Episode 1 Call the Midwife

WOMAN: Here we bloody go again...

Breathe your way through it, Joan, breathe your way through it.

Breathe through it.

That's right, that's right! Good girl.

Good girl...

That's right.

'I saw a thousand dawns when I was working in the East End.

'A thousand fresh beginnings.

'Every day a world made new.'

'There were challenges and changes but always

'the sense of life forging forward,

'pulsing like the River Thames itself.'

I know it's been a long night, but you're doing so well.

She ain't had nothing to eat since dinner last night,

it's no wonder she's weak.

I brought her an iced bun.

I hate iced buns.

Not just now, Mrs Wiggs. Maybe later.

Do you want it?

Actually, I'd love it.

Mmm!

I'm going to end up with Sister Evangelina!

Oh, look, there he is!

Look at that! Feels like home already!

I always say, it's the little things that count.

We had hoped for a red carpet, and a marching band!

Where the bright Seraphim in burning row

Their loud uplifted angel trumpets blow

And the Cherubic host of thousand choirs

Touch their immortal harps of golden wires!

CYNTHIA: Hello, Sister Monica Joan.

Are you settling in?

Those who went before us in this place

have left a most vaporous trail.

It's the smell of wet paint.

But she won't be told.

Thank you.

JOAN HOWLS

Keep going! Good girl! Keep going!

Good!

Good things come to those who wait, Joan!

I can see the baby's head.

I'm scared...

You listen to the nurse, love. She's done this hundred times.

Haven't you?

Absolutely.

SHE GRUNTS AND GROANS

BABY CRIES

A little boy, Joan.

And he's beautiful!

Oh, Joan!

'In textbooks there are no lessons in digging deep,

'in finding one last hour of strength to see you through.

'But in Poplar I learned all of this and more.'

There! Wasn't that all worth it?

I could sleep for ever.

And I don't care if I never sleep again.

BABY CRIES

BABY CRIES

Hello, Merle.

BABY CRIES

Sounds like someone wants his elevenses!

"Someone" wants his elevenses morning, noon and night.

And if I ain't feeding him, I'm changing his drawers.

It can take a while for a baby to get into a new routine.

Was your other little boy unsettled as a newborn?

Ian? Not half! It's like I can't do anything right, sometimes.

Does Martin look all right to you?

I can't see anything amiss.

Why don't you pop into our Tuesday clinic?

We can give him the once-over, if you're worried.

I never know where they are, since they knocked the Parish Hall down.

I'm sorry. We're still on the hunt for a permanent venue.

But we're at the Seaman's Mission next week. Do come.

I'll try.

If his nibs is less unsettled.

Now, I've done exactly what the book says,

and rolled the pastry into a rectangle!

Rectangle.

Next, I just dot the pastry with a previously prepared paste

of butter and lard, thus...

Now I then fold the pastry over -

like so!

And then repeat the action four times,

whilst the pie filling simmers on a low light!

BANG

And one single titter from you, young sir, and I'll take you

to the mirror, and show you what a naughty monkey looks like!

GRAMOPHONE PLAYS

Knock-knock!

Guess what? They've put us in together!

We can shimmy to the Dansette every night, like Pinky and Perky.

Where's Cynthia?

Well, they put her in the box room at the end. We tossed a coin.

You don't mind, do you?

I've never heard anyone say that I snore.

Trixie, I could sleep in the funnel of the Queen Mary right now.

Milk Tray?

They were a gift from the bunion lady in Colette Street.

I've eaten the Turkish Delight.

I'll have the lime barrel and the almond whirl.

I'll ruin my lunch, but I don't care.

If I were you, I'd eat the chocolates

and just sneak 40 winks.

Why?

Chummy's bringing it.

Oh.

Bally, bally botheration.

Something smells nice!

-It isn't for you!

-What was it?

Individual chicken and mushroom pies with flaky pastry.

And don't even ask about the coconut blancmange!

Camilla. You try too hard.

Look after the baby!

There's a Tupperware full of stewed pears if he's hungry,

and if he starts turning his head to the left, that means he's tired.

Bye-bye, Mummy.

Can I have some of the pears?

I found the enema nozzles and the rubber tubes.

The labouring women of Poplar will be thrilled.

I can't believe how much space we have!

I feel like demanding roller-skates, to get me from one cupboard to another.

No point in a clinical room the size of County Hall,

if the autoclave doesn't work.

