Original subtitles

Ripped By mstoll

MATURE JENNY: Christmas is the celebration of a baby's birth.

It is the story of a mother's love, her fear, her faith,

and her determination. It tells of promises fulfilled,

a cradle rocked, a journey both concluded and begun.

It is the story of all that is cherished in a world where too little is known.

...and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.

We seek it here, we seek it there.

(COUGHING)

Indeed, one is obliged to ask oneself

if one is in pursuit of a comestible item, or the scarlet pimpernel!

Sister Monica Joan. Never mind that now.

Would you just carry on cutting out the greaseproof circles?

The mincemeat will be ready for the jars soon.

Are we going to get that tea in the clinical room or aren't we?

Oh, I'm sorry. I had a problem with the desiccated coconut.

Oh, if we have to wait much longer, you'll have a problem

with a desiccated corpse. Mine!

And lo! The angel Gabriel appeared, carrying the first tin of Quality Street

- of the season! - (TELEPHONE RINGING)

I'll get it.

Nonnatus House, midwife speaking.

- It's our twins case! - Oh!

Yes, yes, of course. Yes.

See? You all thought me a fool to persist in my endeavours.

But behold, I have located the brandy.

(COUGHING)

Now's the time to souse the Christmas pudding!

Just don't go sousing yourself into the bargain.

You give us enough gip when you're stone-cold sober!

Tea. Now. Then you and I are off on the ulcer rounds.

Good afternoon, everyone, and, er, thank you,

- boys and girls... - Shh, quiet.

...for being nice and quiet whilst the babies were being christened.

The Cradle Roll service

- is a very special one... - Take one and pass it down.

...because it's one of the few days of the year when all the children

in the parish get to come together to celebrate being part

of our big church family.

Nurse Gilbert, our Sunday school teacher, is going to bring

the children's choir to the front, where they'll sing

Silent Night to help us start our journey towards Christmas.

(RINGS BELL) Merry Christmas.

(SINGING OFF-KEY) ♪ Silent night, holy night

♪ All is calm, all is bright

♪ Round yon virgin mother and child

Rosemary McConlough, Doctor.

♪ Holy infant so tender and mild... ♪

I've never heard such a racket!

They were flat, they weren't singing together.

And one of them was picking his nose!

But they had nobody to follow. Why didn't you sing with them?

Because I'm practically a baritone since my voice broke.

- Excuse me, Mrs Turner? - Oh, Mrs Willens!

Wasn't that a lovely service? And the church looked immaculate,

you keep it so spick and span.

Oh, it's just elbow grease. Anyone could do it.

Begging your pardon, Mrs Turner, when the nurse came for the doctor,

were they called out to my niece?

I shouldn't say, really, but I believe they were!

Hard luck, sweetie. You fired the starter's pistol a bit too soon.

Nothing's on the move just yet.

But I've had enough! I want them out now!

No cheeking the nurse, young madam. She came into this world

shouting the odds and she's not stopped since!

Oh, come along, Rosemary. Let's see if we can get you a bit more comfortable.

The main thing is to get some rest

and remember that both babies are doing well.

(KNOCK AT DOOR)

How's she getting on, Eileen?

Stay nice and warm.

Walter sent some satsumas from his barrow.

No, it was a false alarm. We'll have them anyway.

Plenty more where they came from.

Oh, it's bitter. A nice cup of tea, I think.

(COUGHING)

Oh, no!

Sister?

Sister, can you answer me?

What on earth's that noise?

(WHISTLING)

Poor Eileen looked worn to a thread.

Rosemary's always been a madam.

Once she's had those twins, it's gonna be all hands on deck.

Family will rally round to help 'em. We always do.

Not sure I'm wanted.

Eat your grapes. Good for your kidney stones.

Kidney stones don't bother me any more.

Oh, love,

I dunno why you go to that bloomin' Cradle Roll service.

You end up in shreds every year!

How can I stay away, when Lorna's name's still on the list of members?

They don't rub it out, Walter, just cos she's not with us any more.

I know, love.

Rosemary's got two lovely matching cots for these new twins.

On the never-never, probably, but, oh, they do look smart.

I'm glad now I never offered her Lorna's cradle.

I'd have liked it to have had a new home.

A little life inside it.

Yeah, maybe not.

Sister Monica Joan's in bed with a fever and dosed up on aspirin.

Doctor's going to call tomorrow.

She sounded quite delirious when I went past her room.

Poor old thing. Would it be frightfully callous to enquire about the pudding?

(CHUCKLES) According to Sister Evangelina,

we'll be having Swiss roll with custard for dessert on Christmas Day.

She's in a perfectly savage mood. Purple cellophane!

I think this one has Nurse Mount's name on it.

Marvellous! The perfect accompaniment to a whisky nightcap.

You won't tempt me, I'm afraid.

Alcohol's perfectly beastly on the complexion.

Are there any coffee creams? I need them to take away the taste of the glue!

18 down, 24 four to go!

If you lick my stamps,

I'll give you what appears to be the only coffee cream in the tin.

(CHUCKLING)

One for Delia? How is she?

Well, I believe. Her mother hasn't written in a while.

Head injury can be a ghastly thing to recover from.

And she was in quite a bad way when they took her home to Wales.

Yes, she was.

Now where's that coffee cream?

Oh!

(LAUGHING)

Thank you.

I'm so glad you're here. I almost called you again.

Not I, nor he, who commands us all.

