Call the Midwife s04e08 Episode Script
Series 4, Episode 8
'What do we see when we look in the mirror? 'Our truest selves? 'Or a faint approximation of someone we'd rather be? 'The mirror sees it all.
'Our fears, our little triumphs, and keeps our secrets, 'holds our disappointments in.
' Nuns are supposed to be frugal.
~ Maybe I shouldn't have bought cut flowers.
~ It's only a few dahlias! They might think I'm extravagant.
Maybe I should have bought a pot plant instead.
They've invited us to tea to celebrate our news.
~ You don't have to give them anything.
~ But, Fred, it's an honour.
People like them inviting people like us.
You'd understand if you was a woman.
If I was a woman, we wouldn't be engaged.
Fred! I'm nervous.
Don't be.
It's just one big, happy family.
It's not working, Sister Evangelina.
Oh! I think the chimney must be blocked.
Blocked, no doubt, because of a certain handyman's negligence.
Pass me the poker.
I think it likely it is trammelled by a bird's nest.
According to its species, doom of several aspects might ensue.
I should shudder more were it to prove a jackdaw.
Or a magpie.
It's probably a stork with a slightly singed backside.
Oh! Ugh! Fred should have had this chimney swept in September when we didn't need a fire, instead of mooning about like Billy Bunter struck by Cupid's dart.
Fred.
Mrs Gee.
It's so good of you to come and share your happiness with us.
It's good of you to invite us.
Oh, dahlias, how very extravagant! ~ Excuse me, what's that? ~ It's an engagement cake.
Decorated with buttercream and crystallised violets.
A sort of pun on Mrs Gee's first name.
I meant underneath it.
It's, um, silver board.
It's a silver board that went under my engagement cake.
~ I thought it had been thrown out.
~ Why would we do that? ~ It cost 2 and 11.
~ Don't worry, Trixie.
I'm sure it won't bring them bad luck, or anything.
This little piggy went to market.
This little piggy stayed at home.
This little piggy had roast beef.
And this little piggy had none.
And this little piggy went "Wee, wee, wee," all the way to Walton-on-the-Naze to see his grandparents.
~ Camilla, can we steer clear of the W word? ~ What, Walton-on-the-Naze? No, wee-wee.
~ He's going to get confused and we've two hours' drive ahead of us.
~ Sorry.
I'm aware there are better times for me to be going off to do a fortnight's course at the London.
But we've made great leaps forward with this little lavatory seat.
~ Simple pleasures, eh? ~ Have faith.
He'll be running for gold at the potty Olympics in no time.
Come here.
Camilla? You've forgotten something.
Good Lord.
~ I love you.
~ I love you.
Oh Peter! Peter! ~ May you both be happy always.
~ Thank you.
So, have you established a date for these nuptials, Mrs Gee? Well, it won't be far off.
My son lives in Plymouth and he's due some leave from the Navy, so I'd like it to be then.
What about your daughters, Fred? Oh, Dolly and Marlene? Dolly's moved to Australia.
~ She'd have only just got the letter.
~ Oh, I thought she lived in Canada.
No, that's Marlene.
She's back home now.
She's settled in Birmingham.
I imagine she's already browsing the catalogue for outfits.
~ We haven't heard anything yet, have we? ~ I'm sure we will.
Nurse Noakes! You are restored to us! Ah! And you have come supplied.
Which is just as well for we have guests of uncommon appetite today.
I'm frightfully vexed at being late.
I was rather hoping for a morsel of pork pie.
Dost thou think that because thou art virtuous there should be no more cakes and ale? Sorry, Sister Monica Joan.
It's my mother's ashes.
They are of comfort to you perhaps.
Yes, and no.
Let's not take her to the party.
She was such a stickler for etiquette.
She'd never go anywhere without an invitation.
~ Long time no see, Maureen.
~ Hello, Carole.
How's life since you got rehoused? I swear, that tower block wobbles when it's windy.
~ What are you doing here, dare I ask? ~ In the family way again.
They reckon there's going to be a pill soon that can stop it happening.
~ There's a pill for everything nowadays.
~ Is Ted pleased? ~ Over the moon.
He's away now, though, at sea.
~ Oh, of course.
I'd forgotten.
Baby Cohen, Baby Kelly, Baby Singh, Baby Prichard.
Doctor's been delayed so the vaccination appointments have all been put back by half an hour.
~ Sorry, ladies.
~ I may as well feed him here.
He's ever so obliging.
He never minds if it's cold.
You'd be a fool to feed them fresh, really.
Listen to what's in this.
Macaroni, bacon, and tomato.
Nurse! Nurse! Hello, my love, you all right? All right, fellas? Hello, darling.
Morning.
~ Talk about a sight for sore eyes.
~ Marlene! I'm hardly the Avon Lady, Dad.
Although, judging by the smell of you, she's been here already.
Oh, it's only a bit of Old Spice.
Got to keep the standards up now.
~ Did you get the letter, about my lady friend? ~ Yes, Dad I did.
I'll take this away, if the moment has passed.
Nothing brings on sickness faster than staring at the empty bowl.
A tea leaf in my tea brought it on this morning.
I've been like this since I missed my first monthly.
If I was a gambling woman, I'd put five bob on a girl.
I've rinsed out Mrs Gadsby's handbag and brought her a nice cup of tea.
Thanks.
~ Would you mind just putting it over there? ~ Of course.
Would you like a Polo mint? I've got some in my pocket.
~ I didn't hear that.
~ Yes, please.
Mind over matter.
And Polo mints.
That's what'll get you through this.
~ Knock knock! ~ Come in.
Poor thing.
Have you got a hangover? How could I be hungover? I haven't even been to bed yet, let alone had anything stronger than Bournvita.
I got rather a shock when I realised Nonnatus House had moved on from Horlicks.
Still, the bathroom smells just the same.
Palmolive and Izal.
The girls at the mother and baby home use Lux.
Whatever are you doing? Applying a protein mask.
My complexion appears to be at the crossroads of youth and old age.
This morning, I found the beginnings of a pimple.
And a line beneath each eye.
I don't even look in the mirror with my glasses on.
My whole face is sort of sliding downwards, like a rather exhausted blancmange.
Do you suppose it would be as effective to take on the protein in the form of, say, a fried egg sandwich? Or some custard? No.
Yours is the one without the spoon.
No sugar cos you're sweet enough.
She's keeping your dust down, at any rate.
I don't have Violet coming around here doing my housework, Marlene.
She's got a business to run and a home of her own.
Where does that leave you, Dad? Well, I've handed notice on this place, so when we're married, I'll move in with her.
I thought she'd come and live here.
Well, she lives over her shop.
~ It would be a bit handier.
~ Well, handy for who? ~ Marlene! I knew you hadn't thought this through, Dad.
That's why I brought an overnight bag, so I can stay here until you do.
Mater would thoroughly approve of this.
She always wanted me to slenderise.
Then, when she was dying, she pushed a plate of scones towards me and said, "Camilla, look after your face.
"The other end's for sitting on, nobody will ever see it.
" It's her anniversary coming up.
I'm going to scatter her ashes in commemoration.
Somewhere where she was happy.
I can't take them back to India.
And they'd take a rather dim view of it all in the food hall at Fortnum & Mason.
Burnt cinder crunching underfoot.
The truth is I haven't the first idea where to put her.
She floated through life like a beautiful scarf.
Or a trace of perfume.