It's been on for ten minutes, and it's about as hot as the North Pole!

Sorry, Sister, but we've lost a few spirit lamps.

Put them in the dustbin.

I shall have to go back to the Post Office,

to see why the telephone hasn't been connected.

Is everything all right, Sister Monica Joan?

I ventured through a door

and uncovered something that disturbed me.

What, Sister?

It disturbs you, too. I surmise its purpose is a dark one.

It is a urinal. You must try not to let it upset you.

The building used to be a training school for parish workers but Fred's

going to strip all that out, so that we can use it as a store room.

I think it is the source of the vapours I detected.

Come to the cookhouse door, ladies. Luncheon is served.

Home-cooked food! What could be better?

DOOR BELL RINGS

My dear Sister Winifred!

I am so glad you have come to us!

You cannot begin to imagine how welcome you are.

Now, not too heavy with the tomato sauce. It's very expensive.

Everyone!

This is Sister Winifred, who has come to live and work with us.

-OTHERS: Hello, Sister Winifred.

-Hello! I'm delighted to be here.

She joins Nonnatus from the Mother House at Chichester.

What a perfectly frightful journey.

This is Nurse Franklin, Nurse Miller, and Mrs Noakes,

who used to nurse with us but has moved on to the calling of marriage.

Oh, that's nice.

And this is Sister Monica Joan.

Now, come and sit next to Sister Evangelina.

Hello.

We've met.

It was on my summer holidays. They had nits in the village school.

That was a very trying week.

Were you a head inspector, Sister?

Head inspector. Nit nurse.

The children used to call me Nitty Nora the Scalp Explorer,

but I suppose that's just because there's not many things that rhyme with Winifred.

Now, haddock, plaice, or saveloy?

I'm frightfully sorry. The saveloy was not intentional.

I'll have...

whatever no-one else wants.

Correct answer.

Thank you.

-KNOCK AT DOOR

-Enter.

The patient files are completely reorganised.

It's time for the finishing touches.

There was no sun in your old surgery.

Any plant would have withered and died.

You know, there is a permanent position for you, if you'd like it.

Receptionist and all-round saviour of my sanity.

Timmy needs me at home and so do you.

I love helping out, but it's part-time, and temporary.

What on earth is that supposed to say?

"Erythromycin suspension".

I'm going to set you handwriting exercises.

HE CHUCKLES

Whoops! Timber...

You'll get the hang of it.

-What's she doing?

-I have absolutely no idea.

Ah.

Oh, I'm glad to see you expanding your skills,

for I require book shelves.

They need to be erected in my room.

Where did you get that wood?

They're revising their display arrangements at the pet shop.

Sister, you might have injured yourself!

My books have been in boxes for far too long.

If they are not set straight, their contents will jumble,

and become deranged.

-Hi, Nurse Lee!

-Hello!

-Well done!

-Goodness!

-SHE GASPS

-I certainly feel as though I've earned my spurs!

We've only cycled half a mile. And that was just the warm-up.

We'll call in on Joan Rickart first. She lives at number nine.

What's that smell?

It's the communal lavatory.

-Is it broken?

-No, it's just busy.

TOILET FLUSHES

Wait a moment!

Hello, little boy.

You shouldn't be out here. Where's your mummy?

I know this family.

I saw the mother just this morning.

Come on, let's get you inside.

Yes.

I can't keep on top of things! I can't!

I'm never done boiling water for the washing.

I'm spending half my family allowance on Stergene.

My hands are splitting open from forever wringing nappies.

BABY GRIZZLES

Is he all right?

Well, he's on the dainty side.

Maybe more of a jockey than a docker!

Are you still giving him the breast?

Yeah, but I top him up with a bottle cos he's always hungry!

Sorry. I know that's not really allowed.

I've never met a baby yet who's read the rule book.

I'll add you to our daily list, Merle.

We'll call in each morning, and help you get things on an even keel.

I've just looked up Martin's birth weight.

He's four weeks old. He's only gained half a pound.

Topping up, indeed! Breast is best, every four hours and no arguments.

But the mothers won't listen.

Afternoon, ladies. Settling in?

It's already starting to feel like home.

Except the phone doesn't work, so people keep dropping in to visit unannounced.

Well, phones or no phones, I wanted to tell you face to face.

We have found a permanent site for your ante-natal clinic.

-At last!

-At the Council Community Centre, in Argent Street.

Now the best news of all is

we can have it for two afternoons a week, not one.