Get back into bed! Before the hot water bottle goes cold!

(KNOCK AT DOOR)

Come in any time you like!

Nanny put a hot brick to my feet.

I knew it was winter then,

when it leached the smell of starch out of the sheets.

Now sit down!

Temperature of 102, coughing like a drain,

and dotty as a two-bob watch.

I can see that.

(COUGHING)

Ow!

You're gonna have to lay off the mince pies, Fred Buckle,

or never mind splitting your trousers,

you're not gonna fit in this Santa suit at all.

Well, the kiddies leave them out for me.

They'd be disappointed if they didn't disappear.

Yeah, but you're not the real Father Christmas, remember,

you're just one of his helpers.

Yeah, but I'd look shocking in an elf suit!

(GIGGLES)

I could do with an elf or two to help me in the shop this afternoon.

I've got the entire Christmas raffle display to put in my window,

or I'll have half the Poplar shopkeepers baying for my blood.

I wish I'd never said I'd take the responsibility.

It'll be good for trade, though, won't it?

Well, I've only donated a couple of balls of wool and some nappy pins.

The rest of the space is all taken up with other people's stuff.

Tins of powdered milk and I dunno know what.

Well, that's not very season-of-goodwill.

Ow!

Pass me the scissors. I'm not biting this, it's too close to your backside.

A high temperature and a nasty cough.

But what we don't want at her age is pneumonia.

We've been more worried about her confusion

than her physical health lately.

Exactly! If she goes any further down doolally hill

we won't be able to look after her.

I've prescribed Distaval as a sedative.

It'll calm her down, and perhaps make her behaviour less erratic.

Distaval won't bring our Christmas pudding back from the dead.

Or from the ceiling.

We're about to go into Compline. I'll look in again afterwards.

Very well. But there's no need for you to linger.

Sister Monica Joan and I have established the rules of play,

and thus far she is abiding by them.

My mother's hands were cold like yours.

Mother's been looming rather large this evening, I'm afraid.

That's often the way, when she's unwell. These sometimes help.

Mmm?

They are family heirlooms, and she cherishes them.

Oh.

I can't consume that.

The tang of urine assaults me even from the plate.

It isn't kidney, Sister Monica Joan. It's liver.

And it's terribly good for you.

And if you eat quickly, we can listen to Desert Island Discs

while you eat your semolina.

I have tired of the wireless, there are too many jumbled voices.

I like television better.

There isn't a television at Nonnatus House.

There's one in the window of the new shop by the tunnel. Have you seen it?

No.

We have one at home.

But I won't be seeing that for quite some time.

Why is that, child?

Don't encourage her! There will be ample salt in that gravy already.

You don't need tears in it as well.

I can't go home for Christmas, Sister Monica Joan.

We're going to be too busy. Sister Julienne told me this morning.

But the very purpose of Christmas is to revisit where one's roots lie!

Was Christ himself not born in Bethlehem

because his father and mother were called

to their birthplace for the census?

All should head homeward, if their natal home still stands.

My natal home was razed to the ground

when they made improvements to the Kirkstall Road in Leeds.

I'm rather looking forward to filling the mead cup

and draining the barrel in Nonnatus House.

Figuratively speaking, of course.

We'll have a splendid time.

And so the bishop said that BBC television want to film a carol service

in an ordinary London church and broadcast it on Christmas Day.

How nice.

Well, I think it would be more than nice.

I think it will be wonderful! For the whole of the parish.

Our parish?

I'm sorry. I should've made that clear.

Well, I think it sounds tremendously jolly.

And the children will certainly enjoy it.

But filming, Mr Hereward? In a church?

My sentiments exactly! Is nothing sacred?

To my mind, Sister Evangelina, Christmas is the most sacred festival of all.

And sharing a religious service with millions of people

is a really good way to remind them of that.

Not to mention frightfully glamorous.

I rest my case. People have forgotten what Christmas is all about.

Mrs Turner has kindly agreed to take the children's choir in hand.

And I was thinking we could create a crib scene,

and place a real newborn baby in the manger.

(SCOFFS)

One of our newborn babies?

Yes.

I was rather hoping to see Nurse Gilbert.

The producer of the television broadcast, Barrington Swann,

is coming to inspect the church tomorrow, and...

Mr Hereward.

Tomorrow is a very busy day. And Miss Gilbert will be fully occupied.

I was led to expect more in the way of ornamental plasterwork.

Always photographs so well.

Still, I see your Mrs Mopp is working wonders with the elbow grease.

A shiny bit of brass will always catch the arc lights.

Our cleaning lady is called Mrs Willens, not Mrs Mopp.

Whatever she's called, we'll have to add to the artistic presentation.

Seasonal floral arrangements, of course.

And, and the children's pageant is completely essential.

Do you mean the nativity play?

Ooh, nativity scene, I think. Don't you?

We mustn't over-face the viewing public.

But children are essential.

I was a kiddy performer myself, I know how they add to the sparkle.

And they must sing.

I have all that in hand.

And they must be in costume.

Mrs Turner has that in hand, too.

The aesthetics are vital.

We can't have anybody looking poor.

How dare he? Poplar may not be the richest parish in the country,

but not one mother would turn her children out

looking less than the very best she could.

I almost gave him his marching orders there and then.

Begging your pardon, Mr Hereward, but I'm glad you didn't.

Why, Mrs Willens?

