Four Weddings and a Funeral

Previously, on Four Weddings and a Funeral...

Maybe I only like it 'cause my mom and I saw it

on Broadway a couple of months before she died.

Wasn't so simple for Sophie and Sky's wedding.

- You watched Mamma Mia! - Yeah, I did.

And for a movie that makes no sense,

I've gotta say, I enjoyed it.

- I have a job interview. - Have you ever heard of Andrew Aldridge?

Each of you is more than qualified to do this job,

so I've decided to hire you both on half salary.

- I'm gonna tell Maya tonight. - You sure?

I feel like it's now or never.

- I'm sorry, darling. - We're gonna have to go shopping.

- But you hate shopping. - No, I love it.

- What a fun girls' day we have in store. - Oh, Quentin.

You said that there were 20 pages of my book

that you really liked, and I was hoping that

maybe you would help me turn them into a short story.

Be happy to.

Dearest Craig, as I write this,

my eyes are blinded by tears.

- Kash, yo! My brother! - Come here, man.

- Basheer, how's it going, man? - Yeah.

I have to tell you something.

Zara and I broke up.

She's not coming back this time.

- You were right. - I owed her an explanation.

Yeah, to Ainsley, not me.

- Dad? - Dad!

- Dad's gonna be okay. - You don't know that.

You're alive!

You won't have to work double shifts anymore.

I'm gonna take care of you... Both of you.

Quentin.

Quentin? Sweetheart?

Quentin?

Harvey.

Harvey, come on.

- Go on, go on. - Come on.

I still can't believe it.

He just seemed invincible, you know?

I once saw him fall from a second-story balcony

and walk away like nothing happened.

And he was such a sweet guy.

He wanted to do a pub crawl tomorrow before work,

and now he's just gone.

Yeah, well, that's the scary thing about an aneurysm.

It could happen to anyone at any moment.

I always felt like I was gonna be a famous novelist,

but if I die tomorrow, like, what would my obituary say?

"Latin teacher dies of autoerotic asphyxiation."

God, Ainsley, I... that's not what you thought it was.

I was practicing to tie a tie.

Look, if I died tomorrow, no one would mourn me...

Except for my trainer, Raoul.

Still no word from Zara?

No.

I tried to call and tell her about Quentin,

but it's like she disappeared.

Well, you did spring a secret child on her.

You know, maybe she just needs a little space.

I can't believe you hid a human from us.

I mean, I tell you all my secrets,

like the fact that I don't know how to snap.

See?

I would like to do that.

So, do you guys have all the info for the service on Sunday?

It's a funeral, so dress nice.

- Why are you looking at me? - I told you.

Your options are more limited when you're tall.

I don't think I'm gonna go.

Why?

Well, I didn't really know Quentin,

and I think it would be weird if I went.

I'm gonna get another drink. Does anyone want anything?

- Uh... - No.

Marcus?

Did you, uh, sleep at your desk?

That's absurd.

I slept under my desk on a dog bed.

- What? - Why?

Uh, because my salary was recently cut in half

to accommodate a foreign job thief.

I've had to take on two new roommates to make rent,

and they're in a steel drum band.

- Look, I'm sorry. - I didn't mean to screw you over,

but this is the only government job I could get.

I even applied to be Meghan Markle's decoy.

Well, while I was bathing myself

in the janitor's sink last night, I had an epiphany.

I'm worth more than this.

We both deserve full salaries.

- Yeah, I agree. - Well, good.

Let's both talk to Andrew as soon as he gets in...

You know, united front, state our case together.

Yeah, good.

So, he's coming in in three hours.

Let's just sit in silence till then.

That's not silence.

Oh, there you are, Gemma.

We let you sleep in.

It's 6:00 a. m.

We're just going through the arrangements for Sunday.

Do your parents need picking up from the airport?

Oh, I don't want to burden you with any arrangements.

I'm meeting with the funeral director today.

- Oh, no, no, dear. - It's already taken care of.

We'll do the service at our local parish

and the reception at Ashby.

Oh, on the estate?

Oh, I thought we'd do it here.

In Notting Hill?

This is a funeral, my dear, not a street carnival.

Besides, our family do have very specific traditions.

We'll commence with Sidney reading

the epic nautical poem, The Barnacle's Lament

by Bertram Thorpe-Bloode in 1805.

That sounds boring.

Do I have to go?

Yes, darling, of course you do.

You know, I'd be happy to speak

if you think it's appropriate.

Excellent. We need someone to introduce the bagpiper.

Good idea.

Rise and shine, my lazy, beautiful sons.

- Dad, it's so early. - Let us rest.

- Yeah, I hardly slept. - Kash kept snoring.

I'm not your girlfriend! I don't have to put up with it!

- All right, that's it. - Keep kicking me.

- Stop it. - Stop it.

You should be grateful that you can wake up.

Or did you forget I almost died last week?

- No, Abu, we're very grateful. - Good.

Well, you can tell that to Allah at masjid, huh?

- Tabby, hey. - I did it.

I was so scared, but I did it.

You got that mole removed?

- What? - Wait, no.

I... I just sent my short story to The New Yorker.

A friend of mine, she works there,

and she said she would read it today.

- Duffy, that's huge. - Yeah.

I figure, what am I waiting for?

Why deprive the world of another New Yorker story

to feel guilty about not reading?

I'm so proud of you.

Well, you're the one who made it happen.

Without your edits, I would still be slaving away

at the creative gristmill as I mine the key...

- That's enough, Duffy. - Right.

That's why I need a great editor.

And you're sure you're okay with Quentin's parents

planning the entire funeral?

Yes, of course.

It's how Thorpe-Bloode funerals have been done for centuries.

Well, don't you think the whole thing feels

a little impersonal?

I mean, it's not very Quentin.

Tradition is important in this country.

Do you think wearing a 2-foot-tall fur hat

is the most efficient way to guard the Queen?

No, but it's tradition.

I'm sorry.

I just want to make sure that you're fine with it.

You only get to do this once.

Come in.

Andrew, Marcus and I would like to talk to you for a moment.

We feel that paying us half salary is not fair.

In fact, we think it's unethical.

We urge you to do the right thing.

- "We feel"? - "We think"?

"We urge"?

There was so much "we, we" in that sentence,

I thought I was in a French bordello.

Marcus, do you agree with this nonsense?

Oh, absolutely not, no.

Um, I was just coming in to remind you

you're meeting constituents on Sunday.

Oh. Oh, I'm happy to work on Sunday.

Maya doesn't have to if she thinks it's, uh, unethical.

Mm, Maya, if you find the realities of this job

too overwhelming, feel free to resign.

- No, no. I can work weekends. - I love working weekends.

I was simply asking for fair pay.

Oh, sorry.

I didn't realize you got into public service for the money.

Um, I've got some forms for you to sign.

Before we go, should we say hello to Imam Iqbal?

Anything you want, Abu.

And I hope we can count on seeing you at masjid more regularly now.

Uh, I kind of prefer to observe my religion more privately.

It's very personal to me.

Like when you posted that Instagram

from a pie-eating contest

during Ramadan.

Imams are on Instagram now?

Damn, I've got some deleting to do.

Uh, shall we get on with the real business at hand?

Oh, yes, let me grab my binders.

I'm sorry, what exactly is "the business at hand"?