuse me.
Bike!

Bike! Not there. Not there.

Who's that?

Oh. New science teacher.
Mr Walliker.

Instant hero.

Unbelievably rude.

He's awful.

Move along, please. Right away!

You two! This isn't a stroll on
the heath.

You don't see me unfolding
deck chairs and unwrapping
sandwiches, do you?

Move it inside!
It's choir in eight minutes.

Mr Walliker. Hello.

I don't believe we've met.

I'm Billy Darcy's mum.

The boy about to be diagnosed
with tinnitus.

The whistle is
an essential tool, Mrs Darcy.

Mmm. An essential tool?

What an apt description.

Eros! Atticus!

If you're late,
you will regret it for
the rest of your days.

Sorry, sir!

No!

She'll be back later.

We have a doctor's appointment.

I've got worms!

Why is your granny
wearing pyjamas?

That went well.

"G-O-N-O"--

That's lovely, darling.

- "R-H"...
- There you go.

One tablet a day for
the entire family,

and if her itching doesn't stop,
I suggest you get rid of
that cat.

Have you got some help yet?

I know it doesn't look it,
but really,

- I've got it all in hand.
- No, it doesn't look it.

Apart from anything else,
I'm a gynaecologist,
not a paediatrician.

And whilst I'm happy to step in,
you do take my point.

If you say "oxygen mask"
to me again, I will hit you
with this handbag.

I am not afraid of handbags.

You need something else to do.

You need a reason
to get out of those pyjamas.

Well, fashion's never
really been your thing.

- Rude.
- Pyjamas are all the rage
in Milan.

Bridget, in spite of
all objective evidence to
the contrary,

you are a bright, talented,
brilliant woman.

And my professional advice
to you is this.

- You need--
- No. No, no, no.

Please don't tell me to go
and have sex.

Oh, good Lord, no.

No.

Read a book.
Clean out the kitchen drawers.

Leave the pink bits
well enough alone.

You'll be ready when
you're ready.

No, my professional advice
to you is this:

go back to work.

And how's your love life?

On fire.

"Sy-P-Lis."

- Mmm.
- Syphilis. Mabel, Syphilis.

Syphilis.

Mmm. Very good. Very good.

And there's
some delicious vegetarian
alternatives here too.

Floods, fires and famine.

As the world teeters on
the edge
of climate catastrophe,

sausages aren't the only thing
we are grilling today.

Environment Secretary
Sarah Givens
joins us after the break.

Hi.

Oh, thank God you picked up.

What's the matter?

They've got the bloody
Environment Secretary on
in 45 seconds

and they've got me asking
her questions about
bloody tea bags.

"What's the best way to recycle
tea bags?"

"Can you clean surfaces
with tea"...

I need you, Bridget!

OK. Uh...

Ask her...

Ask her why there were
no tax breaks
for renewable energy

- in last week's budget.
- Brilliant.

She'll fob you off with some
crap about economic constraints

and then you nail her on oil
and gas companies ring-fencing
their profits.

- Yes, I do.
- She'll flap!

And then you nuke her arse
on the government's support
for fracking.

Ooh.

I fracking love you,
Bridget Jones.

- Hi, Bridge.
- Yes!

Oh, oh, oh! Do try to find out
about the tea bags though.

- Love you. Bye. Bye.
- Love you. Bye!

Welcome back.

Our next guest is

Environment Secretary
Sarah Givens.

Sarah, budget,
tax breaks, fracking.

Justify.

And no fob-off!

Could you please put me through
to Richard Finch's office?

My name's Bridget Jones.

Yeah. I'll hold. Thanks.

Billy,
I want to watch SpongeBob.

Billy, come off that, please.

You've had your screen time.

One, two...

But, Mummy, it's Sunday.

No.

Can I watch SpongeBob?

May I watch SpongeBob.

Yes?

No, you've got to say,
"may I," not "can I."

May I watch SpongeBob?

- No.
- But, Mummy!

No, no, no, no.

No more screens, either of you.

Screens have been
proven to shorten
attention spans and...

Ooh!

No.

Will you come and practise
cricket with me in the garden?

Mummy really needs
to work, darling.
Why don't you play with Mabel?

She refuses to hit the ball.
She says she feels sorry
for Ball-y.

Ball-y.

Darling, please go and play
cricket with Billy.

I may not!

Is it too much to ask
to get some bloody peace all
by my bloody self

for five bloody minutes?

Internet's down!

I want to watch SpongeBob.

Tell Billy it's my turn.

- Mummy!
- I don't want to be a mummy
right now.

You had it for ages!

I didn't even
have it today. It's my turn!

Mummy!

There's no Internet!

I just want to sit down

in echoing silence on my own
for one moment.

- Mummy! Mummy!
- Just shut up!

Shark bait!

Come and get it!

Okay. You asked for it!

Miranda?

All right, Bridge?

What're you doing here?

So I was reading the newspaper
in Soho House

and it was so, so quiet,
you know?

I just miss all this.

Off milk, stuff, clutter,
children, life.

Plenty of that here.

You don't have any champagne.

Top tip:

always keep a cold bottle
of champagne

in the fridge for emergencies.

That's excellent advice.

Cards on the table,

I'm thinking
of unfreezing my eggs.

Apparently,
everyone is going to Denmark

to get sperm.

- Oh.
- Yeah.

But I want what you have.
All of this.

But Soho House and-and Sunday
papers and cold champagne--

You're free, Bridge.

You're liberated from
the tyranny of this.

Do you know how many
dating apps I use?

Could you look sexy?

Well, I mean...

I might still brush up OK
given enough time.

No, I mean for this photo.

I've set you up on Tinder.

- What?
- You're welcome.

- Oh, no, no, no, no, no.
- Well, I've popped you down as
a widow.

It's so much more romantic
and singular.

We all agree it's what you need.

What's Tinder?

It's...

such a lovely day.

Who wants to, um,
go to the heath?

- No, I don't wanna go!
- No, SpongeBob!

Oh, OK. That's no problem.

Uh, sure.

Um, you stay here,

and I'll just, uh, take these
chocolate buttons. Ooh!

- Let's go, nutters!
- Can't wait!

Children and fresh air
and white chocolate buttons.

I feel like Julie Andrews!

Oh! I just got matched
with someone.

Sorry, Mabel, could you just
get off, actually,

'cause you're killing my back.

Uh, he's on a street corner...
in a van.

- He looks like Jason Statham...
- Mmm.

...if you squint.

In a bit, Bridge.

Bye, kids. See you.

- Bye!
- Bye.

Oh, how everything
calms down once you're outside
in blue skies

turning the children into
biddable lemurs.

Will obviously
delete Tinder immediately.

But perhaps
a very quick look first.

Keith?

Who are you, Keith?

Feel suddenly exposed
to whole new world hiding
in plain sight

like Narnia through back
of wardrobe,

but with lion
and witch shagging.

Mummy!
Mabel's stuck up the tree!

- How'd she get up there?
- Mummy!

Coming!

Okay.

No, it's... it's all right.

I can't get down either.
- It's all right. I'm here.

Uh.

Billy. Is that you?

Oh, no. It's Mr Walliker.

