(birds squawking and peeping, Gerry imitating them)
LARRY (yelling): Today is the day!
Come here, you sexy little...
Mine.
(oven door creaking)
(tsking and sighing)
So, today's the day!
My novel's published in England.
Well done.
Have a burnt scone.
Margo, please tell me
you know what's happening today.
His novel's being published.
MARGO: Oh, so someone in a bookshop
is opening a box
and putting copies out on a shelf.
Well, yes, but...
Did you expect people would
carry you shoulder-high through the streets?
Well, no, but traditionally,
a family would... most families...
None of you have read it, have you?
Tell me roughly what happens,
and I'll imagine all the adjectives and things.
I've been busy at the market, darling,
trying to rebuild our reputation after poisoning so many people.
Thank you.
(horn honking)
(honking)
SPIROS: Larry, please tell Margo
her religious instructor is here.
LARRY: Margo!
Nun lessons!
Spiros, did you read it?
Yes, the first page.
Why did you stop?
Good Book!
Ah... Pavlos, thank you, at last!
No, this, the Bible.
LARRY: Oh.
Uh, but does it offer an evocative dissection
of adolescent sexuality across two continents, like mine?
It offers everything.
Right.
Gerry! Still looking for otters?
GERRY: I need a female.
(men laughing)
GERRY: For breeding.
What is your big seller?
Well, it was gingerbread men,
but nobody's buying since Larry added the genitals.
Any more threats from your landlady?
No.
But I know she's out there.
Vasilia will always hate you
as long as you let the Englishman woo you.
Hugh is not wooing me.
He's just glad
of some British company, that's all.
(women speaking Greek)
My new novel.
Just published.
(women speaking Greek)
It's about a young man
who struggles to find his place
in British society after...
(women continue conversing in Greek)
(arguing in Greek)
(shouting angrily)
(chuckling to himself)
Rather you than me, matey.
(shouts angrily)
I understand God the father and God the son.
It's the Holy Ghost I get stuck on.
LESLIE: Hey, look...
(mimicking religious singing)
Holy goat!
(Leslie singing, goat bleating)
Jesus would have laughed.
Margo, I explain already:
God, three in one.
Like a rope.
Tell me about life in the monastery.
It sounds so dreamy, and quiet...
(animals calling and birds clucking)
Shut up!
PAVLOS: In fact, we work hard.
Now we make the liqueur from the kumquats.
We add the kumquats to alcohol,
add sugar, not too much,
drink some, sell the rest.
(speaking Greek)
HUGH: Good morning.
Oh, good morning.
The, uh, Eccles cakes are particularly delicious.
I've made it clear to Vasilia that I have no interest in her
and if she threatens you, I will have her arrested.
Thank you.
Oh, try the cheese.
We milk the goats ourselves, rather slowly.
Uh...
Please come for supper.
Let me cosset you.
It's really not necessary.
I hear you nearly remarried.
Sven Lundblad.
Yes.
And so you'll understand why I don't want to rush
into another liaison.
Of course, of course.
In case you hadn't noticed,
in Corfu, nobody rushes.
But they do let themselves have fun.
Did we learn nothing from the Kumquat Chutney Fiasco
of yesteryear? LESLIE: They're for liqueur.
They make it at the monastery.
Pavlos told me how
and it only takes a week or two before it's ready to sell.
That is a fabulous idea.
Oh, well...
We could work on it together if you wanted.
Terrific. Durrells' Kumquat Liqueur.
"Extraordinarily Good."
No no, wait...
"Durrells' Kumquat Liqueur:
Your Pleasure Awaits."
Damn. You are good with words.
MARGO: It's the monks' recipe,
you can't steal it. We're just showing
that spiritual journeys often end up at booze.
Where's Gerry?
Up a tree, in a bush, down a burrow.
Oh, Larry, I loved your novel.
It's bold and delicate and beautifully modern.
Thank you, Theo.
LOUISA: Hmm, but to be practical,
I hear they pay well for those clever rhymes
in greeting cards.
So maybe you should write some of those.
You'd never know you were a bachelor.
That would be sarcasm, would it?
Yes, yes, I picked that up from my children.
That and nits.
Was a very long time ago.
(laughing)
Well, I'll have a sip, but actually,
I've given up drinking.
Extraordinary. Why?
Well, back in Bournemouth I became a little too fond of gin.
HUGH: Ah, well...
mother's ruin.
(clearing throat loudly)
(violin music begins)
You did this last time.
