Cover Up Holby City

Hi, Nicole. I am Mr Di Lucca.

All you need to know is that it's her husband I'm after.

It's not even his baby.

Ron, I-I know you're angry and I know how you feel.

Shut up!

-Promise me you'd look after William.

-Promise.

Sorcia, you're a fighter. Don't do this.

Lock us together or I pull his hands apart!

-GUNFIRE

-Oh!

How about you come to my house for tea

and I can tell you all about your mummy?

-I've split up with my husband.

-Cara.

He cheated.

Ah, have you taken up speed walking now as well as looking after

a three-year-old?

William didn't want me to leave him at the creche.

But we are entering a brave new world, he and I.

Watch out Gwynnie, here comes Momma Mo!

Now, I can attest to the nutritional value of the porridge oat,

but as to its effect on the epidermis...

MOBILE PHONE RINGS

Sorry, can you...

Oh, I'm coming, I'm coming, I'm coming.

What's happened?

Tiger? What tiger?

Ah, yes, THAT tiger, yes.

All right, yeah, right. Could you tell him I'll be there in five?

-Oh, it's this way.

-Ms Effanga?

-Hmm.

Oh, thank you. I was just... Yeah.

-I saw an incredible docco on the net last night.

-Oh, yeah?

They reckon we're on the brink of the sixth mass extinction

-in the history of the planet...

-Lovely.

-..and it's all the fault of Homo sapiens.

-Huh?

Sapiens - US, the human race.

Yeah, sounds about right.

-Catch anything yourself?

-The Real Housewives Of New Jersey.

Isn't that our diaphragmatic hernia from the other week?

Yeah.

-Hello again.

-Nicole's just been sent through from the ED.

Problem with her wound from her op's giving her gyp.

-Well, we'll get it looked at.

-Yeah, uh, Cara.

Yep.

Hiya.

-I thought you were on your way to maternity...

-Sorry?

-..when I saw you.

-When you saw us?

Yeah, just now.

Could you get Nicole settled in, please?

I've actually got a bit, erm... Fletch, could you?

Sorry, I'm on my way to an MDT meeting so, er, no.

-Five and seven are free.

-Right.

-Thanks for sorting my oppo' out...

-Your oppo'?

Yeah, Jed. He was in with a bad arm.

No worries. How's he doing?

-He's good, isn't he, Sean?

-Yeah.

PAGER BEEPS

-Sorry, you'll have to excuse me.

-She's in pain.

-I can sort that out.

Thank God I've got you to look after me.

Could you do some bloods and arrange an ultrasound?

And I'll be right back.

-Morning.

-Morning.

So, what does the day hold for Mr Self?

Oh, just paperwork.

I thought you had surgery lined up?

I'm waiting on some test results, so I've postponed.

-Shame.

-Yes, can't be helped.

I was hoping to watch you in action.

Why?

No particular reason.

There's always a reason where you're concerned.

I thought spend a few hours with the troops would be good.

Maybe next time.

Yeah, there is a slight infection but it's nothing to worry about.

It can't affect the baby?

-No, and you did the right thing coming in.

-Miracles.

-I'm not with you.

-Me doing the right thing.

Ah.

Could you clean and redress and let's get her on some antibiotics?

-Gentamicin.

-OK.

I could be dying, he'd still be on that mobile.

Erm, just need to concentrate on this.

Sorry.

-Can you see him?

-Who?

The baby, through the wound?

N-No.

I was only joking.

-That's a mad thing to say.

-That's me, mad as a box of frogs.

Have you decided what you're going to do?

We're going to try and disappear...

once the baby's born.

Jed says we should wait.

Right.

-What's that?

-What's what?

-I'm soaking!

I think your waters have broken.

Nice shirt.

-So what've you got for me, boss man?

-OK, please don't call me boss man.

Anything juicy on the books?

Right, Peter Earl, 38, broken arm. He's in bed four.

Hang on, is that it? Broken arm?

-It needs pinning.

-That's something I suppose.

You could assist the orthopod, if you like.

Really? I thought I was just here to observe for now.

No, get your hands dirty, I think.

-Nice one, boss man.

-Ah...

Sorry.

Mr Earl.

Yes.

-I'm Mr Levy and this is Mr Law.

-Hi.

The two horsemen of the apocalypse.

Sorry?

-How did you break the arm?

-I fell out of bed...

-Oh, bad luck.

-..during a nightmare...

-Ouch!

-..that foretold my own death.

-Right, and you woke up just before you...

-No, I don't die in the dream.

I'm given the date I'm going to die.

