All language subtitles for Call The Midwife - 04x08 - Episode 8.DVDRip-x264-TASTETV.English.updated.Addic7ed.com

Ripped By mstoll

What do we see
when we look in the mirror?

Our truest selves

or a faint approximation

of someone we'd rather be?

The mirror sees it all.
Our fears, our little triumphs.

And keeps our secrets,
holds our disappointments in.

Nuns are supposed to be frugal.

Maybe I shouldn't have bought
cut flowers.

It's only a few dahlias.

They might think that I'm extravagant.

Maybe I should have bought
a pot plant instead.

They've invited us to tea
to celebrate our news.

You don't have to give them anything.

But Fred, it's an honour,

people like them
inviting people like us.

You'd understand if you was a woman.

If I was a woman,
we wouldn't be engaged.

Fred.

I'm nervous.

Don't be.
It's just one big, happy family.

It's not working, Sister Evangelina.

- Ugh!
- Oh.

I think the chimney must be blocked.

Blocked, no doubt, because of
a certain handyman's negligence.

Uh, pass me the poker.

I think it likely it is trammelled
by a bird's nest.

According to its species,

doom of several aspects might ensue.

I should shudder more
were it to prove a jackdaw or a magpie.

It's probably a stork
with a slightly singed backside.

Oh!

Fred should have had this chimney
swept in September,

when we didn't need a fire,

instead of mooning about
like Billy Bunter

struck by Cupid's dart.

Fred. Mrs Gee.
It's so good of you to come

and share your happiness with us.

It's good of you to invite us.

Oh, dahlias. How very extravagant!

Excuse me. What's that?

It's an engagement cake.

Decorated with buttercream
and crystallised violets.

It's a sort of pun
on Mrs Gee's first name.

I meant underneath it.

It's, um, a silver board.

It's the silver board
that went under my engagement cake.

I thought it had been thrown out.

Well, why would we do that?
It cost two and eleven.

Oh, don't worry, Trixie.

I'm sure it won't bring them
bad luck or anything.

This little piggy went to market,
this little piggy stayed at home.

This little piggy had roast beef

and this little piggy had none.

And this little piggy
went wee-wee-wee-wee,

all the way to Walton-on-the-Naze
to see his grandparents.

Camilla, can you steer clear
of the W-word?

What, Walton-on-the-Naze?

- No. Wee-wee.
- Oh.

He's going to get confused
and we've two hours drive ahead of us.

Sorry.

I'm aware there are better times

for me to be going off to do
a fortnight's course at The London.

But we've made great leaps forward
with this little lavatory seat.

- Simple pleasures, eh?
- Have faith.

He'll be running for gold
at the Potty Olympics in no time.

Come here.

Camilla. You've forgotten something.

Good Lord.

I love you.

I love you.

Oh. Oh. Peter!

Peter!

Oh!

May you both be happy always.

- Thank you.
- So, have you established a date

for these nuptials, Mrs Gee?

Well, it won't be far off.

My son lives in Plymouth
and he's due some leave from the Navy

so I'd like it to be then.

What about your daughters, Fred?

Oh, Dolly and Marlene?

Oh, Dolly's moved to Australia now.
She'd only have just got the letter.

Oh, I thought she lived in Canada.

No, that's Marlene. She's back home now.

She's settled in Birmingham.

I imagine she's already browsing
the catalogue for outfits.

We haven't heard anything, have we?

I'm sure we will.

Nurse Noakes!

You are restored to us.

Ah.

And you have come supplied.

Which is just as well, for we have
guests of uncommon appetite today.

I'm frightfully vexed at being late,

I was rather hoping
for a morsel of pork pie.

"Dost thou think,
because thou art virtuous,

"there shall be no more cakes and ale?"

Sorry, Sister Monica Joan.
It's my mother's ashes.

They are of comfort to you, perhaps.

Yes and no.

Let's not take it to the party.

She was such a stickler for etiquette,

she'd never go anywhere
without an invitation.

Long time no see, Maureen.

Hello, Carole.
How's life since you got rehoused?

I swear, that tower block wobbles
when it's windy.

What are you doing here, dare I ask?

I'm in the family way again.

They reckon there's going to be
a pill soon can stop it happening.

- There's a pill for everything nowadays.
- Is Ted pleased?

Over the moon.
He's away now, though, at sea.

Oh, of course. I'd forgotten.