Is he in a cupboard or something?
Yes, he is.
Otherwise, it's too loud.
Well, how long has he been in there?
Oh, he's fine.
It's a big cupboard.
(violin music continues)
Sven used to play the accordion.
That put rather a strain on our relationship.
(shouting in Greek)
(music stops, followed by clattering)
Well, you're either crackers or very self-confident.
Which would you prefer?
MARGO: Did you have a good time with your friend?
(sighing) He's preposterous.
But I suppose he's rather amusing.
Oh, Larry, I've been thinking about your writing.
Well, finally.
Are you enjoying it?
Well...
That's probably the wrong word.
Are you stimulated and provoked by it?
No.
I was thinking, if nobody likes it,
I'm sure Hugh would give you a job at his olive press.
You should be kinder to Larry.
Oh.
He's really sad that nobody cares about his book,
especially you.
I mean I can't even pretend to like it
because I'm a bad liar, but...
You're his mother.
Um, Gerry's not in his room.
In fact, I don't think he slept there.
(goats bleating)
Gerry?!
Gerry!
Roger!
Where could he be?
I don't know, he's hardly here these days.
But away all night!
I mean, he's only 11!
He's 12, isn't he?
Yeah, he's 12.
Do keep up.
Gerry!
Gerry?
Gerry!
(Louisa's voice echoes)
We'll have to go and search for him.
Where do stupid bloody otters live?
In the sea?
GERRY: Roger...
Gerry, where have you been?
It was a nice night.
Roger and I thought we'd just stay out.
(exhales)
Come here.
Come on.
GERRY: I found a female otter!
(others laughing lightly)
Come and see.
Look, Gerry,
you need some order in your life.
At your age...
LESLIE: Twelve.
You can't just run wild.
And you, Larry.
Please talk to me.
Let me make amends.
What can I do?
I don't know... be a different person?
Well, I'm sure I could help you with your writing career.
And how are you going to do that?
Well, I have an idea.
You haven't, have you?
No, but I'm very resourceful, so I will have.
LOUISA: So, it's been pointed out recently
that I may have been a bit insensitive to your needs.
Pointed out by Leslie.
Of all people.
So you can imagine how that makes me feel.
I apologize.
LARRY: That's fine.
Don't do it again.
No! Stay.
In my defense, as a mother, I have to be
ringmaster and lion tamer and...
Knife-thrower.
Beautiful trapeze artist.
Oh, thank you, Leslie.
I was going to say tightrope walker.
And I got the balance wrong
between allowing each of you to be yourselves
and supervising you.
GERRY: Can I say,
I don't think the lions
should be made to do tricks because...
You can say nothing; you need teaching.
And I imagine you still don't even know what 7 x 8 is.
(whispering): Fifty-four.
It's 56.
Ah, Lugaretzia.
You are Gerry's policeman.
Make sure he doesn't leave the house.
At last. Power.
Please understand I'm just trying
to generate enough income to keep us in this house,
and to stay sane by...
well, by enjoying my life too.
Ooh! And, uh...
Let's all read Larry's book.
(groaning) And really enjoy it.
Not you. Too rude.
(knocking) (groaning)
(door opens)
You know, I don't always want to speak to you
because you give the impression
that I'm very much not as clever as you.
Well, you're not, thank God,
because I don't want clever from you.
I want...
support.
And attachment.
And food.
Yes, and food.
And praise and freedom and security.
That's what being a parent is, isn't it?
A promise to make everything all right?
That's the deal.
If you were as clever as you think you are,
you'd understand that a "deal" requires the effort
and commitment of both parties.
You know?
Yours, perhaps?
LARRY: Ignore me.
I'm being an idiot.
I'm just disappointed.
I know you are.
You spent a lot of time and love on that book.
That's why I feel a fraud.
Much ado, from me, about nothing.
This book is the first step of a dazzling career.
And the real reason that I find it difficult to read is...
Well, you're my son, so the sex makes me feel queasy.
That's ridiculous.
Well, how would you feel if I wrote intimate love scenes?
Absolutely fine. Be honest.
...a little icky. Mmm.
But, happily, I have had that marvelous idea
about your writing career.
(knocking)
THEO: Mrs. Durrell, how lovely.
Come in.
Excuse the jars
of local pond life.
Oh, well, uh...
Well, I won't keep you.
Um, just two things.
Theo, would you please be Gerry's tutor?
No. Oh.
Well, why not?