Right, should we get back to your arm?

-And it's a recurring dream, is it?

-Exactly.

-Now it looks...

-A long way off?

-..from the scan like you might need...

It's today, actually.

-..surgery.

-What?

Today is the day I die.

You're kidding? How long?

What kind of an answer is that?

Just...page me if anything becomes free.

This can't be happening now.

Well, it is, babe, so you're going to have to go with it.

Maternity's full, but they're working on it.

-What?

-No beds.

-No beds? Until when?

-They couldn't say.

-Right, so what are we going to do?

Well, they're sending down the midwife to check on you.

And we've got no other room,

so you're just going to have to stay here.

Right, and that's all you can do?

I can call round the other units, see if they can transfer her?

-She's already in labour.

-And in hospital. Look, happy days.

I'll go and get Raf.

Why do I get the bloke with the death wish to deal with?

You could always go back to anaesthesia.

Ah, Mr Earl. How you doing?

I'm just sending the solicitor some last-minute changes to my will.

Oh, well, I'll have the Ming vases, if that's OK.

It's not a joke.

-Sorry.

-I had it all planned.

Full English, sort my admin and wait.

-For?

-Didn't know.

But then, I had my fall

and, obviously, a chain of events is under way.

-Uh, do you need a witness?

-What?

For the will.

-Are you mocking me?

-No.

I have to say, you seem very calm about the prospect of death.

Well, I've gone through all the stages of grieving my passing.

I've raged, I've denied.

Now I've reached acceptance.

-What if we manage to keep you alive?

-That won't be happening.

HE WINCES IN PAIN

Mr Earl, are you all right?

-Ah, my back.

-Is that from the fall?

-No.

ED ruled out a spinal fracture.

-And my leg.

-OK, on a scale of one to ten, how bad is this?

Sounds like an 11.

-Right, well, we'll up your pain relief, Peter, OK?

-Thank you.

I'll get a colleague to take a look at you.

So it begins.

-SHE EXHALES DEEPLY

-That's another one.

-Any news from maternity?

-No change.

-What about the other hospitals?

-Still waiting on a call.

These contractions are getting worse.

OK, I want you to just focus on your breathing.

-This is ridiculous.

-Why don't you go and get a coffee?

We could be here a while.

-Will you be all right?

-Fine.

I love you.

Pass us my mobile.

Thanks.

'Hi, this is Jed. Leave me a message.'

Hello, Jed, I'm in Holby AAU.

The baby's coming early.

I need you.

You don't think bad of me, do you?

Why would I?

So, Peter Earl's notes, definitely no spinal fracture?

-Nada.

-Was it psychosomatic?

It seemed like real pain to me.

Not so straightforward after all.

-Right, let's get a neuro consult.

-Neuro? Do you reckon?

Texting your bloke?

No.

-Things didn't work out with my mate?

-What?

Well, last time I saw you,

-you both looked like you were enjoying each other's company.

-Yeah.

Then he said you stood him up.

-Had a better offer.

-I got the impression he liked you.

-Yeah, I thought I liked him too.

-But?

I dunno, I er...

I think something just put me off.

-Like to keep them guessing, do you?

-Not really.

Well, if you change your mind, I'd vouch for him.

Not many out there better than our Jed.

Yeah.

-Ah, morning team!

-Morning.

-Hi.

Uh, is there something on your...

Ah, yeah, forgot about that.

-William, he doesn't like porridge.

-Who's got him now?

-He's in the creche.

-That's great.

-Yeah.

-Give him a chance to play with some other kids.

-Hopefully.

Better crack on.

Thank you.

-Right, what's keeping this obstetrician?

-Good news.

-What?

-We found a unit with a free bed.

-It's too late for that.

-Why?

-She's fully dilated.

-But...

Could you chase the obstetrician and page a neonatologist?

Now, please.

-Maybe it'll be you...

-Sorry?

..that applies the coup de grace.

Oh, yes.

I've been informed about your visions of impending doom by Mr Law.

Or I might be discharged and hit by a bus on the way home.

Yeah, well, not until we suss out what's causing your back pain.

If it does happen on your watch, please, don't take it personally.

Oh, don't worry, I won't.

Can't say the same for the bus driver.

-In a way, it's a comfort.

-What?

How many times a day do we contemplate our mortality?

Speak for yourself.

Wouldn't you want to know when the moment is at hand?

Tell me, what are those scars on your hand?

Burns.

I run a hog roast business. Occupational hazard.

I would eat the profits.

OK, let's book a brain and full spine MRI. Mr Earl.

