[grunting, groaning]
Ohh!
- Thanks. - Thank you.
You won't be able to do that for much longer.
Which part?
Toss me about like a sack of radishes.
Yeah, I will.
You're sexier pregnant than you are not pregnant,
and it gives me super strength.
I'll fuck you
and then throw you up on top of the refrigerator.
What will I do up there?
I don't care.
You know how we were talking
about doing the godparents thing?
You were talking about it
because you want to ask that Irish writer dude
that you barely know.
I don't barely know him.
I know him.
I went to the same school as him.
And I just think it would be great
for our child to have someone
of that cultural significance in his life.
In your life.
Anyway, you have to christen a child
if you want to have godparents,
so I think we should do that.
If I thought you halfway believed in any of that shit,
I'd christen it three times, but you don't.
We can't not christen the baby, Rob.
Why? It's bullshit.
You know that godparents have to renounce the devil?
So what?
How weird is that?
A bunch of adults standing around a baby,
pretending to believe in the devil
so they can renounce him.
The baby won't know.
Yeah, but we'll know.
- We don't care. - I care.
Well, why don't we just have a naming ceremony?
Because that is a bullshit
California yoga retreat load of bullshit,
and my parents would kill me.
The best case scenario
is we ask your Patrick O'Heaney to be godfather
and he's like "Okay," and then he changes his phone number
and writes a poem about what assholes we are.
Ohh. I don't know.
I just think there's pros
in raising your kid just a little bit religious.
Like, God is like the best friend of the lazy parent.
Why is the sun yellow?
Because God's favorite color is yellow.
Now go upstairs so I can give Dad a special hug
and make you a little sister.
Okay, well, that makes sense.
I mean, it all comes back to love.
Are you nervous about meeting my parents tomorrow?
Yeah, but manageably.
You?
Don't know.
My dad's pretty hard to talk to.
He's like a piece of granite with bushy eyebrows.
What about your mom?
She's magical.
You'll like her better than you like me.
Great.
How's she doing in the boob department?
Well, she only has one
since her mastectomy a couple of years back,
but it's pretty big.
Oh.
Okay.
Terrible flight.
Turbulence.
Oh.
- Fuckin' Ryanair. - Des.
They sat me next to a Turkish.
A Turkish what?
A Turkish man.
Right.
From Turkey.
Right, right.
Let me just check on the tea.
[mouthing]
Doesn't get any better than this, does it?
- Your brother's place? - Oh, yeah, it's lovely.
He's doubled his money on this place.
He hasn't doubled his money, Dad.
The money doubled itself.
You know, he just sat there.
I'll go and help with the tea.
Where are you going?
- I love Ireland. - You're an American.
I'm sorry.
I was just saying I love Ireland.
Have you been?
I want to.
Ugh.
What've they been doing since they got here?
What have they been doing? You saw it.
Growing mushrooms out of their arseholes on my couch.
I told them I was going to the office earlier,
and I hid in the girls' bedroom
just so I could have some fucking peace.
I had to take a piss into a sippy cup.
[laughing]
Can I tell them? This is taking too long.
No. You're an observer today, okay? Like the UN.
You say a syllable, and I'll cut your hands off.
Whatever happened to that Owen fella?
He was around for a while.
He moved to Africa, didn't he, Sha?
Hmm? Yeah. Yeah. He had to go to Africa.
He was a good man.
Well, I won't be running off to Africa any time soon.
I don't even know where it is.
So, uh, Mum, Dad,
we've got something we'd like to tell you--
talk to you about.
Lovely news I think will make you very happy,
and that's...
we're getting married.
Congratulations.
- Thanks, Mum. - I thought you were going to tell us
you were pregnant there for a minute.
And I'm pregnant. That's also part of this.
Rob: Your dad will warm up.
I mean, Fergal and I are practically--
I wouldn't say brothers yet
but maybe like cousins who are also good friends.
We really bonded when he came with me
to pick out the ring.
And we both laughed when your dad farted at the TV
when Tottenham scored that goal.
Everybody laughed at that.
Yeah, but I think Fergal and I the hardest.