He loves you.
I'd rather be his friend.
I mentioned hygiene to him and he growled at me.
Oh, I'm sorry.
I think he literally wants to turn into an animal.
No, he is right.
I'm not his parent.
I'm letting them all down.
I've been thinking about Larry.
Yes, he seemed downcast.
I've experienced this myself.
Fireworks only go off in the author's head.
Well, exactly.
So I've decided, could we arrange an event
or something where we have readings from it?
Of course.
Greece is a cradle of literature.
I'll organize it.
LESLIE: I'm just saying,
why would anyone want to watch a bloke read out of a book?
Well, to hear it, meet the fascinating author,
ask questions.
(in nasal voice): Hello, what sort of typewriter do you use?
Leslie, why don't you go home and pick some beans.
No, I'm busy labeling our liqueur.
All right, darling.
Ah!
Our genial landlady.
What can I do for you?
He wants you now, but it will not last.
You're talking about Hugh?
I understand men.
Ah, well, do put it in a book
so all us girls can share your knowledge.
I'm more pretty and young.
LOUISA: And now you're making me cross.
You know, I wasn't sure about Hugh,
but now, I think I might give him a go.
(fan crackles open)
Luga, has Georgios the postman been?
Been where?
Here.
Why you want letters?
They bring bad news.
I was hoping for congratulations on my book
via a cheery telegram.
Or a laudatory haiku
from fellow writers. Deluded.
Leslie. The best.
(grunts)
LESLIE: So Larry...
11:00 business meeting.
Oh, yes.
Item number one: sales campaign.
I think we need to go round bars and shops together
drumming up our orders.
No, I think you should do that.
Oh, um, right, it's just...
I'm making the actual liqueur.
And you're doing a fabulous job.
Thank you.
Um, so what are you going to do?
Planning.
Uh, planning what?
Planning our strategy.
Strategy in terms of?
Well, exactly.
Where do you start?
That's what I'll be planning.
(whispering): "Strategy."
Maybe you should pick some more kumquats.
Yeah.
(knocking)
LARRY: Hello, Theo.
What do I have to do to get a drink around here, huh?
Pay ten drachma.
I'll put you down for one crate.
"Theo..." No, I barely drink.
Like the English, I cherish my inhibitions.
You have spelled "liqueur" with just too many E's.
(sighs deeply)
Larry, your mother and I agree
your novel deserves more attention.
LESLIE: Oh, yes,
I've read lots of your book now and it's...
(exhales)
It's really quite something.
Thank you, Les.
Who's your favorite character?
The man.
So, your mother and I have arranged a public event
next Monday where you can read your novel.
Theo, that's so exciting.
I'll start preparing some passages.
Oh, you could try and get some orders
while you're out and about...
Florence, we're having a reading of my book next week
and you're the first invitee.
Are we dim or is this really difficult to read?
FLORENCE: Would I miss
the literary event of the year,
in fact, the only literary event,
unless you count most people's tax returns.
LESLIE: Poetic, isn't it?
Poetry always spoils everything.
(stammering): "Sprawled across the ocean..."
My son Lawrence is having a reading of his novel.
So, I will be reading in English,
but the language is intensely musical--
it's symphonic, really-- so, you'll, um...
HUGH: These are heavenly.
Try one.
"Briskly, she sucked in
"her under-lip
and screwed up her eyes." Mmm.
LARRY: Hello, this is my new book, it's Pied Piper of Lovers.
It's brilliant, and I'll be reading at 5:00 pm on...
Larry, can you help me with this liqueur?
No, I'm busy preparing.
"...the flesh.
The peeled flesh."
LOUISA: Oh, God,
I hope it goes well.
Oh, Larry's pretty resilient, isn't he?
No, no, it's all an act.
And it was my idea.
I need it to work or he'll hate me.
Is it tasty yet?
No, it's not quite ready.
Ahh!
Harsh but promising.
Mmm.
What about me?
Sip it. Sip it.
You didn't sip it.
You know I'm on the lookout
for prejudice against women.
(gulps loudly)
(strained): Nice.
GERRY: Spiros, come and look at my otters.
(Gerry plays a few notes on the guitar)
GERRY: I've been playing them the guitar.
SPIROS: Why?
GERRY: Because Mummy says
Hugh played her music.
But I don't think it's working.
Perhaps they prefer the bouzouki.
(otters squeaking)
Ah, Spiros.
How delightful.
Mrs. Durrells.
Can you help?
