All language subtitles for Call The Midwife.S3e01.eng

Here we bloody go again.

Breathe your way through it,
Joan, breathe your way through it.

Breathe through it. That's
right, that's right, good girl.

Good girl.

That's right.

I saw a thousand dawns when
I was working in the East End.

A thousand fresh beginnings,

every day a world made new.

There were
challenges and changes

but always the sense
of life forging forward,

pulsing like the
River Thames itself.

I know it's been a long
night, but you're doing so well.

She ain't had nothing to
eat since dinner last night,

it's no wonder she's weak.

- I brought her an iced bun.
- I hate iced buns.

Not just now, Mrs
Wiggs. Maybe later.

Do you want it?

Actually, I'd love it.

Mmm.

Mmm.

I'm going to end up
with Sister Evangelina.

Oh, look, there he is! Oh.

Look at that! Feels
like home already.

I always say it's the
little things that count.

We had hoped for a red
carpet and a marching band.

"Where the bright
Seraphim in burning row,

"their loud up-lifted
angel trumpets blow,

"and the cherubic
host of thousand quires,

"touch their immortal
harps of golden wires."

Hello, Sister Monica
Joan. Are you settling in?

Those who went
before us in this place

have left a most vaporous trail.

It's the smell of wet
paint but she won't be told.

Thank you.

Keep going! Good
girl! Keep going!

Good.

Good things come to
those who wait, Joan.

I can see the baby's head.

- I'm scared!
- You listen to the nurse, love.

She's done this a
hundred times, haven't you?

Absolutely.

A little boy, Joan,

and he's beautiful.

Oh, Joan.

In textbooks there are
no lessons in digging deep,

in finding one last hour of
strength to see you through,

but in Poplar I learned
all of this and more.

Wasn't that all worth it?

I could sleep forever

and I don't care if I
never sleep again.

Mmm.

Hello, Merle.

Sounds like someone
wants his elevenses.

Someone wants his elevenses
morning, noon and night,

and if I ain't feeding him,
I'm changing his drawers.

It can take a while for a
baby to get into a new routine.

Was your other little boy
unsettled as a newborn?

Ian? Not half!

It's like I can't do
anything right sometimes.

Does Martin look
all right to you?

I can't see anything amiss.

Why don't you pop
into our Tuesday clinic?

We can always give him the
once-over, if you're worried.

I never know where they are, since
they knocked the Parish Hall down.

I'm sorry. We're still on the
hunt for a permanent venue,

but we're at the Seaman's
Mission next week. Do come.

I'll try.

If His Nibs is less unsettled.

Now, I've done exactly
what the book says

and rolled the pastry
into a rectangle.

Rectangle.

Next, I just dot the pastry

with the previously prepared
paste of butter and lard, thus.

Now, I then fold
the pastry over,

like so,

and then repeat
the action four times,

whilst the pie filling
simmers on a low light.

And one single titter from you,
young sir, and I'll take you to the mirror

and show you what a
naughty monkey looks like.

Knock, knock!

Guess what? They've
put us in together.

We can shimmy to the Dansette
every night, like Pinky and Perky.

Well, where's Cynthia?

Well, they put her in
the box room at the end.

We tossed a coin.

You don't mind, do you?

I've never heard
anyone say that I snore.

Trixie, I could sleep in the funnel
of the Queen Mary right now.

Milk Tray?

They were a gift from the
bunion lady in Colette Street.

I've eaten the Turkish delight.

I'll have the lime barrel
and the almond whirl.

I'll ruin my lunch
but I don't care.

If I were you,

I'd eat the chocolates
and just sneak 40 winks.

Mmm. Why?

Chummy's bringing it.

Oh!

Bally, bally botheration!

Oh, something smells nice!

- It isn't for you.
- What was it?

Individual chicken and
mushroom pies with flaky pastry.

And don't even ask about
the coconut blancmange!

Camilla, you try too hard.

Look after the baby.

What?

There's a Tupperware full of
stewed pears if he's hungry,

and if he starts turning his head
to the left, that means he's tired.

Bye-bye, Mummy.

Can I have some of the pears?

I found the enema nozzles
and the rubber tubes.

The labouring women
of Poplar will be thrilled.

I can't believe how
much space we have.

I feel like demanding rollerskates to
get me from one cupboard to another.

