Father's Day Holby City

This is our moment. Let's go for it.

"I know it's cowardly to leave you a note

"but I couldn't look you in the face and explain.

"I love the idea of you,

"just as you love the idea of me."

20 milligrams of labetalol, please.

Sats deteriorating. We're losing her.

You didn't check the notes properly, did you?

You say anything, ANYTHING

and you are out of a job by Christmas, do you understand?

Wow! Tears at work. Colette Sheward, your boss.

Here you go.

It's called the Herzig.

I think it would significantly improve your quality of life.

OK then, put it inside me.

There's too much blood. Oedematous. Pericardial adhesions.

There's no way we can attach the full Herzig replacement.

I'm so sorry, Stephen.

Let's move quickly, please.

Mo, female, 33, chest trauma. Get her stable, prep for theatre.

-How long with no output?

-20, 25 minutes?

Right, got it.

Yeah, just like last year, I'll fly over after New Year's.

And you will get two Christmases for the price of one.

You cool with that? OK. I love you too. Bye.

Is that a whiff of yuletide romance in the air?

-That was my son.

-Oh, I was hoping for some gossip.

-What's Sacha doing up here?

-Of course, you've been on leave.

-Mr Spence, have you met our new Clinical Skills Tutor.

-Sorry?

-She means me.

-Really?

-You sound surprised.

No, no. It's just unexpected.

No handshake?

All right.

Oh! Come on, Sacha, take it easy! I use these mitts!

Sorry. Don't know my own strength sometimes...

Oh, excuse me.

Word of advice. Do your texting in your own time, OK?

Patients can't stand it.

Right, well, I've got a conference to get to.

-Ah, what's it about?

-Oh, just a bunch of drug reps

and their inimitable combination of bad breath and baloney.

Enjoy that.

You too.

Tom?

-So, you fell off a train?

-Well, I suffer from sciatica.

I felt a twinge as I was alighting

and I reached for my back instead of the handrail.

Ouch!

Well, we are defined by our choices.

Careful.

-Get him next time, babe.

-Have to be quicker than that.

-Listen to Fast Eddie!

-Thanks.

-Is he winding you up?

-No.

If there's one thing that makes my foot itch,

it's quacks messing with my team. Good morning.

This is Esther Leach, 40, dislocated shoulder,

-abrasions to face, back, legs.

-What happened?

-Fell off a train.

-What d'you do that for?

I'm sorry, could I possibly get some more pain relief?

-I'll sort it. You're due a break, aren't you?

-Ah, cheers.

Morning! Never had you down as a rescue remedy girl.

-I'm not.

-Whatever.

Late, late, late.

Whoa, what for?

Sacha Levy wants me up on Keller.

Is there a ward in this place you haven't been sent to?

Think they're trying to tell me something.

-What is all this stuff, anyway?

-Paperwork for Griffin.

Had any more hassle from Finn's dad?

Don't get me started!

Oh, are you still on for beers tonight?

I don't know. Too many questions. I'll see you later.

Right then.

That's it, off you pop.

-Sorry?

-Nothing.

No, go on.

-I thought you were my mate.

-Who says I'm not?

So why not back me up, then?

Look, this is between you and Edward.

So you think I'm a liar?

Well, the only thing I know for sure

is you jumped into bed with the bloke. The rest of it...

The drugs you gave him for the hepatitis have been working fine,

but then a few days ago he started to go downhill.

-You should have come in.

-He's always having little dips.

-Even so.

-You know what he's like.

-Yeah, nothing but trouble.

-What?

-Won't be told.

-That'd just be boring.

-His mother was exactly the same, God rest her soul.

-Will you get off me?

-Michael's only trying to help...

-No, it's all right.

-Just leave me alone!

Never seen him like this before.

Well, the confusion's part of the liver problem.

-What's my excuse?

-Dad?

-I'm here, son.

-What's up with me?

-We don't know yet.

Come on, don't I always sort it out?

There you go, no worries. Michael's on the case.

Professor Hope about?

-Office.

-She speaks.

MESSAGE ALERT

(No.)

No!

-Ah, Elliot. Pick a card.

-What?

-Sorry?

-Any card.

-What?

-Humour me.

-Fine.

-Put it back.

-How is our latest Herzig patient?

-No real change, I'm afraid.

Shuffle 'em.

I did say I would keep you informed of any developments.

Given the circumstances, it's difficult to say

when we'll see signs of progress.

I'm afraid it's been a very expensive failure, this procedure...

What's thousands of pounds between friends? You can stop that now.

Though, obviously I don't like to think

in terms of putting a price on a life.

That's what they make us do every time we walk through these doors.

They?

-The Man. The faceless bean counter lurking in the shadows.

-Oh.

-Excellent.

-What?

-My animal man has got back to me.

-Animal man?

I'm exploring the possibility of a petting zoo in the peace garden.

-Right.

-What could be more therapeutic than that?

I don't know.

Is there anything else I should know, Elliot?

-Not at the moment.

-Is that your card?

-Yes.