He was almost as rude about the church as he was about the children.

Whom he hasn't even seen.

I'm not convinced he has any faith in us at all.

Yeah, well, it's not about his faith, is it?

Have a pink wafer.

I got them in for Mr High and Mighty,

but I decided they were stopping in the packet.

You should have one yourself.

You'll need to build your strength up if you're going to be helping us out.

Helping you out?

Mrs Willens. This carol service needs all the help it can get.

And with the number of children involved, so do I.

I want you to ask the headmaster's permission to put one on the notice board.

There are some lovely singers at the grammar school.

Yes, and they're mostly baritones and tenors.

I've put treble and boy soprano on the poster.

We need quality voices, male and female,

if we're not going to embarrass ourselves in front of the BBC.

Not to mention the entire nation.

Which is why we are going to have auditions,

and why we are going to advertise.

Good morning, Mrs Willens, Mr Willens.

Morning, Mrs Turner.

We've a busy day ahead.

By the way, the parish manger's gone missing,

and we'll need to find an orange box.

Perhaps Mr Willens can oblige?

Now, run and catch your bus.

Can you go a bit higher, Violet?

Yeah, bit, bit higher. Yes, perfect.

Yeah. Thanks, Violet.

What do you think you are doing?

Preparing for Christmas with a joyful heart.

I shall need all of this when our tree is purchased.

However tardy its arrival proves.

No tree until the week before Christmas.

You know how we do things. And it does not involve tinsel.

Auntie Iris!

Rosemary, what are you doing out of doors?

I can't settle. I can't sit.

All I can do is clean. I thought I was turning into you.

(LAUGHS)

Do you fancy coming with me to the clinic?

Aren't you going with your mum?

She's gone out west to pick up the pram set.

- Oh. - Nothing but the best for these two.

Oh, come on, you'll enjoy it.

(BABY CRYING)

Mrs Turner said the rash has developed since this morning?

I only came in to bring the baby for his needles!

I never saw the rash, I thought he was just a bit off-colour.

I'm afraid it's a bit more serious than that.

We can postpone the baby's vaccinations, but I want you to go straight home.

Measles. That's the fourth case in a week.

I'll notify the medical officer.

Other practices are having the same thing.

I know. And the last thing we need is an epidemic.

I just wish there was a vaccine! I know they're testing one.

But it takes so long.

I can't get on that bed, it's too high!

And I can't lie down in any case

cos it makes me feel as though I'm suffocating.

You don't have to lie down until Doctor comes in.

But if we can just get your bottom onto the bed.

You'll have more luck with a hoist and winch from down the dockyard.

(LAUGHING)

- Oh, no! - Oh, yes!

Have I wet myself?

I hope not. This is a good pair of nylons. I'll be right back.

Whoever cleaned up after that explosion wants horsewhipping.

It's insanitary, having Christmas pudding clinging to the walls.

I suspect you're right. It may well attract mould,

and we don't want spores falling into the food.

Are you sure you don't want me to get up on the table, Sister?

No, no, no, you save your strength for your trip to see the Christmas lights!

I should very much relish the chance to see the lights myself.

The Sunday school children would love that.

And there will be plenty of room on the bus.

I'm sorry, I'm going to exercise my power of veto.

You know my views on dicky chests and cold winds.

And we need you at Compline, Sister.

Sister Mary Cynthia is at the twin birth. She won't be back tonight.

You speak to me and of me as though I am a child.

No, we speak to you and of you as though you have been ill.

And you can explain this space age monstrosity whenever you like!

It's a wreath for the front door. Sister Monica Joan designed it herself.

When are you planning to put it up?

Sister. We have all agreed there will be no tree or decorations

in Nonnatus House until December the 18th, as is our custom.

Advent will take precedence in the meanwhile.

But we are out of kilter with the world.

Every other window is brilliant with light,

every other home bedecked and splendid.

Only we await our tree and we will never know the joy of television.

Television?

It is the portal to much happiness.

I have seen it work its magic on a hundred children's faces.

There are plenty of children round here who don't need that sort of magic.

They need a square meal and clean clothes and a loving hand.

Not spending money hand over fist on television sets and tinsel.

Children incline to happiness.

Even I knew delight and transportation as a child,

and my youth was not a happy one.

Not happy? You never knew what hardship meant.

Sister. Please.

I did! I did know!

But perhaps my mind is too misshapen to recall it now.

Well, all I can say is, if the cap fits, wear it.

(SIGHS)

And I don't want to see any more of this until the 18th of the month.

All aboard! All aboard the Christmas bus!

Ho, ho, ho! Come ride with us! Lights and shops and fun we'll see!

Ho, ho, ho! Come ride with me! Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas!

Really, Fred, it's worthy of the Poet Laureate.

(LAUGHING)

What have you got in your bucket? Reindeer food?

No. Sawdust. I've two famous vomiters,

and one who can't be trusted with the waterworks.

Oh.

FRED: Come on, then, you stragglers.

You're married to the lady in the sewing shop.

Ah, no, erm, that fella is a cousin of mine. Same shape face.

Well caught!

You coming, Mum and Dad? No? Right, on you get.

Ho, ho, ho!

I see you're still using the old newspaper trick.

Sister Julienne did that when I had my daughter.

We've saved many a mattress this way, Mrs Willens.

Still doing the enemas, too.

Do I have to? I thought only the old ones did that.

We're older than we look, Rosemary.

Practically ready for our pensions.