No point in a clinical room
the size of County Hall

if the autoclave doesn't work.

It's been on for 10 minutes and
it's about as hot as the North Pole!

Sorry, Sister, but we've
lost a few spirit lamps.

Put them in the dustbin.

I shall have to go
back to the post office

to see why the telephone
hasn't been connected.

Is everything all right,
Sister Monica Joan?

I ventured through a door

and uncovered something
that disturbed me.

What, Sister?

It disturbs you, too.

I surmise its
purpose is a dark one.

It's a urinal. You must
try not to let it upset you.

The building used to be a
training school for parish workers

but Fred's going
to strip all that out,

so that we can use
it as a store room.

I think it is the source
of the vapours I detected.

Come to the cookhouse door,
ladies! Luncheon is served.

Home-cooked food!
What could be better?

My dear Sister Winifred. I am
so glad you have come to us.

You cannot begin to
imagine how welcome you are.

Now, not too heavy with
the tomato sauce, it's very...

Everyone!

This is Sister Winifred, who
has come to live and work with us.

- Hello, Sister Winifred.
- Hello!

I'm delighted to be here.

She joins Nonnatus from the
motherhouse at Chichester.

What a perfectly
frightful journey.

This is Nurse Franklin,
Nurse Miller and Mrs Noakes,

who used to nurse with us but has
moved on to the calling of marriage.

- Oh, that's nice.
- And this is Sister Monica Joan.

Now, come and sit
next to Sister Evangelina.

Hello.

We've met. It was on my summer holidays,
they had nits in the village school.

That was a very trying week.

Were you a head
inspector, Sister?

Head inspector. Nit nurse.

The children used to call me
Nitty Nora the Scalp Explorer,

but I suppose
that's just because

there's not many things
that rhyme with Winifred.

Now, haddock,
plaice, or saveloy?

I'm frightfully sorry. The
saveloy was not intentional.

I'll have whatever
no one else wants.

Correct answer.

Thank you.

Enter.

The patient files are
completely reorganised.

It's time for the
finishing touches.

There was no sun in your old surgery.
Any plant would have withered and died.

You know, there is a permanent
position for you, if you'd like it.

A receptionist and all-round
saviour of my sanity.

Timmy needs me at
home and so do you.

I love helping out but it's
part-time and temporary.

What on earth is
that supposed to say?

"Erythromycin suspension."

I'm going to set you
handwriting exercises.

Oh.

Whoops! Timber.

You'll get the hang of it.

What's she doing?

I have absolutely no idea.

Oh, I'm glad to see you
expanding your skills,

for I require bookshelves.

They need to be
erected in my room.

Where did you get that wood?

They're revising their display
arrangements at the pet shop.

Sister, you might
have injured yourself.

My books have been
in boxes for far too long.

If they are not set straight,

their contents will jumble
and become deranged.

- Hi, Nurse Lee!
- Hello.

Well done.

Goodness...

I certainly feel as though
I've earned my spurs.

We only cycled half a mile,
and that was just the warm-up.

We'll call in on
Joan Rickart first.

She lives at number 9.

What's that smell?

It's the communal lavatory.

Is it broken?

No, it's just busy.

Wait a moment.

Hello, little boy.

You shouldn't be out here.
Where's your mummy?

I know this family.

I saw the mother
just this morning.

Come on, let's get you inside.

Yes.

I can't keep on top
of things. I can't.

I'm never done boiling
water for the washing,

I'm spending half my family
allowance on Stergene.

My hands are splitting open
from forever wringing nappies.

Is he all right?

Well, he's on the dainty side.

Maybe more of a
jockey than a docker.

Are you still giving
him the breast?

Yeah, but I top him up with a
bottle 'cause he's always hungry.

Sorry. I know that's
not really allowed.

I've never met a baby yet
who's read the rule book.

I'll add you to our
daily list, Merle.

We'll call in each morning and
help you get things on an even keel.

I've just looked up
Martin's birth weight.

He's four weeks old. He's
only gained half a pound.

Topping up indeed.

Breast is best, every four hours and no
arguments, but the mothers won't listen.

Afternoon, ladies. Settling in?

It's already starting
to feel like home.

Except the phone doesn't work,

so people keep dropping
in to visit unannounced.

Well, phones or no phones, I
wanted to tell you face-to-face.