Everything all right, Mrs Darcy?

Yep. Super.

Just climbing a tree.

I can see that.

Having fun?

Yes. Yeah, this is really fun.

- You sure you don't need a hand?
- No, no.

As Einstein said,

"What goes up must come down."

- Newton.
- Yes.

Newton.

We're going to die!

No, we're not going to die.
We're having fun.

We are definitely
going to die.

Clearly you've got this
nicely in hand.

Look, there's a policeman.

Oh, my God.

I've climbed
a magical man tree.

- Are you stuck?
- Yes!

No.

- Do they need help?
- Apparently not.

So, I'll... I'll be off then.

Bye-bye.

Okay. I'll be off too.

Don't go away.

No, seriously.
Don't go away.

Hang on. I'm coming.

Okay. Coming up.

Uh...

Hello.

Okay, just... Hang on.

Hello.

Hi, mate.

- Hi, what's your name?
- Mabel.

- Mabel.
- I can't jump down.

Okay. Well, you sit down there.

You get comfy, and I'm gonna go
down there and catch you, OK?

- Okay, you ready?
- Yeah.

Three, two, one, go!

- I did it!
- I've got you.
Well done.

All right, big man. Your turn.

Okay. You got this, mate.
There we go.

- Next foot.
- That's it, darling.

And I've got you.

Okay, Mum.

Okay.

There we go.

- Okay.
- Okay.

- You all right?
- Yes.

Yes.

Okay.

Thank you.

Thank you.

It's all right.

Uh, I'm Roxby.
But you can call me Roxster.

Bridget Jones.

But you can call her Mummy.

Hmm. Okay.

Oh.

I think this is yours.

Thanks.

Anything else I can help with?

God, yes.

No.

Okay.

It's nice to meet you, Roxy.

It's Roxster.

You too, Bridget Jones.

Now obsessed
with tree-rescuing Adonis

and reentering world
of flirting simultaneously
with workforce.

- Mrs Darcy.
- Mr Walliker.

Weapon at the ready, I see.

Good to see you managed
to extricate yourself from
that tree.

Oh, yes.
It's the children's
favourite game.

We're completely obsessed
with the outdoors in our house.

Well, I'll have to put you down
for our Outward Bound trip
next term.

Sounds like it'd be right up
your street.

Fucking fuck.

Yeah. Good.

Do you have my slime?
I promised I'd show Cosmata.

Oh.

Hey, those are mine.

Give them to me.

They are actually hers.

Well, in that case...

Bridget!

You're dressed properly.

Odd.

Heading to a meeting.

Thinking about going back to
my old job.

Oh, a job. Oh, I'll put you down
for Jobs Day then.

Fucking fuckety fuck fuck.

Yes, absolutely.

Celestine,
merci. C'est gentil.

Actually, do you mind
tidying this up a little bit?

Sure.

Uh, what about the children?
Do you have a nanny?

Not yet.

Oh, I've got the perfect person.
She's excellent.

She's very pretty, but that
doesn't matter, Bridget,

because you don't have
a husband,

so it's absolutely immaterial
how pretty and perfect she is.

- Sounds good.
- There we go.

- Francesca.
- Sorry.

Wonderful.

It's nothing.
I just threw it together.

Ah.

Bridget? Your donation?

You didn't forget?

No.

Certainly not.

Uh, let's see.

Here we are.

Hummus.

And, uh...

Rice cakes.

And look, they've even been
opened already.

Lovely.

Ah. Her name's Chloe,
and she'll be with you at 6:30.

Raef! India! Get inside.

That's enough chatting.

Bridget Jones.

Thank you.

Four.

Four.

- Three.
- Three.

Thank you.

This is Bridget Jones
about to

go into an actual
in-person meeting.

- Brenda Jones?
- Oh, actually, it's--

Bridget Jones, there you are.
Excellent. Quick, come with me.

- Thank you, Lizzie.
- Thanks.

Good to see ya.
How have you been?

You look hot.

Oh. Thank you, Richard.

But I think you'll find
that sort of language is
a little outmoded

- in the workplace.
- No, I mean flustered.

Are you going through the, uh,
you know?

Bridget, let me introduce you
to Talitha.

Richard, what am I
supposed to do with this, huh?

Does it climb?
Does it stand on one leg?

Does it do cartwheels?
It's a tortoise.
It doesn't do anything.

He can't pull out.
Who the fuck does
he think he is?

Arrogant, self-important prick.

Tell that selfish arsehole
he can rot in hell.

The Dalai Lama's cancelled.

Twat. Shit.

Okay, we've got an hour
till we're on air.

We need a replacement.
Let me make a call.

I do Krav Maga with Fergie.

Duchess or Black Eyed Pea?

Duchess. She could be here
in 45.

Talitha, meet Bridget Jones.
Best producer we've ever had.

Oh.

I'm sure you're very good too.

Huge fan.

Hold this.

Loved your early work
from Chechnya.

Now I'm doing features
on incontinent tortoises.

Fergie.

Are those glutes burning up?

Hello.

- Hey. Sorry.
- Right.

Uh, right. Let's get rid
of this set, please, now!

So, what do you think?

Can we lure you back?

Fergie's in.

Does anyone know how
to get tortoise piss out
of silk?

Blotting and mild detergent.

When can I start?

Am rejoining ranks
of London's employed

and meaningfully contributing
to society.

Can walk with head held high
and be role model
for Billy and Mabel,

saving them from otherwise
certain future as alcoholic
wards of the state.

It's super that
the television's invited
you back.

Of course, I always stayed
at home when you were little.

Classic Mum.

Can't really talk, Mum.

I've got to tidy up
before the nanny gets here.

A nanny? Really?

Mummy doesn't love us anymore.
Ow!

Ever since Mum
and Una moved
into Audsley House,

the retirement home
we have to pretend is a hotel,

the phone calls
have been the same.

Any men on the horizon,
Bridget?

Well, there's got to
be someone. Some people
don't mind a widow.

Stings a bit.

Beggars can't
be choosers, Bridget.

And now, look, we're in
the hotel kitchen

doing salmon in the sous vide.

I mean, it's basically
boil-in-the-bag,

but everybody's doing it
these days.

Roxster.
Definite development.

Cooking's never really
been your thing.

Oh, must go. Bye, Mum!

Bye, bye.

Oh, God, it's her.

Hi, I'm Chloe.

Hello.

What the actual fuck?

She looks like a film star.

Chloe, this is Mabel.

Look, I can play the recorder
with my nose.

Children, this is Chloe.

She's going to come
and help with everything.

Nicolette mentioned it would
be a challenge,

- but I've certainly seen worse.
- Oh.

Oh, and this is Billy,
the science genius.

Ooh, we mustn't
pigeonhole children.
It adds undue pressure.

Have you read How To Raise
a Self-Driven Child?

Oh, yes. It's-It's on my list,

so do not spoil the ending.

Oh, not to worry, Billy.

It's not about the result.
It's about the journey.

There's something to learn
whether you get an A or a C.

Billy has never had
a C in...

Who did this?

Mr Walliker.

I drew the earth
and the atmosphere,
and I put heaven over the top.

And Mr Walliker said that heaven
was a religious construct.