Baby Cowan, Baby Kelly,

Baby Singh, Baby Pritchard.

Doctor's been delayed,
so the vaccination appointments

have all been put back by half an hour.
Sorry, ladies.

I may as well feed him here.

He's ever so obliging.
He never minds if it's cold.

You'd be a fool
to feed 'em fresh, really.

Listen to what's in this.
Macaroni, bacon and tomato.

Nurse? Nurse!

Hello, my love. You all right?

All right, fellas?

Hello, darlin'.

Morning, Mrs Gandini.

Haven't seen you in a while.

Talk about a sight for sore eyes.

Marlene!

I'm hardly the Avon Lady, Dad.

Although, judging by the smell of you,
she's been here already.

Oh, it's only a bit of Old Spice.
I've got to keep the standards up now.

Did you get the letter?
About my lady friend?

Yes, Dad, I did.

Well, I'll take this away
if the moment has passed.

Nothing brings on sickness faster
than staring at the empty bowl.

A tea leaf in my tea
brought it on this morning.

I've been like this
since I missed my first monthly.

If I was a gambling woman,
I'd put five bob on a girl.

I've rinsed out Mrs Gadsby's handbag

and brought her a nice cup of tea.

Oh. Thanks.

Would you mind
just putting it over there?

Of course.

Would you like a Polo Mint?
I've got some in my pocket.

- I didn't hear that.
- Oh, yes, please.

Mind over matter. And Polo mints.
That's what'll get you through this.

- Knock, knock.
- Come in.

Poor thing. Have you got a hangover?

How could I be hungover?
I haven't even been to bed yet.

Let alone had anything
stronger than a Bournvita.

I got rather a shock when I realised

Nonnatus House had moved on
from Horlicks.

Still, the bathroom smells
just the same.

Palmolive and Izal.

The girls at the Mother
and Baby Home use Lux.

Hmm.

Whatever are you doing?

Applying a protein mask.

My complexion appears to be
at the crossroads of youth and old age.

This morning I found the beginnings
of a pimple

and a line beneath each eye.

I daren't even look in the mirror
with my glasses on.

My whole face
is sort of sliding downwards,

like a rather exhausted blancmange.

Do you suppose it would be as effective

to take on the protein
in the form of, say,

a fried egg sandwich or some custard?

No.

Yours is the one without the spoon.

And no sugar,
'cause you're sweet enough.

She's keeping your dust down,
at any rate.

I don't have Violet coming round
here doing my housework, Marlene.

She's got a business to run
and a home of her own.

Well, where does that leave you, Dad?

Well, I've handed notice on this place,

so when we're married,
I'm going to move in with her.

I thought she'd come and live here?

Well, she lives over her shop.
It'd be a bit handier.

- Well, handy for who?
- Marlene...

I knew you hadn't thought
this through, Dad.

That's why I brought an overnight bag,
so I can stay here until you do.

Mater would thoroughly approve of this.

She always wanted me to slenderise.

Then when she was dying, she pushed
a plate of scones towards me and said,

"Camilla, look after your face.

"The other end's for sitting on,
nobody'll ever see it."

It's her anniversary coming up.

I'm going to scatter her ashes
in commemoration.

Somewhere where she was happy?

I can't take them back to India.

And they'd take a rather dim view of it
in the food hall at Fortnum & Mason.

Burnt cinder crunching under foot.

The truth is

I haven't the first idea
where to put her.

She floated through life
like a beautiful scarf

or a trace of perfume.

I'm not sure anywhere
left its mark on her

or indeed, vice versa.

Hello, midwife calling!

I see someone's dashing away
with the smoothing iron.

Sorry.

Yes. I'd absolutely adore one.

Bourbons. My favourite.

Did you have regular check-ups
with your old GP?

Forgive me.

When was the last time
you saw your doctor?

Dr Cartmel.

Manchester.

Hello, beautiful.

Apologies, nurse. I did promise her
I'd be home before you got here

but the Chief Clerk wouldn't let me go.

I'm Kevin Dillen.

Nurse Franklin.

Do you speak sign language, Mr Dillen?

Ah, the minute I clapped eyes on June,

I made up my mind
to learn sign language.

And learn I did.

She says I won't win any prizes
but I'm okay.

Oh.

And did Mrs Dillen's husband
translate adequately?

We had a certain amount of fun
and games with "cervix" and "vagina"

but all in all,
I think we did quite well.

