Episode 8 Call the Midwife

MATURE JENNY: 'Women write their history

'in the words that pass between them.'

Hello.

'Too often, we leave no trace beyond the children born,

'the clothing stitched,

'the service given, the choices made - IF there was choice at all.

'But in 1961, we were choosing routes

'and taking byways never walked before.'

'We did not hesitate or stumble

'because all roads were unexplored and everything was possible.'

Yesterday's referral letters for the Family Planning Association Clinic.

If you sign them now, we'll get them off ahead of this morning's batch.

There must be a queue right round the block at that clinic.

There's a queue right round our waiting room this morning.

Sandrine Weller's in next. Miss.

Unmarried women can't be referred for oral contraception!

It's no better than the Dutch cap in that regard.

Rules are rules, Patrick.

It isn't what we hoped for.

No, but it's a start.

And you still change lives for the better.

-Coo-ee! Violet!

-Hello, Tessie!

You remember Tessie, don't you, Fred?

Her brother married my cousin, Enid.

Yes, and he was never happy again.

Mitchell, put your shoulders back and say hello to Violet.

-Hello, Violet.

-Hello, Mitchell, love.

I'm sorry it didn't work out for you in Australia.

I've a bloody good mind to write to that Prime Minister.

They're quick enough to ship him out there for £10 a head,

and then if they don't like it and they want to come home,

it's pay the full whack for your ticket or swim!

I heard you was working on a sheep farm.

That can't have been very pleasant.

The things they had him chopping off would have turned your stomach.

Suffice to say, it weren't just wool.

I'm a city lad, Violet.

I've got steady work on the tools in Lipkin's Plumbing now.

Ah, good for you! The East End raised you.

Now you can get stuck in and sort those khazies out!

Thank you(!)

He doesn't need compost all over his lapels.

We're on our way to a consultation.

THEY CHUCKLE

Mum, there's a notice in the window.

"Mr Hereward is available in the church vestry

"between 12 noon and 2pm each weekday."

Oh, so much for "knock and it shall be opened unto you"!

KNOCKING Coo-ee! Reverend?

Oh! We want to organise a wedding.

-Well, then, I should put a shirt on.

-I think that would be preferable.

Mitchell's got a fiancee. She's Australian.

He's had to leave her behind until they have enough for her passage,

and now she's on the SS Canberra and...

well, she's in the family way.

How far along...in the family way?

Far enough.

Mitchell never knew when he set off, and I can't say I'm sorry,

because if he had, he never would have come home.

I'm sure he wouldn't.

But, Mitchell, as soon as your fiancee arrives,

we could start to plan the wedding.

It takes three weeks to call the banns.

We haven't got three weeks. We might not even have three days!

The ship was delayed at Cape Town

and by the time they dock, Noelle might have given birth!

Well, under the circumstances,

no-one will condemn her, or the child.

It will still be a bastard.

Mum!

I want them married the minute that boat docks.

My goodness, young Lenny, you are filling out nicely!

Have you got bricks in your pockets?

Marbles? Hm!

Well, must be all that extra milk we're getting into you.

Right, off you hop,

and Sister Monica Joan will give you a liquorice allsort.

It is Sooty who is handing out the liquorice allsorts today, not I.

Mrs Clarke?

You've got her well wrapped up.

Oh, she feels the cold, does Susan.

And it's gone quite nippy out.

I'd have loved a little girl.

Oh, she's got the face of an angel.

BABY CRIES

Well, I wish she had the lungs of an angel!

You should see her kicking off when something doesn't suit.

Proper Miss Determined, she is.

It's probably just as well.

You can take that blanket off

if she's hot. I don't mind, honest.

Mrs Mullucks and Susan?

Yeah.

You've got quite a grip in those little fingers, Miss Mullucks.

She can hold a rattle in them,

Dr Turner, and a spoon!

She can't get it in her mouth yet, but...

Most children can't feed themselves until they're a wee bit older.

Last time we were in the children's hospital, there was

a little boy born just like Susan, only with proper legs and feet...

..and he was having his fingers amputated.