And he gave me a C.

Well, Mr Walliker

is a whistle-obsessed fascist

with all the soul of
a non-stick wok.

Where did you hide
the chocolate digestives?

I didn't hide...

...anything.

Well, plenty to do here.

♪ If my body was a boat
Could you steer that, sailor? ♪

♪ Make it feel
Like it's a 1960s
Hollywood trailer...*

Consumed with guilt
re hideously perfect nanny,

who children will obviously
come to love more than
hopeless mother

without film star hair.

♪ Ooh, it's what I need
Yes, 'cause*

♪ I could love you*

♪ If I really wanted to*

♪ You could be
Be my glass of wine*

♪ When the sun set
Help me exhale all the excess*

♪ Baby, bae, b-b-bae
B-b-baby, would you*

♪ Would you make it
all right?*

♪ Or maybe that much better?*

♪ If you wanted
You could make it*

♪ All worth it, worth it
Worth it, worth it*

♪ Ooh, when I see the sun rising
You make it that much better*

♪ So I hope you're gonna make it
All worth it, worth it...*

And texting Roxster
slowly became part of my life.

A relationship
with no necessity
for actually meeting,

or arrangements, or sex,
or any real life at all.

In other words,
the perfect relationship.

Is that the tree Adonis?

Wait a minute.

You wrote to him,
"How are you liking Tinder?"

Inoffensive, neutral,
a bit dull.

He replied, "Don't know,
only joined it to find you,
Bridget Jones."

- Shag him now.
- Mm-mmm.

Then he sent a smiley emoji

and then you responded
with the flag of Greece,

an abacus and a duck.

I panicked.

Thank you.

Who's next?

Do you want to go for a drink?

I'm so flattered.

Um, but I've got a boyfriend.

Well, sort of got a boyfriend.
I think.

Um, so nice of you to ask,
but, um...

no, thank you.

No, it's part of the meal deal.

Well, this one's easy.

You absolutely must go.
Obviously.

But we've been texting for so
long now. I can't meet him.

I mean, maybe it's like
in Jane Austen's day

when they did letter writing
for months and months

and then suddenly
just got married.

Bridget, sexting a man
that you just met in a park

is nothing like
Jane Austen's day.

- If you don't shag him, I will.
- I can't.

There is no possibility
of being naked with a man
at this point in my life.

You just need a little rebrand.

You'll start by getting a slip.

- A slip?
- Yeah, with a slip,

you can show off your arms,
your legs, your décolletage,

which are always the last to go.

And keep the central area,

which one might want to gloss
over, glossed over.

And get a Brazilian.

God, no.

I like a bit
of coverage down there.

Or run a comb through it
at least.

But also, do get a Brazilian.

Just dust it. Dust it down.

Okay, I'll go!

But I'm not going to sleep
with him.

Are condoms
meant to be coloured?

Is hypersensitive good?

Large? Small? Oh.

Maybe just purchase
a representative selection.

Regular.

Mmm, exotic flavours.

Thin feel.

Extra-large.

Pleasure Me.

Lube.

Pleasure Me again.

Enjoy your weekend, Mrs Darcy.

Hello, old friend.

Hmm.

Thanks for having
the kids tonight.

Always a pleasure,
never a chore.

I'll take them to
school in the morning.

So you can stay out as late
as you want.

Make up for four years of
no shagging.

It's only a drink.

Too see-through?

Mmm. Definitely.

OK.

How about this?

OK.

The reality suddenly
completely terrifying,

and Mark,
and insane and flabby.

And oh, God, oh, God.

I can't.

- I really can't.
- Oh. What? What?

- No, I just can't.
- Aw. Hey, you can.

You just need to think of
it as widening your circle
of friends.

That's all.

Hmm?

Come on.

Put on the dress,
get out of here

and widen your fucking circle.

Oh, God. Look at him.

What if he's perfect?

Hello.

Hi.

There's a really great place
around here that's been here
for forever.

Do you know this area at all?

Mmm, I used to.

Yeah, the, uh, Heath Ranger
thing is just a day job.

And my real passion is garbage.

Really?

The technical term
is garbologist.

I'm a biochemist.
Studying to be one.

You're a student.

A late-in-life one, anyway.
Yeah.

How late?

I'm 28.

I'm just kidding.

I'm 29.

Fuck.

Is he closer in age to me
or to Billy?

What about you?

You are...

Slightly older.

I'm gonna say 35-ish.

Yes.

Bull's-eye.

Let's say 35.

- Mmm. Thirty-five it is.
- Mm-hmm.

Is 35 all right?

I think older women,

ever so slightly older women,

have a wiser view on life.

You know,
they're more experienced

and more emotionally mature.

Me in a nutshell.

I find that very attractive.

Oh, God.
I have no idea how any
of this works anymore.

Is it all right if I kiss you?

Aw.
The generation who ask.

I think
that would be acceptable.

Give me just one moment.

Oh, my God.

What are you doing?

♪ Put your hand down, boy*

♪ Welcome to my zoo*

♪ Put your head inside
My big, black wild while*

♪ I can still help you*

♪ See the snake-baboon*

♪ Funky, chic and smooth*

♪ Honey, can you spy
The divine ape-swine*

♪ 'Cause he can see you*

I...

You all right?

Yeah. It's just...

Yeah. Okay.

Wow. It's really tight.

♪ I'm a man
I'm a twisted fool*

♪ My hands are twisted, too...*

♪ I am an animal...*
- Oh, God.

♪ ...that starts with E*

- Mabel's.
- Ah.

♪ I'm a man*

♪ I'm a twisted fool*

♪ My hands are twisted too*

♪ Five fingers
Two black hooves*

You make me so hard, baby.

You make me hard.

What?

♪ Got toes and I can smile*

♪ I'm crooked but upright*

How did that happen?
I'm using protection.

♪ La, la, la, la
Whoo*

♪ I'm so nine-to-five*

- Hi, Bridge.
- Morning.

I've got coffee
and I've got Ricky Gervais's

requests for today's show.

- Seriously?
- Yeah.

- It's big.
- Yeah.

- A relaxation corner.
- Uh-huh.

Three full-length mirrors.

And he'll only use La Mer
for some reason?

I know.

- Ooh. Three, please.
- Three.

Did you have sex last night?

What? No.

♪ Won't you take a hold of me*

Sam! Ricky Gervais is
on his way in.

And, apparently, he won't drink
Evian, only Icelandic water.

And it's got to have lots
of alkalines.

Or no alkalines.

Um...

Did you have sex last night?

What? No!

♪ La, la, la, la*

God!

Tape measure, please. Quick.

The cushion can't be more than
40 centimetres from
the floor for Ricky.

Did you have sex last night?

Yes. I did. Okay?
I did.

I had a full night
of utterly mind-blowing sex

with a tree-rescuing rubbish
expert Adonis who might
be slightly younger, probably.

And it was amazing!

Okay?

So what?

♪ Lost in romance*

♪ Let's just dance, ooh*

♪ Shake it till the pearls
Get lost*

♪ La, la, la, la*

Am not only mother
and sexual being,

but also capable working woman
at the top of her game.

So take that, Chloe.