Can clinic still be on a Tuesday? That's what I want to know.

It's always been on a Tuesday

and I don't want the mothers messed about any further.

Tuesday - absolutely. And Thursdays, too - without extra charge.

Oh, this is the best chance we've ever had of delivering

not just health care, but health education.

Well, we could give classes in mothercraft, nutrition,

cookery, exercise.

The list is limitless!

I bet it is.

I actually think it might be rather marvellous.

Tuesdays are just a relentless round of weighing, measuring,

and boiling urine.

We never have any time for teaching other skills.

We need to give classes in nutrition, for a start.

People think orange jelly's full of vitamins.

Yes, and don't you think it might be fun to do things like music and movement with the toddlers?

Fun?

We're givers of health care. Not children's entertainers!

Sister Monica Joan, why don't you sit down and eat with us?

I have not time to while away an hour in idleness!

I am making an inventory of my books.

Very strenuous, I'm sure.

Why don't you take the whole plate? Keep your strength up.

There's some nice Red Leicester in your sandwich,

and I've popped in a couple of radishes.

You haven't cut them into novelty shapes again, have you?

Only I got joshed by the others last time.

Well, the least one can do is try and raise a smile!

Midnight lunch is a dismal affair.

I remember it well from when I was on night shifts.

Thermos.

You take care tonight.

I've got quite enough to keep me out of mischief.

I'm on the final furlong with those scatter cushions.

# Where are you?

# ..Wish I may, wish I might

# Make this wish come true tonight

# Searched all over, for the love

# You're the one I'm thinking of

# Twinkle, twinkle, Little Star,

# How I wonder where you are... #

PHONE RINGS

-MAN:

-Hello, Nonnatus House.

I never thought I'd be so thrilled to hear the telephone ring.

Hel...

SHE IS CUT OFF

SHE SIGHS

Just about to go on my rounds.

But I had to test the Nonnatus phone. The wretched thing still isn't working!

Do you want to hear something that will cheer you up?

Yes, if you tell me quickly.

We've been courting for precisely six months today.

I feel rather inclined to tie a bunch of balloons to this phone box.

I'm on duty, Alec.

Say that again, but a bit more primly.

What do you think?

It'll do!

Something isn't right, Nurse. One minute, he's running around,

full of beans, the next, he's coughing till he nearly chokes.

He doesn't seem feverish, but we need to rule out infection.

I want the doctor to see both boys,

and, as you've been bottle feeding, I'd also like to check

that everything's been properly sterilised.

Are you saying I can't clean things properly?

I'm never done boiling, and soaking stuff in Milton!

I don't doubt that for a moment.

But, Merle, when you've no choice but to wash bottles and nappies

in the same sink, there's always a chance contamination may occur.

They're never well! Neither of them.

Ian's always had a chest, and I used to think, he's just a winter baby.

But Martin came in the spring and if anything, he's worse.

His nappies are a nightmare.

There's so many, even Billy has to help.

I daren't tell them down the dockyard.

-BABY CRIES

-Ssh...

-Nurse!

-Billy?

When will the doctor come?

Would it be quicker if I took the nipper to the surgery?

I'll ask Doctor to put you on his rounds tomorrow.

It isn't an emergency. Just a puzzle.

I...I had a brother pass away, when I was little.

He was four. And a quarter.

My mum never likes it if we leave the quarter off.

I'm sorry.

I sometimes reckon, if he had lived now, he wouldn't have died.

Times change for the better, don't they?

Yes. They do.

No sign of the GPO engineers?

I keep pacing up and down by the telephone in case

they might ring to say they are on their way.

Which of course they won't. Because they can't.

And of course if they could, and they did, they wouldn't actually need to.

A statement almost Aristotelian in its logic.

-Shelagh, are these really the only ladies left?

-Yes.

There are 21 women who haven't appeared,

and nine of those have previous missed appointments.

My word, it's all rather palatial compared to the old Parish Hall.

Am I too late to pick up some vitamin drops for young sir?

No, you can have vitamin drops, a full weigh and measure,

an assessment for milk tokens and an eye test, if you like.

There's no queue, and you're guaranteed personal attention.

I really am a tail-end Charlie, aren't I?

I was at church, sorting out some mildew on the kneelers.

Hardly anybody came, Chummy.

The trouble is, I'm not sure people know where the

Community Centre is, or what it's for.

People are used to Parish Halls, and Missions.