What do you reckon?

Reflexes are brisk, planters up-standing,

so definitely signs of upper motor neurone interference.

Right, I'll call radiology.

-Hey, are you OK?

-Why?

I don't know, you just seem a bit...

-What?

-..off.

Well, I'm not.

Jed.

Don't do that.

I don't want you in there...

-Eh?

-..with them.

-Cara, listen...

I can't stand there and watch her have your baby

-while you're in the room.

-I have no choice.

-Yes, you do. You could leave.

-I need to be there.

-She asked for me.

-I know.

I need to make sure she says nothing to Brady.

Right, so you're just here to cover your own backside?

-For her own sake.

-Not just for the case?

-No.

What about the baby?

-I can't speak to you about that.

-What'll you say to Brady?

-I don't know.

-He's going to want to know why you've just turned up here

-out of the blue.

-Just let me deal with this.

You understand what you're asking me to do?

I need to see this through, Cara.

Let go.

-Hello, Frank.

-All right, love?

-So, what are you in for?

-Oh, search me.

Frank has chest pains and difficulty breathing.

Ever since I first clapped eyes on her.

When did you first notice your symptoms?

Oh, about two days ago at the nursing home.

They got the doctor out to me. This was all his idea.

OK, let's take a little listen to your chest.

Dr March, do the honours, please.

I don't suppose you could get this blasted thing working, could you?

I can't get a signal.

Let's get you sorted first.

If my heart suddenly starts pounding, it's her fault.

Breathe in. And out.

-How's it sounding?

-There's a bit of a crackle.

And what about the snap and pop?

-We'll need to do a sputum test.

-What's that when it's at home?

-You're going to have to cough up some phlegm for us.

-In front of you?

I think I'll just leave you in Dr March's capable hands.

What if it shatters all her illusions, eh?

THEY LAUGH

Where is she?

-Hey, Doc.

-Oh, hello. How's your arm?

-Yeah, sound.

-Well, you're lucky.

A compound fracture with that type of arterial interruption

-can be life-changing.

-Nicole Brady?

SHOUTS OF LABOUR PAIN

Bay five.

Sean?

All right, mate?

-Don't really think you need visitors right now, huh?

-It's OK.

-What are you doing here?

-Come to get this taken off.

-Already?

-Yeah, outpatients.

That was quick.

Bumped into this nurse. She told me where you were.

-Didn't you?

-Yeah.

-How you doing?

-I'm good, just brilliant(!)

-There's no room in maternity.

-Is someone having a baby?

Yeah, I think it might be on the way.

And I really think she could use some space.

Couple of things I need to talk to you about anyway, bud.

-You'll be all right for a minute, babe?

-Yeah, she's fine.

Doctor, Doctor, how do I go about speaking to a priest?

I'm sorry?

I'm Catholic by birth. Is there a Catholic priest available here?

Uh, we have a chaplain.

Can he administer the Last Rites?

Mr Earl, I understand that you've been having troubling dreams

and it may seem ominous to find yourself on a hospital ward...

-Please don't patronise me.

-I'm not patronising you.

I know this is real.

-Would you like to talk to somebody about it?

-Yes.

A priest.

You'll have to take that up with the nursing staff.

Excuse me, everyone. Whose bag is this?

Well, it must belong to somebody?

Uh, it's mine.

-Oh, it's yours, is it, nurse?

-Yes, it's my gym stuff.

Why have you left it on the ward?

-I forgot.

-Clearly.

Get rid of it.

Just try and breathe through it. That's it.

It'll be all right, won't it, coming this early?

The midwife will be back soon and all the consultants.

-I don't think I can wait!

-They won't be long.

-I think it's coming now.

-I'll get Mr Di Lucca.

-Cara...

-Yes?

..what am I going to do?

-Mind if I take over?

-Of course.

I always fancied having a chauffeur.

-At your service.

-Any news?

Your ECG showed nothing to worry about.

I meant on Dr March.

Is she fantasising about me or what?

We've got the results of your sputum test too.

-Oh, lovely.

-There's no sign of pneumonia...

You can tell from a bit of spit?

..but we do need to know what's going on in your chest.

It's just a cough.

So, we'll be sending you for a chest X-ray.

Will your oppo be along for the ride?

Afraid you'll just have to make do with a nurse.

She doesn't half remind me of my Mary.

Is that your wife?

-Film star looks she had.

-Oooh!

I don't half miss that face.

When did she pass?

Oh, knocking ten years now.

I'm sorry.

-I don't see a ring on your finger.

-Ah, tragic spinster, me.