I've done the macaroni
and cheese, but with butternut
squash instead.

It's in the bottom oven.
Just needs to move to the top
in about 20 minutes.

Good. Good. Right.

It's just how I would do it.

Um... Oh, Chloe,

uh, it would be really helpful

to have their water bottles done
the night before.

In the fridge. Top right.

Where the expired milk was.

Oh, great. Great. Um...

Billy will need something extra
for snack tomorrow.

- He's got--
- Cricket, yeah.

In a snack bag. Labelled.
By the bread bin.

- We have a bread bin?
- I have to leave, I'm afraid.

Graham and I have tai chi
on Thursdays.

6:45 sharp, but earlier
to get the spot you want.

Oh. [chuckles] 'Course.

You and Graham enjoy
your tai chi.

Oh, you forgot to leave out
Billy's cricket things,

but never mind. I'll do it.

Bag packed by the door.

Nevertheless,

secret to calmer,
happier parenting:

one-night stands.

Although,
it wasn't just one night.

Brought a pie.

Hmm.

That was funny.

And so,
a moment turned into a date,

which turned into a kiss.

Which turned into a night.

♪ Ooh*

♪ What a wonderful thing...*

And the night
turned into a summer.

♪ I can see
You standing there now*

♪ And you're
The prettiest thing*

♪ In the crowd*

♪ And guess who
Be laughing loud, but me*

♪ You made me see the love*

♪ That you're giving me*

♪ Baby...*

♪ Won't you hold my hand?*

♪ Just let me know that
I'm your man*

♪ And show I'm not ashamed*

♪ I walk the floor*

♪ When you leave me*

♪ Hey, baby*

♪ I don't know about you*

♪ Let me tell you what
I'm gonna do*

♪ I'm gonna try to make
My dreams come true*

♪ With you*

Morning. Welcome back.

- Good morning, Mr Walliker.
- Morning.

- Morning.
- Mrs Darcy.

How were
your summer holidays?

I have a new daddy now.

His name is Roxster,

and he always gives Mummy

a funny hairstyle in
the morning.

Yes, well.
It's not that funny,
is it, Mabel?

It is.

He's not a new daddy.
He's just someone.

Off you go.

Well, it seems congratulations
are in order.

You!

- No. You two. Come on.
- Bye, Mum. See you soon. Bye.

Bisous, bisous, bisous.

Bridget, I emailed you
from Anguilla about, um--

Jobs Day, yes. I come prepared.

I must say,
it's a welcome change,
all... this.

Thank you.

All right, everyone.
Settle down.

Settle down. Thank you.

Um, so...

Last term, Daveed's dad
was kind enough to talk to us

about being a thoracic surgeon,

and next week,
Eugenie's mum will be in

to talk about her role
as a nuclear physicist,

and how it felt to win
the Nobel Prize.

But today, it's Billy's mum.

So, everyone, give a warm
welcome to Mrs Darcy.

Hello.

Um.

I am a television producer.

My mum says television
is making society rot.

Yes. Well, thank you, Priscilla.

OK.
May we have a volunteer?

Thank you, Esmeralda.

Right.

You can stand here.

Very good.

And you are going to
say things like,

"Ten seconds to air!"

And I am going to be
the interviewer for the day.

Now...

Just...

Right. OK.

Perhaps Mr Walliker could be
the person being interviewed.

Take a seat.

Uh, righto.

Now, topic.

The life cycle of
the fruit fly. Hmm?

Right, OK.

Ooh. Ten seconds to air!

Hello, this is Bridget Jones,

and I'm delighted to have
Mr Walliker on the show today

to help us understand
the life cycle of the fruit fly.

Um, well, it's a...

it's a pleasure to be on
the show.

And, um, thank you
for that question.

Um...

Well, the, uh, the average...

Thank you.

Uh, the average fly takes about

two weeks to mature

and can live for as long
as 40 or 50 days.

And then,
like all living things,
when it dies, it simply stops.

Cellular shutdown.

It falls, gradually decomposes,

and becomes part of
the soil system.

But does it really end when
it dies?

Exactly, Mr Walliker.

Surely there's more to
the story.

Um, well. Well, not really.

But, yes.

After the body of the fruit fly
stops working,

uh, then the soul of
the fruit fly

will be able to be free, yes?

And that particular fruit fly

will always, in some senses,
be with us.

- The soul of the fruit fly?
- Hmm.

There's no evidence for a soul,

but the body is a perfect system
of electrical pulses,

powered by the heart,
which is in itself

- a pump, if you will--
- The soul, Mr Walliker,

is the essence
of every living thing.

If you think
we're simply bits of machinery

that can be switched on or off,

then where does art come from?

Or-Or wonder? Or poetry?

- Or magic?
- Magic?

The fruit fly, when it dies,

will stay with its fruit fly
family forever.

Keep the interview on point,
Bridget.

This is utter nonsense.

Our world is governed
by laws and fact.

That's our universe.

- And it is rational.
- Cut!

I'm a realist, Mrs Darcy.

I believe in what's real.

Cut!

Off to Talitha's birthday.

Are you sure you're OK
to stay tonight?

It's Thursday.
I thought you
and Graham had tai chi.

Won't kill him to miss a week,
will it?

He's so uptight.

Oh, you look nice, Bridget.

Oh!

Ooh.

Oh, try this.

There.

Thanks, Chloe.

Billy! Mabes!
Snacks on the table.

So where is he?
Is he not coming?

Oh, it's fine.
He must have been held up.

- What? By some sort
of rubbish emergency?
- Oh.

- Probably had to finish
his homework.
- Stop it.

Hope he gets here
before story time.

Shut it!

Come the fuck on, Bridge.

Does this guy actually exist

or is it, um, like that one time

that you saw Brad Pitt
at Costa Coffee?

- It was him. It was.
- Come on. Really?

- Happy birthday.
- Lovely to see you.

What on earth are you holding?

Oh, Petula.

A present to myself

and I already prefer her
to any human.

Oh, hi.

♪ Happy birthday to you*

Oh, here. Can you hold my baby

while I feign surprise at
the cake

that I chose
and bought for myself.

Oh, look! Look at that!

♪ Happy birthday, dear Talitha*

Thank you. Oh, look.

♪ Happy birthday to you*

Thank you.

Thank you all so much
for coming today

to help me celebrate, well, me.

We love you, Talitha.

- Talitha!
- Talitha! Happy birthday.

Beep, beep. Beep, beep.

Binko Carruthers.

Oh, please don't come over.
Please don't.

Beep, beep.

There she is.
The famous Bridget Jones.

So I told Cosmo
I'd take you out for a spin.

How's Friday?

Fuck, no!

Jude, get in there.
Come on, get the fuck in there!
God, help!

Oh, my God. Oh!

Petula, come on, darling.
- Petula! Petula!

♪ I'm mad about the boy*

♪ And I know it's stupid*

♪ To be mad about the boy*

Who's that?

♪ I'm so ashamed of it*

♪ But must admit
The sleepless nights I've had*

♪ About the boy*

♪ Ooh, ooh, ooh*

♪ On the silver screen...*

♪ He melts my foolish heart
In every single scene ♪

♪ Although I'm quite aware...*

♪ That here and there
Are traces...*

- I think this belongs to you.
- Thank you.