I explained how we'd help her
with her home delivery

and she seemed frightfully keen.

Especially when I said
her husband could stay with her.

Can you pass the pickles,
please, Barbara?

We've been through this
time and time again.

There is no need for a man
to be in the delivery rooms.

We don't even need them to boil water,

so many people have got
immersion heaters.

Nurse Crane, do you have a view?

I've seen it done once,
in an artistic family in Leeds.

Suffice to say,
there was a fainting episode.

And it wasn't the mother.

Well, June's husband
doesn't look like a fainter to me.

He seems extremely sensible.

And if he's the only person
who can communicate with her,

she's going to need his help
when the baby's born.

And so will we.
I learned some sign language

when I helped with the Girls' Brigade
and I can teach a little to Trixie.

But June needs at least one person
who truly understands her.

And that person
happens to be the father of her child.

I rather think that
Nurse Franklin is right.

Do you want to hear my news?

You've given it quite the build-up,

I'm rather afraid
it's going to disappoint.

They're knocking down the nurses' home.

- Really?
- Well, half of it.

Those of us who volunteer to move out
and find private digs

will be given a rent allowance
and I put my name down.

Oh, Delia, you don't want to end up
in some filthy hole

living cheek-by-jowl
with a lot of students.

No, I don't.
I want to live in a spotless flat.

With you.

Oh, say you will, Pats.
Think of the fun we'd have.

Think of how we'd wave
each other off each morning

and then come home
and close the door at night.

And how we'd talk and talk
and then maybe get a record player.

It'd be so easy.

Would it?

Sure there aren't any rules
saying you can't?

No, there aren't. I checked.

Are there any saying you can't?

I don't have to live in Nonnatus,
it was offered to me as a sort of perk.

Lots of girls share flats.

Not even a nun would bat an eyelid.

Good morning, madam.

I'm your fianc�'s daughter.
Marlene Dooley, n�e Buckle.

You remember me?

Yes. Yes, I do.
Oh, what a lovely surprise.

Good. 'Cause I ain't come in
for two yards knicker elastic.

I used to come in here with my mum.

Hair ribbons, mostly.

She was hard-pressed to keep me
and Dolly looking nice

but she made a point about ribbons,
even during the war.

Blue for your sister
and yellow for you.

Cigarette?

I don't care for smoking in the shop.

The smell clings to the wool

and I'm not convinced
it comes out in the wash.

These are mentholated.
Quite a pleasant aroma.

My dad always said no woman
could ever take my mother's place.

And he's absolutely right.

And no man could ever replace
my husband.

You were quite a double act,
you and Mr Gee.

Him with his tripe shop
and you with this.

We worked hard. It's what you do
when you want to get on.

Shame my dad never took a leaf
from your book.

Still, he knows a steady business
when he sees it.

"Proper little goldmine."

That was the phrase he used.

I believe he's moving in here,
after you've done the deed.

It was what we discussed, yes.

I wish I could say I was surprised.

But he's always had an eye
for the main chance, my dad.

Good morning, Mrs Becker.

- Your dress shields have arrived.
- Oh, good.

I'll leave you to your clientele.

And by the way,
it was the other way round.

What was?

Hair ribbons.

Dolly's were yellow, mine were blue.

My dad used to say,
"Sky blue. Like your mother's eyes."

As this is the first
in a new series of classes,

Sister Mary Cynthia has set up
a suggestions box,

so you can inform us
of our shortcomings.

Comments on the refreshments
are not encouraged.

Mr and Mrs Dillen.
How nice to see you both.

Oh.

Hello.

You can lie here.

You're welcome.

Excuse me. What's going on here?

June uses sign language to communicate.

I don't mean that.
I mean, what's her old man doing here?

If I'd known men were invited,
I'd have brought mine, too.

- Me, too.
- And mine.

I'm sure we don't want
to distract anyone from honest toil.

I have got to take a load
of bookkeeping home with me tonight,

make up for lost time.

Shame my Jack can't do the same.

But he can hardly unload
crates of bananas in the parlour.

Don't worry. Everyone's lovely.

I'm not stopping.

The chimney at Nonnatus
is still giving jip.

Only I was passing the baker's
and they'd put a tray of meringues out.

- And I know you love 'em.
- Yes, I do.

They come out a little bit squashed

so they were selling them
two for the price of one.

See you tomorrow morning
for our little constitutional.