I'm not sure anywhere left its mark on her.
Or, indeed, vice versa.
Hello, midwife calling.
I see someone's dashing away with the smoothing iron.
Sorry.
Yes, I'd absolutely adore one.
Bourbons, my favourite.
Did you have regular checkups with your old GP? Forgive me.
When was the last time you saw your doctor? Dr Cartmell .
.
Manchester.
Hello, beautiful.
Apologies, Nurse.
I did promise her I'd be home before you got here but the chief clerk wouldn't let me go.
I'm Kevin Dillen.
Nurse Franklin.
Do you speak sign language, Mr Dillen? The minute I clapped eyes on June, I made up my mind to learn sign language, and learn I did.
She says I won't win any prizes, but I'm OK.
Oh! And did Mrs Dillen's husband translate adequately? We had a certain amount of fun and games with "cervix" and "vagina".
But, all in all, I think we did quite well.
I explained how we'd help her with her home delivery, and she seemed frightfully keen especially when I said her husband could stay with her.
Can you pass the pickles, please, Barbara? We've been through this, time and time again.
There is no need for a man to be in the delivery rooms! We don't even need them to boil water, so many people have got immersion heaters.
Nurse Crane, do you have a view? I've seen it done once, in an artistic family in Leeds.
Suffice to say, there was a fainting episode.
And it wasn't the mother.
Well, June's husband doesn't look like a fainter to me.
He seems extremely sensible.
And if he's the only person who can communicate with her, ~ she's going to need his help when the baby's born.
~ And so will we.
I learned some sign language, when I helped with the Girls' Brigade, and I can teach a little to Trixie.
But June needs at least one person who truly understands her, and that person happens to be the father of her child.
I rather think that Nurse Franklin is right.
~ Do you want to hear my news? ~ You've given it quite the build-up, I'm rather afraid it's going to disappoint.
~ They're knocking down the nurses' home.
~ Really? ~ Well, half of it.
Those of us who volunteered to move out and find private digs will be given a rent allowance.
And I've put my name down.
Oh, Delia, you don't want to end up in some filthy hole, ~ living cheek by jowl with a lot of students.
~ No, I don't.
I want to live in a spotless flat with you.
Say you will, Pats.
Think of the fun we'd have.
Think how we'd wave each other off each morning, and then come home and close the door at night.
And how we'd talk and talk, and maybe get a record player.
It would be so easy.
Would it? Are you sure there aren't any rules saying you can't? No, there aren't, I checked.
Are there any saying you can't? I don't have to live at Nonnatus, it was offered to me as a sort of perk.
Lots of girls share flats.
Not even a nun would bat an eyelid.
Good morning, madam.
I'm your fiance's daughter.
Marlene Dooley, nee Buckle.
You remember me? Yes! Yes, I do.
~ Oh, what a lovely surprise.
~ Good.
Because I ain't come in for two yards of knicker elastic.
I used to come in here with my mum.
Hair ribbons, mostly.
She was hard-pressed to keep me and Dolly looking nice, but she made a point about ribbons.
Even during the war.
Blue for your sister, and yellow for you.
Cigarette? I don't care for smoking in the shop.
The smell clings to the wool, and I'm not convinced it comes out in the wash.
These are mentholated.
Quite a pleasant aroma.
My dad always said no woman could ever take my mother's place.
And he's absolutely right.
And no man could ever replace my husband.
You were quite a double act, you and Mr Gee.
Him with his tripe shop, and you with this.
We worked hard.
It's what you do when you want to get on.
Shame my dad never took a leaf from your book.
Still, he knows a steady business when he sees it.
Proper little gold mine.
That was the phrase he used.
I believe he's moving in here after you've done the deed.
It was what we discussed, yes.
I wish I could say I was surprised.
But he's always had an eye for the main chance, my dad.
~ Good morning, Mrs Becker.
Your dress shields have arrived.
~ Oh, good.
I'll leave you to your clientele.
And, by the way, it was the other way around.
~ What was? ~ Hair ribbons.
Dolly's were yellow.
Mine were blue.
My dad used to say, "Sky-blue, "like your mother's eyes.
" As this is the first in a new series of classes, Sister Mary Cynthia has set up a suggestions box so you can inform us of our shortcomings.
Comments on the refreshments are not encouraged.
Mr and Mrs Dillen, how nice to see you both.
Oh Hello.
You can lie here.
You're welcome.
Excuse me, what's going on here? ~ June uses sign language to communicate.
~ I don't mean that.
I mean, what's her old man doing here? ~ If I'd known men were invited, I'd have brought mine, too! ~ Me, too! I'm sure we don't want to distract anyone from honest toil.
I have got to take a load of book-keeping home with me tonight, ~ make up for lost time.
~ It's a shame my Jack can't do the same but he can hardly unload crates of bananas in the parlour.
Don't worry, everyone's lovely.
I'm not stopping.
The chimney at Nonnatus is still giving gyp.
Only I was passing the baker's and they put a tray of meringues out and I know you love 'em.
~ Yes, I do.
~ They came out a little bit squashed, so they were selling 'em two for the price of one.
See you tomorrow morning for our little constitutional.
Cor.
We'll be papering the parlour with that lot.
Why do you want to move into a flat? Aren't you happy here? I'm as happy as I've ever been in my life.
But there is something that I find hard to acknowledge.
I have a dark secret.
I've never lived independently.
I've never paid a bill or bought a pint of milk or put up a bookshelf in my life.
I have a dark secret too.
Neither have I! Miss Mount, you will still join us for lunch each day? Of course.
A small amount of change is good for a community.
Too much isn't.
Besides, you'd be missed.
I've added a little bit of sugar.
Even a few sips will help.
No, I can't.
I'm sorry.
Oh, don't be.
One of the reasons we make booking-in visits is to make sure all is well and, clearly, it isn't.
Have you managed to prepare any food for Neil today? I've given him Farley's rusks, but he don't like them dry and I can't ~ I can't face boiling m ~ Milk? Is there someone close by who can who can call in each day and help? Your mother, perhaps? She's over in Bermondsey.
~ We don't speak.
~ What about your husband? He's in Wormwood Scrubs, love.
Doing three years for burglary.
Doctor has a very busy round today - I really don't think he can visit just for morning sickness.
Oh, this is more than morning sickness, Mrs Turner.
Maureen's been vomiting all day long.
Tell her to pop into clinic next Tuesday.
It's probably all nerves.
I'm sure Doctor will be able to reassure her.
I love it when you don't wear a hat or a scarf and the sun gets the chance to shine down on your hair.
Shame it don't get a chance to shine down on mine, eh? I had an interesting chat in the shop yesterday about hair.
~ Hair ribbons.
~ Did you? Who with.
Marlene.
I'm sorry, Violet.
Marlene can be a right madam when she has a mind to be.
I wouldn't have said she was being a madam.
I would've said she was trying to be honest.
Honest? What do you mean honest? She's talking codswallop.
It's not even true codswallop.
Fred, have you or have you not made any provision for your old age? I'm looking into setting up a mushroom farm.
And I haven't given up on fireworks altogether.
Well, none of them's exactly what you'd call a little gold mine, ~ though, is it? ~ No.
Fred, why did you ask to marry me when we could've just stayed friends? I've got loads of friends - well, mates - and acquaintances.
~ I haven't had a missus for nearly 20 years.
~ And you're getting on a bit.
Well, old.
Whichever way you want to put it.