(LAUGHS)

(COUGHING)

♪ If you're happy and you know it and you really want to show it

♪ If you're happy and you know it clap your hands

♪ If you're happy and you know it stomp your feet

♪ If you're happy and you know it stamp your feet... ♪

Anyone for a sherbet lolly?

No takers, I'm afraid. Tina's not feeling very well.

Oh, dear. Will we be needing the sawdust?

No, she says she just has a headache. She's quite hot, too.

Well, you can have one if you like.

Thank you.

Yellow and pink. The thing that fascinates me most about these

is that they're so pale until you lick them.

And then their colour changes completely. I love them.

Most people look on lollies like they're a childhood thing.

I don't! I've no pride and no shame when it comes to confectionery.

You should try one.

Yellow and green.

See? You don't know what you've been missing.

Take a deep breath, Rosemary.

And another. That's it.

Just take in some air.

Now push, Rosemary! Well done! Well done!

(SCREAMING)

Well done!

Well done!

(BABY CRYING)

What is it?

It's a girl!

And she's beautiful.

A girl? I wanted a girl.

You might have two, soon.

Perhaps Auntie Iris can look after this one in the meantime.

Sweetpea.

I'm glad I stayed. The next one's breech.

(INDISTINCT CONVERSATION)

What are you staring at, cariad?

That bus. I'm... Not used to being back in London.

I thought you were having one of your spells.

I don't have them any more.

Well, you haven't for a while, praise the Lord.

We'll have a very happy Christmas.

And then say goodbye to this city for good.

♪ If you're happy and you know it touch your nose

♪ If you're happy and you know it touch your nose ♪

(GROANING) Can't the doctor just pull it out?

Oh, you can do this on your own.

Doctor's more than happy standing there twiddling his thumbs.

Lean back into me, if it helps you to concentrate.

Just keep your bottom on the edge of the bed.

That's it, sweetie. Gather your strength.

That's it! That's it! That's it!

That's it! Keep it coming! Keep it coming! We have a leg!

That's it! And another leg!

Doctor, could you possibly pass me the towel, please?

This one's a boy, Rosemary. (ROSEMARY LAUGHING)

Nurse Franklin's just wrapping baby in the towel, Rosemary,

just to keep him warm and calm.

Well, where's his head?

The head will be born soon. You're doing so well.

Rosemary, you're going to gently feel me turning baby quarter of a circle.

That's it, that's it. Just breathe.

Now, we're going to let baby's feet hang just for a moment,

so that his own body weight helps him in the right direction.

Oh, God, have I missed it?

That's it! That's it! Keep pushing! (ROSEMARY SCREAMING)

That's it! You clever girl!

Top work!

A beautiful boy, Rosemary.

You have one of each.

One of each?

The little girl came first and she's gorgeous.

Oh, hand her over!

(BABY CRYING)

I'm a grandma. A grandma. How about that?

How about me being a mum?

That as well, obviously.

Oh, we're gonna be quite the double act, you and me.

(BABY CRYING)

Oh, I'm sorry, Mrs Lewis. Poor Tina isn't feeling very well.

She's burning up. If I'd have known I'd have brought the push chair.

Don't worry, Nurse Gilbert. I'll take Tina home.

I'd give her an aspirin, and do call the doctor if you're worried.

I'm sure he'll come out.

Wakey wakey, campers.

(CHILDREN PLAYING)

(BELL RINGING)

Hello, Iris. I heard Rosemary had the twins.

What a lovely Christmas you'll all have.

Yeah, won't we?

There. Nappy pins. One blue set, and one pink.

You give those to that clever niece of yours, with my congratulations.

That's kind of you, Violet. She'll be thrilled.

She'll be even more thrilled if she wins

that layette I'm displaying in my window.

It's got everything in it that a new mum could ask for.

And it's all in aid of the maternity home.

Oh, go on, then.

Best have two, seeing as it's twins.

84 and 85.

Nothing like babies for making people smile.

Some people, maybe.

Oh, Iris. Me and my walloping, thoughtless mouth.

I'm sorry.

No, I didn't mean to snap, Violet. It's just...

It's Christmas, tricky time of year.

Oh, it would be. Poor little Lorna. And poor you.

You remembered her name?

I couldn't forget it. Any more than I could forget that smile she had.

Y'know I look at her photograph sometimes and I think,

"I wish I'd called her something happier."

"Lorna." It seems a sad name somehow.

There was nothing sad about your little girl, Iris. Even at just three months.

Four months.

I'll have a triple hook brassiere expander, if you would, please, Violet.

White, buff or tea rose?

Hot water bottle. Stone cold, and exactly where I left it.

- This bed hasn't been slept in. - We should have checked.

The necklace has gone, and so has the sapphire ring.

I must telephone the Mother House.

Sister Julienne, you must telephone the police.

I thought it might be scarlet fever.

You know, she seems poorly enough.

No. It's measles. You'll need to dose her with aspirin every four hours.

Start her with these. I'll write you a prescription for the rest.

Can't she have antibiotics?

They won't work.

There's no need to look flustered, Iris.

All you have to do is ask each child their name, age, and address,

write it down, then tell them to sit on a chair and wait their turn.

Oh, what about the juice and biscuits?

They can have juice and biscuits when they've auditioned, and not before.

Can I have a biscuit now?

I don't think I can get through this without a boost to my kinetic energy.

No, you can't. We don't want crumbs on the keys.