Oh, you're young, gifted...

and gorgeous!

-You're too kind.

-I bet they're queuing up.

Fellas with film star looks? I don't think so.

I still can't get the internet on that flaming thing.

-I'll get someone to come have a look for you.

-You know who?

LOUD YELLS

It's a breech.

You're doing really well, Nicole.

-Baby is coming out bottom first, Nicole.

-What?!

-Where the hell's the specialist?

-Just keep calm.

-Easy for you to say, mate.

-I'm talking to your wife, Mr Brady.

It's going to be all right.

-Oh, at last.

-They're like buses, this lot.

-Ah, Frank Thorpe. I need an X-ray. Swapsies?

-What's in it for me?

Oliver Valentine. Nothing if not a beacon of selflessness.

I can be selfless. Actually, I was just...thinking about Mo.

Ah, have you spoken to her about Sorcia?

-It's not all about you.

-About Sorcia?

I think it's best that we don't mention it.

She's got enough on her plate with William.

Actually, why don't we give her a break tonight?

You take her for a drink at Albie's.

I'll hang with my main man, Willsy?

Right. I think Mo is more likely to agree if I look after William.

OK, well, whoever does has got to pick their moment.

She's a waver, not a drowner so...

..may the best man win.

So, how long have you been having these dreams?

A few months now.

-Must be pretty traumatic.

-It was at first.

So, what does your wife think about it all, then?

-I'm not married.

-Oh, I'm sorry. I thought you said that you...

No, I have a wife in my dreams, but...

Oh, I see.

(I think.)

Right, your brain MRI is clear,

but we have found a cyst compressing your spinal cord.

That's it then.

Far from it. I can perform a procedure to remove the cyst.

You're really not listening to me, are you?

-No, you're not listening to me.

-I think what Mr Self means...

I understand exactly what he means.

Well, despite that gloomy prognosis,

I'd still like to get you into theatre as soon as possible.

-Fine.

-Thank you.

Oh, erm, hog roast, did you say?

-That's right, yeah.

-I take it you're not a vegetarian?

I despise vegetarianism.

-Do you eat much of your own product?

-Of course.

My pork's won awards.

Any chance of it ever being undercooked?

That is an affront to my professionalism.

We'll see you in a bit, OK, Peter?

Prep him for theatre.

-So, what's the angle with the pork?

-Still working on it.

LABOUR SCREAMS

Will you just take this cast off for me?

What?

-I told him it's coming off, haven't I?

-And?

-I can hardly do it myself, Cara.

-Unbelievable.

It needs to look like a proper job.

That's it, babe. Come on, one last push.

You have to push hard. The legs are out but the head is stuck.

Should be you in there.

LABOUR SCREAMS

-Yes!

-Well done.

Congratulations.

What's the matter?

Tell me what's the matter.

-Let's go. Ready?

-What is going on?!

You'll be discharged by the end of the day.

The elixir of life.

Indeed, yeah. I've pulled forward the X-ray for Mr Thorpe.

Oh, you beauty.

It's funny, isn't it, how some people don't have anyone in the world?

Yes, and lucky how others do, eh?

-How are you coping, Mo?

-Huh?

Well, it's a big old responsibility.

Oh, you know me. Mo "Cope" Effanga.

Yes, I heard that.

Just thinking that you, er, could use some, er, reprieve.

-Not sure that's on the cards.

-Oh, but it could be.

That's where I come to the rescue.

-Yeah, that's...

-Mmmm, imagine a nice cold pint!

Sorry.

The sweet scent of fresh OJ cascading over crisp cubes of ice.

The warm buzz of adult company.

That feeling, that glow you get from truly winding down.

-Actually, all I really want...

-I'll babysit William for an hour.

You take a time out, go to Albie's, have a drink...with Zosia.

Look, I appreciate your concern but I can look after a three-year-old

and work at the same time.

-Can I have my tea?

-Oh, right.

-Thanks.

So, Peter Earl, a parasitic infection?

Neurocystericosis is pretty rare in the spine,

but once I'd made the connection with pork...

-That's a hell of a diagnosis.

-Thanks.

-I don't think our friend's going to be overly impressed.

-Hmm.

Right, I'll need someone to assist.

-I'll do it.

-Excellent.

Any news?

Not yet.

When will I be able to see him?

Soon, I'm sure.

I can't take this.

-He's a fighter, that wee boy of yours.

-He's OK?

He's just out here. Why don't you help me bring him in?

Oh...I thought he was going to die!

I'm really happy for you.

Come here.

Here he is.

Oh, my God!