Cor, we'll be papering the parlour
with that lot.

Why do you want to move into a flat?

Aren't you happy here?

I'm as happy
as I've ever been in my life.

But there is something
I find hard to acknowledge.

I have a dark secret.

I've never lived independently.

I've never paid a bill
or bought a pint of milk

or put up a bookshelf in my life.

I have a dark secret, too.
Neither have I.

Nurse Mount, you will still join us
for lunch each day?

Of course.

A small amount of change
is good for a community. Too much isn't.

Besides, you'd be missed.

I've added a little bit of sugar.

- Even a few sips will help.
- No, I can't. I'm sorry.

Oh, don't be. One of the reasons
we make booking-in visits

is to make sure all is well.
And clearly, it isn't.

Have you managed to prepare
any food for Neil today?

I've given him Farley's rusks.

But he don't like them dry
and I can't...

I can't face boiling m...

Milk?

Oh, is there someone
close by who can...

Who can call in each day and help?

Your mother, perhaps?

She's over in Bermondsey.
We don't speak.

What about your husband?

He's in Wormwood Scrubs, love.

Doing three years for burglary.

Doctor has a very busy round today.

I really don't think he can visit
just for morning sickness.

Oh, this is more than morning sickness,
Mrs Turner.

Maureen's been vomiting all day long.

Tell her to pop into clinic
next Tuesday.

It's probably all nerves. I'm sure
Doctor will be able to reassure her.

I love it when you don't wear
a hat or a scarf

and the sun gets the chance
to shine down on your hair.

Shame it don't get a chance
to shine down on mine, eh?

I had an interesting chat
in the shop yesterday about hair.

- Well, hair ribbons.
- Did you? Who with?

Marlene.

I'm sorry, Vi. Marlene can be
a right madam when she has a mind to be.

I wouldn't have said
she was being a madam.

I would've said
she was trying to be honest.

Honest? What do you mean, honest?
She's talking codswallop.

It's not even true codswallop.

Fred, have you or have you not
made any provision for your old age?

I'm looking into setting up
a mushroom farm.

And I haven't given up
on fireworks altogether.

Well, none of them's exactly
what you'd call

"a little goldmine", though, is it?

No.

Fred, why did you ask to marry me
when we could've just stayed friends?

I've got loads of friends.

Well, mates and acquaintances.

I haven't had a missus
for nearly 20 years.

And you're getting on a bit. Well, old.

Whichever way you want to put it.

Well, yeah, I'm no spring chicken
but then again, neither are you.

We can look after each other now,
can't we?

I don't need anyone to look after me,
thank you very much.

And if you do, well...

Fred, I'm not sure that you're
doing this for the right reasons.

I... I'm doing this
because I thought we fitted together.

I thought you were missing things
and so was I.

Exactly.

Let's put an end to this.

We're too old to make mistakes.

Morning, Fred.

This'll cheer you up.

Mum always used to say the smell
of bacon made a house a home.

We'll have people and prams
coming in single file, please.

This isn't the chariot race in Ben Hur.

Oh, thank you. I'll call in,
collect the registration form.

Yes.

Since when is this hall
your personal wastepaper basket?

I'm sorry, sister.

I was just pleased. I managed
to find a council nursery space

for Maureen Gadsby's little boy.

Oh, you have, have you?

I decided that if her problem
really was nerves,

with more rest and more support,
she might find her sickness resolved.

Well, it's hardly scientific

but it is full of compassion
and common sense.

And much of the time
that's all a midwife needs.

You'll do.

Now, go and lend a hand
at the weighing table

and put that in the bin.

I feared you had not yet succeeded
in your task.

I looked for a lightness about you,
a sense of a burden gone.

But I could not perceive it.

No.

Sister Julienne's given me permission
to keep the ashes here,

until I decide what to do.

It didn't seem quite right keeping her
under my bed, like a pair of slippers.

I shall be eternally glad
when I am transmogrified.

The burden of the flesh is so heavy.

It is no marvel
that the soul feels trapped.

Sister Monica Joan,

I rather suspect if anything's trapping
poor Mater,

it's me.

Then you must release her.

I know. But where?

It's the last thing
I'll ever do for her.

I have to make sure everything's
top-notch and tickety-boo.

All done properly
or we'll never let go.

Maureen?

It's Nurse Gilbert.

Maureen?

Oh, Maureen!

Maureen, you need to see a doctor.

