All language subtitles for Call_The_Midwife_S04E00.Christmas Special.eng

Christmas comes at
the closing of the year.

It is a time for reaching
out, looking back,

finding comfort in the magic
of a season that endures.

It is when we take stock,

when we measure joy and pain.

It is when we say this is who we
are, what we have now become,

and when we acknowledge
what we cherish most of all.

Philip?

I can't find it anywhere!

Are they in the box
with the tree lights?

I would never put it in there!

Why would I?

It's a china ornament!

It doesn't go on the tree,
it goes on the mantelpiece!

Er, perhaps the
holly will be enough.

It's even got some
berries on it this year.

Anyway, I'll soon get
you a nice blaze going.

I don't know -I'm not sure
if I'm a fool, or a romantic

or a creature of routine.

Last two.

Once a nurse, always a nurse.

We were so young.

Well, Sister Monica Joan must
have been 80-odd, even then.

I think the word I'm
looking for is "innocent".

Oh, we knew things,
I'd seen things,

things I'd never seen
before and never since, but...

we had a way at looking
the future in the eye.

Not frightened at all,
only the young do that.

I wish I could
find that ornament.

A Christmas card seems
such a frail sort of missive.

A scrap of coloured
paper folded to enclose

a scant few words of greeting

and if love is meant and not
just included for the sake of form,

a little line of
kisses, neat and faint

as the prints of birds on snow.

A card from Jenny.

Lovely!

Keep on going round!

And round again, skipping as high as
you can because we need to make sure

those headdresses stay on
during the actual performance.

Higher than that, please,
Maxine! I can't see where I'm going!

Well, keep on following Beverley.
Beverley, you're doing splendidly!

Keep going.

Oh!

Right, that's enough.
That's enough.

Will all snowflakes please STOP
dancing and stay where you are

until Nurse Franklin has had
a look at your headdresses

and considered the case for a
few more curvy grips, perhaps?

I strongly suspect there aren't
enough curvy grips in the world.

How are you getting
along with the snow?

- We've cut up enough for a small blizzard.
- Afternoon!

Oh, Fred! You've come
about your costume.

No.

I've come about the leaky tap.

Nurse Franklin, I can't
believe you just did that.

What?

Referred to my costume when
all the kiddies could hear you!

I didn't say what
the costume was.

Well, they know I'm
not in the concert!

They know I'm not in the
Ballet of the Snowflakes

or the Donkey's Tap Dance.

Do you want a crimson
velvet Santa suit,

or a corduroy one
that's a bit more scarlet?

You're cutting it a bit fine!

I thought this was a fitting, not
me being measured up from scratch.

Fred, why are you
making such a fuss?

Everybody knows you're
not the real Father Christmas.

- You're just helping him out!
- Exactly!

I don't want to see any disappointed
faces when I come in with my sack.

Helping out the big fella from the
North Pole is a sacred undertaking.

To me, if not to you.

SISTER MONICA
JOAN: O Attic shape!

Fair attitude!

With brede of marble men
and maidens overwrought

With forest branches
and the trodden weed...

Is that Keats,
Sister Monica Joan?

There is no end
to your perspicacity

since you commenced
walking out with a clergyman.

I did not think your mind
could keep abreast of his,

but I was wrong.

I was just thinking what a good
thing it was, that the crib was in its box

when the bomb went off,

but one of the figurines
must have been broken.

Oh, no.

Run it under the tap, quickly.

Oh! It is the sheep.

And it is shattered.

When will Herr Hitler
cease his sport with us?

That's Mona Woollnet done and
dusted. Little boy, name of Noel.

That's rather jolly.

We get Noels every year.
Noels, Robins, Hollies, Carols.

You can set your watch by them.

Why isn't the autoclave on?
Look at all these instruments!

Nurse Miller, I
want this rectified.

Sister, I'm sorry, I'm expected in
Sister Julienne's office in a moment.

Course you are. Off you pop.

- Thank you, Sister.
- Autoclave!

After which, you
can adjust your list

because I'm breaking into
this bottle of Milk of Magnesia.

Of course. Patients will press
snacks on you this time of year.

I gave in to a piece of sherry
log, keeps repeating on me.

Mmm...

And Io!

A star was seen in the east,

and the donkey ears
were found behind the bar.

- Where's Freddie?
- I put him down for a nap.

- His cough's been rotten.
- Poor little soldier!

I can smell the ale
on them from here.

Tom Hereward confessed to a bit
of larking about at the youth club.

He left the keys to
the bar unattended.

He could be arrested for that.

"Failure to ensure the safety of
minors at a place of entertainment."

You do work so awfully hard.

I don't want to fail my
sergeant's exams again.

Peter, you say that as if
you've failed them annually

since time immemorial!
It's only been twice.

- Twice so far.
- You could get arrested for that.

