Blue Christmas Holby City

All you're good for is moaning and whining...

Are we going to go for it? Because I...I really need to know.

Look...it's not simple, it's comp...

You know what, forget about it.

If the prize for consultant's badge is sucking up to some flash idiot

who's just bought their way on to the ward, then you can keep your damn job.

-He stole my grandfather's medals.

-I'm sorry.

Physical assault of a senior consultant in the work place.

That should be more than enough to suspend her. Agreed?

# I'll have a blue Christmas

# Without you

# I'll be so blue... #

SIREN WAILS

Thank you, goodbye.

Dr Copeland.

Mr...Featherstone. Pancreatic cancer.

Most recently treated at the Royal Huntley,

but he transferred himself.

Well, hang on. They've got an excellent oncology department.

Did you say Featherstone?

Yes. Er...Hugo.

Sounds dead posh.

He's some big cheese arthropod.

Oh, I forgot to say, your turkey hat arrived.

Oh, yes! Do you like the snowflakes?

Yeah, yeah, they're great.

Is that you, Levy?

Must be more than 30 years.

Never lost the baby fat then?

You two know each other?

Yes, yes. From school.

Everyone called him "Cheesy Levy" back then. Hideously pongy feet.

We used to throw his socks out the window.

Yeah, those were the days. Casual bullying on a daily basis.

No harm done. Look at you now!

Consultant General Surgeon in Holby City Hospital.

Senior Registrar.

Whoops...

Yeah, they keep asking me to reconsider. In fact, they're interviewing today...

Let's face it, you never were a born leader.

Put himself up for school prefect. Didn't get a single vote, poor chap.

Nice hat, by the way.

You've got to help me, please!

He's a transfer from the ED... RTC.

Rib fractures and possible bilateral pulmonary contusion.

Sounds like a regular trauma case to me. What's brought you up here?

They say I haven't got a heart, but that can't be right.

I'm madly in love!

The ED failed to find traceable heart sounds on his left-hand side.

Oh, so we have a man with a void instead of a beating heart.

-(Sounds a bit like you.)

-Thank you.

Bay One, please!

KNOCK ON DOOR

Come in.

Merry Christmas, Mr Hanssen.

I thought I made myself perfectly clear.

Yes, you did, but, er, surely everyone deserves a second chance?

-Especially this time of year?

-You are suspended, Nurse Reynolds.

You are not allowed on hospital premises unless it is to attend a pre-arranged hearing.

I know I didn't handle myself very well.

But, Ms Naylor...

You will have the opportunity to present any

extenuating circumstances at your hearing.

I'll be honest with you.

I really, really need this job.

But the matter's out of my hands, I'm afraid.

Mr Hanssen, please.

HR will be in touch in due course, now would you please leave?

IN SHRILL FALSETTO: # Hark! The herald angels sing

# Glory to the newborn king. #

You have a very...unusual tone, Dr Shreve.

Um, but I'm looking for voices that will blend!

Harmonise!

-What did I miss?

-You didn't get the memo?

-No.

Right, well, we are auditioning for the Carol-a-thon,

where each ward goes and takes a turn out by the tree

and the choir that raises the most money for charity wins.

Let's see how YOU sound, Dr Digby!

-I'm all right, I...

-Now come on! I need a soloist for the opening verse and you might just have

-that childlike innocence I'm looking for.

-Er, what about me?

Oh, far too rugged and world-weary.

Er, I go to pieces in front of an audience, you...

It's not La Scala Milan, Arthur!

You'll be fine, son.

Yes, thank you.

# Once in Royal David's... #

Started too high, sorry.

IN BARITONE: # Stood a lowly cattle shed... #

Oh, how I miss Dr Tressler's dulcet tones at this time of year.

We're still waiting on your original scans, but from what I've read,

it appears you've had exemplary treatment.

First class. Couldn't fault it.

So why did you choose to move?

Anonymity.

Worked at the Huntley my entire career.

Known as this big, ballsy character.

Tough. Uncompromising.

Juniors look up to me. Peers respect me.

So why here?

Why me?

It's been manageable so far, but this cancer's a bastard.

And I know it's going to get a hell of a lot worse before it gets better.

I don't need my colleagues seeing me go through that.

But they'd want to support you, surely?

It's not about them.

It's about me not having to witness their discomfort as I get weaker,

start losing my hair, trying to hide their "cancer face".

Just makes fighting it harder.

I see.

But I will win this battle, Levy. Whatever it takes.

And you're going to help me.

Right, so successful Carol-a-thon members need to be

out by the tree by 4.30.

I'm on an interview panel till then, so I need you all on top form.

Christmas is always chaotic and what with Mr Di Lucca being fully

occupied in theatre, I would like to get the dream team back together...