Doctors said they'd be no use to him cos they were so misshapen.

I think you should encourage Susan to lean towards things,

Rhoda, try to pick them up.

She has some muscle at the shoulder

and it may be she can develop it.

Should I make her an appointment with the occupational therapist?

RHODA SOBS Oh, Rhoda! Don't cry.

You're doing so well!

I remember you saying that to me when I was having her.

"You're doing so well! You're doing so well!"

And I thought, once I'd pushed her out, the pain would be over.

I'll be out your hair in a minute.

Sister Winifred had a fainter. Sweet tea and a ginger nut required.

What happened to you?

Baby Williams evacuated his bowels at the weighing station.

You can't go back out covered in all-sorts!

That is a very copious stool!

Have you spoken to the mother about his feeding pattern?

Would YOU like to talk to her?

I'm very happy to do the child-development checks.

No, Nurse. You know my policy and I am standing firm.

Babies are a two-handed job. I do not handle newborns any more.

Here, here. It's creased but clean as a whistle.

You make sure you speak to Mrs Williams.

When she's tucked in her pram or all wrapped up, it's not so bad.

She looks like any other baby, and people don't stare.

Or when she's in the house, I just have her in a nappy and a vest,

and she sits there, all propped up, smiling like nothing's the matter.

And then I remember in the middle of the night.

I remember that she's got no arms...

and no legs.

I just lie there, shaking.

Are you getting much sleep, Rhoda?

Because we can help with that.

I can give you a mild sedative

and you can take it only when you need it.

It's called Distaval.

If I can't fix her, I've got to fix myself.

On my next day off, I'm going to buy myself a new pair of pantyhose.

Pantyhose? What on earth are pantyhose?

They're a new kind of suspender-less stocking.

They've had them in America for years.

You make that sound like a recommendation!

But think, Phyllis - no metal clips, no buttons, no belts,

nothing digging in.

Just silky, whisper-light,

nylon clinging like a second skin from waist to toe.

Sounds like a breeding ground for yeast!

THEY LAUGH

Oh, I wish we had one of those plastic tomatoes!

I can't get anything out of this bottle at all!

LOUD BANGING

Is there nowhere a woman can get 40

uninterrupted winks around this place?

Five minutes to gather my thoughts before Compline!

That's all I ask - and what do I get?

Conversations about nylons

and sauce bottles being banged like it's going out of fashion!

Sorry, Sister Evangelina.

I take it we can't tempt you to a savoury snack?

No.

Oh! Morning, Tessie!

Violet!

I heard about Mitchell's fiancee.

Oh, bless the girl, coming all that way across the world!

Love knows no boundaries.

-Who told YOU?

-Mr Ballard at the stationer's.

And he said you was in yesterday, ordering wedding invitations.

Yes.

And today, I've come to you to order two dozen nappy pins,

two dozen terry squares, six pairs of plastic pants,

a heavy-duty sanitary belt and a packet of maternity towels.

And none of it's for me.

I see.

Well, you'll have to get her signed up with the Sisters, Tessie.

Mum, Noelle's ship's in tomorrow!

It was in the paper. I called in the dock office

and they said it was definite!

You'd better add a maternity girdle to that list.

I have my doubts about Australian foundation garments.

Congratulations!

That's absolutely perfect, Tripti.

THEY SPEAK SYLHETI

There's no need to thank me, Muna.

It's all part of the job.

Now, let's get you on the bed and see if we can have a listen to Baby.

Oh! Mr Valluk, I beg your pardon. Are you working shifts again?

I'm sorry, but he will not look.

It's all right.

Once I delivered a baby with the father fast asleep beside his wife!

But he was drunk, and Mr Valluk just looks tired.

It's not the home we left, but it is a new home.

That is why I want the baby born here, in my bed.

And if that is what you want, that is what you shall have.

-Something has bite you?

-No, not at all.

Hello, Mum!

What do you think you're doing, pitching up early?

They let her off the boat first because she's in the family way.

There's certainly no missing it, is there?

And here she is. This is Noelle.