Offence against the
Optimism Act, 1959.

Chapter 1, clause 1. "Failure to
demonstrate a backbone under fire."

Nurse Miller, I know how deeply
you've been considering this matter,

and I know how much you've
been questioning your heart

and how hard
you've been praying.

How could I not, when once
I asked the same questions

and prayed the same prayers?

I thought I'd be certain
by now. It's been months.

Sometimes it takes years.

That's why we speak
of testing our vocation,

beginning with six
months as a postulant.

I know that.

I just... I don't know why I'm
feeling this call. This longing.

Cynthia, you may take as
long as you need to discern

what God wills for you.

But there will be
several other postulants

joining the order at the New
Year, and there is a place for you

beside them, if you
wish to take it up.

I see.

If you're not ready, there
will be other possibilities.

In another 12 months,
or possibly two years.

Sister Julienne.

Will you pray for me?

Always.

Go on, let me see
how big yours are now.

- Happy Christmas, Nurse.
- Liqueur chocolates! How decadent.

And a urine sample.

You are kind.

Shelagh, she's put
on another pound.

She's doing so well.

I feel like the
luckiest woman alive.

Ah, all my prayers
were answered.

Just not in the way I expected.

A little bird tells me
that a certain young lady

has come for her vaccinations!

And she can come right
to the front of the queue.

Patrick, she'll catch
her death of cold.

He's years older than
her. Gives me the creeps.

Handkerchief, Denise.

I've forgotten it.

You think at 16
they're all grown up.

They'll start thinking
for themselves.

Using their common sense.

You stop asking if they've
remembered their hanky.

I haven't got mine either.
You'll have to do without.

Here you are.

Wipe your eyes and have
a good blow, old thing.

Now, it's not often we're
able to refer our mothers-to-be

to Astor Lodge, but by all
accounts it's absolutely splendid.

They only take
12 girls at a time,

and the matron there runs it
as a proper home from home.

How long will she have
it with her for? The child?

The general rule is that the little
ones are cared for by their mothers

until the first stage of
adoption goes through.

That's usually accomplished
within six weeks.

I'm leaving mine
at the hospital.

I told the social worker
- I don't want to see it,

I don't want to touch it. I'm
handing it over and that's that.

And where's your mother?

Yes, that's in your notes.

Nurse Mount will accompany
you on the bus, and then hand over

all your paperwork to Sister
Maltby when you arrive.

I hope there's not a long
walk at the other end.

I've got a Dansette to
carry as well as a suitcase.

You'd think you were
on your way to Butlins.

Butlins?

I don't think so.

I'm more of a St Moritz girl, me,
that's why I'm wearing my mink hat.

That's never mink.

Chocks away, I think!

Let's not smoke
in the street, Avril.

I'd finished it, in any case.

Are we slipping out the side
way? I think it's for the best.

She's never been
away from home before.

I'm still hoping nobody'll
find out where she's gone.

When Denise comes back,
she can make a fresh start.

And from experience, no-one
will ask any difficult questions.

At least she won't make the
same mistake again... will she?

I'm sure she won't.

Come get your Christmas tree!

Right, come get your
Christmas tree! Freshly cut...

What are you doing here, Sister?

You deem me incognisant
of your purpose,

but I fear that were I to let you
perform your task unsupervised,

Nonnatus would receive
a very sorry tree indeed.

But Sister Monica Joan, Sister
Julienne, she's put her foot down.

"Nothing too
ostentatious," she said.

There is no ostentation
in appropriate proportion,

only in vulgar ornaments
and excess trim.

Look after the lady and
gentleman, please, Victor.

I require a tree.

It should be neither too
slender nor too squat,

of equal symmetry

and smell pleasingly of pine.

These all smell of
pine. They are pine.

Apart from the spruces.

Then you may exhibit them
to myself and my assistant.

Now, she can have
any tree she wants.

You helped deliver my
daughter Ingrid, Sister.

Boiling-hot weather,
two doodle-bug raids.

'Ere, my missus
still laughs about

how you had to fan
her with her ration book.

Check the ticket when she's
picks one, then halve the price.

Are these obtained from
Germany or from Norway?

I don't know, madam.
I'm only casual labour.

I would very much prefer a
tree that sprang from Allied soil.

I'm sorry about my mum.
I think your hat's lovely.

I'm particular
about what I wear.

I worked in a dress shop up
Roman Road before I started showing.

- It was my grandma's.
- Come along. I'll stow the bags.

You get on board and
choose some seats.

Oh, and your ma's right,
it ain't mink. It's musquash.

What's musquash?

It's like a sort of
weasel... only smarter.

I'm scared now.

I'm not. I've heard good things
about these mother-and-baby homes.

And God knows, I
need a bleeding rest.

The parlour corner?