♪ About the boy*

♪ Lord knows
I'm not a fool girl*

- Hello.
- Hi.

♪ I really shouldn't care*

♪ Lord knows
I'm not a school girl*

♪ Who's in the flurry...*

Sorry I'm late.
Buses were a nightmare.

It's fine.

Oh, I'm so sorry.

She just jumped out of my arms.

Do not apologise.

Oh, my darling.

Let me help you out
of those wet clothes.

No. Don't you dare redress him.

- You look gorgeous.
- You look gorgeous.

♪ All because I'm mad*

♪ About the boy*

Now that, my darling,
is what I call a rebrand.

Hi. I'm Roxster.

♪ We've come a long
Long way together*

I hope he's up to it, darling.

♪ Through the hard times
And the good*

♪ I have to celebrate you
Baby*

♪ I have to praise you like
I should*

♪ I have to praise you*

♪ I have to praise you*

♪ I have to praise you*

- Hello.
- Oh, fuck off.

♪ I have to praise you like
I should*

♪ I have to praise you*

♪ I have to praise you*

♪ I want a little sugar
In my bowl*

If there is a God,

I'm sure he had more to deal
with that night

than my personal happiness,

but it did feel like he'd taken
the night off everything else

to focus on me.

But then...

I wish I had a time machine.

♪ Feel so funny*

♪ I feel so sad*

♪ What's the matter, baby?*

A time machine.

♪ Come on, save my soul*

In his moment
of inebriated joy,

he had given himself away.

♪ In my bowl*

It mattered to him.

And with that came the elephant
stomping heavily into the room.

♪ I try to discover...*

That happens to us all, James.

Oh, I do have about
60 naps a day.

Well, 60 in the morning
and a nap in the afternoon.

Yeah, but you've got
so many interesting characters
in this show.

So this show is for...

Ghosting.

The practice of ending
a relationship

by suddenly and without
explanation

withdrawing from
all communication.

♪ That you give me
No reason why you...*

The slow unveiling of
reality and rejection.

♪ That you give me no
That you give me no*

♪ That you give me no
That you give me no...*

The casual cruelty.

♪ I hear you calling*

♪ Oh, baby, please...*

♪ Give a little respect*

♪ To me*

♪ What religion or reason*

♪ Could cause a man
To forsake his lover?*

♪ Don't you tell me no...*

Do not text
when ghosted.

♪ Don't you tell me no
Soul...*

Do not text when drunk.

♪ I hear you calling*

♪ Oh, baby, please*

♪ Give a little respect*

♪ To me*

Ghost the bastard back, Bridget.

Just let him disintegrate
into nothingness.

It can be a jungle out there.

Yep. And I'm the giant panda,

sexually obsolete and destined
to be alone forever.

No. You will adapt and survive
like we all do.

I used to be on the cover of
Vanity Fair in a flak jacket.

And now I'm on the cover
of Good Housekeeping with
a pavlova.

Cathy...

where's your special stuff?

HD TV was
an extinction-level event

for the fearless
career television presenter.

I'm about to usher you
into your next chapter.

Lip serum.
I get it on the dark web.

- Is it legal?
- Absolutely.

In Venezuela.

Here, take it.

Adapt and survive.

Adapt and survive.

Ooh. Something's
definitely happening.

It's either disastrous
or totally fantastic.

Mummy!

Hi, sweetie.

Shit.
What's happening to my voice?

Mabel's shoes are on
the wrong feet.

No. My feet are on
the wrong legs.

Silly thing.

Mummy, something's wrong
with your mouth.

No.

No, there isn't.

Yes, there is. Look.

Your lips
are all funny right there.

Darling, don't be ridiculous.

All right, Mabel, let's get
these swapped over, shall we?

Out we pop. All right.

I wouldn't do that again if
I were you, Mrs Darcy.

You looked all right
to begin with.

All right.

You're trying
to look younger

and the effects have marked
similarities to those of
an elderly stroke victim.

You're actually drooling now.

Oh, dear.

Now, acutely aware
as I am of my waiting room

filled to capacity
with actual patients--

not to mention the fact that
I am a gynaecologist

and that particular
set of lips is,

as it were, broadly speaking,
at the wrong end--

I am nonetheless going to
ask you the question,

"Bridget, are you OK?"

A simple yes will suffice.

No.

It's all your fault.

"Twat." Sorry,
it's doctor's handwriting.

That's an A,
in the middle there.

Now, I rather zoned out
after "pyjamas",

but a toy boy is not the answer,
Bridget, and nor are big lips.

You're a widow

with two wonderful children
who adore you.

You're just trying to cope with
a shitty situation.

Embrace the chaos.

That's just a simple allergic
reaction to

hydroxymethoxyphenyl
propylmethylmethoxybenzofuran

in whatever infernal concoction
you've smeared on your mouth.

This is
an antihistamine.

It'll work straight away.

It's for the lips.

They still haven't invented
anything for being a twat.

Hello.

Yes, this is Bridget.

Of course! Straight away.

Yes, yes.

Daniel.

Well, by all that's holy,

Bridget Jones.

Nice of you to come, Jones.

If I'd known,
I'd have worn a tinier nightie.

What happened?

My heart.

Two massive surprises.

One, I have one.
Two, it murmurs.

They've, um, had a listen
and I don't know.

Are you OK?

Well, I thought I was having
a heart attack.

My whole life passed before
my eyes.

You actually featured
prominently, Jones.

- Hmm.
- All the best bits.

Rome. Mini-break weekend.

Sodomy in Sainsbury's.

But, uh, mainly,

it was just me wandering up
and down the King's Road

trying to twinkle
at 20-year-olds.

Mmm.

Perhaps it's an opportunity
for a new beginning.

Brand-new Daniel.

Mmm.

I think I shall stay
right here...

until you agree.

Well that is kind of you,
Bridge, but, um...

they told me I don't have long.

- What?
- No, no, no. Fuck. No, not that.

Well, maybe that.
No, they, uh...

they're taking
me for some tests in a minute.

The question is, would we say
I've become a fraction tragic?

They asked me to put down
my next of kin.

And the only person I could
think of who might remotely care
was you.

- That's very sweet.
- Yeah,
but not deliberately.

The point is, Bridge,
how have I arrived

at this point
in my life with no kin?

How could I possibly be kinless?

But you're not.
You're not kinless.

Well, I haven't seen Enzo
since he was two.

And he is now being happily
raised by his mother

and an Italian aristocrat
who wears his jumper like
a shawl.

So, lucky you, Jones.

Your two,
the way they look at you...

just makes one realise...

one's own fuck-ups, really.

The glory of what
might have been.

Did you know...

it was actually quite good

with Gisele at the beginning?

I have to face the fact...

...that it may have been,
Jones, love.

The real thing.

I still don't know what
she was so pissed off about.

You shagged her sister.

Once. Massive overreaction.

God, I love you, Daniel.

Despite your really quite
impressive

lifelong dedication
to total fuckwittage.

Yeah.

There's a lot I don't know.

An awful lot.

But I do know that my children
would give anything at all

to have just one day
with their dad.