Hey, why don't we ask Fergal to be the godfather?
He's not technically an adult in the eyes of the Church.
What?
He missed his confirmation because he had the measles,
and then he refused to do it the following year
because he'd a growth spurt and a mustache by then.
Also, fuck him. I don't want him to do it.
Your mom cornered me at one point
and asked me where I go to Mass.
What did you say?
Saint Mary's.
How are we feeling?
Fine, I guess. Not terrible.
I mean, emotionally, I suppose, I'm like...
A dumpster fire.
A bit up and down.
Good. Now, I do have something
that we need to discuss that is somewhat serious.
- It's full cancer now? - No, no.
No, it's not that. What it is,
we've been catching up on screenings
that your first doctor didn't do.
One of them is the combined test,
and that tells us if there's a chromosomal abnormality.
What does that mean?
It would mean that there's a higher risk
of your baby having Down syndrome.
Because in a geriatric pregnancy--
Geriatric?
It's just a term.
But according to the combined test,
you are looking at a 1 in 50 risk
that your child has Down syndrome.
Well, Christ.
1 in 50? That's not that bad.
- What are you, a sadist? - Sharon.
No, why do I need to know that?
Because the risk should ideally be
three times as low,
and I am required to tell you that
in case you need to prepare
for a substantially different child-rearing experience.
You know, some people decide
they won't ever be ready for that.
Honey--
Why--
Where are my knickers?
- Uh-- - Where are my--
Can you think up
or make up some good news
for the next time we come in?
Uh, okay.
Thank you.
Rob: Oh. Hey, Melissa, she just came in.
Okay. Thank you.
Where the hell have you been?
I walked to Croydon.
Okay. Is that far?
It's about 13 miles.
Well, if you ever need to do that again,
please let me shadow you from a block back or something.
Okay.
What are we going to do?
Why couldn't you come over here and got me pregnant ten years ago?
- What the hell were you doing then? - Nothing that cool.
Can't I just enjoy my fucking pregnancy?
Why can't I go to the doctor one time
and not get a bombshell
that makes me want to just rip all my hair out?
Every time I see a happy pregnant woman on the street,
I want to punch her.
I know.
And I'm so sorry.
And I don't expect this
to make you feel better right now,
but the fucking math of it all is still in our favor,
even if it's worse math than most people get.
I don't know.
Maths.
Fuck maths.
Fuck each math.
My uncle Kenny has Down syndrome,
and he's a cool guy.
- Your uncle Kenny? - Yeah.
He showed me my first picture of a boob.
It was in a breast health pamphlet or something.
Well, I'm sure your uncle Kenny
was great fun to hang out with when you were little,
but do you hang out with him now?
Because somebody has to. They need more help forever.
Are you ready for that?
Well, no. I haven't seen him in--
But that's not the point. The point is--
I don't know if I'm a good enough person
to be able to look after a disabled child.
Neither am I.
A friend of mine's brother
had Down syndrome,
and his parents were still looking after him
when they were in their 70s.
And then the dad died, and it was just the mum left.
I used to see them in the supermarket,
and she never once looked anything but old
and really, really tired.
Well, who fucking whistles their way around a supermarket?
You know, maybe they went home and smoked a joint
and watched Judge Judy, and had a great time.
[man on TV speaking]
What do you want to do?
Do you mind if we don't talk about it anymore?
Chris: It's not going to happen.
- Rob: But if it did-- - It's not.
Put it this way: imagine you've got
a 1 in 100 chance of winning the lottery.
It's 1 in 50.
Fine. 1 in 50 chance
of winning the lottery if you buy a ticket tomorrow.
Feeling good about your chances?
- No, but-- - There you go.
If you're not going to win that,
why would you win this one?
- That's a good point. - Side point,
the lottery is for mouth-breathing idiots
and should be illegal.
My cunt dad pissed away every paycheck at Ladbrokes
till the day he shot himself in our barn.
Fuck, that is good cake.
Ohh. By the way,
Fran thinks I'm having an affair.
She found the receipts from all our din-dins
and jumped to conclusions,
so I had to tell her I'd been out with you.
- What? - It's all right.