So, Morven, you'll be working with Dr Digby today.

Aww! Juliet finally gets her Romeo back.

You seem to enjoy working together

and have a natural rapport that's very, um...unusual.

Yeah, cos you fancy the pants off him.

-Fine by me.

-And me, yep.

-Excellent. Well, have fun!

What?

Oh, no! Not at Christmas! You've got to be kidding!

An open ward in my condition? What if it's Ebola?

Who's that?

It's Mr James. Proverbial pain in the ar...ahhh, Mr James!

-I can handle this.

-Yeah? OK, good luck.

Hello.

What's your initial diagnosis, Dr March? Is he truly heartless?

No. His is definitely in there.

I think the severity of the impact caused a massive pneumothorax,

forcing the heart to move to the right.

Hmmm, well, that's very unlikely.

Look at the seatbelt marks,

it's a result of increased abdominal pressure.

I'd bet my cat's life on a traumatic diaphragmatic rupture.

Phfft. That doesn't count! You don't even like your cat.

Anyway, you'd be more breathless than in pain.

Hmm, could be down to increased lung capacity, not tensioning yet.

Oh, let's see what the CT and X-ray say, shall we?

How long am I going to be stuck here, Doc?

Supposed to be proposing to my girlfriend on Christmas Eve. In Newcastle.

Oh, is that where you were heading?

Yeah. Only got ten miles out before Driving Home For Christmas

came on the radio.

So I settled back, big smile on my face,

thinking everything is so perfect, when BAM! Hit a wall.

Must've nodded off.

Yes, well, you won't be driving anywhere for quite some time.

But I've got it all planned out!

Window table on the quayside, champagne on ice,

1,000 Catherine wheels bursting to life at the stroke of midnight,

spelling, "Chloe I-Heart-U. Will you marry me?"

What do you reckon?

I think it's the most fabulously romantic thing I've ever heard.

Yes, or the most pointlessly extravagant.

She deserves it!

Chloe's clever, kind, beautiful.

Like, top model stunning. And look at me!

Well, it's not all about looks.

And you are...very well built.

Yeah, but most couples are on a pretty level playing field.

Like you two, if you were together. Mr and Mrs Perfect.

PAGER BEEPS

-Ahem.

-Yes, sorry, I'm needed in...ITU.

This is Mr James. He's a 42-year-old asthmatic.

He had a severe episode at home,

but he managed to call an ambulance before he passed out.

He was admitted to the ED and given a Salbutamol nebuliser,

but he's shown little signs of improvement, so they transferred him up here.

Typical NHS lassitude, no thinking outside the box.

-Sorry?

-I have all the symptoms of Ebola.

Chest pains, headache, cough, raised rash.

OK, that looks like eczema to me, which you suffer from historically.

"Looks like"? You can't be 100% certain.

I should be on lockdown till you know for sure.

Don't worry, Mr James.

Ebola symptoms are usually typified by hemorrhagic fevers,

nausea and vomiting and bleeding from the eyes and other orifices.

What if this is just the beginning?

Acute appendicitis with peritonitis on its way.

I could use an extra pair of hands.

If the "dream team" can bear to be parted, that is.

Um, just bear with us one second. Dr Shreve, can you...?

This man has a history for being very unreasonable.

Are you sure you're going to be able to cope if I...?

Look, I'm a professional doctor. I'm not a silly little schoolgirl.

Right, Mr James. Where were we?

Let me know when the patient's settled in recovery.

Peace offering. I just wanted to say I'm sorry.

Fran, go home. You're not even supposed to be here.

Guy, wait, please! Just give me five minutes!

Look, whatever you've got to say has nothing to do with me any more.

So if you'll excuse me...

Squawk!

Who's your friend?

He's coming home with me. Hello.

Wife? Or bit on the side?

Girlfriend, actually. But I have been married.

Twice.

Love 'em and leave 'em, Levy! Who'd have thought it.

So, what do you think? Am I a dead man walking?

Comparing these with your previous scans,

I would suggest we're now looking at Stage 2A.

But there is nothing apparent in the nearby large blood vessels

or lymph nodes.

However, I would still like to order a repeat CT, just in case.

-In case it's spread further.

-Precisely.

I'm fully aware I've had a bad roll of the cancer dice.

-Only 5% of people with my diagnosis live five years or more.

-Yes.

Yes, I know.

I'm so sorry.

Don't be. Because I'm going to be one of them.

I have four boys at home who think I'm invincible.

And I've no intention of letting them down.

Of course not.

Why shouldn't it be me? That statistic has to apply to someone.

-I understand that, but...

-But what?

Are you with me on this or not?

Yes. Yes. Of course I am.