If something doesn't have a saint's name in front of it, I think

they're a little suspicious.

But at least you're of fixed abode now.

Time for a leafleting campaign, methinks!

Chummy, I wish we had the time!

Well, If you haven't, I have.

Oceans of it. Acres.

I'm knee deep in time. You can have it all.

Sister?

I wondered if I might talk to you about Sister Monica Joan.

If she approaches you with cake in your first week,

pick up your skirts and run.

It's all a ruse, designed to embarrass the unwary.

It's nothing to do with cake, Sister.

She may be my sister in Christ,

but I swear she would drive a Methodist to drink!

I am placing the biography of Astley Cooper, master surgeon,

next to the memoirs of Rousseau,

since I deem it likely they conversed in life.

The Dewey Decimal system is altogether too earthbound,

and likely to speak loudest to pedantic minds.

You have been cutting pages out of Bibles.

I have excised certain chapters of the Apocrypha.

The act cannot be heretical - the Apocrypha is heretical itself.

Urine sample. Now, please.

In case you've forgotten where the bathroom is,

it's just across the way.

You think my mind is fractured, and the cause lies in my bladder.

You are no better than Plato, who believed a woman's womb would

roam her body, provoking psychological disease.

I have put Plato here, next to Mr Freud,

so they can be companions in their ignorance.

Sister. You've been martyr to your waterworks all winter.

And you know, as well as I do, that

the slightest infection can bring you right down.

But I am not brought down now. I am well!

And filled...with purpose.

I can see that.

I've never been a reader,

I've always been a doer.

Books passed me by when I was young.

Books have been my friends.

I do not intend to forget what they have taught me.

Sister, I cannot deny that my memory is sometimes in need of...

..refreshment.

But once a thing is known,

it can never be unknown.

Can it?

No, Sister.

And you be careful with this edifice.

We don't want it falling on your foot.

Come on, girls.

Three chest infections in six months is too many.

It's been more than that.

But sometimes not so bad we feel we ought not to bother you.

Always bother me.

I'm going to give Ian penicillin,

and call in again in three days' time.

Nurse, I want some stool samples from Martin, as soon as

he wakes up. Then he is to have formula milk only, on prescription.

He's to be weighed daily.

Will that tell us what's wrong?

It may tell us nothing is wrong.

If this is nothing, then I'm just a lousy mother!

It means I can't feed him!

It means I can't keep him clean!

It means I'll never go an hour without him screaming!

Merle, no-one is criticising you.

But we need to see if Martin's actually getting enough food.

That way we can tackle his upset tummy,

and try and help him put on weight.

You believe he's ill, don't you?

I believe we'll find out one way or another.

It's a wonderfully enterprising idea, Mrs Noakes.

But it will be quite a challenge to organise.

Well, all you have to do is run the clinic as normal,

and then the displays by the Cubs, the Sewing Club,

the flower arrangers, and the Girls' Brigade

will take place around you as the afternoon goes on.

Just reading this leaflet is an education.

I wasn't aware that half these societies existed.

Well, some of them are quite new.

I've only just set them up.

-May I keep this?

-Actually, it's the only copy.

I was just on my way to the library, to get it copied on the Roneo.

I think interest may be rather brisk.

-Hello! Would you like one?

-Thank you.

Good afternoon.

-Can I give you one of these?

-Ah, thanks.

Gosh! Looks like hard work.

Can I give you one of these?

No, thanks, dear.

Ah, now, Mrs Torpy, this should interest you.

Particularly as a newcomer to Poplar.

There are all sorts of clubs and classes for you...

Well, and indeed for Sheryl.

You might like Girls' Brigade. It's a uniformed Christian organisation.

Better than putting that muck all over her face.

I'm practising for when I get a job.

A job down Cable Street, looking like that.

And most importantly,

the ante-natal clinic would be right up your street.

You can have all your routine tests there,

and a reassuring chat with a midwife every week.

God love you, but er, this is my fourth, so when the time comes,

I'm just going to ring for the ambulance.

Do yous do bingo?

Oh, bingo?

Well, never say never.

Well, if yous do bingo,

I'll be there every day.

Nobody's interested.

And I had visions of mounted policemen

trying to control the surging crowds.

Mounted policemen are already booked.

I had to stay late for a briefing.

The Docks and Harbour Offices are getting a royal visit.

Oh, but that's absolutely thrilling!

Is it the Queen?

No. The next best thing, though.