And this time,
he's going to come to you.

Nonnatus House, midwife speaking.
How may I help you?

Hello, this is Kevin Dillen.

- I think June's labour's just started.
- Dillen?

Of course.
The little deaf and dumb lady.

I shall dispatch her personal midwives.

And how many times a day do you vomit?

Twenty or 30.

Let me put a little Vaseline
on your lips, Maureen, to soothe them.

I'll be running some blood
tests and some urine tests

but I don't need either to see
that you're extremely dehydrated.

People keep saying it's my nerves.

It seems to me that you have a condition
called hyperemesis gravidarum.

It's rare but very debilitating.

Will I lose it, doctor? The baby?

Babies are tough
little things, Mrs Gadsby.

But if we can't sort out some fluids,
we're more likely to lose you.

I'm sorry, June.

Can you tell her I don't think
things are on the move just yet.

Not ready yet.

I know. I know, it's disappointing.

- False alarm, I'm afraid.
- Oh.

Baby will come soon, just not today.

Tell me, June.

You can tell me.

She says, "I want to meet my baby."

She says "I thought
I would meet him tonight.

"I feel him kick.
I feel him turn inside of me.

"Put my hand here,

"here, where I feel his fist
or his foot and we are one."

She says, "Will we understand each other
when he's born?

"If he's like you, I have no voice
for him to hear

"and if he's like me,
he'll live in silence."

She says, "I need to hold him.

"I want to look into his face

"because until I do,

"I won't know how to tell him
that he's loved."

Oh, goodness me, Sister Monica Joan.

You look like Mrs Hiawatha,
all wrapped up like that.

I would respond in verse

but my brain is too gelid to
recall the scantest couplet.

And I doubt Minnehaha would be obliged

to secrete a bottle of hot water
underneath her scapula.

It is frightfully nippy.
I might venture a vest after luncheon.

The boiler has died from inattention.

I may yet suffer the same fate.

Has Fred stopped coming altogether?

He has not been seen since
his liaison with the haberdasher

withered on the vine.

He must be distraught.

He would be more so

if he could see the tinge of blue
upon my hands.

I've come to take
your blood pressure, Maureen.

What's happening to Neil?

Did Nurse Gilbert
take him to the nursery?

She did.

And they agreed he could stay till 5:00,

to give us the time to make
arrangements with Social Services.

Social Services? Oh...

Maureen, Neil needs to be looked after
while we take care of you.

The foster mother we've found
for him is lovely.

Foster mother? I'm his mother.

He cries for his dad already.
I don't need him crying for me, too.

He can't do without me
for weeks and weeks. He can't.

I promise you, children are more
resilient than you think.

What does "resilient" mean?

It means strong.

I wish I was resilient.

Because if I was,
Neil wouldn't have to be.

What ho, Fred?

Delia, what if I go past
one of the Cubs?

It makes an utter nonsense
of everything I've ever

told them during cycling proficiency.

Well what's the alternative?
Me with the mop across my shoulders

and the buckets hanging
from each end of it,

- as if I was a milkmaid?
- Well, why not?

It'd be much safer
and you'd look quite fetching.

Not as fetching as you. Go on,

I'll take the bike.
You can see to the brushes and buckets.

It's my work bike.
And there's a knack to it.

Oh, go on. I need the practice anyway.

I'll be needing a bike of my own
once we're in the flat.

Oh! Gangway.

- Yeah. Ooh, ooh.
- Oh!

Sorry.

Ding dong, Avon calling.

Don't you flaming well start.

Sorry. I have an uncanny knack
for misplaced jollity.

Feel free to shy a plimsoll at me.

I called in at the corner shop,

they said you hadn't picked up
the Sporting Life since Monday.

I shouldn't be entertaining you
in my vest.

We've all got our vests on in Nonnatus.

Some of us are wearing two.

- The boiler broken?
- Yes.

Because no one's come
to see to it for days.

And the chimney's choked with soot.

You know the fella before me
warned me about that boiler.

He said, "You'll have to
sweet-talk it every day.

"It's like a bad-tempered woman."

Those contraptions have been giving
me the runaround for 15 years

but I never knew what he meant
about bad-tempered women

until this week.

Do you mean Violet or your daughter?

Both.

I thought Marlene was staying with you?

No, she's gone to stay
with her friend Norah.

Says she's fed up with
looking at my long face.

Does she, indeed?