We'll do everything we possibly can.

Now, is there anything you haven't told me that's not in these notes?

Any new, more recent symptoms?

I've been experiencing upper abdominal pain

and it's been getting more severe.

I need to know why.

This cancer isn't going to kill me, Levy.

I'll order that repeat CT.

OK, so there's been some slight improvement in your breathing

but because your attack was quite severe,

I'd like to order a chest X-ray, FBC and U & Es, please.

Yes, boss.

I've got stomach pains now... Feel bloated.

That's nothing to do with my asthma.

No, that'll be your old trouble again. Bit of trapped wind.

Turkey and sprouts will do that to a fella.

Thank you, Nurse Fletcher.

If only all the staff were as kind and attentive as you are.

That's very nice of you.

Right. Let's get this allergy test out of the way,

so we can get you home in good time for Christmas.

-Any exciting plans?

-Just the usual. Me and Mother.

Oh, so you're not married then?

Oh, never met the right girl.

Right, on your side then, please.

Apologies if this results in an expulsion of gas.

I'll do my best to keep it in.

Hm.

So, um, I'm just going to dot your back with a marker

to reference which allergy we're testing for, OK?

Ooh! Ah! Ha!

Sorry, I have got exceptionally sensitive skin.

Aahhh... Oooh...

Ahhhhh!

Oh...that...tickles...

Ooooh! Ha-ha-haaaa...

Everything all right?

Excuse me one moment, please.

Yeah, um, he started to sound a little bit pervy

and I want to make sure you're all right.

I'm perfectly capable of looking after myself, thank you.

OK.

Let's put it right at the top, shall we? Can you reach?

Ms Naylor? I would like to consult with you about a very unusual patient.

It's going to have to wait till I've taken Emma to creche.

Valentine, tell everybody I'll be back in ten minutes

for the Carol-a-thon rehearsal.

OK. You don't do Christmas. It's not your thing.

Yes, it's not for fun.

It's because I'm a competitive narcissist who wants to ensure

Darwin raises the most cash.

Right, let's take you to the sugar mountain. Say bye-bye!

Bye-bye!

The new scans show pretty much the same picture as before, really.

Um, but here, it's the...

Sorry there, er, is the reason for your upper abdominal pain.

As you can see, there is a bit of stranding around the tail

of the pancreas, suggesting pancreatitis.

That will obviously add to the complexity of the surgery.

-The level of risk is...

-You're still prepared to operate?

-It's clearly an option, yes...

-What's the alternative? Doing nothing?

-Well...

-Because that's not an option. Which you would know

if you'd actually listened to a word I've said.

It's my job to weigh up the relative risks.

-It's also your job to listen to your patient.

-Yes...

You haven't changed, Levy. Still dithering around.

Incapable of taking charge and being a man.

No wonder you never made consultant.

Mr Levy's very happy where he is.

Only because he knows he'd fail.

A consultant has to be decisive. Tough.

Not someone who needs a nurse to fight his battles for him.

The anaesthetic would put a strain on your already weakened heart and lungs.

It's clear from the overall picture that...

What?! You wouldn't operate because it might kill me?

The cancer will kill me if you don't!

Can you calm down, Mr Featherstone? You're upsetting my other patient.

I'll calm down when lover boy's made up his mind.

I think... Um...

There's no straightforward decision to be made...

If I'm to beat this, I need to take risks.

Otherwise I'm done for.

And I need a man with balls to go out on a limb and get the job done.

If that's not you, I'll find someone else.

Without trauma I'd assume dextrocardia.

But the mediastinum is pushed on the right side along with the heart, so...

Highly unusual that he'd be alert and conscious after such a significant injury.

Yes, which is why I'm suggesting the patient suffered

a diaphragmatic hernia on impact, and it's the intestines

pushing on the lungs that caused the displacement of the heart...

Well, there's only one way to find out.

And the winner is...

..Dr Zosia March!

Get back to med school, Valentine.

You owe me dinner. An expensive one.

Left pleural drainage should reverse the mediastinal shift in 24 hours.

Good call.

Get her off my ward.

-Jac... Please... I'm not here to cause trouble.

-That'll be a first.

I know I messed up, but Christmas is a really bad time for me.

Oh, dear! Here's the sob story.

Please, I just want to talk.

Have you been drinking?

I'm trying to apologise here. I just... I need you to understand...

Dr March. Escort this woman off the premises.

Why won't anyone listen?

I'll be all right in a minute. I'm sorry.

It's OK.

Listen, I know what it's like to feel lost.

This time last year...

..I was in a really dark place

and I didn't think I'd find a way out, but I did.

It's about taking back control.

That's what I'm trying to do, but no one'll give me a chance.

I'm listening.