She wants to meet with you and sort it out.
Why? No, I'm sorry.
This is not a good time
Don't be a bastard.
Life goes on.
So man up and talk to my wife for me.
"Spleeny"?
That's not a word.
Yeah, it is.
It is a word.
- Spleeny? - Yeah, spleeny.
Like, if I walk into a room with a pile of human spleens.
Yeah. You'd say, "It smells a bit spleeny in here."
What? No. We said we weren't looking things up.
- Rob, don't-- Ohh. - [phone rings]
Who's calling you?
Who's calling me?
Yeah.
Uh... Oh. Chris.
Fran found out Chris and I were dating,
and he wants me to go and talk to her.
You bellend.
Spleeny works.
That's-- You win.
Yes! Bananas!
[bell rings]
So I think when you consider
everything that happened in the 14th century,
complaining about whether you can find
a socket for your iPad charger, Kiki,
when you're on holiday with your parents--
[phone buzzes]
All right, turn to page 46, chapter 8.
Just read from there.
- Hello. - Hello. Is that Ms. Morris?
- Yep, it is. - Oh, great.
I thought I'd got the wrong number there.
I'm calling because Dr. Harris
did some tests with you the other day.
- Yeah. - Yeah.
There was an error in the results.
It turns out the chances of chromosomal abnormality
aren't 1 in 50, as you were told.
- Oh. Well-- - Mm.
Well, that's-- I mean, is that--
It's actually closer to about 1 in 25.
Sorry about that.
I'm not sure what happened there.
The doctor suggested you pop in
and chat about the option of amniocentesis.
He can recommend an expert in the field.
Let us know, okay? Sorry again.
- Bye, now. - Bye, now.
Oh, shit. Sorry.
It's okay. I've just been sick.
Just excuse me.
Is she drunk?
She was drunk at the Christmas concert last year.
[laughter]
Ahem.
Mr. Norris isn't joining us?
No.
Now, it takes a week to get the test results.
You also have to know that the risk of miscarriage
just from getting the test done does exist.
Ms. Morris?
Sorry. I was just, um,
I was just trying to work out
how I mentally cope with the nightmare scenario
of having a needle stuck in my belly into my baby's neck,
risking miscarriage.
I don't--
I mean, can you say something to help?
You will have a much clearer picture
of your prospects
with the amnio.
Great.
Thanks.
Um...
so I mean, was there anything else?
Is Mummy here?
Mummy?
Jesus, get in here. You're a mess.
Was Dad okay after we left?
Ah, he'll warm to it.
His heart did go out of rhythm, though, afterwards.
He had to take one of his pills and lie down.
Oh, please.
His heart went out of rhythm
because his only daughter is getting married?
- And pregnant. - Yeah, with a baby,
not a wombat.
Oh, yes, yes, yes.
Where have you come from?
I was at the doctor.
Why?
Well, because I'm pregnant.
You know, you go to the doctor when you're pregnant
so they can tell you if everything's okay,
you know, if there's any issues.
You couldn't find out any of that stuff in my day.
In my day you had two choices:
you either liked what you had, or you didn't like it
and you buried it behind the old oak tree.
- God forgive me. - Mum!
Oh, God, no. I didn't.
Just-- Well, that's the way it was.
But everything's all right, though, with you and the baby?
Oh, no! You knock-kneed fuckin' idiot!
Des! Mind your heart!
Yes, yes.
Couldn't be better.
Ah, that's great.
Rob: First,
I want to really, unreservedly apologize
for the way I behaved when we came to dinner.
That's okay.
I probably shouldn't have got quite so riled up.
Well, maybe a little bit when you were shouting
about shoving blueberries up arseholes.
Was it blueberries? I thought I said walnuts.
Well, that's neither here nor there.
No, no, I--
So how's Jeffrey?
Jeffrey's great.
He's about to make his West End debut
with Alan Rickman. Lovely man.
Do you know, he's nearly 70.
Still very muscular, though.
Anyway, Rob,
I'm sure you're aware
that Chris and I have had our little...
internal disagreements.
He's a very tricky man.
- Yeah, but he's-- - Very tricky.
