Bridget Jones's Baby Page #13

may not have mastered the

fundamentals of melody, or even the

most basic tenets of musicianship,

However, this is the land of

Shakespeare, Orwell, Lawrence. A

land built on the defence of free

speech. This is your opportunity,

my Lords, to send a very clear

message back to any country, any

ruler, any despot, that here in the

United Kingdom we will always

defend and protect women such as

P... P... Women such as these, who

have courageously and selflessly

chosen to risk their liberty and

quite possibly their lives to tell

the truth. Accordingly we

respectfully ask that the request

for extradition be denied and

quashed forthwith.

He is masterful, compelling. He takes his seat. The court

erupts.

JUDGE:

Thank you, Mr. Darcy. The Court

will now adjourn and judgement will

be given in due course.

The Judge rises and everyone gets ready to leave. Poonani

explode in the dock.

SHOOTING SCRIPT.

63

POONANI MEMBER:

Poonani! Power to the Poonani!

In unison they form their hands into a triangle and point

them towards their crotches. Mark turns to his assistant,

PIERCE.

MARK:

Oh Christ, I’m looking forward to

going back to some good, old-

fashioned genocide.

As Mark collects his things to leave, he spots Bridget in the

public gallery.

102 EXT. ALLEY. NEAR TEMPLE. DAY. 102

Mark walks Bridget towards his office.

MARK:

I wasn’t expecting to see you

again, after the ‘events’ at the

Christening.

BRIDGET:

No, right... I understand. You were

very impressive in there today.

MARK:

Thank you, although dealing with

them for the last month has made me

feel a certain amount of sympathy

for the totalitarian dictator who

wants to silence them. There’s only

so many times I can listen to the

resolutely un-catchy ‘Menstruation,

Castration, Liberation’.

BRIDGET:

Makes you pine for a bit of Ed

Sheeran.

MARK:

Who?

103 INT. MARK’S OFFICE. DAY. 103

Mark shows Bridget into his immaculate office

MARK:

So....?

BRIDGET:

So....Mark....

MARK:

Yes...

Long pause.

SHOOTING SCRIPT.

64

BRIDGET:

The gardens look lovely. Autumnal.

MARK:

Yes?

BRIDGET:

Is that a conker tree?

MARK:

Err... Yes.

BRIDGET:

And what about that one...?

MARK:

Bridget?

BRIDGET:

(blurting)

I’m pregnant.

MARK:

Right... Congratulations.

Bridget nods.

MARK (CONT’D)

And how can I help?

BRIDGET:

I’m three months pregnant.

Absorbing that this is something to do with HIM.

MARK:

Oh! The Christening? You mean....

Bridget nods, she looks anxious as it sinks in.

MARK (CONT’D)

Well. This is... Right. If you’ll

excuse me for just one moment.

He leaves the room. She stands there, not knowing how this

will play out.

104

INT. CORRIDOR. MARK’S OFFICE. DAY. 104

Mark heads out into the deserted corridor where he tries to

compose himself.

105

INT. MARK’S OFFICE. DAY. 105

He returns and looks at her, breathes, braces himself.

SHOOTING SCRIPT.

65

MARK:

So. I think... this is possibly the

single, most wonderful piece of

information I have ever been given

in my entire life.

BRIDGET:

Is it? OK. Obviously I have no

expectations of how all this will

turn out. But I just thought you

should know.

MARK:

Of course. And I mean, how do you

feel? are you... happy?

BRIDGET:

Yes, I think so, but my being

pregnant doesn’t mean the last ten

years haven’t happened. So much has

changed, you’ve been married,

I’ve... been on a number of long

haul holidays... Sri Lanka was a

real highlight. A baby isn’t some

sort of panacea.

MARK:

I know that, but, right now, I just

can’t feel gloomy about it.

On Bridget’s face.

BRIDGET (V.O)

GAAAAAAH! How can I tell him now?

106 INT. JUDE’S KITCHEN. DAY.

Bridget visiting Jude. The place is mayhem. JUDE, still in a

dressing gown with a huge cold-sore, is holding the new baby.

GILES is in a business suit, on the phone and trying to leave

for work. He is cleaning sick off himself and feeding the

toddler. Everyone is thick with colds. A Polish builder

wanders through, on the phone having a loud argument in

Polish. Through the kitchen window, another child is bouncing

on the trampoline in the garden.

BRIDGET:

Thing is, they are both so happy

that it just feels cruel to tell

them the truth about the other and

frankly, I’m terrified.

Giles makes his way out of the room.

GILES:

(on the phone)

Sorry Margaret, I am covered in

porridge. What time is my flight?

SHOOTING SCRIPT.

66

JUDE:

That’s the least of your

problems....POPPY! NO!... You’ve no

idea.

She just turns and shouts maniacally at Poppy mid sentence

without missing a beat. Bridget looks horrified.

BRIDGET:

What do you mean?

Jude waits for Giles to leave the room. The Polish builder

shouts again.

JUDE:

I know I’ve gone on and on about

how wonderful motherhood is in

public, Bridge, but I’ve been

lying.

BRIDGET:

What? Why?

JUDE:

Because everyone does. No-one tells

the truth. Babies are GHASTLY. They

ruin your life. Ruin it... PUT IT

DOWN!...

(she shouts at an unseen child)...

You’re always ill, you can’t go

out, you’re covered in a constant

layer of sick, wee, old food and

poo, there’s no time to wash, and

anyway there’s no point because you

don’t see anybody and you will

never have sex again - Giles tried

the other night and apart from the

fact that when he pulled off the

duvet I looked like I still had it

on, I couldn’t feel anything - not

a thing because it’s a wind-tunnel

down there, he said it was like the

Hadron f***ing Collider and as for

my nipples

Jude whips out a boob. We only see Bridget’s horrified

reaction. Jude spoons the boob back in.

JUDE (CONT’D)

Don’t do it, Bridge, or have it,

sell it, and buy a nice new car...

one of those lovely new Minis. Get

out, escape while you can.

BRIDGET:

Thanks Jude. You’ve been - a great

help.

JUDE:

No, thank you. That was good to get

off my chest.

SHOOTING SCRIPT.

67

She gets up to leave and as she turns the corner she sees

MILO, her nine year old boy, throwing darts at Poppy. Bridget

looks horrified, and gives both of them a Haribo.

JUDE (CONT’D)

Let them get on with it, natural

selection.

107 INT. BRIDGET’S FLAT. LATER. 107

The door slams behind a panicked Bridget.

She passes her drawing pinned to the fridge door. She takes a

pen and crosses out Jude’s little cartoon figure.

BRIDGET (V.O)

Best avoided...

108 EXT. PARK BENCH. DAY 108

Dad and Bridget sit on a bench eating a sandwich.

DAD:

Your Mum is going to be over the

moon.

BRIDGET:

You promise not to tell her? I

can’t handle that right now.

DAD:

I promise. It’s probably for the

best in any event. She’s pretty

wrapped up about whether to hold a

referendum over making the A418 a

dual carriageway. She thinks it

will bring in a flood of

undesirables from Kettering.

BRIDGET:

Dad, I’m sorry. Not to know about

the father.

DAD:

Don’t be daft, love. I know dozens

of people who could have been

anybody’s.

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