We have found a permanent
site for your antenatal clinic.

At last.

At the Council Community
Centre in Argent Street.

Now, the best news of all is we can
have it for two afternoons a week, not one.

Can clinic still
be on a Tuesday?

That's what I want to know.
It's always been on a Tuesday

and I don't want the mothers
messed about any further.

Tuesday, absolutely. And
Thursdays, too, without extra charge.

Oh, this is the best
chance we've ever had

of delivering not just health
care but health education.

Well, we could give classes
in mother craft, nutrition,

cookery, exercise...
The list is limitless!

I bet it is.

I actually think it might
be rather marvellous.

Tuesdays are just a relentless round of
weighing, measuring and boiling urine.

We never have any time
for teaching other skills.

We need to give classes
in nutrition, for a start.

People think orange
jelly's full of vitamins.

Yes, and don't you
think it might be fun

to do things like music and
movement with the toddlers?

Fun? We're givers of health
care, not children's entertainers!

Sister Monica Joan, why don't
you sit down and eat with us?

Oh, I have not time to while
away an hour in idleness.

I am making an
inventory of my books.

Very strenuous, I'm sure.

Why don't you take the whole
plate, keep your strength up?

There's some nice Red
Leicester in your sandwich

and I've popped in
a couple of radishes.

Oh, you haven't cut them into
novelty shapes again, have you?

Only I got joshed by
the others last time.

Well, the least one can
do is try and raise a smile.

Midnight lunch
is a dismal affair.

I remember it well from
when I was on night shifts.

Thermos.

You take care tonight.

I've got quite enough to
keep me out of mischief.

I'm on the final furlong
with those scatter cushions.

Hello, Nonnatus House.

I never thought I'd be so
thrilled to hear the telephone ring.

Hello?

I'm just about to go on my rounds
but I had to test the Nonnatus phone.

The wretched thing
still isn't working.

Do you want to hear
something that will cheer you up?

Yes, if you tell me quickly.

We've been courting for
precisely six months today.

I feel rather inclined to tie a
bunch of balloons to this phone box.

I'm on duty, Alec.

Say that again, but
a bit more primly.

What do you think?

It'll do.

Something's not right, Nurse.

One minute he's running
around full of beans,

the next he's coughing
till he nearly chokes.

He doesn't seem feverish but
we need to rule out infection.

I want the doctor to see both boys,
and as you've been bottle feeding,

I'd also like to check that
everything's been properly sterilised.

Are you saying I can't
clean things properly?

I'm never done boiling
and soaking stuff in Milton!

I don't doubt that for a moment.

But Merle, when you've no choice
but to wash bottles and nappies

in the same sink, there's always a
chance contamination may occur.

They're never well!
Neither of them.

Ian's always had a chest and I
used to think, "He's just a winter baby."

But Martin came in the spring
and if anything, he's worse.

His nappies are a nightmare.

There's so many
even Billy has to help.

Don't tell 'em
down the dockyard.

Nurse...

Billy?

When will the doctor come?

Would it be quicker if I took
the nipper to the surgery?

I'll ask Doctor to put you
on his rounds tomorrow.

It isn't an emergency,
just a puzzle.

I had a brother pass
away when I was little.

He was four. And a quarter.

My mum never likes it if
we leave the quarter off.

I'm sorry.

I sometimes reckon if he'd
lived now, he wouldn't have died.

Times change for
the better, don't they?

Yes. They do.

No sign of the GPO engineers.

I keep pacing up and
down by the telephone,

in case they might ring
to say they're on their way.

Which of course they
won't, because they can't.

Of course if they could, and they
did, they wouldn't actually need to.

A statement almost
Aristotelian in its logic.

It was lovely to see you.

Shelagh, these are
really the only ladies left?

Yes. There are 21 women
who haven't appeared

and nine of those have
previous missed appointments.

My word! This is all rather palatial,
compared to the old Parish Hall.

Am I too late to pick up some
vitamin drops for young sir?

No, you can have vitamin
drops, a full weigh-and-measure,

an assessment for milk tokens
and an eye test, if you like.

There's no queue and you're
guaranteed personal attention.

I really am a tail-end
Charlie, aren't I?

I was at church, sorting out
some mildew on the kneelers.

Hardly anybody came, Chummy.

The trouble is I'm not sure people
know where the community centre is

or what it's for.