Love a bit of magic. Great for these. Great for this.

So, how long have you known the Ross'?

-About four or five years, maybe.

-Yeah?

Yeah, Tom developed familial autoimmune hepatitis

from when he was a teen, lost his mother to it when he was a kid.

-It's a rough ride.

-Yeah, well. He's a tough cookie.

-Yeah, well, he's going to need to be.

-So, new job, huh?

Yep, one sec.

It's the wrong way round.

-Hi.

-Dr Wilde.

-Sorry I'm late.

-Welcome.

-Childcare nightmare.

-Ah, that old chestnut.

Late for what, exactly?

-Gemma's going to be shadowing you.

-Since when?

Since I decided that she needed some more GS action.

Come on! Like I don't have enough on my plate already.

It's a done deal, I'm afraid.

OK, I am just saying it would have been nice

-to have been kept in the loop.

-Yeah, well, you weren't here.

All right, may as well learn from the master...

Yep, best knife man in the business...

Come on.

Hey, Tom, how are you feeling?

-He's a lot calmer since he took the drugs.

-Much better.

Any going spare?

Do I get introduced?

-I'm Dr Wilde.

-I bet you are.

-Down, boy.

-This is Tom.

-Hi.

-And he's trouble with a capital T.

-Any news on his tests?

Yes, we have the results.

-It's not good news.

-Well, it never is with you.

Will you shut up and listen?

Your symptoms have been brought on by toxins

being released into the bloodstream during liver failure.

-You what?

-I am sorry.

-How bad is it?

-Your liver function's at 10%.

-So I need a transplant.

-Yes.

Well, we knew this might happen one day.

Oh, so that's all right, then?

-You're not going to start blubbing, are you?

-Leave your dad alone.

-You know I'm on the donor list.

-Er, no, I didn't.

I put my name down a few months back. OK.

But the paperwork hasn't come through yet, but...

-I can chase that up for you.

-Thanks.

And I will put in a call to the transplant database.

-Liver failure at his age.

-You should be delighted.

-Sorry?

-You just wandered, wide-eyed, into a major league case.

-What are you doing?

-Nothing.

-So what's with the hermit routine?

-I don't know what you mean.

Oh, come off it!

It's this damned Stephen Parker case.

Well, skulking in your Batcave isn't going to help.

I should have listened to you.

That'd be a first.

Look at all the damage I've done, trying to impress the new CEO.

That's not why you operated.

I was intimidated.

Flattered.

I went against my instincts.

-Not from where I was standing.

-And that is unforgiveable.

Oh!

-Are you all right?

-Think I'm going to be sick.

-I'll get you a bin...

-Oh, no, no.

-I'd rather do it in the privacy of the ladies, thank you.

-Right.

It's just I'm due in theatre in a minute.

This chest trauma, you know, with a haematoma the size of...

a big thing.

-Possible anoxic brain injury.

-Really?

-Hmmm.

I don't suppose you could cover for me?

-I'm not sure.

-Please?

So how close to the top of the list is he?

-How long does that take to process?

-The man wants to save his son.

-And there's no way to fast-track him?

-OK, thank you.

-Thank you. Bye.

-Any joy?

-BOTH: No.

-So what do we do now?

Ring around other hospitals.

How d'you mean?

If we can find a suitable donor

and persuade them Tom's a deserving case, then...

Cut out the middleman, give the liver straight to us.

-Want me to make the calls?

-Yeah.

-Yes.

-Ouch!

-Sorry.

-I'm in enough discomfort already.

-Painkillers haven't kicked in yet?

-No.

Right, well, if at first you don't succeed...

You're giving off stratospheric levels of stressation.

-And how would you know?

-I'm a counsellor.

-Yeah?

-I specialise in self-esteem crisis management.

Where do I sign?

Ever tried yogic inhalation for your anxiety?

-What anxiety?

-It's very simple.

Do you need a hand?

-Nah, I'm OK.

-Listen, you adopt the lotus position.

OK? Aye-aye.

Ah, then you take a nice, deep breath in.

What is this, Fifty Shades Of Puce?

And then concentrate on finding your inner core.

I haven't found mine since the '90s.

OK, I'm sorry but I'm trying to advise your colleague

on rebuilding her confidence structures.

-You lost me at "I'm".

-My confidence is fine.

That's what I thought.

You find these techniques to be a joke?

No, I just think you might get the same effect

with a cup of tea and a custard cream.

-Shoulder's still giving her gyp.

-It's no better at all?

-Worse, if anything.

-Should I up the dosage?

We'll have to put her on a PCA machine if it's having no effect.

Right.

OK, done.

SHE BREATHES IN AND SIGHS

Come on, it's time for our feng shui class.

Jac Naylor wasn't wrong about the size of this haematoma. Suction.

Any thoughts on how we could proceed with Stephen Parker?

I'm still weighing it up.

We could wean him off the sedation. Gauge his response?

Can we focus, please?

Had the new CEO in earlier.

-What did he want?

-Chapter and verse on the Herzig.