Well, yeah, I'm no spring chicken, but then again, neither are you.
We can look after each other now, can't we? I don't need anyone to look after me, thank you very much.
And if you do, well ~ Fred, I'm not sure that you're doing this for the right reasons.
~ I I'm doing this because I thought we fitted together.
~ I thought you were missing things and so was I.
~ Exactly.
Let's put an end to this.
We're too old to make mistakes.
Morning, Fred.
This'll cheer you up.
Mum always used to say the smell of bacon made a house a home.
We'll have people and prams coming in single file, please.
This isn't the chariot race in Ben Hur.
Thank you.
I'll call in and collect the registration form.
Yes! Since when is this hall your personal wastepaper basket? I'm sorry, Sister.
I was just pleased.
I managed to find a council nursery space for Maureen Gadsby's ~ little boy.
~ Oh, you have, have you? I decided that if her problem really was nerves, with more rest and more support, she might find her sickness resolves.
Well, it's hardly scientific, but it is full of compassion and common sense.
And much of the time, that's all a midwife needs.
You'll do.
Now, go and lend a hand at the weighing table and put that in the bin.
I feared you had not yet succeeded in your task.
I looked for a lightness about you, the sense of a burden gone.
~ But I could not perceive it.
~ No? Sister Julienne's given me permission to keep the ashes here, until I decide what to do.
It didn't seem quite right keeping her under my bed, like a pair of slippers.
I shall be eternally glad when I am transmogrified.
The burden of the flesh is so heavy.
It is no marvel that the soul feels trapped.
Sister Monica Joan, I rather suspect .
.
if anything's trapping poor Mater, it's me.
Then you must release her.
I know.
But where? It's the last thing I'll ever do for her.
I have to make sure everything's top-notch and tickety-boo.
All done properly.
Or or never let go.
Maureen? It's Nurse Gilbert.
Maureen? Oh, Maureen! Maureen, you need to see a doctor.
And this time, he's going to come to you.
Nonnatus House, midwife speaking, how may I help you? 'H-hello, this is Kevin Dillon.
'I think June's labour's just started.
' Dillon.
Of course, the little deaf and dumb lady.
I shall dispatch her personal midwives.
And how many times a day do you vomit? Let me put a little Vaseline on your lips, Maureen, to soothe them.
I'll be running some blood tests and some urine tests.
But I don't need either to see that you're extremely dehydrated.
People keep saying it's my nerves.
It seems to me that you have a condition called hyperemesis gravidarum.
It's rare, but very debilitating.
Will I lose it, Doctor? The baby? Babies are tough little things, Mrs Gadsby.
But if we can't sort out some fluids, we're more likely to lose you.
I'm sorry, June.
Can you tell her I don't think things are on the move just yet? Not ready yet.
I know, I know, it's disappointing.
~ False alarm, I'm afraid.
~ Oh.
Baby will come soon, just not today.
Tell me, June.
You can tell me.
She says, "I want to meet my baby.
" She says, "I thought I would meet him tonight.
"I feel him kick.
"I feel him turn inside of me.
"I put my hand here, "here where I feel his fist, or his foot.
"And we are one.
" She says, "Will we understand each other when he's born?" "If he's like you, "I have no voice for him to hear.
" "And if he's like me ".
.
he'll live in silence.
" She says, "I need to hold him.
"I want to look into his face, "because, until I do, "I won't know how to tell him "that he's loved.
" Oh, goodness me, Sister Monica Joan.
You look like Mrs Hiawatha all wrapped up like that.
I would respond in verse, but my brain is too jellied to recall the scantest couplet.
And I doubt Minnehaha would be obliged to secrete a bottle of hot water underneath her scapula.
It is frightfully nippy.
I might get you a vest after luncheon.
The boiler has died.
From inattention.
I may yet suffer the same fate.
Has Fred stopped coming altogether? He has not been seen since his liaison with the haberdasher wilted on the vine.
He must be distraught.
He would be more so if he could see the tinge of blue upon my hands.
I've come to take your blood pressure, Maureen.
What's happened to Neil? Did Nurse Gilbert take him to the nursery? She did.
And they agreed he could stay until five o'clock.
To give us time to make arrangements with social services.
Social services? Oh.
Maureen, he needs to be looked after while we take care of you.
The foster mother we've found for him is lovely.
Foster mother? I'm his mother.
He cries for his dad already, I don't need him crying for me too.
He can't do without me for weeks and weeks.
He can't.
I promise you, children are more resilient than you think.
What does "resilient" mean? It means strong.
I wish I was resilient.
Cos if I was, Neil wouldn't have to be.
MUSIC: "Little Things Mean A Lot" by Kitty Kallen Blow me a kiss from across the room Say I look nice when I'm not What ho, Fred? .
.
Touch my hair as you pass my chair Little things means a lot Give me your arm as we cross the street Call me at six on the dot A line a day when you're far away Little things mean a lot .
.
Don't have to buy me Diamonds or pearls Champagne, sables and such What if I go past one of the Cubs? It makes an utter nonsense of everything I've told them during cycling proficiency.
What's the alternative? Me with the mop across my shoulders and the buckets hanging from each end of it, like a milkmaid? Why not? It'd be much safer and you'd look quite fetching.
Not as fetching as you.
Go on, I'll take the bike.
You can see to the brushes and buckets.
~ But it's my work bike and there's a knack to it.
~ Oh, go on! I need the practice anyway.
I'll need a bike of my own once we're in the flat.
Ooh! Gangway! Ooh! Sorry! Ding-dong, Avon calling.
Don't you flamin' well start.
Sorry.
I have an uncanny knack for misplaced jollity.
Feel free to shy a plimsoll at me.
I called in at the corner shop.
They said you hadn't picked up the Sporting Life since Monday.
I shouldn't be entertaining you in my vest.
We've all got our vests on in Nonnatus.
Some of us are wearing two.
The boiler broken? Yes, because no-one's come to see to it for days.
And the chimney's choked with soot.
You know, the fella before me warned me about that boiler.
He said, "You'll have to sweet-talk it every day.
"It's like a bad-tempered woman.
" Those contraptions have been giving me the runaround for 15 years.
I never knew what he meant about bad-tempered women until this week.
Do you mean Violet or your daughter? Both.
~ I thought Marlene was staying with you.
~ No.
She's gone to stay with her friend, Norah.
Says she's fed up with looking at my long face.
Does she, indeed? Don't stop her coming round every day to check to see if the flat's still standing.
It's like she's fixated with the place.
Patrick.
Is there nothing at all that we can do for Maureen Gatsby? I've seen hyperemesis before, but never like this.
Is it cooked through when the mince is bubbling through the potato? Looks slightly like volcanic lava.
I'm sure it will taste perfectly delicious.
Really, Patrick.
Of all the drugs salesmen knocking on our door, hasn't there been one who's offered some sort of anti-emetic? Yes, I think there was someone.
A month or two ago.
I think we were busy with diphtheria.
I will look it up in the log.
Oh, I forgot to say - it's really hot.
I want yellow walls in here.
And china with a modern pattern.
I don't want roses or violets on it.
I want geometric designs.
I want the only flowers to be real flowers.
Over there, on that windowsill, where they'll catch the light each morning when the sun comes up.
We'll have to find something better than that ghastly jug.
Oh, I like it.
It's as though somebody left it for us, like a little gift.
And I want to smell coffee when I wake up.