Quick. Grab yourself a Gypsy Cream.

Everybody must go to the lady at the desk

and give their name, age, and address before they sit down

and wait until they're called.

And no dogs!

It's a singing dog.

If it can't sing Silent Night I'm not interested.

Would you say the necklace and the ring

were worth a great deal of money, Sister?

They were family heirlooms.

I wish I could say they were of purely sentimental value,

but Sister Monica Joan was not at all sentimental about her relatives.

And they were extremely rich.

Sister Julienne, did anything unusual happen yesterday?

Anything that might have upset her, or caused her to change her routine?

We live in close quarters at Nonnatus House, as you know.

Very like a family, in fact.

And like all families, we have our disagreements.

Congratulations on being chosen for the choir, everyone.

And well done for getting here on time.

We're just going to rehearse for half an hour

before you all set off for school today.

Mrs Willens will have some hot Ribena ready for you when we finish.

Thank you, Timothy.

♪ In the bleak midwinter

♪ Frosty wind made moan

♪ Earth stood hard as iron

- ♪ Water like a stone... ♪ - Where have you gone?

It's now been 36 hours since anyone has seen her.

Her habit and her veil make her distinctive, in this area at least.

But if she's gone further afield, she may not be recognised.

She's extremely elderly, and she has been ill.

Sister Monica Joan! Sister!

They're definitely hers.

Is there anywhere else she could've gone?

I tried to telephone her nephew. He lives in Richmond.

But his housekeeper said he's skiing in Switzerland

and can't be reached. And she isn't at the Mother House.

It's as though she's just vanished.

Nobody just vanishes, Sister Julienne.

That's very reassuring, Sergeant.

Sir. I found these in a bin on the Commercial Road.

Anything could've happened to her. It was dark when she left.

And the streets around the docks are deserted after 6:00.

She probably thought her habit would keep her safe.

I don't think she gave safety or danger a second thought.

I think she was just excited about Christmas,

and upset that she wasn't allowed to be.

The situation is troubling enough, Nurse Gilbert,

without speculation, gossip, and histrionics thrown into the mix!

I will thank you to get on with your work!

MAN: I'll be seeing you later, then.

Get your Christmas trees here, all shapes and sizes.

I want a Norwegian Pine. No bigger than seven foot tall,

and no more than 15 bob.

Pats.

Where on earth have you been?

Didn't wanna knock on the door. I didn't wanna be asked in,

see you for the first time with everybody watching.

Wait here. I need to change out of my uniform.

I couldn't write at all, to begin with.

Not for the first month.

But after that, I sent three letters.

My mother posted them.

Or maybe she didn't.

I would have answered if I got them.

You know I would've answered.

Does she suspect?

She thinks you're my friend from training school.

- Oh, yes. The lady she helps at Cubs. - I promise you, that's all she thinks.

But she doesn't want me coming back to London to live.

Or to nurse.

Why not? If you're well enough.

In her mind, I'll never be well enough.

I've got an appointment at the London, to see Mr Hendry.

The neuro chap?

And then another with the rehabilitation people.

They'll tell me then when I can go back to work. If I can.

It might be months.

You look tired.

I lose my train of thought sometimes.

It's better than losing you.

We're staying with my aunt in Hornsey, did I tell you?

No.

Till after Christmas.

I think Mum's hoping I'll see the horror of London through fresh eyes,

but the minute they went off to their Welsh language carol service,

I was on the bus to Poplar.

I'll be on the bus back to Hornsey soon.

I dunno know what I'm supposed to say to that.

You're supposed to say, "Don't disappear again."

You're supposed to say, "Meet me again, write to me.

"Don't break the thread.

"Let's pick up all the broken pieces,

"let's pick up where we were."

Can't I just say, "Come back"?

Yes.

- Keep warm. - I will.

Telephone me when you've seen the doctor.

Yes!

Hang on, mate. What's that?

MAN: What? Oh, my God.

Ere, get the hook.

MAN: It's an old lady.

I see.

You still there, guv?

Yes.

You'll need to check your missing persons record.

I'm aware of the procedure. Thank you.

- Patrick. - What's happened?

It's little Tina Lewis. Her mother called. It's urgent.

(DOOR BELL RINGING)

I assume motorised transport to the mortuary may not go amiss.

I was gonna drive them in the police car, Nurse Crane.

Allow me to spare you the encroachment on your time.

Nobody here has done anything criminal.

She was all right last night! She, she was talking.

She said there were little men in the wallpaper.

Tina... Tina?

She's unconscious. I'm sending for an ambulance.

Well, she's not gonna die? She can't die. It's only measles!

It's never "only" measles, Mrs Lewis.

Just give the attendant the word, when you're ready.

(SOFTLY) Amen.

We're ready.

It isn't her.

Poor woman.

(SOBBING)

Poor, poor woman.

♪ Enough for him whom cherubim

♪ Worshipped night and day

♪ A breast full of milk and a manger full of hay ♪

Now, see, that's where I want the descant to come in,

it always seems to peter out there.

- Well, that's because of the words. - What's wrong with the words?

Well, there's just a word that no-one likes singing. It's in that line.

And it begins with a B.

Breast?

(CHUCKLES)

- Dad! - (PHONE RINGING)

I'll get that.

Dad. I've gone bright red. In the privacy of my own home.

Hello, I'll fetch him now, hold the line.

It sounds like another measles case. Joey Minton.