Jac isn't!

-JAC:

-Dr March!

Let me talk to her.

You wait here, OK?

OK, there's nothing on this to cause alarm.

And the allergy test confirmed what we already knew.

SHE SIGHS

What am I missing? Come on, Morven.

"It is not in the stars to hold our destiny, but in ourselves!"

Don't look so worried. I feel much better.

Thanks to you.

But I need to understand why this happened. What was the trigger?

Make the correct diagnosis.

Because this could happen again and I don't want that.

You really do care, don't you? I felt it earlier.

As a doctor, yes, of course I do.

I'm solvent, mortgage free, and when Mother goes,

there'll be a significant inheritance!

OK... I-I'm very flattered, but there are strict rules and regulations...

Don't worry about that. Rules, rules are meant to be broken.

I said no, Mr James!

I'll just go and chase those bloods...

Mum sent them.

They're disgustingly over the top but, hey,

what do you expect? At least they make you smile.

You see, the...

The problem is me.

It's not him.

Even though I'm so happy with my life right now...

..Hugo Featherstone still has the power to make me feel inferior.

Useless.

I can't even make a clear decision about his treatment.

You are not useless or inferior.

Exactly!

You're no longer that snivelling little toad

who he got to clean the toilets with a toothbrush.

Dr Copeland. A word, if I may? Excuse me.

-HE SIGHS

-Here we go again.

I heard about your unfortunate burglary and happen to

recall a former patient with a passion for militaria.

He might be able to help with regards to

the loss of Dr Digby's grandfather's medals, I thought.

That would be amazing. Thank you.

Um, sorry to interrupt, Mr H, but the creche manager just called.

Santa hasn't turned up for the Christmas party.

CAROL SINGERS OUTSIDE THE ROOM

# Have yourself a merry little Christmas

# Let your heart be light

# From now on our troubles will be out of sight. #

I think we'll give most wards a run for their money

apart from AAU. Serena Campbell's probably been drilling them since Easter...

Ms Naylor.

..and I know for a fact that Sacha Levy can't sing for toffee,

but he can play the piano.

Fran Reynolds. I thought

maybe you were a bit hard on her.

She assaulted me and tried to get me suspended.

I think I was quite restrained.

Yes, well, she did seem genuinely distressed.

Well, it's been dealt with and you have a patient waiting

for a chest drain and I suggest you get on with it.

Now, Dr March! The ward's that way!

Mr James...

Look, before you ask,

I haven't worked out what's caused his episode yet, but I will do, OK?

OK, there's another problem, I'm afraid.

He's made a complaint.

About you.

-Look, I know it's ridiculous but...

-What did he say?

Well, he claims that his health was

put in danger by your inadequate care and,

er, your inappropriate touching.

I did try and warn you.

He was the one that crossed the line! Not me!

Well, erm, I'm really, really sorry,

but I have no choice. I will have to take it to Ms Campbell.

So...

..are you transferring me to another doctor

or have you finally grown some balls, Levy?

If you mean, have I made a decision about how

I wish to proceed with your treatment,

then, yes, I have.

Whipples. It's a risk, of course.

The surgery is long and arduous,

and will put inevitable strain on your already weakened system,

but in my opinion, it's your best option at this time.

Then let's do it.

Fran?!

Fran.

She'll have to listen to me now.

No real flowers, plants or even lovely little Christmas trees,

so you'll have to take it off the ward. Sorry.

PATIENT WHEEZES

You all right there?

ALARM RINGS

Can I get some help over here, please?

His pulse is 120 and his sats are 88.

Come on.

Erm, OK.

Can I get 1ml of adrenaline intramuscular injection

and 100mg of hydrocortisone IV, please?

Not you!

Listen, right now, I'm all you've got.

PATIENT WHEEZES

As soon as you can, please.

Tell me that's not who I think it is.

She collapsed. She's tachycardic, agitated, confused.

What did you take, Fran?

From the crash trolley.

Pupils are very dilated. BP's low.

-Heart rate's high.

-OK. ECG. All the normal bloods plus a tox screen.

We need to know if she has taken anything else.

Put a rush on the bloods. I want her out of here ASAP.

You've always hated me.

Dr March was kind.

She tried to help me.

Did she?

Call me when those results are back.

I have genuinely sick patients to attend to.

I told you to get her off my ward.

She was upset. I left her in the side room for five minutes.

And you left her there alone,

where she broke into a crash trolley and stole prescription drugs.

Well done, Dr March. You must be very proud of yourself.

Just when I was thinking you were someone I could rely on.

-Get it off! Get if off!

-I will. Just hang on.

What on earth is, er...?

I had a near fatal relapse

and the only person to hand was your incompetent sidekick.