And bleach, because that will mean you're here.
Or that you've just gone out.
And when you come back in, I can say "Welcome home.
" Ah, this is it.
Has to be worth a try.
~ Shall I take the keys and get a set cut for you? ~ Yes.
~ I'd come with you, but I'll be late on duty if I don't fly.
~ Gosh, yes.
~ It's 20 to.
~ 20 to? I thought it was about quarter past.
~ Oh, I must have got water in my watch.
~ Take my bike.
~ Are you sure? ~ Park it outside the nurses' home.
I'll fetch it before my shift tonight.
No-one will ever know.
Take this as well.
I don't want you catching cold.
You really are a sort of angel.
The tragedy is, no-one will ever know that either.
Agh! Good afternoon.
I'm enquiring about a Miss Delia Busby.
We believe she may have been brought to you following a cycling accident.
'Of course.
Please hold.
' Such a nice young woman, too.
Her mother and father will be beside themselves.
They live miles away.
In Wales.
~ Hello? ~ 'Are you a relative?' No, I'm a friend.
'Information can only be given to the patient's next of kin.
' Of course.
Thank you.
~ Any news? ~ No.
Would you like me to run you to the London in my car? They're only letting her see her nearest and dearest.
You know what the rules are like.
~ Sugar? ~ No, thank you.
Like my pa always says, I'm sweet enough.
And I don't know why you've come round interfering.
Because I know what it's like to find oneself in a jam.
How hard it is to say the things one should.
Or wishes to.
This is our family home, Dad.
This is where we grew up.
Marlene .
.
we didn't move in here until I was demobbed in 1946.
Your mother never even lived here.
~ It was just you, me, Dolly and that terrier we had.
~ I know.
But this is where we came together again, where we put the Blitz behind us.
And for that very reason, Mum was everywhere.
How could she be, Marlene? We lost everything when that bomb dropped.
I went back to the bombsite, with my Auntie Peg after the funeral.
I made her take me.
I thought there'd be stuff lying round in the rubble.
Like souvenirs.
It had already been bulldozed.
Every time I come home, there's another gap where something used to be.
Ain't that the truth.
Sometimes I think it's only the river that stays the same.
Can I help you, dear? ~ Are you Delia's mother? ~ Yes, I am.
I was hoping to see her.
I'm Patsy.
Patsy? Oh, of course.
You're the lady she helps at Cubs.
I had to ring for the nurse.
She has these spells - seizures, the doctors call them .
.
on account of the knock to her head.
Oh.
~ Hello, Marlene.
~ I'm not going to ask you to be nice to me, Violet.
I was selfish and I was in the wrong.
You could fill a whole page of your ledger adding up the wrongs I done.
I don't think we've got anything to discuss.
I'd like you to talk to my dad.
Because my mum would tan my hide if she knew I tried to stop him being happy.
I believe in the films they say, "Your place or mine?" I'd live in a ditch if it was with you.
Correct answer.
There's still some dirt from the road around your fingernails.
It's by that little graze.
When they next give you a bedbath, just get them to rub it away with the corner of the flannel.
A spot of antiseptic wouldn't go amiss.
You sound a bit like a nurse.
Do I? Are you a friend of mine? Yes.
Have we been friends long? A little while.
That's nice.
Have you got lots of friends? No.
Are you a nurse? No, cariad.
I'm your mum.
Oh.
Can you help this girl? This is Patsy, cariad.
What's the matter? She says she's my friend.
And it's making her cry.
The adverts make all sorts of claims for these paper handkerchiefs.
But I don't think they'll ever catch on.
Tears just seem to melt them.
Nonnatus House, midwife speaking.
Will her memory come back? No-one will make us any promises.
So we're having to settle for hope.
She's dozing, and the moment.
Her father's sitting with her for a bit.
He used to do that when she was a baby.
Sit there looking at her while she slept.
There will be a lot of that when we get her home to Wales.
Will the hospital let you do that? The specialist suggested it.
She'll need looking after all the hours God sends.
For a while, at least.
And we still don't know if the seizures will be permanent.
May I come visit? Delia always says Pembridge is lovely when it's not raining.
Let's see how she does.
May I call, from time to time? We aren't on the telephone.
I dare say you can write.
I know where these can go.
That's right.
That's right, sweetie, just rest.
~ I keep forgetting that talking to her won't help.
~ It helps me.
Little pushes now, June.
~ Little pushes.
~ Little pushes.
Little pushes.
~ That's it! That's it! That's it.
I love you.
I love you, June Dillon.
Success! Baby's head's born.
The head's born.
Baby's just turning.
One last big push for me, June.
That's it! That's it! Well done! It's a boy, June.
It's a boy! Oh, shh, little one.
She wants him held up.
She says, "I love you.
"And your father loves you.
"And if you never hear his voice, "or if I never hear yours ".
.
just know that we love you "from the bottom of our hearts.
" ~ Evening, Trixie.
~ Or should I say "good morning"? Sometimes I can hardly tell.
You look tired.
I've just delivered a baby.
And I'm off to sit with a dying man.
That's life, really.
Isn't it? Must hurry.
Is that the Samaritans? Is it all right to call if I don't want to die? Because all I really want is just to stop drinking.
Thank you, but there's someone with her now.
And she's in a place of safety.
You are not alone, Trixie.
I promise you, you are not alone.
If you say you'll start praying, I guarantee you now that would not stop me crying.
The world is full of healing, Trixie, and people who care, and who'll help you to find it.
I don't want to go overboard on fold rolls.
I've got a blind spot for trimmings, being a haberdasher! You were frightfully disciplined about the rickrack braid.
And I'm bally certain, no-one will begrudge a bride a rose.
Well, Coco Chanel used to say that in order to be elegant, before you leave the house you should take off the last thing you put on.
What if the last thing was one's skirt? Oh, you're right, though, Violet.
This is too plain.
Oh.
Sky-blue, like your mother's eyes.
Maureen, look who it is! ~ My little man! ~ Go to your mummy.
One as necessary.
Just as you've been taking them.
I tell you what, every woman in the family way's going to be banging your doors down for these.
What's that magic stuff in them, again? Er, the tablets are known as Distaval.
The magic ingredient is called thalidomide.
Well, better get some more in.
I'm going to spread the word.
Shall we? I am the daughter of a man who drank.
I am the daughter of a man who fought in a war.
I heard him yelling at night.
And I saw him crying.
But I knew how to make him smile.
I knew how to make him better.
And there are only two things that could do that.
Me.
And a bottle of Scotch.
I became a nurse.
And a midwife.
I was needed.
And I needed them.
Because every time I delivered a baby .
.
I was right in the heart of a happy family for one or two hours.
No matter that I always have to go home on my own.
No matter that the one thing that makes me feel better is a glass of Scotch.
Or something like it.
There are so many things like it.
Looking back .
.
it seems to me my father was quite unadventurous.
Do I have to say it now? My name is Beatrix.
But people call me Trixie.
And I am an alcoholic.
'Sometimes it's hard to distinguish 'between ends and beginnings.
'Conclusions do not always hurt, 'and starting afresh may not feel entirely happy.
'Letting go brings peace 'and turns the tide towards the future.
'After the quiet ceremony Violet wanted, 'the wedding party went not to her home or to Fred's, 'but to a place where everyone was cherished 'and all doors and hearts were open.
'Like the face of a devoted parent, 'Nonnatus House was etched with a little more time each year.