People are used to
parish halls and missions.

If something doesn't have
a saint's name in front of it,

I think they're a
little suspicious.

But at least you're
of fixed abode now.

Time for a leafleting
campaign, methinks.

Chummy, I wish we had the time!

Well, if you haven't, I have.

Oceans of it. Acres.

I'm knee-deep in time
and you can have it all.

Sister? I wondered if I might talk
to you about Sister Monica Joan?

If she approaches you
with cake in your first week,

pick up your skirts and run.

It's all a ruse designed
to embarrass the unwary.

It's nothing to do
with cake, Sister.

Oh!

She may be my sister
in Christ but I swear,

she would drive a
Methodist to drink!

I am placing the biography of
Astley Cooper, master surgeon,

next to the memoirs of Rousseau,

since I deem it likely
they conversed in life.

The Dewey Decimal system
is altogether too earthbound,

and likely to speak
loudest to pedantic minds.

You have been cutting
pages out of Bibles!

I have excised certain
chapters of the Apocrypha.

The act cannot be heretical.
The Apocrypha is heretical itself.

Urine sample. Now, please.

In case you've forgotten where the
bathroom is, it's just across the way.

You think my mind is fractured
and the cause lies in my bladder.

You are no better than Plato,

who believed a woman's
womb would roam her body,

provoking psychological disease.

I have put Plato
here, next to Mr Freud,

so they can be companions
in their ignorance.

Sister. You've been martyr
to your waterworks all winter.

And you know as well as I do

that the slightest infection
can bring you right down.

But I am not brought
down now! I am well!

And filled with purpose.

I can see that.

I've never been a reader.
I've always been a doer.

Books passed me
by when I was young.

Oh, books have been my friends!

I do not intend to forget
what they have taught me.

Sister, I cannot deny that my
memory is sometimes in need of...

refreshment.

But once a thing is known,

it can never be unknown.

Can it?

No, Sister.

And you be careful
with this edifice.

Don't want it
falling on your foot.

Come on, girls.

Three chest infections
in six months is too many.

It's been more than that.

But sometimes not so bad. We
thought we ought not to bother you.

Always bother me.

I'm going to give Ian penicillin
and call in again in three days' time.

Nurse, I want some stool samples
from Martin as soon as he wakes up.

Then he is to have formula
milk only, on prescription.

He's to be weighed daily.

Will that tell us what's wrong?

It may tell us nothing is wrong.

If this is nothing, then
I'm just a lousy mother.

It means I can't feed him. It
means I can't keep him clean.

It means I'll never go an
hour without him screaming!

Merle, no one
is criticising you.

But we need to see if Martin's
actually getting enough food.

That way we can tackle his upset
tummy and try and help him put on weight.

You believe he's ill, don't you?

I believe we'll find out,
one way or another.

It's a wonderfully
enterprising idea, Mrs Noakes.

But it will be quite a
challenge to organise.

But all you have to do is
run the clinic as normal,

and then the displays by the Cubs,
the sewing club, the flower arrangers

and the Girls' Brigade will take place
around you as the afternoon goes on.

Just reading this
leaflet is an education.

I wasn't aware that half
these societies existed.

Well, some of
them are quite new.

I've only just set them up.

- May I keep this?
- Actually, it's the only copy.

I was just on my way to the
library, to get it copied on the Roneo.

I think interest
may be rather brisk.

- Hello! Would you like one?
- Thank you.

Good afternoon. Can I
give you one of these?

Ta, thanks.

Gosh! Looks like hard work.
Can I give you one of these?

No thanks, dear.

Shall we go and eat some more?

- Yeah.
- All right.

Ah, now, Mrs Torpy,
this should interest you,

particularly as a
newcomer to Poplar.

There are all sorts of
clubs and classes for you,

well, and indeed for Sheryl.

You might like Girls' Brigade. It's
a uniformed Christian organisation.

Better than putting that
muck all over her face.

I'm practising for
when I get a job.

A job down Cable
Street, looking like that.

Now, most importantly, the antenatal
clinic would be right up your street.

You can have all
your routine tests there

and a reassuring chat
with a midwife every week.

God love you, but this is my
fourth, so when the time comes,

I'm just going to ring
for the ambulance.

Do yous do bingo?

Oh, bingo? Well,
never say never.