Look, I can explain.

OK, erm, let's all just calm down, shall we?

He was improving. His chest X-ray was clear.

There was no new allergies detected.

OK. Have you been in contact with anything unusual over

the past couple of days?

No, I've been at home, preparing for the festive season.

Mother takes things very seriously.

-Right.

-This year's a Dickensian theme.

Candles, natural foliage, holly, ivy, mistletoe,

trees of various sizes.

Trees?

-Plural?

-Yeah.

Seven-footers in the living room and the hall.

Small ones in all the bedrooms.

Erm, a visitor did put a little mini tree over there.

It was only for five minutes,

but it was just before his lips turned blue.

Of course!

What?

Christmas Tree Syndrome!

Moulds that are found naturally on fir trees flourish

and rapidly multiply inside centrally heated homes.

How on earth did you know that?

So, around 70% of these moulds can trigger asthma attacks.

Aspergillus, cladosporium, penicillium, alternaria.

Yeah, bringing trees into the home actually increases

the number of spores from about 800 per cubic metre to 5,000.

We'll have do a specific allergy test to confirm,

but, yeah, I think we might have found the culprit.

Dr Shreve!

You abused my trust.

I was desperate.

Well, some people can't be helped. They make the same mistakes

again and again.

But an overdose?

I wasn't trying to kill myself.

I just want you to take some responsibility.

For what?

You're not innocent in all of this and you know it.

You know what I think?

I think you're jealous

because I've actually made something of my life

and you're just a sad person,

but that's not my fault.

When that stuff's worn off,

get her discharged and off my ward.

Or perhaps I should ask Valentine?

BED ALARM BEEPS

I don't feel so good.

There was always a Christmas play at school.

We did Scrooge one year.

I was cast as Tiny Tim.

Hard to believe now, but I didn't hit puberty till I was 16.

During the interval...

..Hugo stole my crutch,

threw it in the school pond.

I had to do the whole of the second half improvising with the cleaner's mop.

I cried with embarrassment for weeks.

Scissors, please.

You do realise that now you have the perfect opportunity

to seek revenge.

Just one little slip...

The past is another country, Dr Copeland,

and this poor guy here deserves nothing but our deepest sympathy.

And it looks like he might just get his wish

to be in that 5% statistic.

A man like him will always come out on top,

no matter how outrageously they behave

or who they hurt.

Dominic, could you hold that for me a second?

Just there. Just there.

He's tamponading. Alert theatre. He's going to need an emergency pericardiotomy.

But you said I'd be fine. In 24 hours, I'd be back to normal.

Well, Dr March went beyond her remit there, I'm afraid.

Something she's turning into quite a habit.

Can I wait till my girlfriend gets here? Please.

If you want to go into cardiac failure and brain death then, yes, be my guest.

Otherwise, I suggest you sign the consent forms now.

Could you get a consent form for me?

If I can just remove the tumour.

He could still be receptible.

Mr Levy, the cancer has already invaded the SMA.

-You could provoke a bleed.

-Let's just see if I can free it.

It could mean he can eat and drink normally, at least for a time.

Yes, but the cancer has already spread way more than we thought.

So why didn't I see this on the pre-op scan?

He wants to fight this and a man like Hugo, love him or loathe him,

he never gives in.

Absolutely.

But now it's your call.

Then it's time to stop.

Right. Let's close him up.

Morven? You OK?

No.

I'm not OK.

Because I'm crap with patients and diagnoses.

Then you swan in and, bam, job done.

Please don't tell Ms Campbell yet. Not just yet. I can't take it.

Right, a little bit too late, I'm afraid.

I wouldn't have thought Mr James was your type, Morven.

He isn't. I mean, it really wasn't like that.

Oh, don't worry about it.

Once I've done with these consultant interviews,

I'm sure I'll be able to talk him round.

-PAGER BLEEPS

-Ah, that's the last candidate now.

Erm, just to be clear,

Mr James, he really can't complain about his treatment

cos Dr Shreve, after eliminating some far more obvious triggers,

actually successfully diagnosed a rather unusual case

of Christmas Tree Syndrome.

How suitably seasonal of you! Well done.

Excellent detective work.

Did you really need me for this?

Why did you do that?

Well, I just wanted to, erm...

What? To make me look better?

Am I really such a saddo, now, that I need to take

credit for something I didn't even do?

No. No, no, of course not but...

Look, I need to impress in my own right or not at all!

I told you I'd make it, Levy.

Did you get the bastard?

All of it?

We had to stop, I'm afraid.

But I explicitly said...

The cancer had spread and is inoperable.

I can offer you no further surgery.

I'm so sorry.

Typical of you, Levy.

Give up at the first hurdle.