Mm-hmm.
And he shouldn't have kept you for his secret.
because that makes me look like I'm...
like...
It's really hard being married.
Sometimes I just want to scream.
Maybe you should.
I mean, kids scream all the time,
and then they're happy the rest of the time.
And adults,
we try to just keep everything stuffed in a box
that explodes every once in a while and hurts people.
Yeah.
Well, Mister.
I really miss Sharon.
And you're not so bad yourself.
We'd love to give it another go with you guys.
Well, we could get together and scream,
just not at each other this time.
Funny.
You're funny.
Oh, Rob.
Mm. Mm!
This is-- No, we-- Chris.
- What-- - I was just--
I'm sorry.
- Hey. - Hi.
- There's something-- - I've been to the doctor
without telling you
because, um, they rang
and said that chances are higher than they thought.
Sorry.
And sorry I haven't been talking to you.
That's okay.
It's because I can't.
I mean there's parts of my heart and my brain
that I can't even visit right now.
But I want to know.
I mean, I don't know what I'll--
what we will do when we find out
because I can't even--
All I know is I need to know.
At least we can see him quickly,
since there's, like, eight people in the country
- who can afford him. - They say he's the best.
He says he's the best. So arrogant.
He looks like Elton John on his website.
Or like if Elton John had a baby and Kanye West raised it.
He's the Kanye West of Amniocentesis.
Are you okay?
What a smug fucker.
Smugger than a doctor and an architect combined.
Can't believe he referred to himself as "Magic Fingers."
I want to be like that.
I want to be a confident clown.
God, he smelled good, too, didn't he?
Oh, yeah.
What was that?
That fucking needle, though.
Sorry I sent you out of the room.
I would've let you stay if you weren't audibly crying,
you know, if there hadn't been a noise component.
I cannot believe it didn't hurt.
It didn't.
I'll see that needle in my nightmares
until the day I die, but it didn't hurt.
You're going to be a champ giving birth.
You'll just yawn, and it'll fall right out.
Because of my roomy vagina?
Hey, I mean, it's like a cozy little room,
like a laundry room, not like a meeting hall.
- Hi. - Hey.
How are you?
Come in. Come in.
Is Rob home?
No. No, don't worry. I know all about it.
Oh. Okay.
What did he say?
Just that he was sorry
and, you know, it must seem weird.
Silly.
I'm just glad it's all out in the open.
Oh.
You're very kind.
It was just one kiss.
Sorry. What?
I think Rob and I both regret what happened.
Rob and I kissed.
It was just a moment's nothing.
It was just--
I'm very sorry.
Ohh.
[door closes]
I had a visitor today.
Really?
Yeah, really.
Fran came to see me.
Oh, well--
Did you sleep with Fran?
Oh, my God, no.
Is that what you--
No, no, no, no, no, no. She kissed me.
She practically ate a piece of my gum.
The reason that I didn't say anything
is because I didn't want to embarrass her.
You gotta believe me.
I don't know what to believe, Rob.
This has totally backfired. I was only trying to--
Of course I believe you.
You son of a bitch!
Your face.
Oh, you're on your knees.
Oh, that's so good.
I might have got a bit carried away, though.
I asked them to be godparents.
At least they've got money if we die.
[horror movie music ringtone]
Hello.
Yeah.
Okay. Yeah.
Thank you very much.
You okay, Miss?
Yeah, I'm great.
You can't lie there.
I'm just waiting for my fiancé.
- Are you okay? - Yeah.
Uh, the hospital just called.
So it's all okay.
I'll see you in a few months.
All right, love.
Now don't forget to eat.
- Bye, Dad. - Goodbye, dear.
- Listen, just-- - Oh, no, don't be silly.
No, no, no. For the baby.
Bye.
For fuck's sake.
Sorry.
She's gorgeous.
She is, isn't she?
Donovan: ♪ Ah, but I may as well
♪ Try and catch the wind
♪ When rain has hung the leaves with tears ♪
♪ I want you near
♪ To kill my fears
♪ To help me to leave all my blues behind ♪
♪ For standing in your heart
♪ Is where I want to be...