Really?

It was like a cross between the Spanish Inquisition

and the Paul Daniels Magic Show... Stapler.

Try a card trick on you, did he?

You've seen him in action?

No... It was the Paul Daniels reference.

I wonder if there's a Debbie McGee lurking in the background.

You're not impressed then?

Not by someone I hardly know having the power

to pull the plug on a decade of blood, sweat and tears.

Nicely done.

Thank you.

Pointless, if there's an anoxic brain injury.

-When will we know?

-When she does or doesn't wake up...

2-0 vicryl, please. She's all yours.

I don't get it.

Yeah, I know it sounds crazy,

but his chronic liver condition actually works against him.

Why?

There are patients out there with a better chance of survival.

Michael!

All right, you're going to be OK, Tom. Let's get him intubated.

OK. Let's go. That's it.

Hi, Zos.

-You.

-What you writing?

-Do you want a drag?

-No, thanks.

Grape flavour. Dead authentic.

Can't keep away from each other, can you?

What I wouldn't give for the taste of real smoke.

Empire builders.

He's started on about that flaming petting zoo again, you know.

Stupid idea.

-Don't suppose you've got a fag on you, have you?

-I gave up.

Good for you. Your mum would have been pleased.

That went well.

Are you two religious?

Well, I'm Jewish...

What d'you believe in, Michael?

Do you mind if we say a quick prayer?

Yeah. What the hell, all the dads together...

Our father, who art in heaven,

hallowed be thy name...

PHONE RINGS

Gemma Wilde.

All right, I'll let them know. Thank you.

-We've got one.

-What?

-A donor.

-Eh?

-Seriously?

-I thought he was way down the list?

St James' just called. RTA. Perfect match. It's all ours.

-Yes!

-Right, let's get him prepped.

Cheers, big fella.

-Ah! I owe you the exotic cocktail of your choice.

-Do you?

My chest trauma patient's doing a good impression of Lazarus.

No sign of brain injury?

Nope, she'll be on the Sudoku by the morning.

Seem to have made a remarkable recovery yourself.

-Oh, yeah, that passed.

-How convenient.

Well, it was for your own good. Nice to see you back in the saddle.

I appreciate the nausea masterclass, but my problem remains the same.

-Does it?

-A comatose young boy, a CEO after my blood.

If you keep acting like Howard Hughes, how's that going to help?

-I don't know.

-Keep this up, you'll lose everything you've worked for.

Zosia?

Professor Hope?

I think your instinct's right, we have to be proactive.

You want to reduce his use of the ventilator?

-For a few minutes at a time, then lengthen the gaps.

-Right.

We'll assess him for extubation after that.

-OK, I'll get started.

-Good.

I think our little success in theatre deserves a spot of lunch.

Coffee bar, an hour?

-Great.

-Good. Good.

Hi, I'm Dr Wilde. They're waiting for you upstairs. OK.

SHE EXHALES

-Oops.

-Haven't you heard of knocking?

I didn't mean to...

HE LAUGHS

-What're you laughing at?

-Nothing.

-Everything all right in here?

-Yeah, yeah, yeah. Absolutely.

Fan-daby-dozy.

All right, let's get this baby prepped for its new owner.

You got the paperwork?

What the...?

Oh, no!

-Hey, have you prepped the liver yet?

-No.

-Great, Mr Levy said I could observe.

-Did he now?

-Is that OK with you?

-We've got to give it back.

-Why?

-It's the wrong blood type!

-No. I double-checked everything.

-Read it and weep.

-I don't understand.

-Me neither.

-He was Type AB.

-He's Type A!

Just keep your mouth shut till I get back on the ward.

-Can I have a word?

-In public?

-Yeah.

-Fire away.

Have you read anything about Professor Hope's Herzig project

-other than the financial breakdown?

-I have, as a matter of fact.

-I think you should be backing him to the hilt.

-Do you?

-Not looking to shut it down.

-I see.

Professor Hope has a brilliant mind...

Yes, I'm well aware of that.

-One that this hospital cannot afford to lose.

-Finished?

HE SPEAKS POLISH

Don't you dare talk to me in Polish.

-Hi, shall we get a table? I'm starving.

-Yeah.

Hope the next guy has more luck than we did.

Hasn't been a hold-up, has there?

-Mr Spence is...

-Waiting for the onions?

-What?

-Liver. Onions?

-Yeah, he's trying to sort it out.

-I'm sure it'll be fine.

Hope so.

You look after him in there for me.

-Did I see you talking to the new CEO earlier?

-Yeah.

-Trying his act out on you, was he?

-No.

-What were you talking about?

-Nothing much.

Did he mention the Herzig?

-No, I don't think so.

-Or Stephen Parker?

-That's where our focus should be.

-Seems a bit of a coincidence.

-On Stephen's case.

-First he quizzes me, then he comes looking for you.

Rather than obsessing about number crunchers.

When someone comes in at the top, they always like to make changes.

It "sends a message out", apparently.

My concern is that I may have presented my own head to him

on a silver platter.