It certainly is a
tremendous-looking specimen...

..but are you sure
it isn't a little big?

I secured an advantageous price

and increased the scale
of our purchase accordingly.

You can put it down there, mate.

Isn't it wonderful?

- Thank you very much.
- Thank you. Thank you.

Here...

bag up some of these
mince pies for him.

They'll still be sticking to
his ribs come Christmas Eve.

I don't know what Mrs
B is putting in that pastry.

Excuse me!

Sir!

We thought you might
enjoy a few mince pies.

They're still warm. I can
feel 'em through the bag.

Yes.

Happy Christmas.

Are you absolutely sure you
can't just take it back to the market

and swap it?

Well, I can't now.

You're late. You
said five o'clock!

I got a full day
down the market.

And a treat!

I done all right.

We'll keep some
back for the meter

and the rest is going in here.

We'll fill it up in no time.

We haven't got no
time, though, have we?

We've got about... four months?

Or five months?

Light the fire, eh?

Like you always do
when you come home.

It certainly seems
rather desolate.

I've never actually been before.

Makes sense, though, don't it?

We're being hidden
away from society's gaze.

I've been hidden away
from society's gaze, anyway.

My mum hasn't let me out
without a coat on for four months!

And not a bleedin' fairy
light in sight, neither.

Good afternoon?

That's enough, thank you.

We don't touch other
people's babies at Astor Lodge.

Hygiene regulations.

I'm an absolute tartar when it
comes to cleanliness. Follow me.

Your cockatiel's
pulling its feathers out.

That's a sign of
illness in a bird.

I've brought both the
girls' notes, Sister Maltby.

Avril Fox and Denise Henshaw.

Once you're happy all
the paperwork's in order,

I'll leave them in your
charge. Which of you is which?

I'm Avril Fox. Miss.

I think you'll find
everyone's a "miss" here.

And this is Denise.
She has mild anaemia.

She's been prescribed
iron tablets, but I think that...

I'll make sure she takes them.

The midwives and doctor at
the cottage hospital will assess

her need for any
further prescriptions.

The labour bell! I
have to get on, Nurse.

- Thank you.
- Of course.

I like to give the girls my
full attention once things get

- underway.
- All right.

Good luck. Do let
us know how it goes.

You won't hear
nothing from me, Nurse.

- I'm putting all this behind me.
- That's the spirit.

- Which one of you is it?
- It's Lena, Sister Maltby.

Get upstairs and fetch her
bag. I take it you did pack?

How many times
do I have to tell you?!

Bags in the hall from two weeks
before your due date. Hand!

Small.

That one looks about right.

Spare your blushes.

Follow me, you two.

Yvonne, he won't calm down
if you don't put him down.

You're there.

- And you're there.
- He knows what's coming up.

He can taste it in my milk.

The only thing he
can taste in your milk

is all the vitamins the National
Health are paying to put down you.

- Isn't that right, little boy?
- His name's Nicholas.

Stop indulging yourself and him.

You're making it
harder for both of you.

Well, welcome to
The Grand Hotel.

Singing carols in the
hospital is always my favourite.

Look, is it childish to be
excited by the thought of snow

- for Christmas?
- Yes.

I rather think we ought to
save three pennies-worth

for Sister Winifred. We could
leave them on her bed for her to find

- after compline.
- I don't think

she'd actually
thank us for them.

When she went
back with the nuns,

she looked as happy to be with
them as we are to be together.

Yes, but it's hardly a normal
life for a young woman!

Or an old one, for that matter.

One bath a week,
chapel four times a day

and black-wool stockings
held up with elastic garters.

You're talking about
the things we can see,

not what goes on behind
closed doors or in her spiritual life.

- It's what she feels called to do.
- I can't argue with that.

Yes, Tom, but you
lead an ordinary life.

You wear ordinary clothes,
apart from your dog collar.

You live in an ordinary house
and you're free to do ordinary things,

like marry, if you want to.

I can't argue with that, either.

But what if Sister Winifred
didn't want just ordinary things?

What if she felt called to
try to live a different way?

Cynthia, you're getting
frightfully exercised by this.

Well... perhaps
that's for a reason.

Oh, good grief.

I'm not sure. I haven't
made my final decision.

But the one thing I do know is
that grief doesn't come into it.

I feel as though I'm on the
edge of a truly great happiness.

Did you know about this?

Do come and talk to
us about it, Cynthia.

I promise Trixie isn't
in quite such a tizz now.

No. I don't want to discuss it.

I can't believe it's what
Cynthia really wants! I can't!

If she'd even
had... one boyfriend.

If one man had so much as
asked her out to the cinema

or held her hand or taken
her in his arms and kissed her,

she wouldn't be in such a
rush to throw her life away!

Trixie, I'm as shocked as
you, but having a boyfriend

is NOT the be all and end all.