I'll get a second opinion.

-I want this gone.

-You'd be wasting your time.

-I'm not giving up now.

-Chemotherapy may buy you a little more time but...

I'll sign up for a trial. I don't care about the risks.

Hugo, listen to me.

I know you don't want to hear this...

..but you're dying.

And there is nothing that I nor anyone else can do about that,

except help you die well.

And part of that process

is acceptance.

The time for fighting is over.

HE SOBS

The allergy test proved positive.

So, just synthetic trees from now on.

-And in light of Dr Shreve's life-saving actions...

-No.

I'm not withdrawing my complaint.

Mr James,

I think you might have the wrong end of the stick.

Someone needs to teach her a lesson.

Girl's a liability.

Actually,

Dr Shreve is one of the most talented

and hard working juniors in this hospital.

Possibly in the entire country.

Christmas Tree Syndrome is an extremely rare condition

and whilst I may have come up with the final diagnosis,

that was purely based on the breadth

and quality of my colleague's brilliant clinical investigation.

Rare?

HE CHUCKLES

Mother always said I was unusual.

Yes, well, I think we can all agree on that.

Sorry about that.

Crying like a baby.

There's no shame in it.

My team at the Huntley didn't have your courage.

Just kept offering me false hope.

I was just doing my job.

You're a bigger man than you realise, Levy.

You always were.

So what if you don't fit the cliched image of the driven,

arrogant consultant?

You have something far more valuable to offer.

Your kindness.

Your generosity.

Your humility.

It's high time you started to believe in yourself.

Hugo, will you excuse me, please?

Sacha?

I've got an interview to get to.

LIFT: Doors closing.

Thank you so much, Mrs Mills.

We'll be in touch.

-Thank you.

-Thank you.

Mrs Campbell?

Am I too late?

Ah, is Mr Maxwell ready for theatre?

Yes, he's with the anaesthetist now.

-But, um...

-What?

Fran Reynolds - I can't find her anywhere.

That's not my problem. Get a nurse on to it.

The children of the hospital were let down.

So...

I stepped into the breach.

Or britches, to be more precise.

Well, I'm sure Emma appreciated it.

She was looking forward to meeting the real Father Christmas.

Even if he doesn't quite look like the one she was expecting.

Well, Emma wasn't there.

Of course she was. I dropped her there myself.

No, no, they said she'd already been collected,

which is why I'm here to give you her present.

Yes, this is Emma Naylor's mother. Where the hell is she?

Picked up by who?

No, I gave no such authority!

What did she look like?

Mr Hanssen here. Security, please.

A child has been taken.

Did she say where she was going?

We have to find her!

That's it!

We're going on a little adventure!

We're going to see Father Christmas.

Yay!

You'd like that, wouldn't you?

The last time I was in this room...

..I lost my rag.

Partly because, deep down,

I didn't think I deserved to be here.

But, now...I believe I do.

Why don't you tell us a bit about the case-based research you intend to publish?

Male. 50.

Stage 2A pancreatic cancer.

Following a detailed evaluation of his history,

I decided to try and remove the tumour laparoscopically.

However, during surgery, it soon became clear the cancer had spread.

Following a frank review,

the patient decided to seek no further treatment.

Right, er, thank you, Mr Levy.

But it might be helpful if you could present a more...complex case.

One that illustrates your singular skills and helps us mark you out

from the other candidates.

I just did.

You see, you're right.

There was no miraculous outcome.

But I helped a proud man come to terms with the fact

that I could do no more for him.

A fact that he'd found it very, very hard to accept.

So now he can die well.

At home.

With dignity.

Safe in the knowledge that we all did our very best.

And, to me, that's success.

If that's too everyday for you to consider me worthy, then...

so be it.

But that is the kind of doctor I am.

And always will be.

Thank you for your time.

It's hers.

..if we can find Father Christmas?

-SHE GASPS

-Whoa!

Can you see the star?

It's so beautiful.

CAROLLERS START TO SING

We're going to have a Christmas tree.

-I'll call security.

-I'm not waiting for anyone.

Ah, ah, ah!

Got your attention now, haven't I?

Let her go.

-If you don't give her to me...

-Listen.

I know you're angry.

And you think that no-one is listening to you, but we are.

I promise.

She's not.

Let her go. You're scaring her.

Please?

There we go.

Good girl, good girl.

-I'll stay.

-No, not you. Her.

Oh, no, that's right! Walk away!

Pretend nothing's happening.

Just like you did at Bartholomew's!

Zosia, take her inside.

Go on, take the teddy, good girl.

BACKGROUND CAROL SINGING

Oh, Mr Levy? Have you got a minute?

Yes.

I'm going to put some dosh behind the bar at Albie's this evening

for a bit of a Christmas tipple.