'With each small shadow, 'every fading grace grew more beautiful, 'and was loved more than words can say.
'
'Our fears, our little triumphs, and keeps our secrets, 'holds our disappointments in.
' Nuns are supposed to be frugal.
~ Maybe I shouldn't have bought cut flowers.
~ It's only a few dahlias! They might think I'm extravagant.
Maybe I should have bought a pot plant instead.
They've invited us to tea to celebrate our news.
~ You don't have to give them anything.
~ But, Fred, it's an honour.
People like them inviting people like us.
You'd understand if you was a woman.
If I was a woman, we wouldn't be engaged.
Fred! I'm nervous.
Don't be.
It's just one big, happy family.
It's not working, Sister Evangelina.
Oh! I think the chimney must be blocked.
Blocked, no doubt, because of a certain handyman's negligence.
Pass me the poker.
I think it likely it is trammelled by a bird's nest.
According to its species, doom of several aspects might ensue.
I should shudder more were it to prove a jackdaw.
Or a magpie.
It's probably a stork with a slightly singed backside.
Oh! Ugh! Fred should have had this chimney swept in September when we didn't need a fire, instead of mooning about like Billy Bunter struck by Cupid's dart.
Fred.
Mrs Gee.
It's so good of you to come and share your happiness with us.
It's good of you to invite us.
Oh, dahlias, how very extravagant! ~ Excuse me, what's that? ~ It's an engagement cake.
Decorated with buttercream and crystallised violets.
A sort of pun on Mrs Gee's first name.
I meant underneath it.
It's, um, silver board.
It's a silver board that went under my engagement cake.
~ I thought it had been thrown out.
~ Why would we do that? ~ It cost 2 and 11.
~ Don't worry, Trixie.
I'm sure it won't bring them bad luck, or anything.
This little piggy went to market.
This little piggy stayed at home.
This little piggy had roast beef.
And this little piggy had none.
And this little piggy went "Wee, wee, wee," all the way to Walton-on-the-Naze to see his grandparents.
~ Camilla, can we steer clear of the W word? ~ What, Walton-on-the-Naze? No, wee-wee.
~ He's going to get confused and we've two hours' drive ahead of us.
~ Sorry.
I'm aware there are better times for me to be going off to do a fortnight's course at the London.
But we've made great leaps forward with this little lavatory seat.
~ Simple pleasures, eh? ~ Have faith.
He'll be running for gold at the potty Olympics in no time.
Come here.
Camilla? You've forgotten something.
Good Lord.
~ I love you.
~ I love you.
Oh Peter! Peter! ~ May you both be happy always.
~ Thank you.
So, have you established a date for these nuptials, Mrs Gee? Well, it won't be far off.
My son lives in Plymouth and he's due some leave from the Navy, so I'd like it to be then.
What about your daughters, Fred? Oh, Dolly and Marlene? Dolly's moved to Australia.
~ She'd have only just got the letter.
~ Oh, I thought she lived in Canada.
No, that's Marlene.
She's back home now.
She's settled in Birmingham.
I imagine she's already browsing the catalogue for outfits.
~ We haven't heard anything yet, have we? ~ I'm sure we will.
Nurse Noakes! You are restored to us! Ah! And you have come supplied.
Which is just as well for we have guests of uncommon appetite today.
I'm frightfully vexed at being late.
I was rather hoping for a morsel of pork pie.
Dost thou think that because thou art virtuous there should be no more cakes and ale? Sorry, Sister Monica Joan.
It's my mother's ashes.
They are of comfort to you perhaps.
Yes, and no.
Let's not take her to the party.
She was such a stickler for etiquette.
She'd never go anywhere without an invitation.
~ Long time no see, Maureen.
~ Hello, Carole.
How's life since you got rehoused? I swear, that tower block wobbles when it's windy.
~ What are you doing here, dare I ask? ~ In the family way again.
They reckon there's going to be a pill soon that can stop it happening.
~ There's a pill for everything nowadays.
~ Is Ted pleased? ~ Over the moon.
He's away now, though, at sea.
~ Oh, of course.
I'd forgotten.
Baby Cohen, Baby Kelly, Baby Singh, Baby Prichard.
Doctor's been delayed so the vaccination appointments have all been put back by half an hour.
~ Sorry, ladies.
~ I may as well feed him here.
He's ever so obliging.
He never minds if it's cold.
You'd be a fool to feed them fresh, really.
Listen to what's in this.
Macaroni, bacon, and tomato.
Nurse! Nurse! Hello, my love, you all right? All right, fellas? Hello, darling.
Morning.
~ Talk about a sight for sore eyes.
~ Marlene! I'm hardly the Avon Lady, Dad.
Although, judging by the smell of you, she's been here already.
Oh, it's only a bit of Old Spice.
Got to keep the standards up now.
~ Did you get the letter, about my lady friend? ~ Yes, Dad I did.
I'll take this away, if the moment has passed.
Nothing brings on sickness faster than staring at the empty bowl.
A tea leaf in my tea brought it on this morning.
I've been like this since I missed my first monthly.
If I was a gambling woman, I'd put five bob on a girl.
I've rinsed out Mrs Gadsby's handbag and brought her a nice cup of tea.
Thanks.
~ Would you mind just putting it over there? ~ Of course.
Would you like a Polo mint? I've got some in my pocket.
~ I didn't hear that.
~ Yes, please.
Mind over matter.
And Polo mints.
That's what'll get you through this.
~ Knock knock! ~ Come in.
Poor thing.
Have you got a hangover? How could I be hungover? I haven't even been to bed yet, let alone had anything stronger than Bournvita.
I got rather a shock when I realised Nonnatus House had moved on from Horlicks.
Still, the bathroom smells just the same.
Palmolive and Izal.
The girls at the mother and baby home use Lux.
Whatever are you doing? Applying a protein mask.
My complexion appears to be at the crossroads of youth and old age.
This morning, I found the beginnings of a pimple.
And a line beneath each eye.
I don't even look in the mirror with my glasses on.
My whole face is sort of sliding downwards, like a rather exhausted blancmange.
Do you suppose it would be as effective to take on the protein in the form of, say, a fried egg sandwich? Or some custard? No.
Yours is the one without the spoon.
No sugar cos you're sweet enough.
She's keeping your dust down, at any rate.
I don't have Violet coming around here doing my housework, Marlene.
She's got a business to run and a home of her own.
Where does that leave you, Dad? Well, I've handed notice on this place, so when we're married, I'll move in with her.
I thought she'd come and live here.
Well, she lives over her shop.
~ It would be a bit handier.
~ Well, handy for who? ~ Marlene! I knew you hadn't thought this through, Dad.
That's why I brought an overnight bag, so I can stay here until you do.
Mater would thoroughly approve of this.
She always wanted me to slenderise.
Then, when she was dying, she pushed a plate of scones towards me and said, "Camilla, look after your face.
"The other end's for sitting on, nobody will ever see it.
" It's her anniversary coming up.
I'm going to scatter her ashes in commemoration.
Somewhere where she was happy.
I can't take them back to India.
And they'd take a rather dim view of it all in the food hall at Fortnum & Mason.
Burnt cinder crunching underfoot.
The truth is I haven't the first idea where to put her.
She floated through life like a beautiful scarf.
Or a trace of perfume.
I'm not sure anywhere left its mark on her.
Or, indeed, vice versa.
Hello, midwife calling.