I was going to put balloons up and a notice saying, "Welcome!"

But I didn't want you to think I was common.

The house looks lovely. Can I call you Tessie, Mrs Anselm?

I think you'd better call me Mum. Come on.

I think I'm allergic to fleas.

I never get just a little bite mark, always a great itchy welt.

There are some houses I go to where I have to wear bicycle clips

to stop the fleas going up my trouser legs.

And yet people try so hard. It's almost always the landlord's fault.

Where there are bad drains, there are rats,

-and where there are rats, there are fleas.

-Or bed bugs.

Bed bugs can really sink their teeth in

when you're sitting with the dying.

And on that romantic note, where are we going to go this evening?

I have it on good authority that the Palace Picture House was

fumigated just last week.

I don't want to go to the cinema tonight.

I want to talk to you.

I'm always agreeable to that.

And perhaps dance a little?

I'm agreeable to that, too.

Although, please note, I'm not wearing any Brylcreem,

so wherever we go, the walls will be quite safe.

I can't believe I'm finally getting my own passport!

I can't believe you've never had one.

Your dad was a shipbroker who travelled the world.

Mine had a draper's shop in Pembrokeshire.

I'm amazed my mother doesn't get vaccinations

when she comes to London to visit Auntie Blod!

When's she coming again?

Monday. I already wrote to ask her to bring my birth certificate.

What is it?

That woman's here again -

the one that sneaks the gin into her coffee.

I used to think she must be on the game

but I've never seen her with a client.

I just think she's lonely or heartbroken.

Or both, maybe.

She looks familiar, somehow, but I don't think I know her.

I've no objection to them converting the attics at the Mother House

but why do they have to send us all their junk and tat?

I have merely managed to unearth two copies of

Jessica's First Prayer and The Collected Works Of Walter Scott.

That sounds like Sister Eustace.

There was always a strange streak about her.

I never knew if it was violence or romance.

This one seems to be full of party frocks.

There must be half a dozen of them and they're all white.

It's my wedding dress!

Really?

I'll never forget putting this on to take my vows

and enter the novitiate.

I had to wear high heels with it, and Mother Alice made me

practise walking up and down in them until I had blisters!

And this one's mine.

It was almost thrown out

because there was silver embroidery on the sleeves!

In the end, I had to unpick every stitch.

I felt rather sorry for the bride that donated it.

I was quite sad when I was told I'd be making my vows in my habit.

I hadn't realised the Order had given up the custom until then.

Sister, the expression on your face was worth 1,000 frills

and falderals! And I don't mind telling you,

I felt like an absolute sideshow in my big white frock!

I'm sure you looked lovely.

It was just a load of nonsense!

I'd never had any dreams of a wedding day.

I had, once upon a time.

I think my mother had, too.

Mostly sad for her.

Is this one yours, Sister Evangelina?

Ooh! If there's enough crepe de chine in it to make a parachute,

yeah, it must be!

Thine, and mine also...

..though I was tall and needed no heels to boost my height.

Oh, Sister, really?

We have desired to go

Where springs not fail...

To fields where flies no sharp and sided hail...

And a few lilies blow.

And on that note, may I suggest we put on some milk for the Horlicks?

Sister Evangelina, I've just been called out to Tripti Valluk

and I'm slightly nervous about going on my own.

Whatever for?

The family's housing is so poor.

The only tap's outside and I know the toilet's broken,

and even with my little bits of Sylheti, there'll be

communication problems with anyone other than Tripti herself.

Little bits of Sylheti?

I've been picking words up and writing them down phonetically

when I can.

You don't often remind me of myself when young.

You're too disorganised and too slim!

But I remember teaching myself some words of Yiddish

when I first came to Poplar.

SHE SPEAKS YIDDISH

What does that mean?

"I can see Baby's head!" and, "We're almost there!"

Welcome words to any mother after a hard labour,

but I reckon they deserve to hear them in their own language.

Get your bag, I'm coming with you. But you're the midwife, mind!

I'm just there to do the donkey work.

Fred, this front tyre is as soft as butter!