Time for your obs,
Mr Cleaver.

Oh, right.

And, again,
there is really no need

for you to remove your gown.

Sorry.

Okey-doke.

God.

Then lights down on
the cooking segment.

Why do I always have to do
the cooking bits?

That chestnut ravioli
he cooked last time

was the worst thing
I've ever put in my mouth.

I highly doubt that.

And then, Miranda,
you cross to the stage.

"And now, on Better Women,
a surprise guest." Blah blah.

And lights!

♪ Yeah, I'm a fighter*

♪ And I made it through*

♪ Solid gold survivor
That's...*

Hold it!

Linus, we've got to practise
following her with the lights.

So, uh...

maybe you could dance a bit?
Yeah?

- Uh...
- OK. Go, Linus!

♪ So give me light*

♪ You've got to find
Your own road...*

Can you hold that, please?
See, you've got to,
you know, go for it.

♪ Help me see...*

'Cause she's going to,
you know...

♪ And no more light
And no more love*

♪ It's not over...*

♪ It's not over*

♪ I won't save you when
I'm weak*

♪ Only got so much left
To give*

♪ It's not over*

♪ Till I'm done...*

♪ Till I'm done*

- See, Linus?
- Hi, B.

Oh, shit.

Brought a pie.

Sorry, they just told me
to come in.

You disappeared, Roxster.

I know.

I know.

I panicked.

I got-- I got scared, and I ran.

But I want this.

You.

I thought I wasn't ready,
but I am.

I thought I...

I don't know,
wanted somebody my own age,

but I don't.

I love you, Bridget.

I'm ready for all of it.

For Billy and Mabel.

And burnt lasagne.

And slime.

And all of it.

I promise you,
I am ready.

I'm not sure
that matters.

What do you mean?
I don't-- I don't understand.

You're so lovely,

and you're going to be

a brilliant partner and dad.

And you're going to discover

all sorts of garbage that
will change the world.

That's not how it works.

But not with me.

I wish I had a time machine too.

So you could catch up.

Are you-- Are you sure?

I am.

I'll keep the pie,
if that's OK.

Goodbye, Bridget.

Parents' evening.

Is there a worse night for
the single parent?

They call it parents' evening

as if it's a plural.

As if it's a given that
there's two of us.

Oh, well. Chin up and onward.

Mrs Darcy.

It's good to see you.

Good to be back in the studio.

The great fruit fly debate.

Uh...

Small secret.

It was about 50 times
more interesting

than that
bloody thoracic surgeon.

And don't get me started on
the physicist.

I mean, they'll hand out Nobels
to anyone these days.

Oh, yeah.

So, uh, Billy.

Well, he's, um...
he's an excellent cricketer.

- Mm-hmm.
- You know,

he's a very good
young scientist.

He's... he's got a good brain.

He's methodical,
his experiments
are well drawn up.

Look, I mean, it's just, uh...

it's excellent work all round.

- Good.
- It's just this,
Mrs Darcy. I'm...

I'm a...

I'm a bit concerned about him.

Concerned? Concerned how?
What's he done?

No, he hasn't done anything.
He's, um...

He's just been a bit, uh...

withdrawn.

Why is he withdrawn?

Everything's been all right
at home?

Yes, yes. It's all fine.

Everything OK with your, um...

hairdresser?

Him? No, but-but yes. Uh...

He's withdrawn?

Well, I don't mean
to alarm you.

- Sorry about that. Yep, exactly.
- Mr Walliker,
sorry, sorry.

We're a couple of minutes early,
but these sessions are so short.

And I have more than
a few questions for you.

You don't mind, do you, Bridget?

We do have the two boys, so...

Not at all. No. That's...
It's fine.

- Mate, I'm gonna have
to put you on mute.
- Thank you.

Right.
I've got parents' evening.

Mark Darcy, the leading

international humanitarian
rights lawyer,

was killed this morning in
the Darfur region in Sudan.

...a land mine.
The 55-year-old was in

the war-torn region
after joining international
efforts...

Mr Darcy was a leading
international figure
in human rights

and crisis resolution...

...gained global recognition

with the Kafir Aghani
and Eleanor Heaney case,

which, of course, he won.

He leaves behind his wife,
Bridget Jones,

and their two young children,
Billy and Mabel.

More on this story as
we get it.

Dearest darling Mark,

it's your birthday
on Sunday, and...

...I'm just no good
at doing this on my own.

I'm sorry
I'm such a bad mother.

I'm sorry I got caught up
with a callow toy boy.

I'm sorry I'm late for school
and that Billy's withdrawn.

They're growing up without you.

How is Billy
going to understand

how to be a man without
his father?

How is Mabel going to live
her life

having never really
known you at all?

Please forgive me
for being upset

about anything which
isn't about not having you.

Please help me find a way
to do this

without feeling like
I'm ruining the most
important part of my life.

The only part that
still has you in it.

I have to put down how many
tickets we need
for my Christmas concert.

- Mm-hmm.
- Should I put down two?
For you and Mabel?

Put three.

Mabel, me and Chloe.

OK. Three.

Finished.

Me too.

Daddy will love these.

They're perfect.

Yes.

Did you write one, Mummy?

I did.

Tomorrow, can we post them
to Daddy?

Of course we can.

And Mark's birthday
came as it always did...

like all the celebrations,
Christmases and anniversaries.

All the love and all the pain.

OK. Ready?

On three.

One, two...

What am I going to do when
I get to--

...three.

What I have is what
I love most in the world.

Billy and Mabel.

Just the three of us.

♪ Whoo!*

- Mr Walliker.
- Mrs Darcy.

♪ Darling, you got to let me
Know...*

Billy!

- Hello!
- Hello!

Ready?

♪ If you say that you are mine*

♪ I'll be here till the end
Of time*

♪ So you got to let me know*

♪ Should I stay
Or should I go?*

♪ Should I stay
Or should I go now?*

♪ Should I stay
Or should I go now?*

♪ If I go
There will be trouble*

♪ And if I stay
It will be double*

♪ So you gotta let me know*

♪ Should I stay
Or should I go?*

Have a good walk, then.

Thank you.

Bye.

All right, come in.

Now...

what this is not is a "walk."

We are about to embark as a team

on an orienteering adventure.

- So do you each have
your compasses?
- Yes!

- Do you each have your maps?
- Yes!

Right then,
you know your groups.
Hands up, Otters!

You'll go along with Mr Collins
and Bikram's mum, Mrs Pasricha.

Billy's mum, Mrs Darcy.
You've drawn the short straw,
I'm afraid.

You'll be joining me
and the Ospreys.

Now, this is very important.

Remember to open your eyes
and look around.

This is one of the most

beautiful places on earth.

Enjoy it.

Let's go.

- You sure you're up to this,
Mrs Darcy?
- Absolutely!

I was a Queen's Guide.

Got my Pioneer badge.

I can rope, knot,
splice and lash.

If you need anything tied up,

I'm your girl.

Right then.
Bring up the rear.

Yes! Bringing up the rear!

Up!

We're gonna see
much more water than that.

Up the rear!

Yep.

Make sure everybody's with us.

You can see
the second waterfall, can't you?