Doesn't stop her coming round every day

to check to see
if the flat's still standing.

It's like she's fixated
with the place.

Patrick, is there nothing at all
that we can do for Maureen Gadsby?

I've seen hyperemesis before
but never like this.

Is it cooked through when the mince
is bubbling through the potato?

It looks slightly like volcanic lava.

I'm sure it will taste
perfectly delicious.

But really, Patrick, with all
the drug salesmen knocking on our door,

hasn't there been one who's
offered some sort of anti-emetic?

Yes, I think there was someone,
a month or two ago.

I think we were busy with diphtheria.

I will look it up in the log.

Oh, I forgot to say, it's really hot.

Oh...

I want yellow walls in here.

And china with a modern pattern.
I don't want roses or violets on it,

I want geometric designs.

I want the only flowers
to be real flowers,

over there, on that windowsill.

Where they'll catch the light
each morning when the sun comes up.

We'll have to find something
better than that ghastly jug.

Oh, I like it. It's as though somebody
left it for us, like a little gift.

And I want to smell coffee
when I wake up

and bleach,
because that'll mean you're here.

Or that you've just gone out.

And when you come back in,
I can say, "Welcome home."

Ah. This is it.

It has to be worth a try.

Shall I take the keys
and get a set cut for you?

Yes. I'd come with you
but I'll be late on duty if I don't fly.

- Gosh, yes. It's twenty to.
- Twenty to?

I thought it was
about quarter past.

Oh, I must have got water in my watch.

- Take my bike.
- Are you sure?

Park it outside the nurses' home.

I'll fetch it before my shift tonight.
No one will ever know.

And here, take this as well.
Don't want you catching cold.

You really are a sort of angel.

The tragedy is
no one will ever know that, either.

Right. Let's go.

Oh.

The London Hospital,
Accident Department.

Good afternoon.
I'm inquiring about a Miss Delia Busby.

We believe she may have been brought
to you following a cycling accident.

Of course. Please hold.

Such a nice young woman, too.

Her mother and father
will be beside themselves.

And they live miles away, in Wales.

Hello?

Are you a relative?

No, I'm a friend.

Information can only be given
to a patient's next of kin.

Of course. Thank you.

- Any news?
- No.

Would you like me to run you
to The London in my car?

They're only letting her see
her nearest and dearest.

You know what the rules are like.

Sugar?

No, thank you. Like my Pa always says,
I'm sweet enough.

And I don't know why
you've come round interfering.

Because I know what it's like
to find oneself in a jam.

How hard it is to say
the things one should, or wishes to.

This is our family home, Dad.

This is where we grew up.

Marlene. We didn't move in here
until I was demobbed in 1946.

Your mother never even lived here.

It was just you, me, Dolly
and that terrier we had.

I know. Well, this is where
we came together again.

Where we put the Blitz behind us.

And for that very reason,
Mum was everywhere.

How could she be, Marlene?

We lost everything
when that bomb dropped.

I went back to the bomb site
with my Auntie Peg after the funeral.

I made her take me.

I thought there'd be stuff
lying round in the rubble,

like souvenirs.

It had already been bulldozed.

Every time I come home, there's
another gap where something used to be.

Ain't that the truth.

Sometimes I think
it's only the river that stays the same.

Can I help you, dear?

Are you Delia's mother?

Yes, I am.

I was hoping to see her. I'm Patsy.

Patsy? Oh, of course.

You're the lady she helps at Cubs.

I had to ring for the nurse.

She has these... spells.

Seizures, the doctors call them.

On account of the knock to her head.

Oh. Hello, Marlene.

I'm not going to ask you
to be nice to me, Violet.

I was selfish and I was in the wrong.

You could fill a whole page
of your ledger

adding up the wrongs I've done.

I don't think we've got
anything to discuss.

I'd like you to talk to my Dad.

Because my mum would tan my hide

if she knew
I tried to stop him being happy.

I believe in the films they say,
"Your place or mine?"

I'd live in a ditch if it was with you.

Correct answer.

There's still some dirt from the road
around your fingernails.

Just by that little graze.

When they next give you a bed bath,

just get them to rub it away
with the corner of the flannel.

And a spot of antiseptic
wouldn't go amiss.

You sound a bit like a nurse.

Do I?

- Are you a friend of mine?
- Yes.

Have we been friends long?

A little while.

That's nice.

Have you got lots of friends?

No.

Are you a nurse?