Besides, Cynthia doesn't
seem to be rushing into anything.

Do you suppose
there's no hope at all?

The trouble is... it's our
hope versus her faith...

..and I'm not sure
that that's a fair fight.

Colin's got a silver tree.

His auntie sent it from America.

She was a GI bride.

Well, Colin and his family
clearly have very modern tastes.

Your father and I
are more traditional.

I know.

Timothy, a silver tree would just
look plain silly in our sitting room.

But, Mum, it would save money.

We'd be able to get the
same tree out every year,

and Angela would
always be able to say,

"This is the tree we got the
first Christmas I was born."

We're going to have a lovely spruce,
and that's the end of the matter.

If you like, you can choose some

slightly-modern ornaments
from Woolworth's later -

just to prove we aren't
lagging too far behind the times.

Oh! Watch the baby!

- Victor!
- I'm a trained nurse.

Help me to get
him onto his side.

- There's a risk that he might choke.
- Some of the coal's burnt his leg.

Let me deal with the fit. Would
somebody ring for an ambulance?!

- Harry, run to the phone box now!
- It's all right.

It's all right.

I wish his dad could see him.

He's got a dad?

We wanted to get
married, but we aren't 21 yet

and our parents
wouldn't sign the papers.

What about you?

Oh, I packed mine in.

He used to come into my grandad's
pet shop to get seed for his budgies

but I reckon caged
birds were about his limit.

You'll start forming icicles
if you don't get a move on!

I'm really hot. And
I've got a headache.

Yvonne Corless!
Matron's office, please!

You'd think we were rowing
boats down Vicky Park lake.

"Come on, number
three, your time's up."

Pronto!

- Oh, dear. A dummy?
- He cries without it.

Miss French just called
to carry out final checks.

If you go upstairs and
set his clothes on the bed,

I'll be able to tell the parents
what clothes and bedding

to buy in ahead of his arrival.

He's due his feed in a
minute. Can I do that first?

Set his clothes
out, Yvonne, dear.

Pronto!

Denise ain't feeling well.
She needs to see a doctor.

I'm sure it's nothing a
lie-down won't sort out.

Up you go.

And don't come
down till teatime.

I would never give him a dummy.

I'd never put one in a mouth.

Thank you. I'll ensure
the doctor's made aware

and the duty district
nurse. That was the London.

A Mr Victor McKenty has been
discharged after a grand mal episode.

He suffered burns and
will need dressing changes.

The gentleman with the
seizure - he's one of our patients?

There's heat coming off
you like you're a radiator!

And you're covered in a rash!
Do you reckon it's my anaemia?

Well, you're pale enough.

But this is all over your
neck... and behind your ears.

It's like blisters!

No.

No!

Nicholas! No...

No, you can't take him!

No! You can't take him!

- She can't take him! She can't!
- She can! You've signed the papers!

You didn't say it
would be today!

You didn't say I wouldn't
be able to say goodbye

or feed him one last time...

It was time for his feed.

He'll wonder where I am.

I've had words about
indulgence with you in the past!

I remember Victor McKenty.

He was discharged from the
Countess of Irby Mental Home,

after the powers
that be closed it down.

1933. Aged 16 years.

You only saw him
once, in September.

You re-prescribed phenobarbitone.
He had a routine appointment

booked for the end of
November but he missed it.

The secretary should
have noticed that.

Does he need the dose changing?

I suspect what he really needs

- is help in organising the routine.
- Poor soul.

Why would you do that?

Why would you
take a baby like that?

Because it prevents
distressing scenes!

I suggest you take
Yvonne a cup of tea.

I'm going to sit here quietly
and have some hot milk.

Have one for me,
while you're at it.

And you needn't think
I can't smell that gin.

Put that receiver
down this instant!

Regulations state that residents
are not permitted to make calls.

Is that the operator?

I want to be put through to
Nonnatus House, Wick Street, Poplar.

Pronto.

I reckon you're going to
find the regulations state

all sorts of things - like
not drinking on the job,

like keeping the place clean,

like making sure people get

the doctor sent
for when they're ill.

Nonnatus House.
Midwife speaking.

Is that the posh one with the ginger
hair or the one with the glasses?

- The one with the glasses.
- Well...

..I've got news for you.

Avril was adamant that Denise
Henshaw had a rash and a fever.

They're the only two on our
books, but she said some of the girls

haven't seen a midwife
or doctor for weeks.

Do you think she might
have German measles?

Hello, old bean.

He's coming along for the ride.

To the mother-and-baby home?

It's all right. I quite fancy
a bit of moral contagion.

That's enough, Tim.

I don't think I need to change
this today, Mr McKenty.

I'll come back tomorrow
and see to it then.

In the meantime, you
mustn't get the burn wet.