PHONE BEEPS

Damn.

It's funny, isn't it?

One minute you're trundling along, doing your job,

wife and kids at home, next minute, bang.

All change.

Er, Sam, can you put Mrs Latchford back into bed for me, please?

Thank you.

-Hey, why aren't you in theatre?

-Mr Spence, I...

-Do you have any idea how difficult things have been for that kid?

-No.

-How hard he's had to fight?

-I know.

-What's going on?

Lost his mom when he was a little boy.

He's been in and out of hospital since he was a teen.

-I'll tell Mr Ross myself...

-No. I think you've done enough.

Tell him what?

Ask my shadow.

-Trevor.

-I believe there's a bit of a hitch?

-Yeah, why don't you take a seat?

-Why do I need to sit down?

Why do I need to take a seat? He's gone, hasn't he?

-Has he gone?

-No, no.

-THEN WHAT?

I just don't get it.

Oh, dear. If it wasn't for my controlled-inhalation technique,

-it'd be a lot worse.

-Well, there's not much else I can do.

Yes, there is, just up the pain relief, you useless...

-Everything OK, ladies?

-Yes.

-No!

-What's wrong?

-This nurse, who I might add,

I've been helping with her own problems all day,

-has completely messed up my pain regime!

-I have not.

Then why am I in agony?

-Hey, you can hear you lot in the next hospital!

-Sorry.

-What's the problem?

-PCA isn't doing its job.

She's on the right levels. It's there in black and white.

-Right, this machine's bust.

-Yeah, I knew it.

It's actually been giving her a double dose of morphine

-for the last couple of hours.

-What?

-No, no, that can't be right.

-Did no-one check it?

Yes, me.

-Ah.

-Yes, well, she's a nurse, not a techie.

-It should've been checked before it hit the ward.

-Whatever you say.

-So, you agree it's not my fault?

-Who cares whose fault it is?

-Hear, hear.

-Dr Tressler'll give you the once-over,

but we'll have to take you off the machine for now.

-What?

-Unless you fancy an overdose?

Thank you.

-I'm so sorry...

-Stop apologising.

Sorry.

What I want to know is why a woman, who's had more drugs

than Judy Garland, is lying there still in agony.

-So what's our next move?

-We go back to the transplant team,

and see where they're at with your application.

And if they're still uhmming and aahing?

-He is getting weaker.

-So we're running out of time?

I think you need to prepare yourself for the worst.

-I'm sorry I lost my temper.

-Forget it.

I know you've pulled your tripes out for Tom over the years.

Just doing my job.

And the rest.

Thank you. Imogen.

What's happened to my brother, Mr Hope?

There were complications.

-Complications?

-In theatre.

When I spoke to Stephen yesterday, he was buzzing,

going on about this gadget you were putting in him.

-The Herzig.

-I should have been here.

-Sorry?

-I was in London sitting an exam.

-Well, you're here now.

He said this thing was your own invention?

Come to my office.

-I was expecting to find him healthy.

-I understand that...

-He trusted you.

-I know.

-Was he pushed into this?

-Not at all.

-He's suggestible, Stephen. And he idolised you!

He'd put his hand in the fire if you told him to!

Stephen was aware of exactly what the procedure entailed.

-Are you giving this gadget the hard sell?

-Certainly not.

-A way of saving money?

-It costs more than...

-Everything's about cutbacks.

-I promise you.

You promised Stephen, look where that got him.

-It was completely unforeseeable...

-Is he going to wake up?

Professor Hope ordered an early EEG which came back clear.

-We're already working on the rehabilitation plan.

-Dr March.

We've changed the dosage of dopamine and furosemide,

-which should help the swelling and improve the condition of his heart.

-So, he could be all right?

Hopefully his condition will improve.

Though he'll still be on the list for a heart transplant.

He still needs a heart transplant? After everything he's been through?

-Yes, but...

-She says one thing, you say another.

Stephen is Professor Hope's number one priority.

-You don't know what you're talking about.

-Please...

-You should be struck off.

-That's just ridiculous!

-Zosia.

-You have no idea what you've done to us.

Afternoon.

Problem?

You could say that.

Let me guess. Stephen Parker?

You're no doubt delighted to see another nail

-hammered into my coffin.

-Am I?

When the inevitable complaint lands on your desk, I'd be grateful

if you disregard any reference to Dr March.

Her performance has been exemplary throughout.

I'm afraid, should the issue arise, that won't be possible.

Why not?

Protocol. Sorry.

-Mr Self.

-Elliot.

Feel free to scrutinise my every move

but leave my junior doctors out of it.

I really have no interest in...

Why should she have a stain on her record because of my actions?

-Elliot!

-I couldn't agree more.

-Well then.

-I can't intervene if...

Why?

-Because...

-This could be a perfect opportunity to build

a case against my project.

I thought we were talking about protecting your F1.

We are. So why won't you?

My hands are tied.

Why? Why?

Answer me.

Because he's my father.

So we're all clear on that, are we?