I wondered if you, oh, and Essie, would like to join me?

Well, that's, that's very decent of you...

-In fact, I feel I should be buying you a drink.

-Why?

Well, you were kind enough to give me another shot...

I mean, I know I went majorly off-piste again...

but I really can't be the kind of doctor that you all want me to be...

-I-I just can't...

-Erm, hmm. Right, right. Erm...

Well, I'm really not supposed to tell you this, but...

the decision was unanimous.

Welcome to the club, Mr Levy.

SHE LAUGHS

My real name's Dawn.

Dawn Duncan.

Always hated it.

Jacqueline.

Jacqui...

So glamorous.

Like some '70s film star.

I was just plain. A proper frizzhead. Blue NHS glasses. You couldn't miss me.

Hmm?

Maybe you don't want to remember.

Christmas 1990.

Nobody wanted me, so I ended up in St Bart's Children's Home.

I remember when I walked in and saw you,

sitting apart from all the others.

I thought you were really pretty.

I came over and said hello.

You never even looked up.

Is there a point to this?

Christmas Eve was the first time.

He said he had a present for me.

That man ruined my life.

What man?

Yates.

Mr Yates.

We had to call him Uncle.

I was in my room.

You watched him coming for me across the hall.

I remember your eyes staring.

I thought you were going to say something,

help me.

But as he closed the door...

..you turned away like nothing was happening.

Happy freaking Christmas.

So, you came looking for me?

Give me some credit. I'm not a complete psycho.

-Then what are you doing here?

-I'm a gypsy.

Always travelling from place to place.

It was bound to happen sooner or later.

He died, by the way, Yates.

Massive stroke.

Never had to answer for what he did!

-Where's the justice in that, eh?

-Be careful, Fran. You'll fall.

-Why?

-Nobody cares.

-That's not true.

You never did!

All this time, I've been struggling to get my life back together

because of him, because of you!

And you don't even bloody remember!

Because it's easier that way.

Erm, Mr James has withdrawn his complaint, by the way.

Yeah, thought you'd be pleased.

Yeah, I am...just...

All that Romeo and Juliet stuff, I was just having a laugh.

I'll, er...I'll see you in the bar.

That's a bit...too small.

Sorry.

I was one of the few girls he avoided.

Knew how to shut people out even then.

I'm not proud of it,

but it was the only way to survive.

You've done more than that.

You've made something of your life.

I'm 40. With nothing.

There's only so many ways you can reinvent yourself.

Oh, my God! Look.

SHE CRIES

Can't you see them?

What?

Christmas angels.

They're not real, Fran.

It's the drugs you took. They can make you hallucinate, you know that...

No...

They're saying I'll be all right if I go with them.

Fran...

You don't care about me.

They do.

If you step over that edge, then he's won.

Yates is to blame, not me, not you. We were just children.

Take my hand, I won't turn away this time.

I promise.

CHOIR SINGS DING DONG MERRILY ON HIGH

FRAN SCREAMS

DOOR CRASHES OPEN

Jac? What the hell happened?

She fell two storeys. Suspected head injury, major abdominal trauma. She's tachycardic. BP's falling.

Dr March, I want you in on this.

Good breath sounds bilaterally.

Sats 98. Heart rate 120.

BP 80/60. Thank you.

C chest, spine and pelvis X-ray and abdominal ultrasound now, please.

Pupils are blown. She needs a head CT scan right now or we'll lose her.

Jac, you don't have to be involved in this.

-Mr Self and I can handle this.

-No. I'm not leaving her.

Wash.

Suction.

-Come on, Fran.

-Where's it coming from?

Very hard to tell. More light, please.

Thank you.

Right, the spleen is ruptured. We'll have to remove it. Clip, please.

Can she survive this?

Not many people would, but she's a very determined woman, tougher than most.

She's had to be.

MUSIC: White Christmas by Ella Fitzgerald

# With every Christmas card I write... #

-Hey.

-Hey!

Merry Christmas.

Look, I know they're not exactly the same,

but it's the same campaign, it's the same regiment.

I just, I didn't know what else to do to try and show you

how truly, truly sorry I am...

-How on earth did you...?

-Just call it a Christmas miracle.

But look, I've got to get back to work but...

Are we, are we OK?

Er...yes, we're OK.

We'll always be OK.

See you later.

-I'm sorry about earlier, I didn't mean to...

-I'm so sorry...

-No, no, no, I didn't mean to patronise you.

-I just felt like such an idiot.

-No, no, it was...

-Aw...

My lovely little AAU family.

We are waifs and strays, one and all...

Ooh, how marvellous.