I see someone's dashing away with the smoothing iron.
Sorry.
Yes, I'd absolutely adore one.
Bourbons, my favourite.
Did you have regular checkups with your old GP? Forgive me.
When was the last time you saw your doctor? Dr Cartmell .
.
Manchester.
Hello, beautiful.
Apologies, Nurse.
I did promise her I'd be home before you got here but the chief clerk wouldn't let me go.
I'm Kevin Dillen.
Nurse Franklin.
Do you speak sign language, Mr Dillen? The minute I clapped eyes on June, I made up my mind to learn sign language, and learn I did.
She says I won't win any prizes, but I'm OK.
Oh! And did Mrs Dillen's husband translate adequately? We had a certain amount of fun and games with "cervix" and "vagina".
But, all in all, I think we did quite well.
I explained how we'd help her with her home delivery, and she seemed frightfully keen especially when I said her husband could stay with her.
Can you pass the pickles, please, Barbara? We've been through this, time and time again.
There is no need for a man to be in the delivery rooms! We don't even need them to boil water, so many people have got immersion heaters.
Nurse Crane, do you have a view? I've seen it done once, in an artistic family in Leeds.
Suffice to say, there was a fainting episode.
And it wasn't the mother.
Well, June's husband doesn't look like a fainter to me.
He seems extremely sensible.
And if he's the only person who can communicate with her, ~ she's going to need his help when the baby's born.
~ And so will we.
I learned some sign language, when I helped with the Girls' Brigade, and I can teach a little to Trixie.
But June needs at least one person who truly understands her, and that person happens to be the father of her child.
I rather think that Nurse Franklin is right.
~ Do you want to hear my news? ~ You've given it quite the build-up, I'm rather afraid it's going to disappoint.
~ They're knocking down the nurses' home.
~ Really? ~ Well, half of it.
Those of us who volunteered to move out and find private digs will be given a rent allowance.
And I've put my name down.
Oh, Delia, you don't want to end up in some filthy hole, ~ living cheek by jowl with a lot of students.
~ No, I don't.
I want to live in a spotless flat with you.
Say you will, Pats.
Think of the fun we'd have.
Think how we'd wave each other off each morning, and then come home and close the door at night.
And how we'd talk and talk, and maybe get a record player.
It would be so easy.
Would it? Are you sure there aren't any rules saying you can't? No, there aren't, I checked.
Are there any saying you can't? I don't have to live at Nonnatus, it was offered to me as a sort of perk.
Lots of girls share flats.
Not even a nun would bat an eyelid.
Good morning, madam.
I'm your fiance's daughter.
Marlene Dooley, nee Buckle.
You remember me? Yes! Yes, I do.
~ Oh, what a lovely surprise.
~ Good.
Because I ain't come in for two yards of knicker elastic.
I used to come in here with my mum.
Hair ribbons, mostly.
She was hard-pressed to keep me and Dolly looking nice, but she made a point about ribbons.
Even during the war.
Blue for your sister, and yellow for you.
Cigarette? I don't care for smoking in the shop.
The smell clings to the wool, and I'm not convinced it comes out in the wash.
These are mentholated.
Quite a pleasant aroma.
My dad always said no woman could ever take my mother's place.
And he's absolutely right.
And no man could ever replace my husband.
You were quite a double act, you and Mr Gee.
Him with his tripe shop, and you with this.
We worked hard.
It's what you do when you want to get on.
Shame my dad never took a leaf from your book.
Still, he knows a steady business when he sees it.
Proper little gold mine.
That was the phrase he used.
I believe he's moving in here after you've done the deed.
It was what we discussed, yes.
I wish I could say I was surprised.
But he's always had an eye for the main chance, my dad.
~ Good morning, Mrs Becker.
Your dress shields have arrived.
~ Oh, good.
I'll leave you to your clientele.
And, by the way, it was the other way around.
~ What was? ~ Hair ribbons.
Dolly's were yellow.
Mine were blue.
My dad used to say, "Sky-blue, "like your mother's eyes.
" As this is the first in a new series of classes, Sister Mary Cynthia has set up a suggestions box so you can inform us of our shortcomings.
Comments on the refreshments are not encouraged.
Mr and Mrs Dillen, how nice to see you both.
Oh Hello.
You can lie here.
You're welcome.
Excuse me, what's going on here? ~ June uses sign language to communicate.
~ I don't mean that.
I mean, what's her old man doing here? ~ If I'd known men were invited, I'd have brought mine, too! ~ Me, too! I'm sure we don't want to distract anyone from honest toil.
I have got to take a load of book-keeping home with me tonight, ~ make up for lost time.
~ It's a shame my Jack can't do the same but he can hardly unload crates of bananas in the parlour.
Don't worry, everyone's lovely.
I'm not stopping.
The chimney at Nonnatus is still giving gyp.
Only I was passing the baker's and they put a tray of meringues out and I know you love 'em.
~ Yes, I do.
~ They came out a little bit squashed, so they were selling 'em two for the price of one.
See you tomorrow morning for our little constitutional.
Cor.
We'll be papering the parlour with that lot.
Why do you want to move into a flat? Aren't you happy here? I'm as happy as I've ever been in my life.
But there is something that I find hard to acknowledge.
I have a dark secret.
I've never lived independently.
I've never paid a bill or bought a pint of milk or put up a bookshelf in my life.
I have a dark secret too.
Neither have I! Miss Mount, you will still join us for lunch each day? Of course.
A small amount of change is good for a community.
Too much isn't.
Besides, you'd be missed.
I've added a little bit of sugar.
Even a few sips will help.
No, I can't.
I'm sorry.
Oh, don't be.
One of the reasons we make booking-in visits is to make sure all is well and, clearly, it isn't.
Have you managed to prepare any food for Neil today? I've given him Farley's rusks, but he don't like them dry and I can't ~ I can't face boiling m ~ Milk? Is there someone close by who can who can call in each day and help? Your mother, perhaps? She's over in Bermondsey.
~ We don't speak.
~ What about your husband? He's in Wormwood Scrubs, love.
Doing three years for burglary.
Doctor has a very busy round today - I really don't think he can visit just for morning sickness.
Oh, this is more than morning sickness, Mrs Turner.
Maureen's been vomiting all day long.
Tell her to pop into clinic next Tuesday.
It's probably all nerves.
I'm sure Doctor will be able to reassure her.
I love it when you don't wear a hat or a scarf and the sun gets the chance to shine down on your hair.
Shame it don't get a chance to shine down on mine, eh? I had an interesting chat in the shop yesterday about hair.
~ Hair ribbons.
~ Did you? Who with.
Marlene.
I'm sorry, Violet.
Marlene can be a right madam when she has a mind to be.
I wouldn't have said she was being a madam.
I would've said she was trying to be honest.
Honest? What do you mean honest? She's talking codswallop.
It's not even true codswallop.
Fred, have you or have you not made any provision for your old age? I'm looking into setting up a mushroom farm.
And I haven't given up on fireworks altogether.
Well, none of them's exactly what you'd call a little gold mine, ~ though, is it? ~ No.
Fred, why did you ask to marry me when we could've just stayed friends? I've got loads of friends - well, mates - and acquaintances.
~ I haven't had a missus for nearly 20 years.
~ And you're getting on a bit.
Well, old.
Whichever way you want to put it.
Well, yeah, I'm no spring chicken, but then again, neither are you.