Good.

Elliot.

As soon as we get you through this...

..me and you are going out for the mother of all steaks.

16-ounce rib-eye,

medium rare, proper chips.

Count me in.

Any news?

Not yet.

I just want to swap places with him.

Yeah, I understand.

You should be carving my liver up right now.

-I know.

-It's my body. Why should I have to wait for permission?

Trevor, I don't make the rules.

We're talking about my son's life here.

Look, I know it's hard to fathom but...

I've spoken to the database team.

-And?

-They're still not in a position to authorise.

For crying out loud!

-They're moving as fast as they can.

-Well, it's not fast enough.

All right, have they given you any idea how long?

No. No, they didn't.

My boy is dying in front of my eyes.

I want that operation.

-Look, we can't without...

-Yes, you can.

You've got to.

-Come on, Trevor.

-I'm really sorry, Michael...

-Mr Ross!

-..but if you don't agree to this...

You are not helping your son.

-..I don't know what I'll do.

-I'm calling security.

-Stay where you are.

-He's not going to hurt me.

-Please!

-Let him go.

-You let me save my son.

Look, Trevor, I can't do anything for you with a scalpel against my neck.

It's my right as a father.

What would you do?

Answer the question.

We would all do everything we could to help our kids.

Look at that face. That lad is all I've got.

Help me.

As a dad and a doctor,

I'm begging you.

What do you think, Mr Levy?

-You're not serious?

-You heard what he said. What would you do?

Please.

This is crazy.

Is that a yes?

-No, no, it's a...

-Mr Spence?

It's a maybe.

-I'll sign anything you want.

-All right, come on.

You know I wouldn't have done anything with that knife.

Yeah, yeah, of course. Are you all right?

Let's get on with it.

-No, I'm checking you out first before we go anywhere near theatre.

-Fine.

Shouldn't you be running the hospital or something?

I hope you haven't mistaken me for some sour-faced old boot with a clipboard!

And listen, don't be worrying about Eddie Rocket.

-Easy for you to say.

-He can't touch you.

It's a bit late for that.

Am I missing a piece of the jigsaw here?

Cos I don't like fighting blind.

I slept with him.

I get it now.

-Get what?

-You.

-Is that right?

-You're an escapist.

-Sorry?

-Or at least part of you is.

-You've lost me.

-The part you can't stop escaping from your kecks.

-What?

-This isn't Charles Dickens.

You don't get to have your wicked way with the scullery maid

and then bugger off back to the big house.

-Oh, listen, I've heard enough of this.

-Good, cos I've finished.

Who do you think you are?

You mess with my nurses, you mess with me. Capisce?

If you're after the heir to the throne, she's in there.

Dr March.

Have you been spying on me?

No.

Then why didn't you tell me?

I didn't think it was anyone else's business.

So, you just stood there while I went on and on about your own father.

I didn't know what to say.

D'you realise how compromised I feel?

-Well, that wasn't my intention.

-Never mind how foolish.

Anything but foolish.

-How can I ever trust you again?

-Professor Hope, people are looking.

-I thought I'd found someone who shared my vision...

-You have.

And what are you writing in that book?

-Nothing.

-Some sort of dossier, is it?

-No.

-Let me see it.

Elliot.

-Give it to me.

-It's private.

I want to read what you've been saying.

-Please.

-Give it to me!

Thank you.

How long have you had angina?

-I don't.

-Chest pain, shortness of breath. Sound familiar?

I thought that was just anxiety.

Well, the scan shows your arteries are narrowing.

I'm all right.

When did this kick off?

Few months ago.

You tell the donor team about it?

I thought it might put them off if...

Why didn't you come and talk to me about it?

-You've done enough for us.

-I could've fixed you up.

-Well, this doesn't affect this now, does it?

-Of course it does!

-Why?

-You have a heart condition.

-Well, how bad is it?

-Down the line, you're going to need a stent.

I don't give a monkey's if I live or die.

-Well, I do.

-Great, so get me through it then.

I don't know.

-We agreed.

-That was before.

It's my pejorative.

-Prerogative.

-You what?

Forget it.

You can't let me down now, Michael.

I can't ignore the facts.

There's only one fact that matters here.

That's saving Tom's life.

-I've been reading up on you.

-Sorry?

It's amazing what you can find on the internet these days.

I don't know what you're...

All this stuff doctors used to keep to themselves.

-Imogen, please.

-I've read your latest mortality rates.

-Oh.

-5%.

-I know.

So you're putting this machine into people and they're dying?

Those results aren't directly related to...

That's double national average.

It wasn't the device...

I always thought you were a really lovely bloke.

And all this time you were just some sort of Doctor Frankenstein.

Your brother's welfare was my only concern.

And now it's my only concern.

Because I'm the one who'll come in every day to talk to him

and read him books

and I'm the one who'll spend the rest of our lives caring for him.

We're still hopeful of bringing him out of...

I know a lot about the law, Professor Hope.

Most of it's pointless now.

And this has got liability written all over it.

