Moonlight Doctors

WHISPERED:

Kamari.

Kamari.

Kamari.

Kamari.

Kamari.

Kamari!

No!

Oh!

Right, good.

Er, also, the, er, journalist

is going to be here in ten minutes.

How exciting.

I have a meeting with Dr Clay

from 10 to 11 -

and you will need to

postpone his meeting with Mr Evans

until 11 o'clock.

Will do.

Right.

Oh, erm, I must have forgotten

to write it down,

cos I can't see anything scheduled.

Oh, it is, er,

it is just about the, er, finances.

We organised it last minute.

Er, please remind Dr Clay

when he comes in.

Morning.

Ooh. So, is poster boy

ready for his big interview?

Not really...and could you not

call me that, please?

Do you know, I always fancied

being a model.

I'm not a model.

Mmm. Being whisked off to Milan

or Paris on some photoshoot.

Sadly I didn't have the cheekbones,

or the legs,

or any discernible jaw line.

Morning, Jimmi.

Oh. don't forget you've got

a meeting this morning. Right.

Must be important,

being taken off schedule.

No, it's just, er,

changes to the timetable.

Oh. Mrs Tembe said it

was about finances.

Well, maybe we should

call the police.

Over a smashed window?

Doubt they'd come out for that.

But someone might have tried

to break in.

Nothing's been taken.

Maybe I left it open last night

and the wind caught it.

Oh, so it's your fault.

Well, you need to get it fixed.

I will.

Swanning round Africa all those

years, barely a thought for me.

Not true.

Do you think I want to be reminded?

What the...? he's not here yet?!

No.

Who?

Some journalist.

I'm being interviewed for that

Careers Without Limits campaign.

Ooh, rather you than me.

Hmm.

And after the podcast

I can't exactly say

I'm looking forward to it.

Yeah, but that was different.

This time,

you are a bit more in control.

You can get your point across.

Nonsense. Whatever you say, they are

going to write what they want.

Well, hopefully they'll be

interested

in my views on immigration.

Er, look at me! Ignore him.

Morning, doctor.

Morning.

She's in the front room, just go in.

Right, thanks.

Kamari?

Oh!

Oh!

Good. Right, how's the angina

been? Any more episodes?

No.

And the arthritis?

Well, I won't be winning any

marathons any time soon...

..but at least it's no worse

than it was.

Good.

Oh, I like those.

Where did they come from?

Oh, Cath put those up.

Souvenirs of her time in Kenya.

Oh, was she there long?

Over 20 years.

Barely a letter in all that time.

Oh, she'd still be there now

if her husband

hadn't run off with the maid.

Mum.

Well, it's true, isn't it?

You've only yourself to blame.

Letting yourself go

while being waited on by others.

Would you like a drink, Doctor?

Er, no. Thank you.

Two servants, she had.

Could you believe that?

Right, well, er, I just need

to take your blood pressure.

Everything all right?

What?

Yes. it's nothing.

Just call me Don.

OK.

So, I hope you don't mind

if I record you.

No, no, not at all.

Great. Well, let's get to it.

So, this Careers Without Limits

campaign, worthwhile project?

Oh, yeah.

Anything that inspires young people,

especially those from minority

backgrounds,

has got to be a good thing.

So, do you think

they've been denied access

to things like higher education?

In some cases -

but I certainly believe they feel

it's not an option for them.

It's all about aspirations.

Sorry.

Absolutely, no. No, no, it's fine.

Listen, this is just

the type of stuff we're after.

Ah, good.

So, what's up with you?

You've had a face like sin

ever since you came in.

I was down by the big tree...

..and I think I saw...

..someone.

Who?

For goodness' sake, who was it?

Kamari.

What are you talking about?

I saw her. I swear.

I don't understand. Do you mean...

..her ghost?

I don't know.

I called her name, and when

I looked again, she'd vanished.

Oh, well, you must have imagined it.

I definitely saw her. She was

wearing her yellow headscarf...

..and I don't know

if this is connected,

but it was posted through

the letterbox.

There's another crescent

hanging from the tree.

What is it?

Kamari's name. She told me.

In Kenya, it means...

..moonlight.

But...

But how has she returned?

Do you think it's to do with me?