I've been trying for a week to find Gerry a tutor.
GERRY: Well, I don't need one!
7 x 8 is 56!
And what is 9 x 6?
(whispering): Fifty-four.
I'm not falling for that again.
Gerry, knowledge is like a firefly,
beautiful in itself
and bringer of light into the darkness.
Spiros, would you be Gerry's tutor?
He looks up to you.
And you obviously know your maths.
Oh, is that right?
I'd be very happy.
You should know that I believe in discipline.
Ah, that won't work, then.
Excellent.
Combined with intervals for joking.
Well, good.
Perfect. When can you start?
Now.
See?
Not such a bad mother after all.
SPIROS: Spell "Mediterranean."
GERRY: M-E...
SPIROS: Mm-hmm.
GERRY: D...
...D...
SPIROS: No. Wrong!
Terrible!
My teacher would have locked me in the cupboard!
This is going to take a long time.
The difference between us
superior Greeks and the Turks...
We did this yesterday.
And we will do it again
tomorrow.
The difference:
Turkey is named
after a big ugly bird who tastes boring.
May I feed my pelicans?
No, you concentrate!
You don't look at otters or stroke pelicans,
you learn as I did
at schools and as Mrs. Durrells requested.
(sniffling)
Oh, my Gods.
Gerry, you are crying?
No, no.
SPIROS: Is it because your otters are not making love,
excuse my language?
No, it's your teaching.
Oh.
You're reminding me
a little of my schoolmasters back in England.
I wasn't happy.
Oh.
I'm sorry.
THEO: Half an hour to go.
Relax, Larry.
What if nobody turns up?
We Greeks love literature.
And you've all invited friends.
(whispering): Go outside and drag people in.
Darling, go and talk to him; he's tired of me.
LESLIE: Who's he?
He's our audience.
Greetings.
MR. KRALEFSKY: Either I have come on the wrong day,
or the room needs to be smaller.
As in Alice in Wonderland.
LESLIE: Yes, yes.
It's a bit of a washout, isn't it?
We'll laugh about it someday.
Maybe not for a while, though.
Do buy some of the kumquat liqueur.
It's got a very distinctive tang.
Darling, darling, I'm sure
they love your book in Britain.
I mean, after all, we never went to a Greek book reading
in Bournemouth, did we?
(groans)
(door opens)
Um, thank you...
MARGO: He's a very good author.
Sit down here.
(whispering loudly): He says he'll stay if there's free food.
Shh, shh... LARRY: Thank you for coming.
Both of you.
In view of the sparseness of the turnout,
let's just call it all off.
But in case I never have another book published,
perhaps I could just say: thanks for reminding me
that art and writing is like lying down in the road
and asking people to stop and look at you.
And today...
I got run over.
(sighs)
Where's Florence?
And Hugh?
Why don't people care?
They don't have to enjoy it.
(speaking Greek)
THEO: Larry!
I've been to the post office.
I thought it was strange you've had no mail.
Oh... it seems the postman Georgios was too scared
of Gerry's animals to visit.
(panting)
"Bravo on your nov.
"Everyone talking about your new way with language.
I'm very drunk, by the way."
"Reviews top-notch.
"Wish you were here.
Well, not here, as I find myself in prison."
Bloody hell. "You clever bugger."
THEO: You see, I told you it was good.
No, I knew it was good.
I was just worried it'd be too good for people to understand.
Now I can work on my new novel,
which will be better than the last one.
Because it's got more animals in it?
No.
Utter villains with horrible plans?
No.
Am I in it? No.
LESLIE: Am I in it? No.
Well, um,
drinks to celebrate?
Hugh?
Hugh!
Hell o.
So you couldn't bother to turn up to my son's book reading.
Why?
I'm sorry, I didn't realize it was so important.
Well, it would've been decent of you.
No one came.
Um, is it too late to change my excuse to:
there was an accident at my olive press?
Many dead.
Olives everywhere.
I know it's selfish, but...
I like it best when it's just the two of us.
Well, you should be aware
that I come in a bundle with my family.
Their needs are my needs.
To be honest, I thought Sven would be there.
I was just trying to be thoughtful.
Well, how were you to know?
It was important to Larry, so it's important to me.
You know, Larry's shell is thinner than you think.
Yamas! MARGO: To Larry!
To me!
("An Evening in Caroline" plays)
Luga,
we're toasting my book.
Toast it, good idea.
No, toasting as in, drinking to it.