We go to the public
baths on Fridays.

Can he get it wet then?

Best not.

We'll come each day, though, so
we'll be able to tell you when it's safe.

Dr Turner will
be calling in later,

but he's sent a new prescription
for your epilepsy medicine.

Will you be able to pop out
to the chemist, Mrs McKenty?

We're not married.

And the prescription's
too much money.

I shouldn't have presumed.

And I do know a shilling
isn't always easy to find.

Nancy, love, why don't you
make the nurse a cup a tea?

We've got a mince
pie, if you want it?

That would be lovely.

She's shy.

I'm shy, too.

Mr McKenty, you
stay right there.

Here, let me help.

Is someone expecting a baby?

Don't tell her, Victor.

Nancy...

We've got to tell someone.

Did you question her? Do
you know how far along she is?

I didn't dare pry! I'd already
pushed things as far as I could.

She seems very frail.

Well, she's spent half her life
locked up in the Countess of Irby,

like him, I shouldn't wonder.

It's criminal how they've just
turned them out onto the streets.

They're subnormal,
they've been waited on hand,

foot and finger all their
lives, then all of a sudden

they've got to manage
money, cook for themselves,

clean for themselves.

You're on the midwifery roster.

You go with Nurse Miller next
time she makes a district call.

See if we can talk some
sense into the pair of them.

Run the engine and
turn the heater on.

I don't want you with
pneumonia for Christmas.

Can't be any worse than polio.

Your colleague's
upstairs already.

What a terrible smell.

How long has the power been off?

Some bits of the house
have got it, some haven't.

She managed to warm the
milk to put in her gin, though.

The matron? Where is she?

Legged it soon as she knew
I'd blown the whistle on her.

Follow me.

Chickenpox.

She'll need to be moved to a
separate room and kept in isolation.

I want to go home!

Chickenpox can be
frightfully tricky in pregnancy

for... for mother and baby.

They took her baby
and she can't stop crying.

There, there.

He needed feeding.

Doctor?

Would you mind awfully taking
a look at this young lady's eye?

I can see what the
problem is from here.

Burst a blood vessel in
her eye through crying?

I wouldn't have thought it
was anatomically possible.

Mother-and-baby homes
used to be run by small charities.

Then the councils
took them over,

now nobody knows who's
supposed to be in charge,

and you end up
with a mess like this.

Dad, did Angela come
from... a mess like this?

I hope not.

But she did come
from a girl like these.

Ah, there you are!

Sister Monica Joan has
arranged the figurines

in what she calls
"conversational groupings".

What in the name of
goodness is the Angel Gabriel

going to say to the ass?

Dr Turner telephoned
from Astor Lodge.

He says until the matron
is officially replaced,

we must have a qualified
midwife in place round the clock.

- Oh, he does, does he?
- I'm sending Nurse Mount.

And Nurse Noakes has agreed
to commute there by bus each day,

until we get proper care organised
for the mothers and the babies.

Ohh! There's nothing wrong
with my knees! It's my lumbago.

And if it's not that,
it's my indigestion.

Sister, do you need
a doctor? No, I do not.

At least I'm in better
shape than this poor wretch.

Got more scars than
Frankenstein's monster.

I got this down the tip.

I told her, Nurse, I don't
think it's clean enough.

It certainly needs a
run-in with some Stardrops.

But I've seen older prams
than this giving sterling service.

The thing is, Nancy, if you
would agree to visit the doctor

and have your pregnancy confirmed,
we can look after you properly.

I don't like doctors.
Do I, Victor?

No, love.

They're not...

kind.

Our doctor's very kind.

Besides, once you've
filled in all your forms,

you'll qualify for the
government maternity grant.

Baby's going to need a cot
and clothes as well as a pram.

I'll come with you, Nance.

And so will I. We don't just
want what's best for you.

We want what's best for baby.

Using your skill, judgment
and encyclopaedic knowledge

of the Homicide Act 1957,

discuss the implications of the
term "diminished responsibility".

This defence is distinguishable
from the defence of insanity,

for while the former requires
a substantial impairment

of mental responsibility arising
from an abnormality of the mind,

the latter requires
a defect of reason

- arising from a disease of the mind.
- Top notch.

I don't think it's helping to
try and do two things at once.

We'd be doing
three things at once

if I was actually doing the thing
that I most need to be getting done,

and that's decorating
the Christmas tree.

Do you reckon we're in
for another sleepless night?

I don't know. I had hoped
the antibiotics would clear it.

I'm starting to think
it's this filthy city air.

If I got my stripes, I could move us
out to Redbridge or Walthamstow.

The air would be cleaner there.
He'd have a garden to play in.

Let's see, shall we?

Sorry, Sister. I couldn't sleep.

Nor could I.

I was on my way to the
clinical room for some aspirin.