I told you last week, yesterday, and I'm telling you now!

Well, I keep pumping it up. I don't know what's the matter with it.

How about something beginning with "P" and ending in "uncture"?

Sister Evangelina...

I can't stand here lecturing you in rudimentary engineering!

Nurse Gilbert has a patient waiting.

Oh! Whose dinner's THIS supposed to be?

Ah, Muna must have prepared it for later.

After the birth, Tripti

and her baby will go into a period of seclusion, where they'll

just rest and not see anyone, including her husband, for a while.

Can't fault that arrangement.

At home in Sylhet, women sleep on floor for one week after baby comes.

Here, there is no space on floor. Room too small.

Too many unwelcome visitors, if you ask me.

Oh! Have you got any soap, Mrs Valluk? Fairy, Lifebuoy,

anything will do.

Yesterday, I cleaned everything, all of room.

You may start feeling the urge to push soon, Tripti.

Sunlight! That'll do.

TRIPTI CRIES OUT

TRIPTI CRIES OUT

Do you want to unpack the gas and air,

just in case we need it for the final stretch?

In my view, Nurse, if mother's doing well, you don't

want to upset the applecart by waving it under her nose.

TRIPTI YELLS

Um, I'll go down to the tap, fill the bucket.

GROANING

BABY CRIES

The placenta will come soon, Tripti.

It's only been half an hour, and it can take up to an hour.

This water's perfect for Baby's bath.

We can't keep feeding the meter just to keep it on the simmer.

We've got candles for if the gas runs out,

but would YOU be able to bath Baby now, Sister Evangelina?

No, you know I don't handle newborns any more.

I made a rule, and I'm sticking by it.

But this room isn't very warm and the water may go cold

while I wait with Tripti, and we may put off cleaning Baby.

It would be very helpful if you stepped in.

Oh!

I think this young lady has been here before...

Maybe not in this continent, maybe not in weather like this,

but she's been here.

Come on, little girl. Bad-oop, bad-oop, bad-oop! That's it.

I hope your mummy's got some vests

for you to wear

underneath your pretty clothes.

TRIPTI GROANS

BABY CRIES

Go and see to Mother, Nurse Gilbert.

Baby and I are getting along...

..just fine. Yeah.

Would you like some tea and toast, Sister Evangelina?

I reckon we've earned more than toast.

There's half a chocolate-button cake in a tin in the bottom cupboard.

Have a look at the back, behind the All-Bran.

Oh. There's none left.

I fear our noble friends, the rats,

must have been there in advance of us.

Oh, yes, those special rats that can open tins

and only live in convent kitchens(!)

Oh! Cocoa-flavoured buttercream

and a rogue splinter of chocolate button? You are slipping up, Sister.

You missed a bit!

I chanced upon some water biscuits.

They have no lure for rats.

Do you still want a cup of tea?

Suppose I shall have to settle for one,

seeing as it's the only sustenance I'm going to get!

I'll bring it over.

Oh!

Oh!

Here you are, Sister. Keep the chill off you while you wait.

Thank you.

Morning, Sister!

I can't say I blame you!

I love a sit-down before breakfast - that's if I can get one.

Best bit of the day.

..especially if I nod off and wake up to the smell of my Violet

frying bacon.

Oh! Sorry!

Sister Evangelina?

Oh, no!

-Look!

-What's this?

Have you given any more thought to buying Angela

a doll's pram for her birthday?

-Would you like it?

-She always makes such a beeline

for the one at the community centre!

Why spend all that money

when she seems perfectly happy with a basket of sticks and pine cones?!

FRONT DOOR OPENS

Ah, just in time for some bacon! Where's your scarf?

It's a school scarf,

so I wear it on school days, and today's a Saturday!

Ah, which means we get our copy of The Lancet!

Mr Miller sent you a copy of the Exchange & Mart as well today.

I asked him if it was a mistake but he said no.

It isn't. We're going to be looking at the "doll's pram" section.

Ooh, thank you. What a lovely house!

Dad, she understands everything we say!

Patrick, you're needed at Nonnatus House.