THEY LAUGH

Do you want to go somewhere quieter, like maybe for a drink,

-or curry or something? You know. My shout.

-Oh...

It's the least I can do...

-Yeah, no, I'd love to but I've got the Napoleon Collector's Society dinner.

-Oh, right.

-I booked the ticket months ago, otherwise I'd...

-No, no...you must...go.

Another time, maybe?

-Yeah.

-OK.

-Sure.

Great. Well, erm...

-Oh.

-MORVEN LAUGHS

-See you tomorrow, then.

-Yeah.

THEY LAUGH

Yeah, sorry, hi.

She's bloody lucky she didn't kill herself, or anyone else for that matter. The woman's dangerous.

It's complicated.

She assaulted you, she kidnapped your child.

-Nothing complicated about that.

-There was no harm done.

Which is a miracle.

You know the police are waiting to speak to you?

I'm not pressing charges.

You can't be serious?

She's damaged. She needs help, not punishment.

Jac, what happened up there?

It's private.

We're colleagues, and she's our patient.

And it seems clear to me Ms Naylor has said all she wants to say on the matter.

Dr March.

I want to thank you for what you did up there.

I have a habit of going in all guns blazing,

and if you hadn't stepped in...

Well, I'm just glad it worked out.

I see a lot of myself in you, and that's not necessarily a compliment,

but it might mean you'll make an exceptional doctor.

-Hey.

-Hey.

How's Fran?

Ah, well, they wouldn't let me in to see her, but, yeah, I think she'll be OK.

It's going to be a long haul, but it could've been a lot worse.

Makes me feel very lucky to be where I am with you now.

This time last Christmas I was in Germany, thinking we were over.

Now here we are sipping champagne,

and celebrating you becoming a consultant.

-Congratulations.

-Thank you very much.

GLASSES CLINK

Yes, and we're trying for a family of our own.

Yes, I couldn't be happier.

Which is why...

Sasha...

What is it?

Estelle Eva Harrison.

Will you make me, Sacha Jacob Levy,

the happiest man in the world by agreeing to be my wife?

THEY LAUGH

Is that a yes?

ESTELLE LAUGHS Of course it's a yes!

-MORVEN:

-Did she say yes?

-Yes, she said yes!

THEY CHEER AND APPLAUD

THEY LAUGH

OK, I'll get you a real one, I promise you I'll get you a real one, I just...

I...I didn't really feel worthy until today.

This one's perfect.

THEY CHEER

Will someone help me up? I'm an old man, I can't do this any more!

Up you get.

Congratulations! Well done.

How are you doing?

I'm still here.

You're stronger than you think.

People like us have to be.

Even though Yates never got to me,

I knew that he might one day.

So, I resolved never to let anyone make me feel that powerless.

I'll never let him win.

Neither will I...

Police found this in your car.

I thought you might need it.

Chloe is waiting outside.

I don't know...

I mean, what's she going to think? Look at the state of me.

-I must've been stupid thinking she'd ever want to marry me.

-Look...

If she really is...the one,

..she'll just be happy that...she didn't lose you.

The elaborate proposal, the pyrotechnics, that's just the icing on the cake.

If she's going to turn you down because you're a bit bashed up

and you need her support for a bit, well, that's not love in my book.

You might as well know that now.

THEY LAUGH

So, shall I, erm, show her in?

Yep.

Jamie! Oh, my God!

-Oh!

-SHE CRIES

SHE LAUGHS AND CRIES

Who knew you were such a romantic, Mr Valentine?

Maybe Christmas is getting to you after all.

Yes, well, it rather passed me by last year

as I languished in my, er...my pit of hopeless despair.

JAC LAUGHS

Yes, and I ran amok through the hospital, declaiming my mother was alive and well

in the guise of a homeless, geriatric stranger.

Yeah, seemed perfectly plausible to me.

Yes, well look at us now. I'm healed, and you're...

..perfectly sane.

THEY LAUGH

Well, I wouldn't say that, but...

we're making progress.

Yeah.

Looks like he took your advice.

Yes! Yes! Of course! Of course!

Oh, wow!

42% chance it'll end in divorce, but good luck to them.

Wow. Cynical to the end.

Just stating the facts.

I'm sorry, so all that stuff you were saying earlier about finding the one,

this "love in your book", were you just saying all that

-to make him feel better?

-No.

I meant every word.

SHE SIGHS

Still looking after Professor Hope's dog, I see.

AKA the Mutt From Hell. Escaped from the dog minder again today.

Naughty.

CHOIR SINGS SILENT NIGHT

So, it'll be just the three of you for Christmas, will it?

And Emma's dad.

You're welcome to join us if you're not doing anything.

Thank you.

No, I think Christmas is for families, don't you?

Cherish it while you can.