Well, those two are together.

Coming!

Hurry along. Come on!

- Give me your hand.
- Wow. So cool.

OK.

Right.

Is there a Wi-Fi password?

Oh, Atticus,
don't be a pillock.

All right, take this tarp

and spread it out on the floor
over there, all right?

Come on.

It's all right.
It's dry.

Mrs Darcy,
could you take that wheelbarrow,

pick up some firewood
for when the rain stops?

Yep.

All right, everyone.
Do your best to get dry.

Ding-fucking-dong.

Whenever you're ready.

Looks like
we'll be here for a while.

It really
is absolutely disgusting.

Burnt to a crisp.

I think you'll find
it's a brûlée.

Come on, then.

Off to Bedfordshire.

Goodnight, Mr Walliker.

- Here we are.
- Sleep well, team.

- Well done today.
- Thank you.

Okay. Night night.

Goodnight.

Mission accomplished.

One barnful
of sleeping children.

Don't get me wrong,
I'm quite impressed
by your resourcefulness,

but who travels to
the Lake District

with a backpack full
of marshmallows?

All parents know the marshmallow

is an essential tool,
Mr Walliker.

Do you have children?

Uh, no. No, no,
I never did any of that.

But, um...

It's funny.
In the back of your mind,

you think it might happen,
and--

But, you know, one day,

you're preparing a test
for a periodic table...

...and you realise
it's the 27th one you've set,

and there's just never been time

to really think about having
anything like a...

like a family in between.

But it's good.

It's good. I, uh...

Well, it suits me.

Mmm.

I see it does.

I mean, look at that.

All of it.

You asked me where's
the wonder and the magic.

It's a good question.

I think it's here.

You don't believe in magic,
Mr Walliker.

No.

Well, I've been thinking.

Mummy?

Atticus is really frightened.

He says his mum sings Puccini
to him when he's scared.

Well, he might have to settle
for some early Take That,

but I'll see what I can do, okay?

Mr Walliker,

do you mind if I sit here for
a minute?

Of course. Sit down.

- Is there anything you want to--
- It's just...

what if I forget him?

I don't wanna forget him.

But what if I do?

Let me tell you this, Billy,
um...

Your dad is everywhere.

He's everywhere.

Right now...

in this moment.

And that's a scientific fact.

Energy is only transferred.

It can never be destroyed.

And more importantly,

your father is in you.

And Mabel.

Billy, tell me something...

one thing...

that you remember best

about your dad.

♪ Another Christmas
Is around the corner*

♪ And I can feel us, darling
Getting closer*

♪ It's coming down the road
And stopping it now*

♪ Stopping it now
Is impossible...*

Can we?

- May we.
- Yes.

♪ I built a snowman out
The back*

♪ It came alive And flew me
Round this sleepy town*

♪ I put an old scarf round
Its neck...*

Careful!

♪ And every time
You kiss me...*

Chop-chop.

One, two. One, two.

May I have
your hot chocolate?

- No. No! Marshmallows!
- Yes. Yes.

Mabel, why don't
I take you to your seat?
Come on.

Is that all right?

- Don't dawdle, Mrs Darcy.
- No.

Show's starting.

Yes, of course.

- That sounds fantastic.
- Yeah.

I'll see you at Nobu at 7.00.

Oh, for God's sake, Victor.

Fucking prick.

Bravo! Bravo.

Thank you,
Eros and Atticus
Soltani-Watkins.

Now, although it's not on
the programme,

we do have one--
one more song.

Um, I happen to know it means
a lot to our singer.

And, um... well, this is his
first-ever solo performance,

and I know he'll
do himself proud.

♪ I'd do anything*

♪ For you, dear, anything*

♪ For you mean everything*

♪ To me*

♪ I know that*

♪ I'd go anywhere*

♪ For your smile, anywhere*

♪ For your smile*

♪ Everywhere I'd see*

♪ Would you climb a hill?*

♪ Anything*

♪ Wear a daffodil?
Anything*

♪ Leave me all your will?
Anything*

♪ Even fight my Bill?*

♪ What? Fisticuffs?*

♪ I'd risk everything*

♪ For one kiss, everything*

♪ Yes, I'd do anything*

♪ Anything*

♪ For you*

Go, Billy!

Bravo!

Oh, my darling.

Daddy would be so proud of you.

I know.

Well done, Billy. You nailed it.

- Were you surprised, Mum?
- Yes.

- Genius.
- Up top.

- So, can I have a sleepover
with Bikram?
- Yes.

- And did you bring my--
- Yes.

Bikram! Nintendo!

Mr Walliker, Billy was...

The whole thing was...

- It was--
- It was magic, Mrs Darcy.

No, it wasn't.

What you've done for Billy...

People talk about moving on like
it means,

you know,
leaving something behind,

you know,
leaving someone you love behind,

but perhaps it's more
that suddenly you see

you can live at the same time
as all the things you've lost,

and that you can be happy
even without them.

And tonight,
I saw my son up there

and I understood for
the first time in four years

that he's going to be okay.

And so, we're going to be okay.

And you did that, Mr Walliker.

It wasn't magic.

It was you.

So, I'll overlook your tendency
to be a little aloof--

Some might call it
condescending.

Supercilious is a good word

and you probably don't hear it
enough, but the point is...

thank you.

Mr Walliker?

We're going to
The Spaniards for a drink.

Um, and if you wanted to come,

well, we'd be there

because that's where we'll be.

Can't be taught.
Can't be taught.
It was unbelievable.

- Mrs Darcy.
- The flautists,
an absolute triumph.

One of the best
Christmas shows I've ever seen.

Christmas shows
don't get much better than that.
Extraordinary.

No, it doesn't.
Don't look at me like that.

- Billy! How did it go?
- Billy!

- I did a solo.
- Oh!

Congratulations.

Come here. Have a squidge.

He was brilliant.

- Hello, Mabel. How are you?
- Well done.
I bet you were.

- Chloe has a video.
- You look lovely.

- There's a video?
- A video?

Chloe? Video?

Congratulations.

Hi. Uh, four, uh...

large glasses of white wine, please.

Wine. Wine.

Oh, house white. Party petrol.

- Bikram's here!
- Your wine, ladies.

- What are you doing
down there?
- Nothing.

- Well, there we go.
- Congratulations, darling.

- To Billy.
- He was wonderful. Billy.

- Absolutely wonderful.
- Yes.

But I can tell you, I...
I knew from his glow
it was a triumph.

No, honestly.

I mean,
once you've tasted success...

You had literally
one song, Tom.

Yes, you know,
my mother always says

if you've got nothing nice
to say, then shut the fuck up.

Your mother's right,
so shut the fuck up.

We should never shut
the fuck up.

Stop telling everyone else
to shut the fuck up.

We can, yes.

- No. Come on.
- Good overtaking.

No, I didn't. That was him.

Mum. That way.

Mr Walliker!

Aren't you coming in?

Well, actually, I was. I...

I wanted to say something
to you,

but it's the wrong time.

You're there with everyone,
and...

I'm better with people about
4 foot tall.

4'1". That's my sweet spot,
as it turns out, so...

Where are you going?

Well, look, I really just wanted
to discuss Newton.