Nice and gentle.

Make sure you support his neck, OK?

-I think you'd better hand him over, Dad.

-Oh, yeah, yeah.

Hello, sweetie.

-Jed, come on.

-I'll leave you to it.

-Hey, so he's all right, then?

-He's fighting fit.

-And handsome with it.

-Just like his dad.

Take a picture.

-So, what are you going to call him, then?

-Tom, after my dad.

You ready?

-Nice.

-Right, you get in.

-No, no, it's all right.

-Do the honours?

Oh, you don't want me taking it.

-My photos always turn out rubbish.

-Don't be daft, here you are.

Happy families, eh?

-Say cheese.

-Cheese.

How we doing, Frank?

I know you can get it all on the internet these days,

but you cannae beat a real paper.

-All right, I've got your X-ray results.

-And?

You have what we call a pleural effusion on the left lung.

We had one of them but the wheel fell off.

It's fluid on the lung, basically.

-Serious, is it?

-We need to do more tests before...

-You must know something?

-We don't like to speculate.

You wouldn't tell me porkies, would you?

Just sit tight. I've got a quick op to do, then I'll get you sorted.

Excuse me, mate, couldn't borrow your computer for a minute, could I?

-Just going to do a ring round of the family.

-OK.

-You'll be all right for ten minutes?

-Yeah, fine.

Do you want a hold?

It's your son.

Isn't he perfect?

Yeah.

-He'll be ready for another feed soon.

-I'll leave you to it.

You can stay, Jed.

What about Sean?

He'll be ages if he's on to his mother.

I love you.

Jed?

You too.

Hog roast.

You're going to scrub your fingerprints off.

Hmm?

Oh, right.

No, please, wait, no!

How we doing?

-I don't want to die!

-You're not going to die.

-This is it.

-You have a cyst pressing on your spinal cord.

-It could paralyse you.

-It's going to kill me.

I have never in my entire career lost anyone in spinal surgery.

I don't care.

Right, let's cancel.

-What?

-Cancel.

Are you serious?

-Take him back to the ward.

-Uh, Mr Self?

-Wait!

What if I'm wrong?

What if I die because I turn the operation down...

-There's a better chance of that...

-..like some sort of double bluff?

Who knows?

OK, I'll do it.

You'll do it?

-If I don't, I'll spend my last hours in agony anyway.

-Good point.

Fine. Shall we?

-Is this all just a game to you?

-No.

How can you stand there and tell her that you love her?

-Think I like doing this?

-I don't know.

It's part of the job, Cara.

-Is that like getting her pregnant was part of the job?

-Shh, keep it down!

When she said it to you, she meant it.

-She's looking for an escape route.

-No.

-She thinks I'm it.

Do you know what the worst part of this whole nightmare is?

Please, tell me.

It makes me doubt every word that has ever come out of your mouth.

Look, the man you met in there is not the same man as your husband.

-Yes, he is. He's exactly the same.

-No, he's not. He's Jed.

-Jed the enforcer, Jed the collector, Jed the driver.

-Oh, stop!

-He'll be gone soon...

-Please.

-..like he never existed.

You have a son. He exists.

Jed the parent exists

and nothing can ever change that.

-All right, bud?

-Hey.

In the mood for celebrating?

Always.

-We haven't even got a diagnosis yet.

-Yes, you have.

It's either heart failure, liver disease or...

Where are you getting this from, Frank?

-I looked it up on the internet.

-Oh, Frank!

You hear of people coming to the hospital feeling a bit off

and they never get out of the place.

Look, you will be the first to hear

as soon as we've got some more answers.

Pulmonary embolism, that's another one.

I'm going to be performing a thoracentesis to drain away

the excess fluid and then, we'll know more.

-Mo?

-Yes.

-Creche on line one.

Sorry, I have to take this.

Hello.

What's he done?

Right.

OK, can you put him on, please?

Hey, William, it's Momo.

Yeah, I'm sorry, sweetheart.

Mummy's gone to live with the angels, hasn't she?

Oh, she can't come back, darling.

I can make you sausage and mash.

It's not as good as your mum's? How dare you!

SHE LAUGHS

I know, it's sad.

I know, I'm sad too.

But, hey... Yeah, course you can have onion gravy.

Listen, I tell you what,

as soon as I finish work, I'm going to come and pick you up, OK?

All right. Bye-bye.

I swear, if I have to eat one more sausage...

You sure you don't want one?

Sorry to break-up the party.

There's no drinking on the ward.

You'll let us off, won't you? Only be a second.

-Cheers.

