CHRYED - C & S story 104 (1/2) - Apr 22 2010 - ENG SUB

Uploaded by LightLoo0789 on 25.08.2010

A: Aw, look! Well, look then!
C: Yes, very nice, yes.
A: Aw, the first few weeks it's just a teeny, weeny, wrinkled alien without any eyes.
C: Look, until you wee on a stick and do a pregnancy test it's just a tiny little fantasy inside your head.
A: Chelsea, you're the one who made me realize in the first place. C: I said maybe, Amira. I said it's a possibility.
You know, I didn't expect you to go and make some big announcement, start writing the birthing plan.
You don't normally listen to a word I say.
A: Yeah, but here's no doubt, is there?
My breasts are like bullets, and this morning I walked past Beale's place and felt sick.
C: Ian Beale, chip fat, side order of dandruff, who ain't going to want to vomit?
A: Yeah, but it's not just scatter cushions. The kid on the radio, flowers...
I'm so hormonal, I only stopped crying yesterday to go to sleep.
And I picked up the milk this morning, and no one had even asked me. If that's not pregnant what is?
C: Maybe it's PMT. A: PMT is wanting to throw Zainab out the window and spitting on the grass
PMT is dropping things, isn't it, breaking things, tripping up.
C: Chocolate. A: Exactly. It's the three whole fun size I'd have... and babe, I can't even look at a mini-Twix.
C: So, babe, why haven't you done a pregnancy test?
Z: So, why don't we have a flat warming party?
Yes, you can smile, now you're not all over-tired and shouting because he left the lights on at the Unit.
And you, you can casually let slip into conversation, you know, while we're admiring the artexing,
that you are not one of those men who... who fire blanks. S: Ma.
T: Can I put my arms down now?
Z: Let it be known that my son is a red blooded, full-blooded male with a bun in the oven.
S: Yeah. It could be okay.
Z: You're a clever boy, Syed. And I am very proud of you.
T: Um, can I put my arms down now?
M: They can't afford it, you know. Z: You.
S: Well, all our money is going on sorting the flat. And now we've got a baby to save for... Z: Yeah, little Raza.
S: Pardon? Z: Raza. It's a great family name. Asma if it's a girl.
S: Actually I think Amira was maybe thinking about something more English. Tom or maybe Maisy?
Z: Ah, yes, yes. No. I do not want little Raza missing out, do you understand, Syed?
We have to celebrate his arrival, don't we? We will have a big party. And we will pay.
M: Uh, with what exactly? T: I cannot feel my arms.
Z: My family. I cannot think of a better way to spend what we've got.
And do you know, do you know, that I have not been this happy since...
well since Monday night. M: Alright, Zainab.
Z: Mas. Our family is growing. Like a big, beautiful bunion tree.
We'll invite all our relatives, all our friends, even the ones that we hate.
Oh, Tamwar, for goodness' sake: put your arms down. Go get me pen and paper.
I want to make a list. We'll invite the Beales. And we'll invite Christian. We must not forget Christian.
A: It's... awkward. I mean, I know I've got to. But it's like having a smear test.
Or going to the doctor with a personal rash. C: Look have you got a personal rash? No.
A: I just haven't gotten around to going in yet.
C: Oh, it's not the X-Factor, babe. It's a chemist. You just go in and pick up a pregnancy test.
A: Well it's embarrassing! Me and Mr. Monsoo talk about moisturizer! We have aunties in common.
How can I ever buy cotton balls again once the man knows that I let Syed...
C: You're a married couple. What are you supposed to do, a jigsaw?
A: Okay, okay. C: Good.
A: Next week. C: What?
A: Well if I haven't started by next week I'll get a pregnancy test.
C: But you've told people you're pregnant. Definitely pregnant. Even people you don't know.
Look, when exactly was you do on? A: Ages ago.
I don't know exactly. Two days after you?
C: Oh.
M: Christian.
C: We were so careful! A: Seventeenth of March. 'Cause I've got a spot on you by the straighteners.
C: But if I have a baby by Jack it's going to be related to those Mitchell's.
A: You want my advice? Chels? Chelsea? C: What?
A: If they invite you over to the Vic for Christmas? Just say no. That is a seriously dangerous pub. C: Oh, haha, yeah.
A: You don't think Jack is trying for one of every color, do you? Because I ought to warn Zainab.
C: You know, this isn't funny. We can't both be pregnant. A: Of course we can't. You're not, I am.
C: Yeah, yeah. Because it's just a couple of days. A: Seven.
C: And it doesn't mean nothing. We slept half a dozen times. What's the likelihood of that? A: Half a dozen?
C: What, you think that's a lot? A: No, no. That's not a lot. Well it's not six times in one night though, is it? C: No.
A: Good. Because that would be a lot. C: Look, I don't care how many times in one night.
A: No. No, nor do I. Well he's busy, I'm busy. He's tired. C: I thought you two were sorted.
A: Not everything is about sex, Chelsea. It's about... understanding, laughing, talking. C: Well me and Jack had a laugh.
A: Someone there to give you a hug. C: He's got nice arms as well.
A: Someone there to share your deepest, darkest secrets with. C: What do you like, talk about, like roughly.
P: You alright, Chels? C: Yeah.
A: Uh... I don't know. Anything. Everything. Syed is my soul mate. He's my best friend.
You know, Syed is going to make a really good dad. C: You know what, I'm going to get two pregnancy tests.
C: Amira's pregnant?
Well that's... that's great news. M: Isn't it? C: Isn't it.
M: The next generation. My boy a father. Syed'll learn now.
But the strangest thing, Christian. You know, it's the strength of your feelings. This person you've created.
The lengths you'd go to, to protect them.
Even though they're grown up and married. Even when you know they're weak.
His mother could never see it. But I did. Well the past is the past.
Amira's already talking about a two-bedroom flat, you know. With a nursery.
And that is a whole new tin of paint. Forget about the cushions. C: How long have they known? M: Huh?
C: Amira and Sy, I mean. How many weeks is she? M: Oh. Twelve weeks is the standard, isn't it? C: Right.
Sorry. This paint hangs about a bit. M: You got a problem with it, Christian?
C: No, no, I'm just probably allergic or something. M: To what? Babies?
Oh, you know, we haven't paid you yet for all your hard work.
Maybe you've got a friend somewhere or, or... your mother would like a visit?
Tell you what, I'll tell Zainab you can't make the flat warming.
C: Leave? M: A holiday. You obviously need it, eh? Just... go away.
C: I haven't finished here, yet. M: Oh no, I can finish up here. You've done enough already. Go on. Take a break.
Really. I insist.