Her Royal Highness, the Princess Margaret.

Oh, but I haven't seen her since Pa was knighted.

Oh, we absolutely must join the throng, to cheer her on.

It'll be quite a small throng.

It's just a trade and industry engagement.

But that will bore her to tears!

And people would want to see her.

Princess Margaret is like royalty and a film star rolled into one!

I suppose.

The docks and harbour visit was her only invitation.

I find that hard to credit.

When's she coming?

Week on Tuesday.

Oh, do you know?

That's really quite fortuitous.

It's been a week since Ian started penicillin.

But his phlegm's so thick he can't seem to cough it up.

He needs to be in hospital. They both do.

They need proper looking after and I can't do it.

I'll speak to Doctor,

but you must trust him.

He deals with this sort of thing every day.

Begging your pardon, Nurse.

BOY COUGHS

So do we.

CHILD WAILS

Every test I've run has come back clear.

I'll refer both Ian and Martin

to the paediatric specialist at the London, but...

What do you think's the matter, Doctor?

I wish I knew.

How do you find Mrs Vickers' state of mind?

Er, she's weepy, exhausted, scarcely leaves the flat.

I've noticed she's started to let her appearance go.

Women can develop depression up to a year after the birth of a child.

May explain why she's struggling to cope.

There is one other thing.

Billy - the children's father -

had a brother who died at the age of four.

Some sort of chest complaint.

Do you think that might be making them even more anxious?

Yes, I do! Absolutely, I do.

But that doesn't mean those children aren't unwell.

No. I know that.

Oh, look at that.

It's the thickest and smoothest writing paper I've ever seen.

It's always like that. Even when it's only the lady-in-waiting who writes.

-But Chummy, they said yes!

-I think it's tremendous!

Ssh! You know perfectly well you're not supposed to be here!

Yes, and if the nuns wake up and come down,

we'll have to lock you in the larder.

And you'll never get your fried egg sandwich.

We only let you in because you bring your own Tabasco.

Come and sit down, Chummy.

I've got to get back to the baby.

Peter starts his night shift soon.

Oh, just for five minutes. You look exhausted.

I've had wings on my heels all day, and now I'm coming down to earth.

I've had to go to the police, the council,

ring the lady-in-waiting three times, and write a letter to Sister

Julienne... Ooh, which I need you to put on her desk in the morning.

Gosh! What else have you had to do?

Amongst other things, nobble some needlewomen for my Sewing Club,

and buy a book on flower arranging,

so I could teach a flower arranging class.

I told the lady-in-waiting that both exist already.

Well, I can teach flower arranging.

My godmother bought me lessons, from Constance Spry.

What about the Cubs? They aren't a figment of your imagination.

They're going to celebrate the maritime connections to the East End

by re-enacting the story of Grace Darling.

Jack Smith's going to play the lighthouse.

Well, I think that sounds absolutely lovely.

As will the Girls' Brigade band,

as they play a fanfare for the Princess!

But Chummy, the Girls' Brigade band is terrible! I should know. I have to listen to them every week.

But I've promised the lady-in-waiting. Mea culpa.

Well, I played the bugle in the RAF cadets.

-I could come and knock them into shape.

-Would you really?

Give anything for a close-up view of Princess Margaret.

# The angels listened in

# Listened in

# When they heard me praying

# The angels listened in

# Listened in

# When they heard me saying

# Please send me someone to love

# Send the one I am thinking of

# My darling, the angels sent you

# The angels listened in... #

Hello, everyone. This is Sheryl.

She's come to help us out with our fanfare.

Ah, excellent! I hope you've got a good strong pair of lungs.

I've got a cold sore.

I'll get you a drum.

# ..Gave me the whole wide world

# Wrapped up in one little girl

# My darling, when the angels sent you... #

I was listening to the wireless. Rain is forecast.

Come on, you.

You've done enough.

I hope so.

Baby Martin has desperate trouble with digestion.

Ian has a cough, and terrible diarrhoea.

They're both worryingly small.

It was the first thing I noticed when I saw them.

I'm very much afraid it sounds like "failure to thrive".

Failure to thrive isn't a diagnosis, Sister!

They've used that term since Victorian times.

Has an infection been ruled out?

Stool samples were tested, and swabs taken, but they came back clear.

Dr Turner's tried everything.

It is the way their humours are aligned!

I have a volume detailing just the illness you describe.

It dates from when Queen Anne was on the throne.