And to you and to Corfu.
Go on.
I think I'm disappointing Pavlos, my monk.
No.
You may not be a good nun yet,
but he knows you're a good person.
I think we're all good people, don't you?
Even bad people are good people.
This alcohol is making me so wise.
(birds clucking)
Gerrys!
Come and see.
Hey....
Gerrys!
GERRY: Hello, Spiros.
Look! I bought you a present,
to say sorry for being a bully
and loud.
Ta-da!
Spiros, thank you.
Magpies.
Yes. Magenpies.
No, magpies.
Magenpies, like I say.
Mag...pies.
Mag...enpies.
LESLIE: You'll wanna watch out they don't steal anything.
Awful thieves, magenpies.
Kumquat liqueur, Spiros?
No, thank you, my family are waiting for me so...
Come on.
Okay, just a small one.
Yamas.
Yamas!
(voices singing lustily in Greek)
LESLIE: Listen, I know we're different.
But difference is not the same as divergence.
Not at all. Not at all!
But we get on.
MARGO: Mother!
Drinking heavily is such fun.
Spiros got me some magpies!
(Margo speaking Greek)
(groan and crash)
Ah.
They've escaped.
I've never been good at friends.
I don't know what it is.
Maybe it's my, you know...
Face?
Shorts? Could be, could be.
(laughing)
You're not ticklish!
Theo, you're going to regret this in the morning.
(laughing giddily)
(continues laughing)
LUGARETZIA: I go home now.
(singing in Greek)
(groaning)
(men laughing)
They like my novel!
Where were you for my big moment?
You're never there.
No, darling, because I was...
SPIROS: Larry!
I think the magenpies got in your room.
(laughter)
LARRY: No, that's my new novel!
It's better than the first one!
Give it back!
Right now!
Give it back!
No!
Mrs. Durrells.
This prayer book is
for your beautiful and spiritual daughter.
Oh...
(Margo hiccups loudly)
(Margo burps)
(man yelling)
THEO: Margo!
Theo!
I've never tried this before,
but I'm going to walk on water.
(Margo laughing)
(all gasping, shrieking)
(Margo laughing)
(Pavlos yelling in Greek)
(Margo laughing)
(groaning)
LOUISA: I am too grown up
to say I told you so.
Ah, Theo, can I get you an early morning snifter?
(mumbles) (laughs)
You think you're so funny, don't you?
Well, I'm only catching up with you.
Last night, you all thought you were hilarious.
(Leslie groaning)
(Spiros groaning)
LOUISA: And darling Margo,
I suggested to Pavlos that you might not be quite ready
to take the veil.
Thank you.
I think I like boys too much to be a top-notch nun.
Mmm, yes, I think you made that clear
by inviting him for a naked swim.
Morning, Theo.
(Margo vomits loudly)
(retching)
On a brighter note, I've mended
the magenpies' cage.
I will never forgive you, Gerry.
Those birds ransacked my room.
Half my manuscript's in the Ionian Sea.
Well, then you should've kept it in a birdproof receptacle,
shouldn't you! No!
I hate this house and its stupid restrictions
and thieving wildlife.
Is it any wonder I'm finding it so hard to write?
Oh, you'll blame anyone but yourself, won't you?
And what other serious writers lived with their parents?
Like Jane Austen, since you ask.
THEO: One of my favorites.
Exquisite prose.
The book reading was your idea, and it went wrong.
Because I shouldn't have my mother
trying to arrange my life.
That's the hangover, Mrs. Durrell.
He's not of sound mind.
Oh, I am.
I'm getting a place of my own.
Well, go on then.
Leave.
(lively crowd chatter)
It must be good because I don't understand a word of it.
I can't believe Larry's really going.
I know, and to live above a bar.
Hello, Margo, Louisa.
Hello.
Oh, those crumpets look nice.
Listen to me, I could be back in Harrogate.
Well, you could've had some for free
at Larry's book launch.
I'm sorry I couldn't make it.
No.
Well, that's Corfu for you, isn't it?
So much to do!
Cinemas, theaters,
other book launches.
You can be quite fierce, can't you?
(sighing) Oh, I don't know.
It's probably guilt.
I didn't support Larry,
so now I'm taking it out on others.
(flies buzzing)
Remember to set the float at the correct height,
and do not tighten the nuts too hard.
And this is how you fix a carburetor.
Enough car maintenance, now philosophy.
My philosophy
is that ladies are goddesses.
Except Turkish ladies.