What I did to her?

Oh, now, Mum, don't start that.

No, well, she'd still be alive

if it wasn't for me.

If she's somehow come back,

then it's my fault.

You don't know that.

They say suicides never find peace,

don't they?

Oh, the poor girl.

I could have helped her!

Oh, Mum, don't get all upset.

I'm sure there's an explanation.

You need to calm down.

Take your tablets

and I'll make us a nice cuppa.

I'm running late, so, erm,

I should be back by 12. All right.

OK, thanks, Valerie.

Dr Reid, it's Mum!

OK. I'm coming. I'm coming.

She took a dizzy turn.

Mrs French?

I'm all right.

Do you have any chest pain?

No.

She went all dizzy.

I saw Kamari, at the window.

So, these kids from these, er,

minority backgrounds,

are you honest with them?

Honest?

About how tough it is

to become successful.

I mean, you yourself, you must have

encountered a few obstacles.

Er, well, er, the biggest problem

I probably faced was, erm, finances.

With it taking seven years to train.

No, I'm talking

about discrimination.

Oh, well, I faced the odd racist

comment growing up -

but, I mean,

nothing with regards to my career.

Oh, come on. What about all those

posh medical students?

They must have given you some grief.

No, I made some really good

friends, actually.

The lecturers, then?

No.

Any run-ins

with your colleagues here?

Yeah, on occasion -

but, I mean, that's had

nothing to do with my race.

Are you sure about that?

Yeah. We're kind of like a bit

of a family here.

Oh. Great.

So, you're saying that nobody,

not your patients or the, er,

CCG ever treat you any differently?

That's right, yeah.

Do you think being

part of a minority

will affect your chances

of becoming a partner?

See, what I'm really trying to get

at is how this impacts on your job.

I think my experiences

will be very similar

to those of my white colleagues.

Now, if you don't mind,

erm, could we move the subject

back to immigration?

Yeah, sorry. Just trying to give

the interview a bit of context.

Yeah, I appreciate that.

Now, I do have some statistics.

Statistics?

Hmm.

Like, for example, did you know

12% of NHS workers are not British?

12%!

I mean, people have no idea

of the contribution

these people make to our society.

Er, sorry to interrupt.

I've not had my caffeine

fix this morning.

Would you do the honours

if I pop to the toilet?

Milky, two sugars.

It was only a mild angina attack.

So, she doesn't need

to go to hospital?

No, no, no. Just lots of rest -

but if it gets any worse,

then call an ambulance.

Who's, er...

Who's Kamari?

A young Kenyan woman who came

with me when I moved back here.

Lived in the barn conversion

and worked at our farm shop.

Right. Did, erm, something happen?

When I was away one night...

..she took her own life.

Drowned.

Oh.

Your mum seems to think

it was her fault.

Kamari came to the cottage

needing to talk...

..and she knocked

and knocked, and...

..Mum was in pain with her arthritis

and sent her away.

And that's when it happened?

Mum's blamed herself ever since.

So, she imagined Kamari

at the window.

I'm not so sure.

I could have sworn

I saw Kamari this morning, too.

What do you mean?

Well, I know it sounds crazy, but...

..I think she's haunting us.

Imagine Al's reaction

when we tell him that.

Yes, well, none of the staff

are going to be happy.

To be honest,

I have been dreading it.

Oh.

You must think I'm very silly,

rabbiting on about ghosts.

To be honest,

I don't know what to think.

Me neither.

I've been jittery all morning.

Really?

Woke up to find a window smashed.

Hmm. Do you think it's connected?

I really don't know. Probably not.

Well, I hope you get to the

bottom of it.

And, er, if you have any questions,

then give me a call,

about your mum I mean.

Bye, Doctor.

Bye-bye.

Hey, mate.

Is that journalist still here?

Oh, yeah. Um, he's got me

making him coffee now.

Dude, never trust the press.

They've got the morals

of a blocked toilet,

with their noses in the gutter,

trying to rake up dirt -

and if they can't find any,

they will make it up.

Look, I don't think

he's that bad, but...

..he does keep implying I'm

some sort of victim of racism.

Oh, does he now?

Hmm.

Right.

We've got one with an agenda.