And he's in my choir.

Tonight, at Compline, we will once again say special intercessions

for the safe return of Sister Monica Joan.

And we will also pray for the lost soul recovered from the Thames this morning.

MARY CYNTHIA: Yes, Sister.

And that's all I can manage to say at the moment.

Sister Mary Cynthia...

Perhaps you would lead us in Grace.

Dost think because thou art a rat,

there shall be no more cakes and ale?

(COUGHING)

(COWS MOOING)

What a caterwauling do we keep here!

(COUGHING)

Oh, good. Can you go straight through,

and help Nurse Gilbert in the delivery room?

Doctor's been delayed at the Board of Health,

and we've a lady in there with an occipital posterior.

Nothing like manning the gas and air to start the day.

Trixie. Is there any news of Sister Monica Joan?

How can a trail go cold like that?

When someone has a home, and when they're loved.

The Board of Health have approved the quarantine regulations.

Hendy Street and St John's schools are breaking up early for Christmas,

and all children's groups are suspended till New Year.

You did the right thing to push for that.

I'm glad you think so. Because the suspended groups include your choir.

- No... - I'm sorry, Shelagh.

(SIGHS)

But I never want to put another unresponsive child into an ambulance.

Mr Swann. I appreciate your disappointment.

But we can't magic up a children's choral performance out of thin air.

And I can't bring the magic of Christmas all the way to Poplar

wrapped in paper and string.

You have to furnish the sparkle, Reverend.

Those were the terms of the deal.

We're in the grip of a measles epidemic.

I had chickenpox when I was doing Peter Pan with Madame Ada's Champagne Babes.

I still managed to play the Princess Theatre nightly!

Have you never heard the phrase, "The show must go on"?

It's not a show, Mr Swann, it's an act of worship.

Until somebody films it.

And if nobody films it, you might as well worship in a darkened room

with all the doors locked.

What do you mean, if nobody films it?

Mr Swann, I think that what Mr Hereward hasn't made clear is that

the children have been quarantined for the good of their health.

And I'm sure you don't wish to see that compromised.

Of course not, but...

And I'm sorry you weren't taken better care of as a child.

No-one should have forced you to go on as Peter Pan.

I wasn't even Peter Pan. I was Smee.

Children matter, Mr Swan.

And they are at the very heart of Christmas.

But if you put them at risk just to prove that point,

you make a nonsense of it all.

What do you propose we do, Mrs Turner?

Simply bring your cameramen

and your lighting equipment to the church as planned.

And we will give you a show to be proud of.

- Mrs Turner? - Hello, Iris.

I've finished the first of the shepherds last night.

I think the tunic's come up lovely,

just I wanted you see it before I got the rest sewn up.

I got two mums flat out on Mary and Joseph,

and two more sneaking the angels into work with them.

They're seamstresses down the curtain factory.

Naughty girls.

They're good girls. It was a good cause.

Was a good cause?

- Shall I bring it in now? - Yes!

Make sure you take it off the barrow.

Oh, he will dither. Thing is, Mrs Turner,

you need something better than an orange box

if that manger's gonna be on the telly.

- I know, but... - I'm proud of this church.

And I've put all the love and care

I couldn't spend on Lorna into looking after it.

Made sure its face is clean and its hair's brushed,

always made sure it was turned out in its proper Sunday best.

Maybe Lorna wouldn't have liked me fussing.

She might've been one of them little madams who wriggles

and says the brush hurts.

But I think she would've liked you to have this.

I've spent 22 Christmases not letting any joy in

because I had no child to share it with.

This year's been different.

Has it?

Well, I stopped holding out against the happiness, didn't I?

And I found out that Christmas was meant for me, too.

I pretended to Mr Swan that the children weren't the most important thing,

yet I just don't know how I'm going to replace them.

Oh, I don't either.

You keep that cradle.

Took me too long to let it go.

- (KNOCKING ON DOOR) - (DOOR UNLOCKING)

- Can I help you? - You may stand aside and admit me.

My parents had a run of woeful butlers.

But none that ever wore their hat indoors.

Mind all this stuff. I wouldn't like you to trip.

There were once a pair of wolfhounds here,

Romulus and Remus.

They sprawled on the floor in semblance of a rug,

and caused more mishaps than any mess of cycle parts.

I think that might've been before our time.

Almost all the world was before your time, child.

Though I see from the badges you affect,

you are concerned to see it last a little longer.

We're squatting here while we protest at the Aldermaston base.

This was a school for a bit, but it shut,

and they can't sell it because there are nuclear weapons two miles

up the road.

This was always a house of discord and attrition.

I was almost never happy here. But it was my home.

I shall need a hot brick for my feet.

So you want the midwives of Nonnatus House to sing instead of the children?

Wearing our uniforms and our habits.

I almost didn't like to come and ask you.

It seems frivolous, and stupid to be fretting about a carol service

when Sister Monica Joan is missing.

And that's without the television element.

I do know you were always uneasy about that.

I was. But it sometimes seems to me the older I get, the more I have to learn.

We get so much out of love.

We find strength in it and courage.

Love is our foundation and our fuel.

But if we don't show enough of it...

No, Sister. No. You are not to blame for Sister Monica Joan running away.

Then we might as well not feel any love at all.

And that is why I am here choosing clothes so a woman who drowned,

who didn't even have a name, can be buried with some evidence that someone,

somewhere cared.