Really, Sister?

Yes, it says children such as these will not survive five years.

And when their brow is kissed, they taste of salt.

It is upstairs, wrapped in chamois leather,

for its vibrations must be shielded from refracted light.

We must tidy away. It is time for high tea.

You say that as though high tea will entice me to silence!

I have a repository of knowledge to maintain.

You may leave a plate of Marie biscuits by my door.

DOOR OPENS

How are they?

Asleep.

I almost wish they'd wake,

cos when they sleep,

I think.

And when I think,

I worry that I'm not in my right mind.

Sssh.

They take people away when they're not in their right mind.

And what would happen then?

KNOCK AT DOOR It's time for compline.

Sister Monica Joan?

What's that you're sewing?

It's a baby's nightdress.

Do you mean...?

I've no news yet.

But I've so much hope!

Every night, I put a handful of stitches into this,

tiny cross-stitches, like kisses.

I suppose it's a prayer.

A little present for the future.

KNOCKING AT DOOR

Sister Monica Joan, come in out of the rain.

I have no need of shelter.

But you, you, Dr Turner, if you wish to solve a mystery,

you must read this book.

I will. When I've taken you home.

KNOCKING AT DOOR

Sister Monica Joan, where have you been? You weren't at Compline.

She needs a warm drink, and tuck her up with a hot water bottle.

Hark, Sister! He is a physician, and a man, and expects to be listened to.

If only he had ears for the words of others.

Or eyes to read their books.

ALARM SOUNDS

Peter.

It's today.

You're going to have to put those books away

and get your jacket on, or we'll be late.

One of these is shinier than the other.

Did you get distracted halfway through?

Yes, I did.

Oh, good Lord.

It's a good job I'm out of your vision, young Sir,

because I'm sorry to say, I look exactly like my mother.

That's my girl. Come out and see the princess.

Fresh air will do us good. Won't it?

BABY COUGHS AND CRIES

Billy!

Something's happening.

-I'll call an ambulance.

-There's no time.

I'm worried we'll be late. The mother whose baby I'm bathing is going to meet me there at ten to.

Sister Monica Joan won't come out of her room.

She can probably smell all that lacquer on your hair.

I'd watch yourself when you light the spirit lamp.

I feel sorry for Princess Margaret.

Imagine having to look enthralled by someone boiling urine.

KNOCKING AT DOOR

< Help!

< Help!

Help me.

He's fitting!

Thermometer and mucus extractor. He can barely breathe.

Mother started running here as soon as the twitching started

so that's just under four minutes.

I've cleared his throat, and he's stopped fitting.

I brought the car.

The road's been closed for the royal visit. Might delay the ambulance.

-Temperature's 102, Doctor.

-I think I have a diagnosis.

Might I see the child?

Yes.

I will do nothing untoward.

I know you won't.

BABY GRIZZLES

Salt, like the sea.

There was no name for it, even then, though they knew its meaning.

There is a name for it now. It's called cystic fibrosis.

It's hereditary, which might explain the death of Billy Vickers' brother.

Can it be cured, Doctor?

It can be treated.

We don't want finger marks.

Rogue sultana.

All right, lads...

It was a dark and stormy night.

Ooooooh!

And the waves were crashing against the rocks!

Crasssssssssh! Crassssssssssh!

Inside the lighthouse, Grace Darling turns to her father

and she says...

Oh Father, what terrible weather.

Grace Darling is a girl!

You're supposed to do it in a girl's voice.

Like this, "Oh Father, what terrible weather!"

We'll start again...

Nurse Franklin should be doing this.

Her Royal Highness will be here in less than 15 minutes,

and not one member of staff from Nonnatus House is here.

Well, I hope when they do come, one of them's got Rennies in her bag.

Band ready!

Stop, girls.

I'm sorry.

What for?

If it runs in families, then I passed it on to 'em.

And so did I. You heard the doctors - it takes two.

This....

is what runs in families, Billy. This.

Everything else, all the things that are wrong or missing,

they're just...

Enzymes.

That's the word.

And the doctors say they can give them artificial ones.

This, no-one can make.

No-one can take away.

WOMAN MOANS IN PAIN

I say, excuse me. May I be of help?

We rang for the ambulance, and it hasn't come.

Bleeding Princess Margaret.

My husband probably built that road she's blocking.

I'm a nurse and a midwife. I'm quite happy to sit with Mrs Torpy until the ambulance arrives.