OK, this is what you're going to do.

You're going to lull him

into a false sense of security.

Feed him something obvious,

something cliched.

How do you mean?

You know the stuff.

Spin him a yarn about how you

triumphed against adversity.

You know, you're an

underprivileged black guy

who was crushed by the white elite,

but you crawled

to the top in the end.

Look, I, I can't do that.

Yes, you can!

Come on - it's us against them.

Kamari?

No.

Who are you?

Ghosts? No. Emma...

..there is always a scientific

explanation - psychological issues,

erm, carbon monoxide poisoning

or exposure to infrasound.

Look, I'm not saying that I believe,

but it's a bit odd, isn't it?

Both of them seeing it?

What did they say it looked like?

Let me guess.

It was either transparent or it had

a white sheet on its head?

No, actually.

A young Kenyan woman

with a yellow headscarf.

Oh, really? That's interesting,

because we had a young Kenyan

woman into the drop-in

centre this morning,

and she had a scarf,

and that scarf was yellow.

Oh. What was wrong with her?

Well, she had, like, ectoplasm,

just oozing from her...

She'd cut her hand.

Broken window.

Broken window?

What was her name?

I don't remember their names.

Lydia? Linda? Anthony?

I think you've found your ghost,

Emma.

Scooby-Doo would be very

pleased with you.

Ha, ha.

The likeness is incredible.

Are you twins?

What do you want?

Look, you can't just

come into someone's house.

It's not the first time.

Kamari.

Kamari.

It was you. In my bedroom.

I wanted you to feel

a fraction of the fear Kamari felt.

What?

Waking up every morning,

drenched in sweat, terrified.

It's true. She was so disturbed.

She'd become paranoid.

Scared of everything.

I've been watching you for days.

Waiting for the chance

to get you alone.

Leave it.

I said leave it!

Outside. Now.

Hello?

Oh!

Dr Reid.

Yes, yes, I'm fine, I'm...

I'm much better, thank you.

What?

Is she called Kamari?

Er, no, no, no.

If you could, erm, well,

just pass it on to your daughter?

Yes, I will.

Oh, and, Edna,

maybe you should call the police.

You know, about the smashed window.

Well, I need to discuss

that with Cath first...

..but, er, thank you

for letting us know.

All right. Bye-bye.

Bye.

So, er, before we move on,

I just need to be clear.

You mentioned something

about discrimination as a child.

Yeah. Actually, erm...

Yeah?

Yeah, there was actually a bit more

than I let on before.

Erm, there was a bit of, erm,

racism on the estate.

Estate?

Oh, God.

Oh.

Here. This is where it happened.

Why are you doing this?

Kamari means serene and placid,

like the moon...

..but my name, Lyndia,

means defender -

and that is exactly what

I intend to do, defend her memory.

Here! There's a rope. Tie your feet.

No! Look, her death

had nothing to do with me.

She was depressed.

You've got it all wrong.

I don't think so.

I was away when Kamari drowned.

Tie your feet.

You have to believe me.

It was my mum who refused to help.

not me!

Please!

Do it! Now!

Please! You have to believe me!

Stop!

Me and my mum, er...

She was a drug user.

Yeah. I spent years trying

to help her.

And, er, where is she now?

Oh, she died,

in, er, police custody.

Oh, that's, er, terrible.

What about your father?

Oh, he was, er, never around.

All my brothers and sisters

have different dads, so...

Must have been tough.

Yeah well, you know,

growing up on the Churchill,

everyone had already given up

on me at school.

But you proved them all wrong.

All those middle-class,

white teachers!

Yeah.

What an incredible journey.

You mean - what an incredible

load of rubbish!

What?

Everything I just told you

is a complete lie.

Which you would've known

if you'd done any background

research on me at all.

I actually come from a very loving

and stable family

who have done nothing

but encourage and support me.

So, you've just been

wasting my time?

No.

No, no. You have been wasting mine.

You have no intention of publishing

my views on immigration, do you?

Well, that's not true.

You clearly have your own agenda -

racism in the NHS.

What, and you - you don't

believe that's important?

Of course I do. I'm obviously

all for equality and diversity,

but this, this is not the way

to go about it.

OK, now, hang on a minute...