-Cheers.

I'll change that dressing in a minute.

-I'd like to propose a toast...

-Thanks.

..to little Tom

and dads everywhere.

-Dads.

-Dads.

Cheers.

You can't really argue with his logic for going ahead in the end...

..and it's not like he's going to be around to say, "I told you so,"

if he's was right.

What is it Spike Milligan has on his gravestone?

Mr Levy...

I'd appreciate it if you'd let me concentrate on the job at hand.

Course. Sorry.

You want some help, babe?

I'm only going for a pee.

All right.

You think he's doing well?

Yeah.

Got great things planned for this boy.

Really?

Look at his little fingers.

Amazing, isn't it?

He's so tiny.

He's not a bad size, actually.

Do you reckon?

I mean, I'm no expert but for six weeks' premature...

-Sorry?

-What?

You said six weeks.

-Did I?

-Definitely.

-My mistake.

-Right.

-He's two weeks early, isn't he?

-Yeah.

-One of those days.

-Absolutely.

-You did what?

-It just came out.

-What is wrong with you?

-I'm caught in the middle of that many lies...

You did it deliberately?

-Why on earth...

-OK, OK.

-How did he react?

-He picked me up on it straight away.

-And what did you do?

-Well, I told him I made a mistake.

-Was he suspicious?

-It was hard to tell.

-So he bought the excuse, right?

-I think so.

HE WINCES

He didn't make a big deal of it.

OK, so we just play everything normal. All right?

Normal?

I don't even know what that is any more.

Isn't it fascinating, the tricks the mind plays on us?

Do you think the cyst has anything to do with his visions?

Could I have some quiet, please?

Sorry.

-INTERCOM:

-'Trying your hand at neurosurgery, Mr Levy?'

Mr Self's registrar has been assigned to another patient.

-'Oh, I see.'

-Gentlemen, if you don't mind.

Changed your mind about him, then?

Hardly.

-You get your cast off?

-Yeah.

-Do us a favour, bud.

-Go on.

-Could you call the fella, tell him the meeting's off tonight?

-Yeah.

-Yeah, make it same venue, same time tomorrow night.

-Will do.

-All right?

-Yeah, sound.

-Oh, s'cuse, Doc.

-How's fatherhood treating you?

-All good so far.

-What can I do for you?

I meant to ask the obstetrician,

do you think the baby's a good size, given how early he's arrived?

-Yeah, I'd say so.

-Yeah?

I've seen a lot smaller at around 34 weeks.

-Right.

-Anything else?

No, that's great. Thank you.

How long am I in for?

They'll probably transfer you to maternity for about 24 hours.

And then, home?

-If the baby's OK.

-Right.

Mind if I put him over here while I change your dressing?

I'll take him.

Thanks.

I've been thinking, not so sure about Tom any more.

How come?

It's a bit old-fashioned, isn't it?

I like it.

Really?

Yeah, it's a proper name.

-Maybe we should go for something more...

-Modern?

Special.

How do you mean?

I don't know.

As long as you don't go for one of those silly, made-up names.

-Like Legend?

-Or a really hippy one, like Tree.

Or Nettle.

Just something that reminds the world...

..he's our little miracle.

I mean...

how many mothers give birth to an immaculate conception?

What?

According to your notes, this little thing is six weeks' premature,

-not two...

-No.

-..just like your mate told me.

-What mate?

Don't worry, I know she put you in an awkward position.

-What are you talking about?

-There was nothing else you could say.

-Right, I think...

-I just want to hear it from you.

Hear what?

This baby's not mine.

-Mr Brady...

-Just admit it.

Stop it.

Thing is, I was away for the whole of February this year,

so if you do the math, I wasn't around for the conception.

-Give the baby to me.

-How long have we been together?

Too long.

-I always thought I was a good judge of character.

-Mr Brady...

Maybe I was wrong.

I'm sorry.

You will be.

I think you should leave.

So, who's the lucky man?

-Not the personal trainer. That would be...

-If you don't go now...

-..too much of a cliche.

-..I will call security.

Or the loser next door, the one who's always sniffing round?

-Or was it just a random?

-I mean it.

All these years...

..and it ends like this.

Meeting's sorted.

-I want eyes on her 24/7.

-On who?

-My wife.

-What's up?

Just stay here.

Sean?

-Everything all right?

-Yeah.

-What's going on there?

-Nothing.

STEEL BOWL CLATTERS

Butter fingers.

THEATRE SOUNDS AMPLIFY

Mr Self?

'Mr Self?'

Guy...

-Guy?

-What?