For your hand?

Pain can be a sign that a
wound is healing. It passes.

I keep thinking this will pass.

The questioning?

The wanting. I've never longed
for anything so much in my life.

It seems to me that if
that is what you're feeling,

the questioning is over.

I don't know why
he wants ME, Sister!

I have nothing to give!

Nothing to sacrifice or offer
up in exchange for all his love.

Once upon a time, I thought I
knew what God had in mind for me,

but I didn't.

I thought I knew what
love was but I didn't.

Certainty is fleeting.

That is why we must have faith.

- Thank you.
- All right, my love, thank you.

Any more fares.

Tickets.

Ah, morning!

One of our young ladies went
into labour in the small hours.

I sat up with her, she left in
an ambulance half an hour ago

after she'd had
some tea and toast.

Give us them sheets, Nurse. I'll
get them in the laundry hamper.

That's the spirit!

Don't know what I would've
done without Avril last night.

She's the perfect marvel.

How did you come by
this scar on your tummy?

I had an operation.

At the Countess of Irby?

Helped me with my monthlies.

Were you in pain?

No.

They said it would help
them to stay regular.

I had it when I had the
operation on my head.

Can you remember why
they did this, Miss Williston?

Because I couldn't keep still.

I couldn't keep still inside, in
my brain, or outside in my body.

It was like I always
wanted to dance.

And afterwards?

Like there wasn't
any music any more.

That was the psychiatrist
who supervised the closure

of that hospital.

Said his predecessors
were notorious.

Lobotomy. Leucotomy.

A lobotomy? Without her consent?

If she'd been committed, she
wouldn't have been asked for it.

There's a chance
she wouldn't have

understood the
implications if she had.

Ready?

I'm afraid you aren't going
to have a baby, Nancy.

Doctor believes your
monthly periods have stopped

as part of a natural process
called the menopause.

Happens to all women,

sometime between
their 40s and their 50s.

I'm not that old.

Doctor believes you might be.

He's sent away for your medical
records, so we can all be sure,

but...

he is absolutely certain
that you aren't expecting.

She might still get pregnant.

I might.

If I eat right and do
all the proper things,

I still might.

And I can look after her.

Nancy, Doctor thinks the
operation on your tummy

was something
called a tubal ligation.

It was actually
done by the doctors

to prevent you from
ever conceiving a child.

What does "conceiving" mean?

It means... to
make and to carry.

Have I imagined it all?

Have I been ill in
my head again?

No. You just
wanted it very much.

And that's understandable.

I'm so very sorry, Nancy.

Nancy!

Nancy!

I love you!

Don't say you love me.

Please don't say you love me.

Don't say that.

But I can't give you anything.

I can't... can't fill in
anything that is missing.

You give me what you
can. I give you what I can.

My blessing is that you let me.

I ask for no more, and
we're both made whole by it.

Little donkey, little donkey

On the dusty road

Got to keep on plodding onwards

With your precious load!

That was absolutely lovely,

although I'm sure if
Nurse Noakes were here,

she would say the donkeys
would be a little bit more proud.

Mm-hm?

You OK, Beverley? Can I see?

- Her tooth's fallen out!
- Oh, go to the kitchen, Beverley,

and rinse your mouth
out with some water.

You can take your
friend with you.

Second verse...

It's the cotton wool.
It's just not convincing.

I think you're
worrying about nothing.

Been a long time, little donkey

Through the winter's night...

Don't give up now.

Don't give up now, little donkey

Bethlehem's in sight.

That was very good, well done.

Oh, no, it's Fred.

What a shame. You've spoiled
Fred's wonderful surprise!

He's going to be doing such a
lovely song and dance number

at the concert. We were
just trying his costume on.

I checked on Denise and
reapplied the calamine.

The spots seem to
be drying out nicely.

Yvonne seems to
be picking up a bit too.

Astor Lodge. Acting
Sister speaking.

It's me, Camilla.

This is an unexpected pleasure.

How was Freddie
when you left him?

A bit chesty. There's a
couple like him at nursery.

I need you to test
me on procedure.

Peter, I'm at work. I don't
have any of the manuals.

You know them back to
front and inside out, Camilla!

This is just nerves,
Peter. I promise you.

I've got the 1872 Licensing Act
going round and round in my head

like a hamster on a wheel.

Peter, the exam's
tomorrow. I'll be home tonight.

We'll sit in our dressing
gowns with a cup of Horlicks,

I'll test you then.

I love you, Camilla.

Chummy, have you seen outside?

Oh, botheration!

I rather think Wellingtons
might be in order!

Nonsense. These brogues
have never been confounded.

I'll be on that bus before
you can say "knife".

Stop! Halt! Wait!

Ohh! Oh, God.

Ow!

Blast! Wait, please.

I'm anxious about you going
anywhere in these conditions.