American ladies are too noisy.
But they can't help it.
LOUISA: Spiros, thank you
for your help, but you can stop now.
I'm less strict now, huh?
Let's just say it's not quite the education I had in mind.
GERRY: Mum!
(whispering): What is it, Gerry?
What are we watching, Gerry?
Shh!
They're finally going to mate.
No idea what put them in the mood.
Otters? Women?
Who knows?
Men are always in the mood.
(horn honking)
LARRY: Right, well, you know where I am.
Above Costa's bar.
I'll be on my way.
You don't have to go.
We could start a new business.
I was thinking shoe-shining.
We could buy some brushes and find a pitch in town.
Not really. No, no, of course not. Um...
I'm going to finish your book if it kills me.
Thank you.
Praise indeed.
Larry, we've had our disagreements, but...
can I use your room as an overspill area for my animals?
No.
Thank you.
I said no.
Please stay.
Listen to Mrs. Durrells, Larry.
Stop it. I've got to do this.
You are a good mother.
If anything, I'm too happy here.
The best writers I know are living life in the raw.
One's in jail.
I've never even been in a fight.
So how can I write about that?
Well, you could make it up.
I'm sure Jane Austen was never in a fight.
No, I heard she was always getting into scuffles.
Well, I'm halfway through your book.
And while I'd rather you weren't quite so smutty...
it's dazzling.
I'm very proud of you.
It's gonna be like being a widow all over again.
I'll wait for you to say something
and you won't be there.
(engine starts)
So, this is just as good as your stuff,
and I can give you it at a very reasonable price,
as my business partner and I are...
Well, we're moving out of alcohol sales.
(speaking Greek)
Yeah.
No, no, no, I thought you could pay me for it.
There you are!
I know drink isn't the answer,
but you look like you could do with one.
What's the matter?
My son Larry left home.
He's still your child.
And he's going to find out that he needs you more than ever.
Climb aboard.
Well, I'm not going to your house.
Too many gypsy fiddlers lurking in corners.
(laughing) No, I can do better than that.
("I Can't Give You Anything But Love" plays)
♪ I can't give you anything but love ♪
♪ Oh, baby, oh ♪
♪ That's the only thing... ♪
HUGH: How do you like your steak?
Cooked by anyone other than me.
Ah, yes,
the burdens of parenthood.
Oh, you have no idea.
And if I have any more of these, neither will I.
(both laughing)
Well, consciousness is overrated.
You know, I'd help,
but it's my night off.
(laughs)
Thank you for this.
I've arranged for a shooting star
to cross the sky about...
now.
It'll be along in a minute.
(glasses clang)
I'm too grown up to say I told you so.
Can I get you an early-morning snifter?
Shut up.
Oh, I think you might need this.
(crash, Louisa groans)
So, I have examined the patient,
a female otter-- I can't say it was easy--
and I haven't a clue if she's pregnant.
GERRY: Oh, I think she is.
She's been slobbing around a lot, seems very moody.
THEO: I suspect in fact they have been mating
every time our back is turned.
Well, that's what I'd do
if I was stuck in a cage with a bloke.
Good day, everyone.
Good morning.
MR. KRALEFSKY: So, mon petit...
you must be my victim.
Mr. Kralefsky has agreed
to be your new tutor.
MR. KRALEFSKY: I have brought you
some reading matter to romp through
before...
we meet.
Oh.
Isn't it exciting?
(huffs)
(sighs)
Ooh, Florence!
Oh, you don't look well.
I was going to say the same to you.
Hung over.
She drink too much.
I want to explain why I wasn't at Larry's book reading.
Oh, it doesn't matter, it's...
I was at home, being sick.
I'm having a baby, all being well.
Oh! Oh, Florence!
I've been getting sick for weeks,
but I didn't want to say till it was sure.
Well, no, of course.
LUGARETZIA: My daughter also pregnant.
Lugaretzia, congratulations.
That is why now she is like a witch.
Oh. Excuse me.
(retches)
Has Florence been drinking?
No.
She's having a baby.
The joys of... of motherhood.
Well, some species of shark have a gestation period
of three-and-a-half years,
so, uh, you're getting off lightly.
Mm.
So, you're not the only one with things on her mind.
No.
MARGO: Why is it so quiet?
Because Larry isn't living here anymore.
(sighs)
(creaking)
(crash)
(grunts)
(women chatting in Greek)
Hey, Larry.
Buy me a drink.
♪♪