Is everything all right?

-What exactly does he know?

-That it's not his baby.

-Did he say anything about me?

-No.

-So, he's got no idea?

-He doesn't know who the father is.

-So, where's he gone?

-I couldn't tell you.

-Nicole, please...

-I've got to get out of here!

-Stay put.

-Are you mental?

-Put the bag down.

-Don't you get it?

-Get what?

-I'm dead. WE'RE dead.

-You can't just take the baby.

-You're letting us out tomorrow anyway.

-We need to check you both out before...

-I don't care.

-You're safe in here.

-Nowhere is safe from him.

Let her go.

He'll be back soon.

I'll sort this out.

Just...don't tell him the truth.

All right?

BABY WHIMPERS

Thank you, Frank. Just give the old boy some rest.

Take these fluids to microbiology, crystology, please. Get them tested.

Why are you holding my patient's fluids?

-We've just done...

-A thoracentesis.

-..on Frank, saving you a job.

Thanks, but...

On that theme, why don't you let me take William for an hour tonight?

I'm very responsible. More so than others.

That's an utterly redundant statement.

I'm the surgical registrar, you are the F2.

OK, OK. What is this, some sort of rescue Mo pact?

No! I just think you look really tired.

-And now I look haggard to boot?

-Not haggard, no per se.

I think you look fantastic.

-I think that's a little insensitive of you, Dr March.

-Fluids?

No, what I was going to say was...

My eyes are too baggy to see where I'm taking them?

Just to clarify. What I was...

Hello?

Yes, sure. I'll let her know.

That was Ban Ki-Moon. He says any time you want a job.

This could screw everything.

-Will he kill her?

-If he finds out it's me.

-What about the baby?

It could compromise the entire operation.

Will you forget about your poxy job for a minute?

What's he going to do to her?

-Right, you need to get her out of here.

-With a premature child?

-Find her a private hospital for the night.

-What?

Well, then, you can get her into a safe house.

You've got it all planned out, haven't you?

-She's a witness, isn't she?

-These things have to be arranged.

-So arrange it.

-Doesn't work like that, Cara.

-OK, well, what's the alternative?

-We let it play out.

-I'm talking about two lives here...

-Three.

..and one of them is your son.

I know.

You'd put your own son at risk to make an arrest?

I'll make some calls, see what I can do.

-SLURS:

-Have to close the dura...

Guy?

'Mr Self.'

'Mr Self.'

I think you need to step away.

-Guy?

-Take your hands off me.

Now, please.

-No, I need to...

-What?

..close the dura...

-Mr Levy will page another neurosurgeon for you.

-No.

-You need to step away now, please.

-This is MY patient.

Guy, it's all right. It's all right.

That's it. That's it.

Just come with me, OK?

That's it, that's it, that's it.

Is he still hanging round?

I'll talk to him.

-Is it sorted?

-Yes.

Are you going to stay with her?

I need to be near Brady.

If he comes back, I'll tell him we tried to stop her,

but she discharged herself.

Good idea.

-Who's going to look after them?

-Me, if I can get away.

-You should be with her.

-I should be with you.

Not any more.

Why are you trying to force me into a family I don't want?

Because some good has to come of this whole mess.

THIS is my family...

..my life.

-Was.

-Is.

Put that away.

The only thing keeping me going is the thought that we might still...

Can I ask you a question?

Anything.

What was the plan for Nicole after you'd arrested Brady?

HE SIGHS

I don't know.

Were you just going to dump her and disappear?

I can hardly introduce her to the Chief Constable, can I?

So that's a yes?

If this gets out, my job's over.

You'd abandon the mother of your own child?

-Why do you make her out to be so innocent?

-Isn't she?

She knows what Brady is.

Isn't that why she's trying to get away from him?

She's been with him for years. Why did she stay with him?

Sometimes it can take a while to see what's right in front of your face.

If I make this right, if I get her away,

-is there a chance...

-You do this for your son, Jed.

Not for me.

-How is he?

-I just fed him again.

It'll be time for his first pooey nappy soon.

Looking forward to that one(!)

I'm going to get you out of here.

I promise.

Thanks.

-Raf.

-Yes?

Nicole Brady's keen to be transferred to a private hospital.

I don't know about that. It's a bit early, isn't it?

-She seems strong enough.

-What about the baby?

-He's doing great.

-Neonates want him monitored overnight.

Really?

Yeah, and maternity called to say there's a bed available.

They look well enough to be transferred to me.

Why are you so keen to get rid?

If the baby unit's full, why clog it up even further?