I would put money on another stroke -

a massive bleed to her brain that took her while she slept.

But she hadn't seen you or any doctor

since she came back to Poplar.

Will there have to be a postmortem?

It's a sudden death. I will have to inform the coroner.

You shall not take her from this place!

Sister Monica Joan, Doctor Turner has to inform the authorities.

He has no choice and no say in what is ordered.

The Lord himself assured us of the resurrection of the body.

How is our Sister to rise again...

..if her earthly form is not intact?

She will need eyes to see...

..a brain to think...

..a heart to love.

If you mutilate her now, you maim her for eternity.

Oh, my dear.

We cannot address this now.

You and I will join our Sisters in the chapel and we will pray

when we have attended to all that is essential.

Do you suggest that prayer is not essential?

I suggest that prayer can wait.

Whatever must be done on Earth,

we know our Sister is in Heaven.

It is her reward, and we must not resent or fight it.

I spoke to the coroner's office.

Given her recent stroke and the impairment she was left with,

it looks as though we can avoid a postmortem.

Oh, Patrick!

I'm sorry.

I know how much she meant to you, to everyone.

Who am I going to spar with now?

I'm not crying about that.

I was, but I decided Sister Evangelina wouldn't approve,

so I sent Timothy out with Angela

and went into the surgery to see to the morning's post.

They're withdrawing Distaval?

With immediate effect.

Babies have been born deformed, and they think there's a link with it.

This is official?

I rang the Board of Health.

I didn't think there'd be anyone there today,

but the line was engaged.

I didn't think that was a good sign, so I looked in The Lancet...

..and there's a letter to the editor.

Thalidomide. It's from Distillers Biochemicals.

But they just say that there is a possible association with

harmful effects on the foetus.

And it also says there are only two reports from abroad

and none from Great Britain.

I don't understand it.

But this letter came, Patrick! Distaval's being withdrawn!

Shelagh, I have prescribed Distaval to dozens of patients...

..perhaps scores!

Deformed babies have been born in our district.

We need to speak to someone...

..and then we need to act.

I don't think anything's going to happen just yet, Noelle.

I feel like a bit of a chump,

calling you out when there was no need.

If a quick home visit helps you to relax

and look forward to your wedding, that's all to the good.

It's like being royalty.

Mr Hereward says that the special licence

came from the Archbishop of Canterbury.

Grand as well as quick!

Is that your outfit?

I brought the maternity dress from home,

and Tessie took charge of the accessories.

We tried and tried to find me a proper gown

but all the dressmakers were busy and...well,

I'm not going to get anything off-the-peg in my condition, am I?

Perhaps not...

..but I love the colours and Tessie certainly knows how to pick a hat.

It's just not very bridal.

It's not like I thought it would be when I was little and used

to run round with one of Mum's lace curtains on my head on a wash day.

She used to say she couldn't wait to see me all in white.

You'll still look beautiful, Noelle.

But will I feel like a bride?

No, I won't call back later.

I'm quite content to remain on hold, thank you.

Patrick, you don't know how the filing system works!

Leave it alone or come and hold the telephone instead of me.

-'Can we ask you hold the line, caller?'

-Very well.

News travels so quickly.

Forget-Me-Not Lane Florists just telephoned

and offered to provide the wreath of our choice for her, free of charge.

But our vow of poverty was so very important to her.

Everything she ever had, she tried to give away.

I thought of that when I was looking at Noelle's wedding outfit.

It was as though I heard Sister Evangelina's voice.

Really?

Clearly as I hear God's, when something deep and precious happens,

as clearly as I ever heard hers when she was telling me off,

which happened quite often over the years.

It happened to me, too.

But this time, she was saying, "Poor girl,

"all the way from Australia,

"Tessie Anselm as a mother-in-law and no proper wedding dress.

"Give her mine, for pity's sake!"

SHE CHUCKLES

Well, now's not the time to start arguing with her, is it?

Is it?

SHE CRIES

PHONE RINGS

Nonnatus House?

Sister,

I'm afraid I have to ask you to come to the surgery as soon you can.