Well, if yous do bingo,
I'll be there every day.

Nobody's interested.

And I had visions of mounted policemen
trying to control the surging crowds.

Mounted policemen
are already booked.

I had to stay
late for a briefing.

The Docks and Harbour
offices are getting a royal visit.

Oh, but that's
absolutely thrilling.

Is it the Queen?

No. The next best thing, though.

Her Royal Highness
the Princess Margaret.

Oh, but I haven't seen
her since Pa was knighted.

Oh, I absolutely must join
the throng, to cheer her on.

It'll be quite a small throng. It's just
a trade and industry engagement.

But that will bore her to tears!

And people would
want to see her.

Princess Margaret is like royalty
and a film star rolled into one.

I suppose. The Docks and
Harbour visit was her only invitation.

I find that hard to credit.

When's she coming?

Week on Tuesday.

Oh, do you know,

that's really quite fortuitous.

It's been a week since
Ian started penicillin.

But his phlegm's so thick
he can't seem to cough it up.

He needs to be in
hospital. They both do.

They need proper looking
after and I can't do it.

I'll speak to Doctor,

but you must trust him. He deals
with this sort of thing every day.

Begging your pardon, Nurse,

so do we.

Every test I've run
has come back clear.

I'll refer both Ian and Martin

to the paediatric specialist
at the London but...

What do you think's
the matter, Doctor?

I wish I knew.

How do you find Mrs
Vickers' state of mind?

Uh, she's weepy,

exhausted, scarcely
leaves the flat.

I've noticed she's started
to let her appearance go.

Women can develop depression
up to a year after the birth of a child.

That may explain why
she's struggling to cope.

There is one other thing.

Billy, the children's father, had a
brother who died at the age of four.

Some sort of chest complaint.

Do you think that might be
making them even more anxious?

Yes, I do. Absolutely I do.

But that doesn't mean
those children aren't unwell.

No. I know that.

Oh, look at that.

It's the thickest and smoothest
writing paper I've ever seen.

It's always like that.

Even when it's only the
lady-in-waiting who writes.

But Chummy, they said yes!

I think it's tremendous.

Shh! You know perfectly well
you're not supposed to be here!

Yes, and if the nuns
wake up and come down,

we'll have to lock
you in the larder.

And you'll never get
your fried egg sandwich.

Well, we only let you in because
you bring your own Tabasco.

Come and sit down, Chummy.

I've got to get back to the baby.
Peter starts his night shift soon.

Oh, just for five minutes.

You look exhausted.

I've had wings on my heels all day
and now I'm coming down to earth.

I've had to go to the
police, the council,

ring the lady-in-waiting
three times

and write a letter
to Sister Julienne.

Oh, which I need you to put
on her desk in the morning.

Gosh! What else
have you had to do?

Amongst other things, nobble some
needlewomen for my sewing club

and buy a book on flower arranging so
I could teach a flower-arranging class.

I told the lady-in-waiting
they both exist already.

Well, I can teach
flower arranging.

My godmother bought me
lessons from Constance Spry.

What about the Cubs? They
aren't a figment of your imagination.

They're going to celebrate the
maritime connections to the East End

by reenacting the
story of Grace Darling.

Jack Smith's going
to play the lighthouse.

Well, I think that
sounds absolutely lovely.

As will the Girls' Brigade band, as
they play a fanfare for the Princess.

But Chummy, the Girls'
Brigade band is terrible.

I should know. I have to
listen to them every week.

But I've promised the
lady-in-waiting. Mea culpa.

Well, I played the
bugle in the RAF cadets.

I could come knock
them into shape.

Would you, really?

I'd give anything for a close-up
view of Princess Margaret.

Hello, everyone. This is Sheryl. She's
come to help us out with our fanfare.

Ah, excellent! I hope you've
got a good strong pair of lungs.

I've got a cold sore.

I'll get you a drum.

I was listening to the
wireless. Rain is forecast.

Come on, you.
You've done enough.

I hope so.

Baby Martin has desperate
trouble with digestion.

Ian has a cough
and terrible diarrhoea.

They're both worryingly small.

It was the first thing I
noticed when I saw them.

I'm very much afraid it
sounds like a failure to thrive.

Failure to thrive isn't
a diagnosis, Sister!

They've used that term
since Victorian times.

