Original subtitles

(Transcribed by TurboScribe.ai. Go Unlimited to remove this message.) I'll slice.

Are you going to the surgery?

You have the flu.

I've woken up feeling fine.

Look, have you seen my car keys?

I've got a list of cases as long

as your arm this morning.

Can you use a spare set?

Timothy took the spare set up to Edinburgh

by accident.

I put mine on the table when I

came in.

I'm going to have to go.

I'll have to find another means of transport.

You go, I'll keep on looking.

Can you post this on the way?

It's the children's parcel for Blue Peter.

I need to go and see Pete.

I don't care if the hospital say that

he's turning a corner.

I need to go and see him.

Not until you've shaken off this flu.

Think of this as the beginning of a

plan of action.

First and foremost, we must get the whole

family signed up with our local GP practice

for care and seek, most of all.

When she was born, they said that I'd

never rear her.

I was only 16.

But I done all right, didn't I?

Do this.

I take my hat off to you.

I had a show of a small pain.

Great big clump of it.

Have you been having any pains?

Oh, a few.

It doesn't look to me as though you've

come to any harm, Reggie.

Sometimes in life, things go wrong.

But we survive.

And all we can do is learn from

them.

I've learned not to get on the wrong

bus.

How are you feeling about it all now?

Sad.

Because I was hungry.

Well, you've already made up for that with

half a tin of shortbread Santas.

Oh.

Some people are hungry all the time.

It hurts your stomach and your heart.

And it's Christmas.

You're not a salesman.

Do you need to speak to a midwife?

I think I just need to speak to

anyone who's free to come and help me

to home delivery.

The mother's circumstances are absolutely pitiful.

Oh.

Hello.

Hello.

Would I be able to speak to nurse

Nancy Corrigan, please?

Are those flowers because you're a grateful patient?

Sort of.

She's about to go back to work for

the afternoon.

Mummy!

Mummy!

A man brought you flowers.

So I see.

Nancy, please come and have a cup of

coffee with me.

I'm working.

And like I said in the first place,

Christmas is a very busy time.

Angela, what are you three up to?

What postbox did you put the Blue Peter

parcel in?

Why do you want to know?

May I put my best stinky car in

it?

It was an accident.

And your car keys.

That was an accident too.

Oi!

Just a cup of coffee, Nancy.

And if you don't want coffee, I'll take

you for an ice cream.

Ice cream?

It's flame of December.

Nancy, sooner or later, I am going to

tell you that I love you.

I thought I might as well give advance

notice.

In the grand tradition of warning me of

romantic developments.

I thought it might change your mind about

the coffee stroke ice cream situation.

Tell your man to pull over and I'll

stop.

Pull over, mate.

Pastor Robinson has arrived and Sister Monica Jones

has the chapels ready.

I'm afraid I shall have to leave immediately

afterwards.

I have an appointment with the Board of

Health.

My bottom's cold.

I hate Blue Peter.

Mum gets cross when we say hate.

Not as cross as Dad got about the

car keys.

What time is the postman coming?

You are

welcome in our home.

Which has been your mother's.

Also.

Thank you for your kindness.

Come on, lad.

We're proud.

How long does it take for a baby

to be born?

Nobody knows, sweetie.

That's all part of the fun.

But all the time, all the way through

it, we know we're all going to get

a present at the end.

What sort of present?

Well, a baby.

What do you want most?

A little brother or a little sister?

A sister, because we've only got girls clothes.

I did not know Gertie during her time

on Earth.

But I had the privilege of being with

her after she departed it.

And in doing so, I met a woman

who was dignified and principled and steadfast.

Therefore, I respect and mourn her.

I wish our paths had crossed sooner.

This might have been a different tale.

I will remember this day.

I will remember it like I remember her

peeling potatoes with a wedding ring shining in

the muddy water.

And her tearing a strip off the teacher

when I get caned at school.

And crying when I took coal home to

her because it was midwinter and we had

no fire.

I thought then she was crying because she

was happy.

Now, I think she knew I nicked it.

Put me all warm for a while.

Loving my mother was the only decent thing

I ever did.

And I did it from further and further

away.

We used to joke that we'd forget each

other's names.

But we never did.

I never will.

I'm glad you found good people in the

end, Ma.

You deserve them.

Kiss you.

Please, please, can I have gas with the

next one?

Gas doesn't go well with a candle, sweetie.

And you're doing wonderfully well without it.

We need you to concentrate now, Dilys, and

push as hard as you can.