It's not a long walk to the station,
and the trains are running as usual.

I do need to tell my
parents face to face.

Of course.

Sister, is this sheep
being thrown away?

Do you want it?

Oh, no. I'm going to be
laying possessions to one side,

but I know someone who
would love this so much.

I desperately wanted
to be at home tonight.

Peter needs me.

As does Freddie.

The buses have stopped running,

they've just announced
it on the wireless.

And much good you'd do them,
dead in a ditch like Captain Oates!

Thank you.

Are you ready for beddie-byes?

No Mama for us tonight, Freddie.

We're looking at
a boys' night in.

Come on, give me a
twirl. I want to be twirled!

Come on! No wallflowers allowed!

Girls, here I go!

Whoo!

That's it, Chummy. Ooh!

Avril?

Well, it's very much curtains
up and light the lights time!

You sure you aren't
making a mistake?

That's it.

That's it.

You just... you just meet
that bally pain... head on,

let it know who's boss!

Does it get worse than this?

Guide's honour?

I was never in
the bloody Guides!

Well, it does get a
smidgen more intense,

but not for very long.

You can hold my hand
when we get to the sharp end.

I don't want to hold your hand.

I just want to go
to the hospital.

You're out of luck
there, I'm afraid.

The ambulance can't get through

so you'll just have to
make do with us two!

Freddie?

It's OK, ssh, ssh.
It's OK, ssh, ssh.

You can let it out, you know.

There'll be absolutely
no mention in despatches

for keeping a stiff upper lip.

You can squeal like
a stuck pig, if you like.

No-one'll hear you.

My mother used to say that.

I learned how to stay
as quiet as a mouse.

Funny thing was...

I did it to please
her at first...

..then I knew I never would.

I started to do it out of spite.

Do what?

Bite my tongue.

Not cry.

She'd get bored
quicker, hit me less.

No-one's going to
hit you now, old thing.

Guide's honour?

Absolutely.

I shouldn't make you tell
me the truth. I've lied and lied.

That's of no consequence
at all just now.

I never knew my grandparents.

They didn't have a pet shop.

My mum dumped
me in Dr Barnardo's,

left me there with all
the other little bastards.

Mrs Torpy.

Mrs Torpy!

Hello?

It's OK.

There we go.

Well done.

That's it.

Breathe.

Well done.

Baby's head's well on its way.

Did you hear that, Avril?
The finish line's in sight.

It looks like it's a
compound presentation.

Avril, listen to me.

Now, all will be well,

but it looks like baby's
wanting to be born

with his hand held
up against his head.

- I just want this to be over.
- I know.

It's a rotten business,
but if you do as we tell you,

it really won't be much longer.

It's going to be all right.

Ssh-ssh-ssh.

Fire, Police and Ambulance.

- Which service do you require.
- Ambulance.

I've a 14-month-old
baby who can't breathe.

We are advised that
due to adverse weather,

it is taking up to 90
minutes for ambulances to...

Not too hard, Avril.

We need nice, steady pushes.

I can't...

Yes, you can.

Good girl, Avril.

It's Freddie. I don't
know what to do.

Whatever is the matter?

The child has croup. I have
seen it a thousand times.

And the best remedy
for the malady is steam

equal child of
engineering and of nature.

Ssh-ssh. It's OK.

Good girl, Avril! Good girl!

That's it. That's it.

Am I doing it wrong?

No. Believe me, if you were
on stage at the Albert Hall

the audience would be
on their feet and cheering!

I want the baby to be all right.

I don't want it to be hurt.

That's it.

Well done.

- Bravo, Avril! Bravo.
- Well done.

Well done!

It's a little girl.

She looks rather like Ma, if
I'm not very much mistaken.

Be a sport and take a peek.

You worked so hard.

No.

The fever has broken.

May the Lord be praised.

Did you hear that? Come here.

I've had two hours' sleep.

I can move mountains
on two hours' sleep.

So can you, you're no
stranger to the night shift.

There! You'll do.

Now, we will be fine
until you get back.

Remember, one stripe,
two stripes, three stripes -

none of it's worth
tuppence ha'penny,

compared with what
you've got already.

I know.

Thank you.

I don't want to see her.

If I believed that, I
wouldn't be standing here,

holding your beautiful
daughter in my arms.

She's not going to be
my beautiful daughter.

She's going to be somebody
else's beautiful daughter.

Or else she can go
in a home, like I did.

Avril, you can give us a
bravura performance of not caring

if you like, but last night when
the chips were down, you did

everything you could to bring
this baby safely into the world.

You did everything YOU could.

You carried her inside
you for nine months.

Your body sheltered
her and nourished her.

It still could, if you
wanted to feed her.

What for?

We're both on our own now,
might as well get used to it.

Avril, you're going to
be together for weeks.