Has an infection been ruled out?

Stool samples were tested and
swabs taken, but they came back clear,

Dr Turner's tried everything.

It is the way their
humours are aligned.

I have a volume detailing
just the illness you describe.

It dates from when Queen
Anne was on the throne.

Really, Sister?

Yes, it says children such as
these will not survive five years.

And when their brow is
kissed, they taste of salt.

It is upstairs, wrapped
in chamois leather,

for its vibrations must be
shielded from refracted light.

We must tidy away.
It's time for high tea.

You say that as though high
tea will entice me to silence.

I have a repository of
knowledge to maintain.

You may leave a plate of
Marie biscuits by my door.

How are they?

Asleep.

I almost wish they'd wake,

'cause when they sleep, I think.

And when I think, I worry
that I'm not in my right mind.

Shh.

They take people away when
they're not in their right mind.

And what would happen then?

It's time for Compline.

Sister Monica Joan?

What's that you're sewing?

It's a baby's night dress.

Do you mean...

I've no news yet.

But I've so much hope.

Every night I put a
handful of stitches into this.

Tiny cross-stitches,
like kisses.

I suppose it's a prayer. A
little present for the future.

Sister Monica Joan!
Come in out of the rain!

I have no need of shelter.

But you, you, Dr Turner, if
you wish to solve a mystery,

you must read this book.

I will. When I've
taken you home.

Sister Monica Joan, where have
you been? You weren't at Compline.

She needs a warm drink, and
tuck her up with a hot water bottle.

Hark, Sister! He is a
physician and a man

and expects to be listened to.

If only he had ears
for the words of others

or eyes to read their books.

Peter. It's today.

You're going to have to put those
books away and get your jacket on,

or we'll be late.

One of these is shinier than the other.
Did you get distracted halfway through?

Yes, I did.

Oh, good Lord.

It's a good job I'm out of your vision,
young sir. Because I'm sorry to say

I look exactly like my mother.

That's my girl. Come
out and see the Princess.

The fresh air will
do us good. Won't it?

Billy. Something's happening!

- I'll call an ambulance.
- There's no time.

I'm worried we'll be late.

The mother whose baby I'm bathing
is going to meet me there at ten to.

Sister Monica Joan won't
come out of her room.

She can probably smell
all that lacquer on your hair.

I'd watch yourself when
you light the spirit lamp.

I feel sorry for Princess Margaret.
Imagine having to look enthralled

by someone boiling urine.

Help! Help!

Help me.

He's fitting!

Thermometer. And mucus
extractor. He can barely breathe.

Mother started running here
as soon as the twitching started

so that's just
under four minutes.

I've cleared his throat
and he's stopped fitting.

I brought the car. The road's
been closed for the royal visit,

might delay the ambulance.

Temperature's 102, Doctor.

I think I have a diagnosis.

Might I see the child?

Yes.

I will do nothing untoward.

I know you won't.

Salt, like the sea.

There was no name for it, even
then, though they knew its meaning.

There is a name for it now.
It's called cystic fibrosis.

It's hereditary, which might explain
the death of Billy Vickers' brother.

Can it be cured, Doctor?

It can be treated.

We don't want finger marks.

Rogue sultana.

All right, lads. It was a
dark and stormy night...

Ooh!

And the waves were
crashing against the rocks.

Crash! Crash!

Inside the lighthouse,

Grace Darling turns to
her father and she says...

"Oh, Father, what
terrible weather."

Grace Darling is a girl!

You're supposed to do it
in a girl's voice. Like this.

"Oh, Father, what terrible
weather!" We'll start again.

Nurse Franklin
should be doing this!

Her Royal Highness will be
here in less than 15 minutes

and not one member of staff
from Nonnatus House is here!

Well, I hope when they do come,
one of them's got Rennies in her bag.

Band ready!

- Oh, no!
- Stop girls! Stop girls!

Sorry!

I'm sorry.

What for?

If it runs in families, then
I've passed it on to 'em.

And so did I.

You heard the
doctors, it takes two.

This is what runs
in families, Billy.

This.

Everything else, all the things that
are wrong or missing, they're just...

Enzymes.

That's the word.

And the doctors say they
can give 'em artificial ones.

This no one can make.

No one can take away.

I say! Excuse me,
may I be of help?

We rung for the ambulance,
and it hasn't come.