I know you're not happy about the situation.

-Understatement of the century.

-It's the right thing to do.

No, it is the Michael thing to do.

If you didn't have the new job to worry about...

-I'm supposed to not care about my career now?

-No!

Anyway, this isn't about me, it is about ethics.

Please, will you help me out here?

Oh, so you want me in on this now, do you?

You are the best man for the job.

-I didn't know you valued me so highly.

-Will you do it?

-Why should I?

-To save a life.

-Or lose two.

-Not with the pair of us on the case.

What if it goes wrong?

Then you were only there as back-up. It was my decision.

-So it's your funeral.

-100%.

OK.

-Why here?

-First you don't say a blind word to me...

-Of all the hospitals!

-..now I can't get rid of you.

-Answer me.

-Zosia, I'm late for yet another meeting.

Professor Hope thinks I'm some sort of spy.

Professor Hope is more paranoid than J Edgar Hoover.

-You could have got a job anywhere.

-No, you're wrong.

-You deliberately followed me here.

-I was out of work for eight months.

I had to get back on track and this was a chance to.

I just wanted to be left alone. Couldn't you not at least have

-done that for me?

-I did not take this post because you were here.

-That's why you should have turned it down.

-Oh, give me a pen,

-I'll resign now!

-Just keep away from me.

Fine, Zosia. A ten-yard exclusion zone? Is that enough for you?

Liver looks healthy.

What about his heart?

Yeah, that's fine.

You never mentioned the angina.

-No...

-What did you think? I wouldn't bother checking the notes?

-He'd made his mind up.

-You really get off on this, don't you?

-It didn't seem a serious enough problem.

-Sticking your mitts

-into other people's business.

-Kind of comes with the territory.

Right. Let's do a cholangiogram, please.

-KNOCK AT DOOR

-Yeah?

I have serious doubts about my reasons

for operating on Stephen Parker.

-Right.

-I don't know if it was vanity, because of all this talk

of trialling the Herzig in America,

but I had a vulnerable young man in my care

and I'm not sure I acted in his best interests.

Doubt is good. Certainty is for despots and dictators.

And you should also be aware

that my mortality figures have risen sharply.

-OK.

-Something I omitted to tell you earlier.

Well, I appreciate your candour now.

And if his sister should decide to sue,

I think she'd have quite a persuasive case.

Well, let's see what happens, shall we?

And in the meantime, I'll look at the facts.

Did you know that Zosia worked here before you took the job?

What kind of father wouldn't?

It's OK, carry on.

No, he's all yours.

Just need to check his obs.

You wouldn't think he was only 21 years old, would you?

-This kind of condition takes its toll.

-Tell me about it.

What exams were you doing?

Law.

-Re-sits.

-How did they go?

-OK.

-That's good.

I suppose. Not that it matters.

Why not?

He was in hospital for weeks when I first sat them.

Must be difficult trying to revise.

Or maybe it's just an easy excuse for failure.

I'm sure that's not the case.

Who knows?

Sounds like they went better this time.

-Even if I pass, what then?

-You just have to wait and see.

I can't actually believe I thought I could have a life for myself.

I'm sure you can.

My mum was a solicitor and, erm...

..I used to think she looked so cool going to work in her two-piece.

-You could still work.

-What if he dies?

-I don't think...

-Some sister I am.

-You are allowed to...

-All the neighbours think I'm a saint.

Must be tough, doing this on your own.

Tough on your dreams, yeah.

What?

He packed a pair of my pyjamas.

I'm so sorry, Stephen.

Can you leave, please?

Guard that graft with your life.

Right, let's get Tom under, please. Thank you.

OK, let's close him up. Get ready for phase two.

Tell me this is a wind-up.

-What on earth?

-I don't know.

You are officially a total disaster area.

The reason this has happened is

because I've spent all day thinking about Finn and his dad

and what the hell I'm going to do with my life instead of my patients.

OK, so now you need to get back in there

and show them who you really are.

-And who's that?

-A chippy single mum,

desperately clinging to the remnants of her career.

-Ever considered joining the Samaritans?

-Look, seriously.

You fall off a bike, you get back on it, right?

And other cliches.

-They're only cliches cos they're true.

-And there's another one.

Go.

So how are you feeling?

Well, I can't have surgery until tomorrow

because of the damn machine.

-I'm afraid that can't be helped.

-And the pain?

Yeah, how is the sciatica?

I'm talking about my shoulder.

-I thought you said you had a bad back.

-Years of it.

I can't find any record of any treatment.

-I've just learned to live with it.

-And you've never been to see

-your GP?

-I'm so time poor.

-Really?

-I'm a businesswoman.

I thought you said you were a counsellor?

The counselling is my business.

How have you coped?

How does anyone cope?

-Pills?

-Yes.

-How many?

I don't know.

You must have some idea.

-A day? A week?

-A day.

-What is this?

-Eight, ten?

I don't appreciate this line of questioning.

-More even?

-Or your tone.

Shall I go get the doctor then?

Wait!