We'll make a ward manager of you yet.

-So, what do you reckon?

-Let's stick to plan A.

Yes, the test is clear, so that's good news.

Thank you, Dr March.

You two.

Excuse us.

I know you were only trying to help.

-We shouldn't have stuck our noses in.

-No.

Actually, your under eye area is looking particularly...

All right, don't push it, Valentine.

Oh, by the way, the creche called.

When they told William it was home time,

he said he wanted to spend some more time with his new BFF, so OJ's on me?

-Sounds good.

-Right, where are we with Frank?

-Well...

-Yeah.

-I suppose you enjoyed that?

-Not in the least, no.

Ritual humiliation in front of my team?

Ms Campbell, how was your lecture?

Tedious beyond words.

You'll have welcomed the opportunity to get away.

-What happened?

-Are you asking him or me?

It was a momentary hesitation, nothing more.

Any idea why?

I don't know, fatigue maybe.

Well, I have to say that throughout the day, your behaviour

has given me increasing cause for concern.

-What?

-How?

Well, you "postponed" your elective?

Exactly.

Do you think this might have anything to do with Mr Renwick?

Absolutely not.

-It was a hell of thing to go through.

-Yes, and we got through it.

May I ask if you've been attending your counselling sessions?

-Some of them.

-Guy.

-I can counsel myself.

-Don't give me that macho bull.

Look, in a couple of weeks, we'll have the Untoward Incident Review,

which will look at the Renwick shooting

and the circumstances that gave rise to it.

But we will now, of course, have to make the Committee aware

-of today's events.

-Oh, for goodness' sake!

So, in the meantime, I think a leave of absence is in order.

What?

-Do you honestly think you're fit to work?

-Yes, I do.

Well, with all due respect, I don't.

You need to take time off.

Are you going to let him railroad me?

I don't think that's what he's doing.

-OK, so that's that, is it?

-You can call it a sabbatical.

You can call it what you like.

-Ready?

-Yeah.

Got everything you need here.

Cara?

-What are you doing?

-Nicole wants to leave.

-Er, we had this conversation.

-I know, but...

-Isn't it up to me?

-No, not when there's a premature baby involved.

He's doing great.

We have to make sure that he's well enough to be transferred.

-But...

-I'll take you back to bed.

-I'll do it.

Could you wait in the office for me?

So he's found out the kid isn't his and she has to go.

He'll kill her, he'll kill the real dad...and the baby.

-I don't know what to say.

-You don't have to say anything.

I'm sorry.

Just help me.

Frank Thorpe's pleural fluid analysis results.

Ah, great, excellent.

Oh, ya beauty!

Got a signal at last.

It's just a mild chest infection.

-You what?

-No heart trouble, no cancer.

No whatever the other thing was?

Even the infection's not that serious.

We'll zap it with antibiotics and you should be home in a few days.

-What'll I do without you?

-You'll survive.

-Thanks.

You're very, very welcome.

-SKYPE RINGS

-Oh, hold on.

Daughter number one.

Hello, my lovelies.

-ALL:

-'Hello!'

And, before you ask, I'm fine, just as I said I would be.

I want you to meet Dr Effanga.

She's been...

amazing!

'Hello, Dr Effanga.'

And my new girlfriend, Dr March.

-'Hello, Dr March.'

-Hi, Frank's family.

Oh, they're absolute saints in this place, all of them.

(We'll leave you to it.)

Not so lonely after all.

'We love you. Miss you.'

What's been the hold-up?

The midwife wanted to check the baby.

-I had to examine Nicole before she left.

-All right.

What have you told him?

What does he know?

Enough to convince him to help.

Cara, you OK?

Yeah, yeah, I'm fine.

Nice to see your friend's keeping a look out for you.

Nice to see someone does.

-Cara, listen...

-Please, Jed, no more lies.

I love you.

-Take care of them.

-Cara.

Cara, please.

Please!

That's the least you can do.

I'll get the drinks in.

Hello, father of mine.

Hi.

You OK?

Yes, I'm fine.

Well, tomorrow's a new day, with no mistakes in it.

What do you mean?

Anne Of Green Gables. You used to read it to me, remember?

Yes.

Yes, I do.

I need these. Shots?

Two tequilas, please.

Are you sure this is a good idea?

Raf, whatever's going on with me and Jed, Nicole and the baby are safe.

-We did that.

-OK, let's do this.

So, a toast to our utterly bumbling tactlessness today.

And cheers to your complete sensitivity too.

I guess I need to be there for William now and you guys knew it.

Meant a lot. Cheers.