Bleeding Princess Margaret. My husband
probably built that road she's blocking.

I'm a nurse and a midwife. I'm
quite happy to sit with Mrs Torpy

until the ambulance arrives.

No. There's kids all over the
place. I don't want the racket of them.

There you are.

I hope you're not attached to this
settee. My waters haven't gone yet.

Well, what's a loose cover
when a baby's on its way?

Oh, well, chuck us a
tea towel or something.

Here you are.

That's it. That's it.

You show that bally
pain who's boss!

Did I make a cow noise? If I did, it
means I'm getting to the sharp end.

Mrs Torpy, I think we
should both remove our hats.

Sheryl. I want you to run
straight to Nonnatus House.

Tell them a midwife is
required at this address.

"Please" would be nice.

Bravo. Bravo.

That's it.

Full marks! I can
see baby's head.

You sure?

It's the least mistakable sight in
the world. And the most miraculous.

Now, then, old thing.
Baby isn't quite with us yet.

So with the next pain, we're going
to try and slow things down a bit.

A little less Gay Gordons,
slightly more Valeta.

Small pushes, now. Small pushes.

Righty-ho. Baby's with
us as far as his chin.

Now I just want one
more bally enormous push

and we'll all be
done and dusted.

Jesus, Mary and
Joseph, is it not out yet?

I'm afraid not.

Seems we've got a bit of a
shrinking violet on our hands.

Ah, good God, would you
just tell it to me straight?

I can't help you if I don't
know what you're on about.

It seems that baby's
shoulders are stuck.

If we work together,
we can free them.

Just, just tell me what to do.

I want you on the
floor, on all fours.

Yes?

That's it.

Oh, Jesus.

Now, when you push, I'm going
to see if I can help him on his way.

Keep it coming, keep it
coming, keep it coming, that's it.

It's not bloody budging, is it?

No.

Can you get onto
your left-hand side?

Slowly, that's it.

Now, I need you to push
absolutely with all of your strength.

With the next pain?

No, I need you to push now.

Come on, little soldier. Come
on. Play the game! Play the game!

Little thing, come on.

Oh, it's all over.

And everything's just begun.

Talk about a day's work.

Yes.

Midwives! Open up!

Chummy? Are you all right?

Never better.

You accomplished a very great
deal yesterday, Mrs Noakes.

It certainly was a
rather unusual afternoon.

It wasn't just the
thrill of the royal visit.

You coped with an extremely
difficult delivery alone.

You looked after Mrs
Torpy wonderfully.

I'm so glad. Because I
believe midwifery matters.

And caring for women matters.

It just so happens

they're the only things I've ever
been the smallest shred of use at.

You're also a good wife
and an excellent mother.

Those are gifts, too.

And I'm grateful.

I just worry that if Peter and the
baby are the only things I have to love,

I'll end up crushing them to death
with the weight of my devotion.

I put novelty
vegetables in lunchboxes

and sit up all night
running up soft furnishings.

I do too much and it's...
Well, it's never enough.

Do you want to come
back to Nonnatus House?

Oh, would you have
me back, Sister?

We're always short-staffed.
We're short of funds, too.

I could find a position for
you two days each week

if you could find
suitable care for Freddie,

and if your husband
were agreeable.

Peter's always agreeable.
He's not like other men.

But I suppose I'm not
like other women, really.

No. You're a nurse
and a midwife.

Cystic Fibrosis
was, and remains,

a serious, lifelong condition.

Ian and Martin Vickers were
among the first to know its name

and to stand and fight it with
their families by their sides.

Knowledge is a seed that
can take centuries to blossom.

Understanding has grown and
the children's chances with it.

Lessons unfold everywhere.

And sometimes a glance
in the mirror is enough.

Good luck, Chummy.

Nonnatus House,
midwife speaking.

We need a figurehead

and it feels right it
should be one of you.

It's going to be a
tight ship from now on.

It weren't no love story, Nurse.

My husband can't
ever see this baby.

Knowledge is power, ladies.

Will someone tell
that man to pipe down?

The East End fascinates me.

It seems to exist in a
world outside of itself.

I think that it's
called "poverty".

My mum said having me was
no more trouble than sneezing.

Not the forceps. Please,
Nurse, promise me.

All I care about is you.

- It's maddening.
- Do stop talking.