No, cariad.

I'm your mam.

Oh.

Can you help this girl?

She's Patsy, cariad.

What's the matter?

She says she's my friend.

And it's making her cry.

The adverts make all sorts of
claims for these paper handkerchiefs

but I don't think
they'll ever catch on.

Tears just seem to melt them.

Nonnatus House, midwife speaking.

Will her memory come back?

No one will make us any promises.

So we're having to settle for hope.

She's dozing at the moment.

Her father's sitting with her for a bit.

He used to do that when she was a baby,

sit there looking
at her while she slept.

There'll be a lot of that
when we get her home to Wales.

Will the hospital let you do that?

The specialist suggested it.

She'll need looking after
all the hours God sends.

For a while, at least.

And we still don't know if the seizures
will be permanent.

Well, may I come visit?

Delia always says Pembrokeshire's
lovely when it's not raining.

Let's see how she does.

May I call from time to time?

We aren't on the telephone.
But I daresay you can write.

I know where these can go.

That's right.

That's right, sweetie, just rest.

I keep forgetting that
talking to her won't help.

It helps me.

Little pushes now, June, little pushes.

Little pushes. Little pushes.

That's it, that's it.

- That's it.
- I love you. I love you, June Dillen.

Success! Baby's head's born.

The head's born.

Baby's just turning.

One last big push for me, June.

That's it. That's it. Well done!

It's a boy, June.

It's a boy.

Hush, little one.

She wants him held up.

She says, "I love you.

"And your father loves you.

"And if you never hear his voice

"or if I never hear yours,

"just know that we love you

"from the bottom of our hearts."

Evening, Trixie.

Or should I say good morning?

Sometimes I can hardly tell.

You look tired.

I've just delivered a baby.

And I'm off to sit with a dying man.

Mmm.

That's life, really, isn't it?

Must hurry.

Is that the Samaritans?

Is it all right to call
if I don't want to die?

Because all I really want
is just to stop drinking.

Thank you, but there's someone
with her now.

And she's in a place of safety.

You are not alone, Trixie.

I promise you, you are not alone.

If you say you'll start praying,

I guarantee you now,
that will not stop me crying.

The world is full of healing, Trixie,

and people who care
and who will help you to find it.

Now, I don't want to go
overboard on folles dr�les.

I've got a blind spot for trimmings,
being a haberdasher.

You were frightfully disciplined
about the ric rac braid.

And I'm bally certain no one
would begrudge a bride a rose.

Coco Chanel used to say
that in order to be elegant,

before you leave the house you should
take off the last thing you put on.

What if the last thing was one's skirt?

Oh, you're right, though, Violet,
this is too plain.

I thought sky blue,
like your mother's eyes.

Maureen. Look who it is!

- My little man.
- Go to your mummy.

Mummy!

Hey.

One as necessary.
Just as you've been taking them.

I'll tell you what.

Every woman in the family way

is going to be
banging your doors down for these.

What's that magic stuff in them again?

The tablets are known as Distaval.

And the magic ingredient
is called Thalidomide.

You'd better get some more in.
I'm going to spread the word.

Shall we?

Thank you.

I am the daughter of a man who drank.

I am the daughter of a man
who fought in a war.

I heard him yelling at night

and I saw him crying.

But I knew how to make him smile,

I knew how to make him better.

And there were only
two things that could do that.

Me

and a bottle of Scotch.

I became a nurse. And a midwife.

I was needed.

And I needed them.

Because every time I delivered a baby,

I was right in the heart of a happy
family for one or two hours.

No matter that I always have to
go home on my own.

No matter that the one thing
that makes me feel better

is a glass of Scotch.

Or something like it.

There are so
many things like it.

Looking back, it seems to me my father
was quite unadventurous.

Do I have to say it now?

My name is Beatrix
but people call me Trixie.

And I am an alcoholic.

Sometimes it's hard to
distinguish between ends and beginnings.

Conclusions do not always hurt

and starting afresh
may not feel entirely happy.

Letting go brings peace

and turns the tide towards the future.

After the quiet ceremony Violet wanted,

the wedding party went not to her home
or to Fred's

but to a place
where everyone was cherished

and all doors and hearts were open.

Like the face of a devoted parent,

Nonnatus House was etched
with a little more time each year.

With each small shadow,

every fading grace,
it grew more beautiful

and was loved more than words can say.

Ripped By mstoll