Newton?

I mean, we already covered
Newton's second law, gravity,

in the tree when you were
pretending not to be stuck.

But the one that's always
fascinated me isn't
the second law.

I mean, any idiot can see that
an apple's gonna fall down.

What's it gonna do, fall up?

It's a hopelessly overrated law,
the second.

No, the one that's always
interested me is the third law.

You'll know what that is.

Yes.

Of course. But go on.

For every action,
there's an equal
and opposite reaction.

It's a fundamental law
of our universe.

It's, uh... It's an inescapable
fact of our existence,

and I was coming to say that
you are...

this force, Mrs Darcy...

to me.

Equal and... opposite.

And just as Newton predicted,
it's irresistible.

I see it.

Right now, just standing here,
I feel it,

and it's as real to me as
the things I loved when
I was a boy

and first started looking at
the world.

You see, it's not really order

that we science people
fall in love with, Mrs Darcy,

it's the beauty in things.

The beauty,

to be specific...

in you.

Oh.

Oh, I'm... I'm sorry.

- I don't know what
I was thinking.
- No, no.

This is exactly why
I decided not to come in.

I've clearly got entirely
the wrong end of the--

- Mr Walliker...
- Look, I just want you to know

that this is not going to be
awkward at all. At all.

- Please stop talking.
- With Billy and school.

Let's just pretend this
never happened, please.
Let's just--

It was either that or a whistle,

and I haven't got a whistle,
Mr Walliker.

Call me Scott, for God's sake.

Yes, Mr Walliker.

Right, shake it, shake it,
shake it. No, go mad.

That's it. Now pour it out.

Very good.

Insert one cherry.

And that, my friends,
is how we make a Dirty Bitch.

Christ. That may even be
a Filthy Bitch. Pass that round.

Now, similar but not at all
the same,

the Bad Mummy.

Little bit of vodka.

- Yeah?
- Come here.

Okay, you're in charge.

Is that who I think it is?

So they tell me, yeah.
What do you think?

You have sad eyes,
angelo mio.

Why so sad? They make me sad.

I want to see the smile.

Stop it.

He's 16!

Yeah. Late starter.

Where in Italy
are you from?

- Bologna.
- Bologna.

- Yeah.
- Say it again.

- Bologna.
- Bologna.

Enzo, the kids are gonna watch
a movie upstairs. You coming?

He'll stay.

Boys.

I think you're proud.

Relief, really, Jones.

Kin, as you said.

- Enzo.
- Yeah?

Vieni qua.

- I beg your pardon.
- Okay.

- Ciao.
- Ciao.

This is your hostess

and one of the great loves
of your father's life,
Bridget Jones.

Ooh!

It's nice to meet you, Enzo.

He says it is a great honour
to meet you.

Oh!

And then he says that those are

very, very silly little boots.

You have incredible posture.

You're not Danish, are you?

Well, I can be anything
you want.

It is, isn't it?
I know, and it's working
really well for you,

but all I'm saying is maybe
it's time for a rebrand.

Have you ever thought about
having a pixie cut?

No.

Oh, you have the face for it.

And it's utterly changed
my life.

Nonsense, Pam.
You're perfect just as you are.

Is that a Dirty Bitch?

Steady on.

Oh, yes, please.
Yes, thank you very much.

Thanks.

- Just what
the doctor ordered.
- Me too.

- Always. Take a horn.
- Give me the fucking horn.

- Thank you, thank you.
- Yep.

- Mmm. Oh.
- Mmm. Mmm.

I'll be honest, I don't know
what I'd have done in the past
20 years without you lot.

- Twenty?
- No, it's not. It's thirty?

Yeah, it's more like 30 years,
to be honest.

We've had some fucking fun
though, haven't we?

We have.

Ten, nine, eight,

seven, six, five,

four, three,

two, one!

Happy New Year!

♪ ...be forgot*

♪ And never brought to mind?*

Happy New Year.

♪ Should auld acquaintance
Be forgot*

♪ For the sake
Of auld lang syne?*

♪ For auld lang syne, my dear*

♪ For auld lang syne*

♪ We'll take a cup
Of kindness yet*

♪ For the sake
Of auld lang syne*

I forgot to check.

Look.

Goodnight.

Ooh.

Bloody zip.

Bastard tyrannical dress people.

I've got it.

Thank you.

Happy New Year.

♪ I could go back to
The old place ♪

♪ And write your name
On every blank page ♪

♪ But it's a story now
Just a story now ♪

♪ Just the kind of thing that
You'd say ♪

♪ They say no need to
Look behind me ♪

♪ That I can keep you
Here beside me ♪

♪ To make a mess of it
To make the best of it ♪

♪ It isn't perfect
But it might be ♪

♪ There's a lot of ground
To cover ♪

♪ One foot and then the other ♪

♪ On my way, my way
To somewhere new ♪

♪ A few false starts
Can you forgive this ♪

♪ Cautious car
and just bear with it ♪

♪ While it does what
I thought it couldn't do ♪

♪ I could go back to
The old place ♪

♪ And write your name
On every blank page ♪

♪ But it's a story now
Just a story now ♪

♪ Just the kind of thing that
You'd say ♪

♪ They say no need to
Look behind me ♪

♪ That I can keep you
Here beside me ♪

♪ To make a mess of it
To make the best of it ♪

♪ It isn't perfect
But it might be ♪

♪ Mmm ♪

♪ Treading lightly
Thinking slightly ♪

♪ It just might be
It just might be ♪

♪ Treading lightly
Thinking slightly ♪

♪ It just might be
It just might be ♪

♪ It just might be ♪

♪ Oh, I can go back to
The old place ♪

♪ And write your name
On every blank page ♪

♪ But it's a story now
Just a story now ♪

♪ Just the kind of thing that
You'd say ♪

♪ That there's no need to
Look behind me ♪

♪ That I can keep you
Here beside me ♪

♪ To make a mess of it
To make the best of it ♪

♪ It isn't perfect
But it might be ♪

♪ Like it might be ♪

♪ Like it might be ♪

♪ Whoo, whoo ♪

♪ Might be, might be
Might be ♪

♪ "Have you met Miss Jones?" ♪

♪ Someone said as
We shook hands ♪

♪ She was just Miss Jones
To me ♪

♪ And then I said
"Miss Jones ♪

♪ You're a girl
Who understands ♪

♪ I'm a man
Who must be free" ♪

♪ And all at once
I lost my breath ♪

♪ And all at once
Was scared to death ♪

♪ And all at once ♪

♪ I owned the earth and sky ♪

♪ And now I've met Miss Jones ♪

♪ And we'll keep on meeting
'til we die ♪

♪ Miss Jones and I ♪

♪ Whoa, fellas ♪

♪ And all at once
I lost my breath ♪

♪ And all at once
Was scared to death ♪

♪ And all at once ♪

♪ I owned the earth and sky ♪

♪ Now I've met Miss Jones ♪

♪ And we'll keep on meeting
'til we die ♪

♪ Miss Jones and I ♪

♪ Miss Jones and I ♪

♪ Miss Jones and I ♪

♪ Miss Jones and I ♪

♪ Ha! ♪