Cos I don't think that they will operate if...

All right!

Dozens, maybe...

20, 30.

No wonder the PCA machine didn't work.

-Have you ever had sciatica?

-No.

Because I have to sit all day, every day, listening to those people

-drone on.

-Drone on?

Meanwhile, there's a red-hot poker stabbing me in the back.

You're going to kill yourself.

You think I don't know that?

I'm going to get you some help, Esther.

I can wean myself off them.

I'm sorry.

I can't be registered as...

What?

Think about my work.

I wouldn't be doing my job properly if I kept my mouth shut.

You will still come and see me, won't you?

-I don't know.

-Oh!

I can work wonders for your self-esteem.

Hi. Erm...

..I just came to give you back your book.

Thanks.

Did you read it?

I'm not some font of all wisdom, you know.

I'll take that as a yes.

You seem to have written down everything I've said

since we first met.

Just the things I can learn from.

So much for my dossier theory.

I'll stop if it bothers you.

No, no, I just wondered why, that's all.

My mum had...

..a beautiful way with words.

If I ever came to her with a problem she'd know exactly how to

make it feel smaller.

And you wrote all those things down?

No, I didn't.

And then she died.

I'm sorry.

And bits of her are starting to fade away...

..words,

looks...

..smiles.

Maybe you could write it all down now.

I try but it doesn't come out right.

It sounds like me, not her.

And what about your father?

I really don't want to talk about that.

Things are so bad you don't even have the same name?

I prefer my mother's.

Why keep him a secret?

I just want to get on with my work.

-You must have known it would get out...

-Is that too much to ask?

No. No. Of course not.

Shall we?

-Washed your hands with Gemma Wilde, have you?

-After a mistake like that?

-Yeah, fair enough.

-Damn right it is.

Given the towering professional standards you've set over the years.

-Excuse me?

-What with the plastics scandal.

All right, what's that got to do with her total incompetence?

Not to mention your spotless personal life.

Well, didn't realise you were keeping a file on me.

Now you do.

Clamp.

Anything I can get you, Dr March?

Or is there a more official title you go by?

How about Daddy's Girl?

Professor Hope! He's awake.

Let's extubate him.

HE GAGS

OK, there we go.

OK. Right.

There we go, OK.

OK, all done.

I'm so sorry, Stephen. All I could think of was myself.

I don't know what I'd do without you.

Welcome back.

Let's get this useless piece of offal out of here.

-What are you doing here?

-I wanted to see how the transplant was going.

Gemma, I think it's best if you go back to the ward.

OK.

RAPID BEEPING

I need the crash trolley!

Charged to 140, clear.

Charge again.

Congratulations.

What for?

We did it.

We?

Me and you.

This was your show.

-Couldn't have done it without you.

-No?

-We make a great team.

-Do we?

-And I am delighted you got the new job.

-Really.

-Yeah, could be the start of something beautiful.

-Yeah?

The Two Musketeers.

All for one and one for all.

Ow!

Ow, my hand.

What is it with your fist and my face?

-So we're a team, are we?

-That hurt.

-"Our time together was so special."

-What?

-"I will never forget you."

-You knew?

-Mills & Boon, eat your heart out.

-How long?

-You tried to run away with my wife.

-Ex-wife.

-That's not the point.

-I know it looks bad.

-You're supposed to be my friend.

-I am.

-I confided in you.

-Well, so did she.

The Two Musketeers? Have you no shame?

Why didn't you say something earlier?

I didn't know what to say. Or when, or how.

Look, I really didn't mean to.

So what was the plan?

Couldn't have your own family so you thought,

"Oh, I know what, I'll nick Sacha's?"

-That's harsh.

-When did it start? The truth.

After you two split up, I swear.

And of course your word is your bond.

If you read the letter you know she turned me down anyway.

Oh, well, that's all right, then, isn't it?

You could have broken my nose.

Good.

Yes, what do you want?

I managed to shock him within seconds of going into arrest.

Well, that's something.

Well done.

OK, let's get a scan, find out what the damage is.

What happened to your nose?

Esther, this is Clare, she's one of our addiction counsellors.

-Hello.

-I tried that course, it wasn't for me.

Esther's a confidence woman.

Rebuilding confidence structures, actually.

Right, I'll leave you two to chat.

Is she OK?

-Nothing a nice plate of cold turkey can't fix.

-Poor cow.

That was good nursing.

-It was staring me in the face.

-Yeah, well, I didn't suss it.

Maybe I should tell Edward that.

-You let me worry about Mr Ed.

-Yeah?

Yeah. He puts a foot wrong he'll be dealing with the Colettenator.

Don't let me come between a man and his pastrami on rye.

I'll have it later.

I see Stephen Parker's back from the brink.

-Yes.

-So no billion-dollar lawsuit in the offing?

Apparently not.

Been reading up on your recent case history.

Have you?

To get some perspective on your mortality rates.

-And?

-Quite simple, really.

-Is it?

-Down to a lack of cowardice.

What?

Look, anyone can take the easy route and boost their figures.