Is it to do with the coroner's arrangements?

No.

ENGINE STARTS

I thought you might like a cuppa, Fred. It's well-sugared.

Thank you.

I'm all right, I just, er...

I didn't know what to do so I thought I'd come and do this.

Well, I'm sure Sister Evangelina would be grateful, Fred.

No, she wouldn't.

She never once said "thank you" in 18 years of bicycle maintenance!

She was a grafter, and grafters don't waste time on pleasantries.

I'm just doing

what she would have done if the shoe was on the other foot.

I'm just doing what I do.

Somebody's fudging something, if you ask me.

There must have been more than just one or two cases.

And pound to a penny, there's been some in THIS country.

What about Baby Cottingham -

the limbless baby that died in St Cuthbert's?

Ruby, the child's mother, was one of our patients.

I was with Ruby when she was in labour.

When the baby was finally born... in theatre,

the surgeon said, "Oh, my God. Another one!"

The Officer for Health told us that

the drug was banned in Germany last week.

It's called Contergan over there, but it's the same drug -

Thalidomide.

The first thing we thought of was little Susan Mullucks,

but her mother was never prescribed Distaval until last week.

We can't be sure that there's any connection at all

until we find out more.

Well, never mind finding out more. Get the tablets she HAS got off her.

Who's to say she won't conceive again and keep on taking them?

Doctor, there must be dozens of women, pregnant and otherwise,

who have been prescribed this.

Yes, by me.

I don't know how to put it right!

Patrick, sit down.

Sister, go back to Nonnatus House.

You have things to see to there that no-one else can do.

And send me Nurse Mount.

She's a champion Rolodexer and she stays calm under fire.

Doctor, you're not to blame.

Oh, I will be, if one more woman,

pregnant or otherwise, swallows one more of those vile pills.

We brought nothing into this world.

-SISTERS:

-And it is certain that we can carry nothing out.

The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away.

Blessed be the Name of the Lord.

SHE SOBS

-SISTERS:

-Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord.

Even so saith the Spirit, for they rest from their labours.

KNOCKING

The undertaker's arrived.

I just don't understand it.

We now have a list of seven women who were given Distaval

specifically to help with intractable morning sickness,

but they all gave birth to normal, healthy babies.

Are you sure?

They were all taking it from as early as nine weeks into pregnancy,

but none of them started sooner than October of last year.

And prior to that, it was only ever prescribed as a sedative.

What about Jeffrey Gallagher's mother?

He was the little chap born without thumbs.

The Gallaghers left the district.

They went to live in Haverhill in Suffolk.

I've got a positive for Ruby Cottingham.

She's had it recently,

but she wasn't prescribed it during pregnancy.

Then I looked further back.

Her husband was away at sea and she had three little lads underfoot.

Dr Turner diagnosed her with anxiety leading to sleeplessness.

I'm sorry.

She must have had some left, kept them in the cupboard.

People do.

PHONE RINGS

-Turner speaking.

-'Turner, it's Jacques here.'

-Dr Jacques?

-'You rang me earlier.'

Yes, yes, it's good of you to take my call.

'We've got work to do. I think we're all in the same boat.'

Yes.

You're sure you want her to be at rest here, Sister?

There'll be so many wanting to pay their respects.

The thing is, we East End people see Sister Evangelina as one of our own.

I know.

She's one of our own, too...

..and I'm not sure we can spare her yet.

If you would grant us the honour, Sister,

Crellin & Sons would like to take care of everything -

the coffin, the hearse, the burial place, the headstone.

There will be no charge.

No charge at all?

I was born two months before I should have been,

and I nearly killed my mother.

Sister Evangelina bathed me in olive oil...

..wrapped me up in lint...

..and sat by my mum's bed for seven days.

She never took a penny piece.

And now it's time for me to pay back what I owe.

Rhoda Mullucks' sister, Ava, left Poplar two years ago

and moved to Harlow.

Dr Jacques prescribed Distaval for her for insomnia

shortly afterwards.

She would have had the tablets in supply 18 months ago,

round about the time that Susan was conceived.