We can look after each other now, can't we? I don't need anyone to look after me, thank you very much.
And if you do, well ~ Fred, I'm not sure that you're doing this for the right reasons.
~ I I'm doing this because I thought we fitted together.
~ I thought you were missing things and so was I.
~ Exactly.
Let's put an end to this.
We're too old to make mistakes.
Morning, Fred.
This'll cheer you up.
Mum always used to say the smell of bacon made a house a home.
We'll have people and prams coming in single file, please.
This isn't the chariot race in Ben Hur.
Thank you.
I'll call in and collect the registration form.
Yes! Since when is this hall your personal wastepaper basket? I'm sorry, Sister.
I was just pleased.
I managed to find a council nursery space for Maureen Gadsby's ~ little boy.
~ Oh, you have, have you? I decided that if her problem really was nerves, with more rest and more support, she might find her sickness resolves.
Well, it's hardly scientific, but it is full of compassion and common sense.
And much of the time, that's all a midwife needs.
You'll do.
Now, go and lend a hand at the weighing table and put that in the bin.
I feared you had not yet succeeded in your task.
I looked for a lightness about you, the sense of a burden gone.
~ But I could not perceive it.
~ No? Sister Julienne's given me permission to keep the ashes here, until I decide what to do.
It didn't seem quite right keeping her under my bed, like a pair of slippers.
I shall be eternally glad when I am transmogrified.
The burden of the flesh is so heavy.
It is no marvel that the soul feels trapped.
Sister Monica Joan, I rather suspect .
.
if anything's trapping poor Mater, it's me.
Then you must release her.
I know.
But where? It's the last thing I'll ever do for her.
I have to make sure everything's top-notch and tickety-boo.
All done properly.
Or or never let go.
Maureen? It's Nurse Gilbert.
Maureen? Oh, Maureen! Maureen, you need to see a doctor.
And this time, he's going to come to you.
Nonnatus House, midwife speaking, how may I help you? 'H-hello, this is Kevin Dillon.
'I think June's labour's just started.
' Dillon.
Of course, the little deaf and dumb lady.
I shall dispatch her personal midwives.
And how many times a day do you vomit? Let me put a little Vaseline on your lips, Maureen, to soothe them.
I'll be running some blood tests and some urine tests.
But I don't need either to see that you're extremely dehydrated.
People keep saying it's my nerves.
It seems to me that you have a condition called hyperemesis gravidarum.
It's rare, but very debilitating.
Will I lose it, Doctor? The baby? Babies are tough little things, Mrs Gadsby.
But if we can't sort out some fluids, we're more likely to lose you.
I'm sorry, June.
Can you tell her I don't think things are on the move just yet? Not ready yet.
I know, I know, it's disappointing.
~ False alarm, I'm afraid.
~ Oh.
Baby will come soon, just not today.
Tell me, June.
You can tell me.
She says, "I want to meet my baby.
" She says, "I thought I would meet him tonight.
"I feel him kick.
"I feel him turn inside of me.
"I put my hand here, "here where I feel his fist, or his foot.
"And we are one.
" She says, "Will we understand each other when he's born?" "If he's like you, "I have no voice for him to hear.
" "And if he's like me ".
.
he'll live in silence.
" She says, "I need to hold him.
"I want to look into his face, "because, until I do, "I won't know how to tell him "that he's loved.
" Oh, goodness me, Sister Monica Joan.
You look like Mrs Hiawatha all wrapped up like that.
I would respond in verse, but my brain is too jellied to recall the scantest couplet.
And I doubt Minnehaha would be obliged to secrete a bottle of hot water underneath her scapula.
It is frightfully nippy.
I might get you a vest after luncheon.
The boiler has died.
From inattention.
I may yet suffer the same fate.
Has Fred stopped coming altogether? He has not been seen since his liaison with the haberdasher wilted on the vine.
He must be distraught.
He would be more so if he could see the tinge of blue upon my hands.
I've come to take your blood pressure, Maureen.
What's happened to Neil? Did Nurse Gilbert take him to the nursery? She did.
And they agreed he could stay until five o'clock.
To give us time to make arrangements with social services.
Social services? Oh.
Maureen, he needs to be looked after while we take care of you.
The foster mother we've found for him is lovely.
Foster mother? I'm his mother.
He cries for his dad already, I don't need him crying for me too.
He can't do without me for weeks and weeks.
He can't.
I promise you, children are more resilient than you think.
What does "resilient" mean? It means strong.
I wish I was resilient.
Cos if I was, Neil wouldn't have to be.
MUSIC: "Little Things Mean A Lot" by Kitty Kallen Blow me a kiss from across the room Say I look nice when I'm not What ho, Fred? .
.
Touch my hair as you pass my chair Little things means a lot Give me your arm as we cross the street Call me at six on the dot A line a day when you're far away Little things mean a lot .
.
Don't have to buy me Diamonds or pearls Champagne, sables and such What if I go past one of the Cubs? It makes an utter nonsense of everything I've told them during cycling proficiency.
What's the alternative? Me with the mop across my shoulders and the buckets hanging from each end of it, like a milkmaid? Why not? It'd be much safer and you'd look quite fetching.
Not as fetching as you.
Go on, I'll take the bike.
You can see to the brushes and buckets.
~ But it's my work bike and there's a knack to it.
~ Oh, go on! I need the practice anyway.
I'll need a bike of my own once we're in the flat.
Ooh! Gangway! Ooh! Sorry! Ding-dong, Avon calling.
Don't you flamin' well start.
Sorry.
I have an uncanny knack for misplaced jollity.
Feel free to shy a plimsoll at me.
I called in at the corner shop.
They said you hadn't picked up the Sporting Life since Monday.
I shouldn't be entertaining you in my vest.
We've all got our vests on in Nonnatus.
Some of us are wearing two.
The boiler broken? Yes, because no-one's come to see to it for days.
And the chimney's choked with soot.
You know, the fella before me warned me about that boiler.
He said, "You'll have to sweet-talk it every day.
"It's like a bad-tempered woman.
" Those contraptions have been giving me the runaround for 15 years.
I never knew what he meant about bad-tempered women until this week.
Do you mean Violet or your daughter? Both.
~ I thought Marlene was staying with you.
~ No.
She's gone to stay with her friend, Norah.
Says she's fed up with looking at my long face.
Does she, indeed? Don't stop her coming round every day to check to see if the flat's still standing.
It's like she's fixated with the place.
Patrick.
Is there nothing at all that we can do for Maureen Gatsby? I've seen hyperemesis before, but never like this.
Is it cooked through when the mince is bubbling through the potato? Looks slightly like volcanic lava.
I'm sure it will taste perfectly delicious.
Really, Patrick.
Of all the drugs salesmen knocking on our door, hasn't there been one who's offered some sort of anti-emetic? Yes, I think there was someone.
A month or two ago.
I think we were busy with diphtheria.
I will look it up in the log.
Oh, I forgot to say - it's really hot.
I want yellow walls in here.
And china with a modern pattern.
I don't want roses or violets on it.
I want geometric designs.
I want the only flowers to be real flowers.
Over there, on that windowsill, where they'll catch the light each morning when the sun comes up.
We'll have to find something better than that ghastly jug.
Oh, I like it.
It's as though somebody left it for us, like a little gift.
And I want to smell coffee when I wake up.
And bleach, because that will mean you're here.
Or that you've just gone out.
And when you come back in, I can say "Welcome home.