I mean, it's like a private school coming top of the league tables.

Big wow.

It takes a lot more to stick your head above the parapet

and perform the high-risk ops.

You're going to lose the odd patient,

but only so that us mere mortals can save thousands more.

So you're not going to close me down.

Never even entered my head.

-Thank you.

-Carry on, Doctor.

Hey.

So they brought your boy back on to the ward.

How's he doing?

Good.

So it worked.

It's early days but I'm optimistic.

Brilliant.

So now we gotta talk about you.

I believe I had a heart attack?

Mmm-hm. It was a big one.

Have I put you in the doghouse?

Don't worry about that.

So what's the score?

Did a lot of damage that's impossible to fix.

And the bad news(?)

We'll do what we can to manage it

but there's a very strong chance you'll have another one soon.

Any idea when?

Couldn't say.

Just want to make sure I've got a clean pair of undies on first.

I can't guarantee you're going to survive the next one.

Come here.

Do you know what, Mike? I don't care.

Because we did it, we saved my son.

And that's good enough for me.

-How's he doing?

-Which one?

Both.

Well, son's got a great chance,

Dad might just see out one last Christmas.

I'm sorry.

So you keep saying.

Now I just think maybe in the excitement of it all

I just really wanted to believe we'd pulled it off.

Or maybe your mind was elsewhere.

Or all of the above.

-Take it from the expert, you gotta sort yourself out.

-I know.

I mean, imagine if it was your kid needed a transplant.

Don't say that.

Mr Spence.

Good conference?

I believe you've had quite a day.

News travels fast.

Mr Self would like a word.

KNOCK ON DOOR

Yeah. Ah, you just caught me.

All right, let's get this over with.

Boxercise?

Something like that.

Ah.

So, Serena tells me you've rewritten our hospital's transplant policy.

I saved a boy's life, if that's what you're talking about.

And left his father at death's door from what I hear.

He chose to take the risk. And it's a decision he stands by.

And what about the son, did he consent?

He was busy dying of liver failure at the time.

-Answer for everything.

-What would you have done?

-I certainly wouldn't have...

-Let me guess.

Weighed up the effects on your precious career and left the poor guy to rot.

-Maybe we should give you a ward to yourself and leave you to run riot.

-Now we're talking.

-The make-it-up-as-you-go-along unit.

-Kids, kids, have we finished?

Good. Because it all seems pretty straightforward to me.

Serena, we're going to get dog's abuse from the transplant crew,

so I'd be grateful if you'd firefight that for me, please.

Thanks.

Michael.

You crazy maverick, you do not get to do this in my hospital.

Now I'm not risk averse but I am A-hole averse.

I now have to enter into the realms of tedium and launch an inquiry.

So you, my friend, given your colourful history,

are on a three-month suspension.

No, I'm not.

How's that?

-I was the victim of a serious assault by a patient.

-What?

And I'm so traumatised that I'm taking compassionate leave.

-You're taking the p...

-Fine.

So long as you're not on the premises wielding a scalpel,

I'm happy.

What I did today was the right thing.

It's not a question of right or wrong.

This your philosophy too?

Enjoy your break.

And remember, if and when you return, you're on your last chance.

Hey, what're you up to?

I'm going.

Where?

I'm leaving, OK?

You're kidding.

I'm bad for this place, and it is very bad for me.

-Look, come on. Today...

-It's not just today.

I'm out before Finn gets up, I'm back after he's in bed.

-We're strangers.

-Hardly.

Now his dad's sniffing round. How long before he gets his foot

in the door and starts asking for shared custody?

You cannot give up your career because...

Yes, I can.

And how do you plan to eat in this brave new world.

Maybe I'll become a GP.

What, sat behind a desk handing out amoxicillin all day?

Having tea with my son every night.

-You're mad.

-No.

I just want to be a proper mum.

I'll see you.

I am going home, I'm going to book my ticket and I will see you tomorrow.

I know, it's going to be the best Christmas ever.

Charlie, I love you.

OK, guys, just remember, eyes and ears. OK, good.

See you in AAU.

Dispensing wisdom, huh?

A platitude for every occasion, me.

Well, you'll be glad to know I'm outta here for a couple of months.

-Oh.

-Yeah, going to the States, seeing the kids.

Well, that'll make a change for them, having their dad around.

Look, I'm sorry for everything, I got carried away.

Is that your excuse?

I'm looking for something and for a minute I thought Chrissie was it.

I just feel so...disappointed.

I do that to people.

You've got to stop thinking about yourself so much.

I'm trying.

Otherwise those kids'll grow up to hate you.

I'll see ya.

OK, let's go to AAU.

-Mum.

-Hello.

Come on you, let's go home.

-Hey. You ready?

-Yeah.

Come on.

How goes the battle?

Not bad, you?

Up and down.

Did you see your zoo man?

Yeah. I kid you not, his name is Noah.

I'm going to have you sectioned one of these days.

Do you fancy a curry?

Now you're talking...

SIREN WAILS