So we write to Jeffrey Gallagher's GP,

warn of the possible connection to his missing thumbs.

And we ask Rhoda Mullucks if she took her sister's tablets.

And we tell Ruby Cottingham why her baby died.

I think Sister Julienne will want to do that.

Yes.

-Mr Tunnicliffe?

-Yeah?

-May I speak to your wife?

It's regarding a problem with her prescription medication.

I must take them, I'm afraid, Mrs Jones,

even if there are just two remaining.

Mrs Michaels?

Prescription patients have been passing Distaval around

as if they were nuts at a party.

I've knocked at Rhoda Mullucks' house twice.

There's no-one in. Her neighbours don't know where they've gone.

Mrs Cottingham.....

Last time I saw you, I was in the hospital.

Called me Ruby then.

Ruby, your eldest boy told me where I might find you.

I'd stay home more, but I can't stand the noise of them.

Boys CAN be a trial.

Wanted that little girl so much, Sister.

I know.

I thought if I gave her a name, might help her go away...

..that if I made her into someone, I could forget her.

But...I can't. Can't forget someone you never knew.

And the names I do try and give her

just blow round my head like leaves, bits of feathers.

Some days she's Amanda...

..some days she's Janine or Rose.

They're all beautiful names, Ruby.

I can't catch her, can't pin her down.

Ruby, I came because...

..because it seems there's some new information which

might help us to understand why your little girl was born so poorly.

She was poorly, wasn't she?

You saw?

I did.

It seems possible that you may have inadvertently taken some medication

whilst you were expecting her that caused a lot of damage.

What does "inadvertently" mean?

It means it wasn't your fault.

The medication is called Distaval, and it's being withdrawn from sale.

You'll be wanting these, then?

Yes.

Can I just take one last one?

I'm all done with the iron if you want it.

It's this hat that's giving me the run-around.

Not had it out of its box since I buried Mother.

I just thought I'd get ahead with mine.

I'm first on call, and if I'm called out, I may not get a chance.

Didn't you want to go out with the others?

Not to the Hand And Shears.

I really didn't fancy a complexion-ruining evening

of orange squash and pork scratchings.

I can't say I blame you.

But please don't offer me a cup of Horlicks.

If you do, I might burst into tears.

God love you, but you look lonely.

I'm so sorry! Oh!

And you didn't even offer me any Horlicks!

You know what I like about you, lass? You're a trier.

And if there's any justice in the world, you'll get your reward.

I hope so.

But it doesn't have to be a man, Nurse Crane.

It's not actually the lack of a man that bothers me.

When I see Tom and Barbara together now,

-I don't see what

-I

-might have had - I see what THEY have.

They belong somewhere, and they're contented.

I can't tell you how much I'd love to feel like that.

But it doesn't have to be because of a man. It really doesn't.

Trixie,

there are some women who make a very decent fist of being spinsters.

I like to think I'm one of them,

and if we sidestep the small detail of her marriage to Jesus,

so was Sister Evangelina.

But you aren't, and there's no use pretending otherwise.

No.

Come on.

Iron your funeral outfit.

Let's see what Father Christmas brings you.

Nine months gone

in Sister Evangelina's wedding dress.

You'll have to hold it lower than that.

No, lower.

You'll be glad you did when the photographs come out.

You'll be glad you wore white and all.

You look a picture!

I just wanted to see her

before the crowds come in.

Of course you do.

I wanted to see her myself.

I used to be so terrified of her.

Me too.

And I'm generally not the terrified type.

But she taught me so much.

Me too.

I don't know why you don't move in with your Auntie Blod

and save on all that rent you're paying in the convent.

If I decide to train as a midwife,

I have to live in hospital-approved accommodation.

East Finchley will be too far away.

What do you mean, train as a midwife?

You don't want to be doing such a nasty, personal sort of job!

I do it.

I know you do.

You two are as thick as thieves.

And this butter is too cold for these teacakes!

Mrs Busby, would you give Delia her birth certificate?

What for? So she can book herself onto this training course?