The baby's slipping back a little between contractions.

I think we might have to ask Gravity

for a helping hand.

Gravity's what they talk about in space.

I'm not a ruddy astronaut.

You won't be doing this on your own,

Dilys.

I'll cover the floor.

As you can see, we are now in

full possession of the deeds of Nanata's house.

And?

And this marks the end of our relationship

with a really quite remarkable and very generous

benefactor.

He was probably glad to be rid of

it.

The building is under a compulsory purchase order.

Which is yet to be enacted.

Meanwhile, our domiciliary and district services are more

essential than ever.

Have you come to ask for an increase

in fees?

I will next June when our arrangements are

reviewed.

For now, I simply need money to see

to the wet and dry rot and our

roof.

The building is scarcely fit for any purpose,

let alone as medical premises.

Its primary purpose seems to be as a

house of religion.

Yes, that has been the case since 1864.

Which is why your presence in this community

is wholly inappropriate in 1969.

Women don't want nuns delivering sex education, contraception,

or treatment for venereal disease.

And they don't want to ask them for

abortions.

We don't provide abortions.

You won't be providing anything if I have

my way.

You can ask for as much money as

you like when your review comes up.

But I warn you now, we will be

discussing other matters.

I'm scared I'm giving you germs.

That's the last thing you should be worrying

about, sweetie.

Just hang on to me and do as

Mrs Turner says.

This is the best thing you could possibly

have done, Dilys.

Baby is almost with us.

Catch it.

Catch it.

Promise me you'll catch it.

Oh, my little boy, Dilys.

Oh, my little boy.

After all them germs, when did I get

so lucky?

Me mucking up sick is funny.

Me being useless on the dodgems is funny.

Me telling you all about the orphanage and

doing all the nuns' voices, I can make

that funny too.

But becoming a mother at 16 is the

biggest and the most serious thing that's ever

happened to me.

I can never make that into a joke,

so I didn't tell you.

Were you scared of what I'd think?

I was scared I'd scare you off.

The only thing that would scare me off

is if you expected me to keep laughing

all the time.

Because that wouldn't be normal or genuine or

real.

I want this to be real, Nancy.

All of it.

Everything I felt ever since I first clapped

eyes on you and thought you were Miss

Higgins.

Because it's been like I'm dreaming we're on

drugs or something.

And you'd know all about that, being a

pharmaceutical salesman.

Do you think that this is all happening

quite fast?

Yeah, but I think it's meant to.

Yeah, me too.

Introduce me to your daughter.

Let me take you both out to the

funfair again.

Or the pictures.

Make it the pictures.

That's dangerous.

What are you playing at?

I'm playing everything is really something else.

And he's baby Jesus.

He's going to look a devil in all

that pink.

I'm going to look a devil in all

that pink.

Jack was taken straight back to prison.

I went with Gertie as far as the

grave in the council cemetery.

I took note of her position.

So one day he can go and put

flowers there.

Or we can.

She couldn't have flowers in here because of

Advent.

There's always one more thing that can be

done to make her hurt better, isn't there?

Always.

Put them on the desk.

A quick visit to the dodgems before we

all go home.

The Shaun sees her on her books now

and sister Veronica's books.

After Christmas they can apply to be rehoused.

And how long is that going to take?

I suppose it might help that little Karen's

so poorly.

But they're in for a wait.

I'm accustomed to seeing poverty.

But we're led to suppose that squalor is

dying out.

That we're poised on the brink of 1970.

And the whole world is on the up

and up.

But the sad fact is the world is

on the up and up.

And too many people are being left behind.

If I said I walked down Fifth Avenue

dreaming about testing urine, I'd be fibbing.

If I said I lie next to my

husband at night dreaming about riding my bike

on the cobblestones in heavy rain, I'd probably

go to hell because I'd be lying my

head off.

But today wasn't a dream.

The squalor of the room.

The pain of the mother.

The paraffin smell of those cheap candles were

all completely real.

And everything that came out of her labour

and our work was absolutely beautiful and true.

I can't stop wanting that.

I don't know that I can get back

to it.

I belonged in that room.

Just as I belong in this one.

I've learned to be good at not craving

things that hurt me.

But I can't stop craving the things that

make me whole.

Having no particularly gainful employment to attend to

between now and Christmas Day itself, I'm entirely

happy to spearhead the whole enterprise.

Oh, well, you're the only man I know

who knows one end of an oven glove

from the oven.

And there are so many lonely people out

there.

All the lonelier because they won't admit to

it.