I just wanted a nice life.

A happy life...

..with proper things in
it, like other people had.

And a home -with a small
"H", not a capital letter.

You wanted love,
that's not unreasonable.

I thought I had it...

with him

the one I went to bed with.

And I was wrong.

Love doesn't always come
in the package one expects,

and this little one was born
reaching out for your hand.

Well...

more fool her.

It's all right.

You may turn over
your paper and begin.

Any news from Peter?

Not yet. I think he'll
still be in the exam.

I asked Avril if she'd
like to feed baby.

She gave me my marching
orders, in no uncertain terms.

It's bally wrong, you know
- locking girls away like this

and then forcing them
to make their choice.

But it isn't a choice,
that's the thing.

Places like this make the
shame and the stigma even worse.

Avril was illegitimate,

she grew up in a home.

All she needs is love.

She needs love so badly

she ended up bringing a
daughter of her own into the world.

She daren't even look at her...

never mind love her.

Excuse me, Nurse,

only I just went past Denise's
room and she was crying.

I want my mum.

I want my mum.

Shall we see if we can
get her on the telephone?

I... I don't think
she wants to know.

Oh, I'm sure
that's not the case.

Come on. There we are.

I wondered where you'd got to.

You look sad.

I couldn't be happier.

For us.

Our daughter started life
as someone else's child.

How can we ever forget that?

I forget it a
hundred times a day!

Then I remember,

and my heart breaks for the
poor wee girl who gave her up.

And it's Christmas.

She'll be thinking,
"Is she loved?"

Can I hold her?

She's your baby.

There's no need to ask.

The young madam's just been
indulging in a spot of luncheon.

It's like we fit
into each other.

Like we're two
pieces of a puzzle.

I don't want her thinking
I didn't want to know.

How will I ever give her up?

She might need me one day.

She needs you now.

There's no law that
says you can't keep her.

No.

There isn't, is there?

We do all understand
that this letter

may never reach the
baby's first mother.

It may be that all the
adoption society will do is

keep it on file, in case
she ever makes enquiries.

- I still think we ought to try.
- Very well.

"Your daughter is now
known as Angela Julienne

"and she is ten weeks old.

"She has blonde hair, she
has an older brother, Timothy,

"and our family lives..."

in a flat with a
natural Christmas tree.

Shall we take our seats?

When Santa got
stuck up the chimney

He began to shout

You girls and boys
won't get any toys

If you don't pull me out

My beard is black...

My nose is tickly too

When Santa got
stuck up the chimney

Achoo, achoo, achoo!

Merry Christmas!

Thank you for looking after me.

- All part of the service!
- No, thank you, Nurse.

Bye, everyone.

Bye. Bye, Yvonne.

Is he all right?

Chickenpox didn't hurt him?

Doctor's been. Says he's fine.

I should have made sure you
caught it when you were a little girl.

I always did everything
I could to protect you.

It's all right, Mum.

He's my first grandchild.

There'll be others. But
he'll always be the first.

He'll always be my first.

You can change your mind.

If I did,

I'd be doing what
I want most now.

Not what's best.

Not for him or for me.

I know.

I know.

And I'll think about
him every Christmas.

If not every wish can
be granted at Christmas,

it is still a time of
generosity and gentleness,

of gathering together
and closing out the world,

and amongst all the glitter
and the gifts, one precious thing

shines brighter than the rest,

and that is the simple
act of sharing all we have,

and the season made complete.

Oh! Where did it go?

Never in the field...

Pass.

Can't believe I'm doing this.

It's New Year's Eve!

We could be out
having high jinks

with the junior
doctors at the London.

But we're here,
though, aren't we?

Waving Cynthia off for six
months in the Mother House!

And I'm so glad.

I decided when I saw you I
was going to say, "Ready?",

as if it was your wedding day.

But there's no need for me
to ask that at all, is there?

And I'm coming back.

They've already told
me I'm coming back here.

But they might change your name.

You might be called
something else.

Be somebody else.

But you won't.

If I take the wings
of the morning

And dwell in the
uttermost parts of the sea...

Sometimes Christmas
is made more exquisite

by the change it brings.

New beginnings,
accepted with grace,

become beloved memories

and their beauty shines forever.

Dear faces under glass.

Oh, look!

Snow!

Philip!

Ah, perfect.

And now...

something to make
it all truly complete.

Well, it wouldn't be Christmas
without this, would it?

Oh, it gets more delicate
with every year that passes.

Doesn't get any better
looking, though, does it?

No!

If we are lucky, we find love.

If we're blessed, we
understand its meaning.

The bird-print kisses
at the bottom of a card

will not vanish like the
snow but will endure.

You know you should
get it down on paper.

What?

Write my memoirs?

I think you should consider it.

I will...

after Christmas.