And that is why I'm going say "yes" to singing in your choir.

I offered her some of that lentil risotto, but she didn't want to know.

I had a bit more luck with the Eccles cakes.

Should we send for a doctor?

We aren't registered with one. We could take her to hospital, if she gets worse.

I shall be taken nowhere.

It was effort enough to make my way here,

- now that I am home, I am quite content. - But, Antonia...

It seems strange, to hear my name again, within these walls.

Antonia.

I have come home to be counted.

Do you suppose it's all right for us to feel excited about the broadcast?

If Sister Monica Joan were here, she'd be more excited about it than anyone.

We should enter into the spirit of it, for her sake.

Exactly.

Barbara, you must let me give you a make-up lesson.

The television lights can be frightfully cruel to one's complexion.

We won't even be able to see ourselves perform anyway.

Unless we stand outside the electrical shop and peer in through the window.

I suppose my family will see me.

They'll be watching the broadcast when it's screened on Christmas Day.

Pan-Stik, that's it. I promise you. Just one layer of Pan-Stik,

and some rouge and a teensy lick of mascara.

Trixie, Barbara doesn't need mascara.

Oh, some lipstick might be nice.

With a touch of Gay Geranium you'd look quite like Jean Simmons.

The young Jean Simmons, obviously.

Haven't been to the cinema for years.

Behold, I bring tidings of great joy. We have a truncated house-call list

this evening, so we can finish early to attend choir practice.

(CHEERING AND EXCLAIMING)

All right, all right, your enthusiasm is duly noted,

now let's turn our minds back from our performance to our patients.

Nurse Mount...

(GARGLES)

Mm.

You've made me swallow it.

It's meant to be a gargle to lubricate my tubes.

Mrs Turner recommended it, after rehearsal.

My singing is rather rusty.

I'd have recommended engine oil.

I'm not going to quarrel with you.

Not at Christmas, not with everything hanging over us like this.

You mean Sister Monica Joan?

Oh, yes, I could kick myself. I really could!

If we get her back safely she can put up next year's tree on Easter Sunday

if she likes.

I just keep running through everything I said.

I keep running over everything she said.

When she was ill. Delirium's always interesting.

Sometimes the truth comes out.

- Was she talking about her mother? - Mostly.

She was talking about her childhood.

About the house she lived in, and what they did when it was cold.

It must have been on her mind,

because the next day she mentioned it again.

The house?

She said everyone should go home for Christmas,

that was why Jesus was born in Bethlehem.

Something about that being its true meaning.

(ATTEMPTS TO SING)

(GASPS)

I know where she is.

Morning, Sister...

Sister Monica Joan. I know where she is. Here. I've written it all down.

No! I'm sorry. This really doesn't say "manger" to me.

It isn't supposed to. It's supposed to say "cradle".

Something every mother watching is going to recognise.

Just as they'll recognise the new-born baby that we'll place there.

Will it be a good looking new-born baby?

We don't know yet. We haven't been to the maternity home to pick one.

(SCOFFS)

- Yes. - I'll make sure the information

- is passed on. - Thank you.

An Inspector from the Berkshire Constabulary is gonna call me back

in due course.

"Due course"? She's been missing for days,

- and she's nearly 90! - This address is out of my area, Sister.

It has to be referred. I'm just as worried as you.

But those are the regulations.

Regulations! One day, Sergeant Noakes,

when you're a bit less wet behind the ears,

you will realise there are regulations and there is common sense!

Stop! Wait!

Morning, Sister! What happened to your bike?

Nothing. But pedal power isn't going to get me all the way to Berkshire!

Berkshire? I've got a van full of Christmas trees.

Go!

I am reconciled to the lady on the right's habit.

It smacks somewhat of the Virgin Mary, which is nothing if not fortuitous.

But this... The hat, the mackintosh?

Oh, we won't be wearing our macs.

And the cardigans are really very Christmassy!

Glorious Technicolour has not come to the BBC yet, dear.

And this fabric is terribly limp.

Oh, they're midwives. The uniforms get washed a lot.

Is there the smallest chance of frilly little caps?

Oh! Quite a big one, actually.

And if you stump up for more broderie anglaise,

they could be very frilly indeed.

I shall be starting on your "ensemble" in a moment.

Mrs Turner.

Iris! Whatever's the matter?

(PANTING) I woke up feeling proper rotten.

I had a kidney stone last year.

I reckon it's come back.

And it would be today, when there's so much to do.

Today's just the rehearsal.

And the church looks beautiful.

(MOANS PAINFULLY)

I'm taking you to see Doctor.

(BREATHES SHAKILY)

WOMAN: Antonia. Antonia!

Nanny found the Bible in your room again!

Antonia. Try to drink something.

There was a piano in here,

but I imagine you used it for firewood.

You must take in some fluids or we'll have to take you to hospital.

I will not go.

The story is concluded.

I was born in this house,

and am content to meet my Maker here.

(PANTING FAINTLY)

Have you passed any blood recently?

No. I've had the change. I had it early.

I meant in your urine.

No.

I have been going more than usual though.

Oh, I feel a bit sick.

The pain's in my back, mostly.

(CRIES OUT IN PAIN)

Iris, dear.

When you're ready, we're going to get you to your feet

and going to help you across to the maternity home.

Maternity home?

You're going to have a baby.

When?

Very soon.

(STAMMERING) I, I don't, I, I...

I don't feel safe.