No. I'm sorry, I'm sorry.

This interview is over.

I've called the police.

I don't care. Your daughter

won't testify against me.

Not after what she's done.

She caused my sister's death.

How many more times,

it's got nothing to do with me.

Tell her, Mum.

It's the truth.

It was me who wouldn't let her in,

the night she died.

I told you.

Something I've got to live

with forever.

I still have nightmares about it.

Kamari was in a bad place.

It's not your fault, Mum.

Kamari always spoke of you

with fondness.

I know you're looking for a reason,

someone to blame...

..but the truth is,

Kamari took her own life.

It was her choice.

You snake. You obviously don't

know the full story.

Why do you insist on accusing me?

We gave her a job, a home.

Letters she sent me.

It's all there.

The cruelty, the misery,

that you inflicted on her.

Well, if she said that,

then...then she was confused.

Kamari had problems.

But surely, I would have known,

I mean, or seen.

While you were trapped in your house

with arthritis,

she would lock Kamari

in the storeroom of the farm shop...

I never did that.

..and in the evenings, she would

sneak into the barn and beat Kamari.

You don't believe any of this,

do you? It's all nonsense.

Well, if it's true,

why didn't Kamari come to me?

She was terrified, of her.

Yes, she did start to change.

She got more nervous, and...

Well, that had nothing

to do with me.

And those bruises on her shoulder.

You said she got them from a fall.

Mum. Listen.

Enough!

It's all here.

You treated Kamari like

she was your possession.

Drove her to her death. You!

How could you!

Why didn't you go to the police?

Prison is the easy option.

I want real justice.

I'll be back to finish this.

Tomorrow. Next year.

Who knows?

And I won't stop until it's you

drowning in this place.

Stop! Police! Come back!

I meant what I said, you know,

about calling your editor.

And say what? It's all on here.

You can't exactly deny it.

It's all made up.

You can't print that.

Oh, please, don't tell me

how to do my job.

I'm not, but...

Look, I can only

work with what I've got.

Now, if you don't like that,

you shouldn't have fed me

a pack of lies.

I'll send you

a copy of the finished article.

Why are they going?

Without Lyndia or the letters,

there isn't enough evidence.

Just what you said.

Oh!

But they're going to

investigate further.

I can't believe you told them.

What do you expect?

Mum, I know you're ashamed of me,

but do you really want to see me

in prison?

I just couldn't ignore what you've

done. All those years in Africa.

You changed.

I didn't mean for this to happen.

I didn't know she'd take

her own life.

A young girl has lost her life,

and you, you don't seem to care.

Of course I do...

..but it's not that simple.

You haven't lived in Africa.

These people, they're not like us.

People?

Yes!

It's a cultural thing,

the way they are.

Take the ones who worked for me.

No sense of decency.

Didn't show me any respect.

Well, perhaps if you'd

treated them differently.

It wouldn't have made any

difference.

They don't have the same standards.

They need to be disciplined.

Disciplined?

It's the only way.

The squalid lives they lead.

They're more like a...

What I mean is...

Stop it!

Stop it!

That poor girl.

What about me?

You've said you missed me...

..but when I moved back here,

you spent more time with her.

She was just a timid little thing.

She needed looking after.

And I didn't?

Is that why you hurt her?

Because... Because you were jealous?

All I'm saying is...

..I needed to know that you

were there for me.

I was in a bad way after James left.

So you thought you'd take

it out on Kamari?

SOFTLY: No.

Until she couldn't take any more!

I'm going to go away for a bit.

I'm going to stay

with your brother.

How long for?

I don't know.

But what about me?

Mum?

I'm still your daughter.

Oh.

Who's there?

WHISPERED:

Kamari.

Kamari.

Kamari.

Who's there?

WHISPERING GETS LOUDER AND FASTER

Kamari, Kamari, Kamari, Kamari.

Lily's 15 years old.

She's eight months pregnant.

She's eight month's pregnant?

No.

What is it, then?!

It's my mum's funeral.

Can you shut up?!

Why would you say

something like that?

Can you just give me some space?

Is it something I've done?

You know, I'm trying to

build bridges.

Every Sunday night we have a long

telephone conversation...

..but the bridge isn't

quite built yet.