" Ah, this is it.
Has to be worth a try.
~ Shall I take the keys and get a set cut for you? ~ Yes.
~ I'd come with you, but I'll be late on duty if I don't fly.
~ Gosh, yes.
~ It's 20 to.
~ 20 to? I thought it was about quarter past.
~ Oh, I must have got water in my watch.
~ Take my bike.
~ Are you sure? ~ Park it outside the nurses' home.
I'll fetch it before my shift tonight.
No-one will ever know.
Take this as well.
I don't want you catching cold.
You really are a sort of angel.
The tragedy is, no-one will ever know that either.
Agh! Good afternoon.
I'm enquiring about a Miss Delia Busby.
We believe she may have been brought to you following a cycling accident.
'Of course.
Please hold.
' Such a nice young woman, too.
Her mother and father will be beside themselves.
They live miles away.
In Wales.
~ Hello? ~ 'Are you a relative?' No, I'm a friend.
'Information can only be given to the patient's next of kin.
' Of course.
Thank you.
~ Any news? ~ No.
Would you like me to run you to the London in my car? They're only letting her see her nearest and dearest.
You know what the rules are like.
~ Sugar? ~ No, thank you.
Like my pa always says, I'm sweet enough.
And I don't know why you've come round interfering.
Because I know what it's like to find oneself in a jam.
How hard it is to say the things one should.
Or wishes to.
This is our family home, Dad.
This is where we grew up.
Marlene .
.
we didn't move in here until I was demobbed in 1946.
Your mother never even lived here.
~ It was just you, me, Dolly and that terrier we had.
~ I know.
But this is where we came together again, where we put the Blitz behind us.
And for that very reason, Mum was everywhere.
How could she be, Marlene? We lost everything when that bomb dropped.
I went back to the bombsite, with my Auntie Peg after the funeral.
I made her take me.
I thought there'd be stuff lying round in the rubble.
Like souvenirs.
It had already been bulldozed.
Every time I come home, there's another gap where something used to be.
Ain't that the truth.
Sometimes I think it's only the river that stays the same.
Can I help you, dear? ~ Are you Delia's mother? ~ Yes, I am.
I was hoping to see her.
I'm Patsy.
Patsy? Oh, of course.
You're the lady she helps at Cubs.
I had to ring for the nurse.
She has these spells - seizures, the doctors call them .
.
on account of the knock to her head.
Oh.
~ Hello, Marlene.
~ I'm not going to ask you to be nice to me, Violet.
I was selfish and I was in the wrong.
You could fill a whole page of your ledger adding up the wrongs I done.
I don't think we've got anything to discuss.
I'd like you to talk to my dad.
Because my mum would tan my hide if she knew I tried to stop him being happy.
I believe in the films they say, "Your place or mine?" I'd live in a ditch if it was with you.
Correct answer.
There's still some dirt from the road around your fingernails.
It's by that little graze.
When they next give you a bedbath, just get them to rub it away with the corner of the flannel.
A spot of antiseptic wouldn't go amiss.
You sound a bit like a nurse.
Do I? Are you a friend of mine? Yes.
Have we been friends long? A little while.
That's nice.
Have you got lots of friends? No.
Are you a nurse? No, cariad.
I'm your mum.
Oh.
Can you help this girl? This is Patsy, cariad.
What's the matter? She says she's my friend.
And it's making her cry.
The adverts make all sorts of claims for these paper handkerchiefs.
But I don't think they'll ever catch on.
Tears just seem to melt them.
Nonnatus House, midwife speaking.
Will her memory come back? No-one will make us any promises.
So we're having to settle for hope.
She's dozing, and the moment.
Her father's sitting with her for a bit.
He used to do that when she was a baby.
Sit there looking at her while she slept.
There will be a lot of that when we get her home to Wales.
Will the hospital let you do that? The specialist suggested it.
She'll need looking after all the hours God sends.
For a while, at least.
And we still don't know if the seizures will be permanent.
May I come visit? Delia always says Pembridge is lovely when it's not raining.
Let's see how she does.
May I call, from time to time? We aren't on the telephone.
I dare say you can write.
I know where these can go.
That's right.
That's right, sweetie, just rest.
~ I keep forgetting that talking to her won't help.
~ It helps me.
Little pushes now, June.
~ Little pushes.
~ Little pushes.
Little pushes.
~ That's it! That's it! That's it.
I love you.
I love you, June Dillon.
Success! Baby's head's born.
The head's born.
Baby's just turning.
One last big push for me, June.
That's it! That's it! Well done! It's a boy, June.
It's a boy! Oh, shh, little one.
She wants him held up.
She says, "I love you.
"And your father loves you.
"And if you never hear his voice, "or if I never hear yours ".
.
just know that we love you "from the bottom of our hearts.
" ~ Evening, Trixie.
~ Or should I say "good morning"? Sometimes I can hardly tell.
You look tired.
I've just delivered a baby.
And I'm off to sit with a dying man.
That's life, really.
Isn't it? Must hurry.
Is that the Samaritans? Is it all right to call if I don't want to die? Because all I really want is just to stop drinking.
Thank you, but there's someone with her now.
And she's in a place of safety.
You are not alone, Trixie.
I promise you, you are not alone.
If you say you'll start praying, I guarantee you now that would not stop me crying.
The world is full of healing, Trixie, and people who care, and who'll help you to find it.
I don't want to go overboard on fold rolls.
I've got a blind spot for trimmings, being a haberdasher! You were frightfully disciplined about the rickrack braid.
And I'm bally certain, no-one will begrudge a bride a rose.
Well, Coco Chanel used to say that in order to be elegant, before you leave the house you should take off the last thing you put on.
What if the last thing was one's skirt? Oh, you're right, though, Violet.
This is too plain.
Oh.
Sky-blue, like your mother's eyes.
Maureen, look who it is! ~ My little man! ~ Go to your mummy.
One as necessary.
Just as you've been taking them.
I tell you what, every woman in the family way's going to be banging your doors down for these.
What's that magic stuff in them, again? Er, the tablets are known as Distaval.
The magic ingredient is called thalidomide.
Well, better get some more in.
I'm going to spread the word.
Shall we? I am the daughter of a man who drank.
I am the daughter of a man who fought in a war.
I heard him yelling at night.
And I saw him crying.
But I knew how to make him smile.
I knew how to make him better.
And there are only two things that could do that.
Me.
And a bottle of Scotch.
I became a nurse.
And a midwife.
I was needed.
And I needed them.
Because every time I delivered a baby .
.
I was right in the heart of a happy family for one or two hours.
No matter that I always have to go home on my own.
No matter that the one thing that makes me feel better is a glass of Scotch.
Or something like it.
There are so many things like it.
Looking back .
.
it seems to me my father was quite unadventurous.
Do I have to say it now? My name is Beatrix.
But people call me Trixie.
And I am an alcoholic.
'Sometimes it's hard to distinguish 'between ends and beginnings.
'Conclusions do not always hurt, 'and starting afresh may not feel entirely happy.
'Letting go brings peace 'and turns the tide towards the future.
'After the quiet ceremony Violet wanted, 'the wedding party went not to her home or to Fred's, 'but to a place where everyone was cherished 'and all doors and hearts were open.
'Like the face of a devoted parent, 'Nonnatus House was etched with a little more time each year.
'With each small shadow, 'every fading grace grew more beautiful, 'and was loved more than words can say.
'