No, so she can apply for a passport

because she isn't going to Pembrokeshire

for her holiday next spring.

She's coming to Paris with me.

I'm not an unsophisticated woman.

I've been to Jersey...

..and the Isle of Man.

You always did things your own way.

I can bear it if you upset me.

I'm your mum...

..and you're a grown woman.

Thank you, Mrs Busby.

Just don't do anything to make your dad cry.

THEY CHEER

Congratulations, darling.

I feel like I can breathe out now!

I don't. Reckon I need a lie-down.

ROWDY SINGING

SHE PANTS

I kept hoping it would all just fizzle out,

but I tried that when I first found out I was in the family way

and it didn't work then, either.

SHE GASPS Ooh! Ooh!

SHE CLEARS HER THROAT

Mr Hereward!

You know where the phone is - go and ring Nonnatus House!

I just don't think we should push our way to the front of the queue.

It's exactly the kind of thing Sister Evangelina wouldn't like.

She wouldn't like me wasting time when I could be at work, either,

or you making yourself late for Scouts.

Mrs Turner?

We went to the seaside at the weekend.

It was a bit blowy, but it did us all good,

including Susan.

And then I heard the news.

The news?

About Sister Evangelina.

Oh.

You're saying I took a pill?

Just one pill could do this to my baby?

How many did you take, Rhoda?

I don't know! My sister gave me some in an envelope.

She said they'd help me sleep.

Better than a gin, she said!

And I don't have gin in. We were on a budget.

I don't know how many I took!

Rhoda...Rhoda...nobody knows for sure what's happened,

but nobody's going to rest until questions have been answered.

What sort of questions?

"Why did you take them, Rhoda?"

"Why don't you just get on with it?"

"Why do you have to have a stupid pill to make you happy

"all the time?"

You are not to blame, Rhoda, I promise you.

SHE SOBS

Bernie's taken to calling her "my beautiful".

I first heard him say that

when she was about four months old

and I thought, "That's it,

"we're going to be all right.

"Susan's going to be all right because her daddy loves her."

And then, the very next day,

some mate of his from work

crossed over the street because he saw us coming,

and I never heard him say "beautiful" again

for ever such a long time...

..and then yesterday at the seaside.

Bernie would have been the one to cross over once.

Maybe I would have, too.

But he can't, I can't.

Not now, because she's ours.

I'm sorry, Susan.

I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry.

SHE MOANS

-Come on, Noelle!

-Good girl!

-That's it!

Why is it taking so long?

It isn't. I promise you, it isn't.

MUSIC: Let's Twist Again by Chubby Checker

# Round and round and up and down we go again

# Oh, baby, make me know you love me so... #

Come on!

# Twist again, like we did last summer

# Come on, twist again Like we did last year

# Twist... #

SHE SCREAMS

BABY CRIES

It's a little boy, Noelle.

Oh, he's beautiful!

But that dress is ruined!

That dress just had the best day of its life.

It's a boy, Mitchell!

MATURE JENNY: 'None of us know how long the things we love will last.'

People are lining the route all the way to the church, Sister.

I've stopped the traffic as far as the Commercial Road.

Thank you.

It's the least we can do if we aren't allowed to give her flowers.

The coffin does look so very bare.

'Sister Evangelina went to her rest surrounded by her colleagues

'and mourned by people she had nursed,

'wheeled through streets imprinted with her footsteps and her faith.'

They mark her spirit as well as any bloom...

..and deserve their rest as much as she.

MUSIC: Till by Shirley Bassey

# Till the moon deserts the sky

# Till all the seas run dry

# Till then I'll worship you

# Till the tropic sun grows cold

# Till this young world grows old

# My darling, I'll adore you

# You are my reason to live

# All I own I would give... #

'If she WAS looking down that day,

'she would have been surprised to see she was no longer there

'and vexed that service had come to a standstill.

'The world was hers no longer, and she wanted no memorial,

'but her work carried on in the love that lived beyond her

'and the hope that knew no end.'

# Till lovers cease to dream

# Till then I'm yours, be mine. #