No. There's kids all over the place. I don't want the racket of them.

There you are.

I hope you're not attached to this settee.

My waters haven't gone yet.

Well, what's a loose cover when a baby's on its way?

Chuck us a tea towel, or something.

Here you are.

SHE MOANS

That's it!

That's it!

You show that bally pain who's boss!

Did I make a cow noise?

If I did, it means I'm getting to the sharp end.

Mrs Torpy, I think we should both remove our hats.

Sheryl, I want you to run straight to Nonnatus House. Tell them

a midwife is required at this address.

"Please" would be nice.

LOUD CRIES OF PAIN

Bravo! Bravo!

That's it!

Full marks! I can see baby's head.

Are you sure?

It's the least mistakable sight in the world. And the most miraculous.

Now then, old thing. Baby isn't quite with us yet.

So with the next pain, we're going to try and slow things down a bit.

A little less Gay Gordons, slightly more Valeta.

Small pushes now. Small pushes!

Righty-ho. Baby's with us as far as his chin.

Now I just want one more bally enormous push

and we'll all be done and dusted.

Jesus, Mary and Joseph! Is it not out yet?

I'm afraid not.

Seems we've got a bit of a shrinking violet on our hands.

Good God, would you just tell it to me straight?

I can't help you if I don't know what you're on about!

It seems that baby's shoulders are stuck.

If we work together, we can free them.

Just, just tell me what to do.

I want you on the floor, on all fours.

Yes?

That's it.

Jesus!

Now when you push, I'm going to see if I can help him on his way.

SHE CRIES IN PAIN

Keep it coming, keep it coming,

keep it coming, that's it!

It's not bloody budging, is it?

No.

Can you get on to your left-hand side?

Slowly, that's it.

Now, I need you to push absolutely with all of your strength.

With the next pain?

No. I need you to push now.

Come on, little soldier. Come on.

Play the game. Play the game.

BABY STARTS TO CRY

It's all over.

And everything's just begun.

Talk about a day's work.

Yes.

KNOCKING AT DOOR

Midwife! Open up! >

Chummy, are you all right? >

Never better.

You accomplished a very great deal yesterday, Mrs Noakes.

It certainly was a rather unusual afternoon.

It wasn't just the thrill of a royal visit.

You coped with an extremely difficult delivery alone.

You looked after Mrs Torpy wonderfully.

I'm so glad. Because I believe midwifery matters.

And caring for women matters.

It just so happens they're the only things I've ever been

the smallest shred of use at.

You're also a good wife, and an excellent mother.

Those are gifts too.

And I'm grateful.

I just worry that if Peter and the baby are the only things

I have to love, I'll end up crushing them

to death with the weight of my devotion.

I put novelty vegetables in lunch boxes

and sit up all night running up soft furnishings.

I do too much, and it's, well, it's never enough.

Do you want to come back to Nonnatus House?

Would you have me back, Sister?

We're always short-staffed - we're short of funds too.

I could find a position for you two days each week - if you could

find suitable care for Freddie, and if your husband were agreeable.

Peter's always agreeable, he's not like other men.

But I suppose I'm not like other women, really.

No. You're a nurse, and a midwife.

'Cystic fibrosis was, and remains, a serious,

'lifelong condition. Ian and Martin Vickers were

'among the first to know its name, and to stand and fight it,

'with their families by their sides.

'Knowledge is a seed that can take centuries to blossom.

'Understanding has grown, and the children's chances with it.

'Lessons unfold everywhere.

'And sometimes a glance in the mirror is enough.'

# What a difference a day makes

# There's a rainbow before me... #

Good luck, Chummy!

# Skies above can't be stormy

# Since that moment of bliss

# That thrilling kiss... #

PHONE RINGS

# It's heaven when you find romance... #

Nonnatus House. Midwife speaking.

# What a difference a day makes... #

We need a figurehead.

And it feels right it should be one of you.

It's going to be a tight ship from now on.

It weren't no love story, Nurse.

My husband can't ever see this baby.

Knowledge is power, ladies.

Will someone tell that man to pipe down?

The East End fascinates me.

It seems to exist in a world outside of itself.

I think it's called poverty.

My mum said having me was no more trouble than sneezing.

Not the forceps? Please, Nurse, promise me.

All I care about is you. It's maddening.

Do stop talking.

# It's heaven when you find romance

# On your menu

# What a difference a day makes

# And the difference is you... #