How did loneliness ever come to be a

source of shame?

Because it's a kind of hunger.

And one way or another, hunger is always

seen as a failure.

Not this Christmas.

And not here.

Then this is how I propose that we

proceed.

We've been offered access to five domestic kitchens.

Nonato's house is kitchen number one.

Our esteemed mayor, Mrs. Buckle, has offered kitchen

number two.

Turner Residence, kitchen number three.

Miss Higgins Cottage furnishes us with kitchen four.

And bringing up the rear, Pastor Robinson, is

kitchen five.

Each to roast one large donated turkey.

A compliment to be assigned.

And here comes Harry with the invitations, fresh

from the ronio at the library.

The bit where it says, please bring your

own chair hasn't come out very clearly.

I might have to go over that in

Ben.

We'll do it quickly.

We need to get these out this afternoon.

Well, let me do that.

I'll be flying back tomorrow morning.

I'm missing it in Farmville.

Your uterus is reducing nicely.

You can take Epsom salts, if you wish,

to dry up your milk.

Or we can try and keep things going

until he comes home from hospital.

I'm hoping to see another improvement in him

when we go in later.

Have they given you any indications about his

future?

Only that there are no guarantees.

They said he might be disabled.

I've never heard of that before.

But they said it's the same as handicapped.

So often when newborn babies have problems, only

time can tell whether they will be permanently

injured.

Time can tell us what it likes.

Richard is our baby.

And we're going to love him no matter

what.

Most mothers would say exactly that.

But not all.

I know that all too well.

And that's why there will never be anything

wrong with my child in my eyes.

As long as he's happy.

And lo, the great poplar Christmas comestible heist

has borne fruit.

Somewhat literally.

And in the most spectacular way.

Good.

Yes, you'll need to be setting an extra

place at the table.

My flight to New York has been cancelled.

Thank you, freezing fog.

And thank you, industrial action.

Your turn now.

Let's see if you can do better.

That's enough.

Don't try too hard.

I'm going to refer her to a different

specialist at Imperial Hospital.

They've been developing a new type of surgery

there called a pot shunt.

The idea is to bypass the hole, even

if it can't be closed.

Do you think that's worth a try?

Of course you may stay for Christmas.

To have you with us would mean a

very great deal.

As long as your husband can spare you.

He has no choice but to spare me.

But I'll be home by bedtime on Boxing

Day.

Home?

Well, home won't be England for another year

or so.

The business is doing well, but getting in

the way.

Do you intend to resume midwifery when you

return?

I never intended to stop.

It takes ages to get registered in America.

We're different exams in different states.

And I'm worried my skills will decline if

I stay away too long.

You must come back to us.

For a short time, at least.

I don't want you to have to find

work for me to do.

For as long as the Order is able

to stay in Poplar, there will be work

for all of us to do.

We may have to present ourselves a little

differently.

I will explain more in due course.

You're doing a most meticulous job, Harry.

I am pretending they are teeth.

Dentists need to develop manual dexterity.

Thank you for introducing me to Christmas.

We've had quite a few introductions, haven't we?

A few months ago, we hadn't even met.

But we were always family.

We just didn't know.

What's that sound?

It's the Christmas bells.

It must be midnight.

Do they do this everywhere?

My father would have loved this.

I love it now.

Not everyone is where they ought to be

at Christmas.

Children unwrap their futures and their gifts, and

the years will whisk them all away.

Nothing stands still.

Not time, not life on Earth or in

the heavens.

And so, we must give each other what

we can.

And whilst we may, warmth, safety, love, hope,

laughter.

Give it all.

The wrapping should not matter.

But if there are ribbons, make them red.

Some dreams come true at Christmas, but not

all.

The season can be shaped by things we

lost or lacked or yearned for.

But then, if we're lucky, remembered for the

blessings that we found instead.

The reaching out.

The meeting of needs.

The pulling together that makes the magic spark.

Home will forever shift and change like the

moon or a star.

Home circles on its axis, marking our days

and the miles we must travel.

But its core remains constant.

The one fixed point on our fragile human

map.

Home is the chamber of the heart that

we constantly revisit.

And Christmas beats inside it year after year

after year.

Perennial and steadfast and enduring.

There it is again.

The open door.

The extra chairs.

The nearness of each other.

And the dark made distant.

Time will pass and much will pass away.

But this will always be the same.

Because here at home for Christmas, we can

relish all we share and cherish all that

we receive.

Find all that we love and know to

be eternal.