(CRYING) When I had my Lorna, Sister Julienne said the most important thing

was to feel safe.

I'll ring Nonnatus House.

(WAILS)

Will you please put your foot down, before I put it down for you!

I'm driving down dangerous country lanes.

There might be rabbits. Or sheep.

- (PANTING) - Iris. Iris.

I know this is hard to get to grips with, I know.

(STAMMERING) I'm 46. How can I not have known?

You're not the first woman this has happened to.

It's rare, but you're not alone.

But will it be all right? How's it gonna be all right?

Everything will be all right, Iris.

I promise you.

Sister Julienne?

You delivered my Lorna.

Yes, I did.

And I've often remembered her in my prayers.

I never thought I'd have another child.

I just, I kept loving her.

And you always will.

Love is not going to be halved, but doubled.

(PANTING)

(CRYING OUT)

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

Another strong, steady push.

That's it, that's it! Yes!

Perfect! Perfect!

Baby's head's stopped slipping back now. It will be with us soon.

Your husband's arrived now, Iris.

Doctor Turner's just bringing him up to date with events.

(CRYING OUT)

That's it. Nice, steady drag.

(BREATHES SHAKILY)

This is the place.

(VEHICLE PASSING)

(CRYING)

Well done.

It's a little girl.

And she's beautiful.

Come here.

Come home.

Come to your mum.

(BABY CRIES)

Shh, shh.

(LAUGHS GENTLY)

SISTER EVANGELINA: I remember the days of old,

I meditate on all thy works, I muse on the works of thy hands.

I stretch forth my hands unto thee,

my soul thirsteth after thee,

as in a thirsty land.

Cause me to hear thy loving kindness in the morning,

for in thee do I trust.

BOTH: Cause me to know the way wherein I should walk,

for I lift up my soul unto thee.

Amen.

(FAINTLY) Amen.

Open wide.

I think you'll find it's my turn to start shouting the odds.

(DOOR OPENS)

Police have arrived.

They want to know if they should call an ambulance.

An ambulance is not required.

I have funds aplenty, since I pawned my mother's jewels.

You pawned them?

It was an interesting experience.

En route, I spent one highly displeasing night in a Gerrards Cross guesthouse.

Much capital remains.

I suggest we telephone a taxi.

Your chauffeur already awaits.

(LAUGHING)

I reckon, uh,

about six pound four ounces.

You're spot on!

Costermonger's never wrong.

(LAUGHING)

What we gonna call her, then?

No sad names, this time.

I'm gonna call her Joy.

Oh, that's a lovely name to give a child.

It's all we've got to give her.

I haven't got a vest or a mitten for the poor little scrap.

(TELEPHONE RINGING)

Nonnatus House, midwife speaking.

DELIA: I'm calling from a box on the corner of Whittle Street.

There's someone there in need of attention.

(DOOR BELL RINGS)

What you up to?

We're drawing the raffle tomorrow.

Tomorrow?

I could murder a bit of cheese on toast.

I've been driving through countryside.

Well, you can have cheese on toast when you've helped me out with this lot.

I want you to take out all the 84's and all the 85's.

I reckon this is immoral.

Well, keep at it.

And then you've a choice of Wensleydale, Cheddar, or Red Leicester.

They say the headaches will fade away.

I just need to rest for a little longer.

Not that my mother will let me do much else.

Will she let you come back to work?

I have to come back to work.

Back to London.

This is where my life is.

And where you are.

Deels. I'm not going anywhere.

But you can't come back if they don't give you a clean bill of health.

They will.

I'll make them.

(RAPPING ON GLASS)

MAN: People out here are waiting!

People in here are waiting.

Shelagh, it's here I found it.

Wait there.

(GARGLING)

(EXHALES)

I didn't know you could arrange flowers.

There's a lot about me that you don't know.

Beatrix Franklin, Midwife of Mystery.

(CHUCKLES)

In your own time, Mr Swann. Any ticket you like.

Number 85!

Ah! Fancy that.

(CAMERA SHUTTER)

Ooh!

MATURE JENNY: Sometimes, the route to joy is indirect,

our journey home not quite as we expected.

Look to the camera. Ready?

(CONTINUED) There is no magic star to guide our steps,

no ancient prophecies to predict our way.

The greatest gift is to know that we travel not alone,

but in the company of others.

That there are hands we can reach for and hearts to keep us warm.

Thank you.

(ENGINE STARTING)

(SHELAGH SINGING) ♪ Silent night

♪ Holy night

♪ All is calm

♪ All is bright

♪ Round yon virgin

♪ Mother and child

♪ Holy infant, so tender and mild

♪ Sleep in heavenly peace

♪ Sleep in heavenly peace

(CHOIR) ♪ Silent night

♪ Holy night

♪ Shepherds quake

♪ At the sight

♪ Glories stream from heaven above

♪ Heavenly hosts sing Hallelujah

♪ Christ the Saviour is born

♪ Christ the Saviour is born ♪

MATURE JENNY: Sister Monica Joan

never did redeem her mother's jewels from the pawn shop.

Instead, she purchased two things.

A replacement for the Christmas pudding

and a television set.

She deemed both essential for contentment at Nonnatus House.

If others disagreed, they gave no voice to their objections.

And the family gathered round,

watching their faces flicker black and white.

Their very presence in the room an act of love,

a welcome home.

Ripped By mstoll

ReSync by Midnight_Adder