All language subtitles for call.the.midwife.s09e02.1080p.hdtv.h264-mtb.ENG

During Lent, we give up the things
we love.

We repent and make sacrifices.

Even the altar must go
without flowers.

We deny ourselves pleasure.

We forego cake, coffee, biscuits.

Sugar in our tea.

Or try to.

We promise to forbid ourselves
cigarettes.

And when we fail, we are
policed by fellow penitence.

Enjoyment itself is contraband.

Much is ruined in pursuit
of self-improvement.

And we are all exposed as very
fair from perfect.

Fred. It's gone.

- Now that is the second time this week.
- What's that?

The milk. And don't you tell me that
the milkman made a mistake, because

just look at this. I found it just
chucked on the front doormat.

The cheek of it! So, you'll be
having that black.

Mum, where've you been?
It's nearly quarter to.

- You'd best get off, then.
- You all right? Course.

What's that?

Well, I wrote a list in case
you go up the shops later.

- Since when do I need a list?
- Well, it's just a few bits.

They can always wait until tomorrow.

Right, I'm on a double, remember,
and Ken won't be back till five.

I know, I know. Go on.
You don't want to be late.

All right, Missy.
You be good for your gran.

- I'll see you later, yeah?
- Who is that then?

What've you been doing?

We, too, have fallen prey to the
purloiner of dairy products.

We had a bottle removed
from our doorstep only yesterday.

For myself, I set no store by
caffeinated beverages

with my morning repast,
but the younger women are sorely

aggrieved at the lack of milk
for their tea.

Well, I'm with them there.

I mean, it's bad enough Vi's got us
giving up sugar for Lent.

I wasn't bargaining on us
giving up milk, too.

I have perceived a pattern to the
culprit's larceny which

suggests a period of covert
surveillance might prove profitable.

Do you know, I think you might have
something there, Sister.

You are surprised!

What the hell's wrong with ya?

It's only a couple of pints a milk,

- it's not like it's the crime of the century.
- On this occasion, perhaps.

But this is not your first transgression,
is it?

All right.

Don't flip your wig. Look just tell
her I'll pay for it, will ya?

- If that's her problem.
- We seem to have caught our thief.

Look, I'm sorry, all right?
I shouldn't've taken it.

I don't even drink milk as a rule.

But you're supposed to have it
for the baby, ain't ya?

- For the bones and that?
- The girl is with child.

Perhaps you should step inside,
Miss... erm?

Atkins. Tina Atkins.

How far along is your pregnancy,
Miss Atkins?

Dunno exactly, it's hard to keep
track of dates, ain't it?

But you have been to a doctor?

Not yet.

But my monthlies have stopped.
Besides, I can just tell.

I feel... different, you know?
Like there's a baby growing.

There's an antenatal clinic this

afternoon at the Iris Knight
Institute,

you could register with Dr Turner
whilst you are there.

- I suppose it can't hurt.
- More porridge?

- With sugar this time?
- Go on, then.

It was a girl?

A right cheeky little madam.

What've you got there?

It's from my Auntie Margaret
who lives in Keele.

Nearly 80 and she still sends me
a parcel twice a year.

Aww!

Ooh, will you look at that?

Well, we shall just have to
put it away... for Lent.

Boo!

Just five minutes more and then we'd
better skit to the shop.

All right, lovey?

- All good, Nurse?
- All good.

I can hear a nice strong heartbeat.

You look a bit flushed though,
Mrs Bulmer.

It was just a rush to get here.

- Are you still working at the factory?
- Too right.

We're paying the deposit
on the house next month.

It's fine, really. I'm just sitting
at a machine.

It's not like it's hard graft.

Still, your blood pressure's
higher than I'd like.

You need to try and take it easy,
if you can.

Feet up as soon as you get home
and lots of early nights.

- All right?
- Yes, Nurse. I mean it.

You're not far off now.

And we don't want a repeat of last
time.

It was all over bar the shouting
by the time I got there.

- My mum did all right, though, didn't she?
- All right?

She pretty much delivered the baby

- and still had a cake baked by teatime.
- I know.

She's something else, my mum.

I was saying before, wouldn't it be

- perfect if this one came on Mother's Day?
- Well, you never know.

Nana!

You've grown a whole half an inch!
Well done!

- I'm so proud of you.
- Can't you tell me my test result now?

I'm afraid it'll take a week to come
back, so you'll have to make

an appointment at the surgery.

Well, I guess it ain't all bad.

So long as it means I get to see you
again, Doctor.

Has anyone ever told you, you've got
eyes just like Paul McCartney?

No, I don't believe they have.

You have, though.
He's my third favourite Beatle.

After John. And George.

It was my mother's favourite variety
and Aubrey assures me

it will bloom by Mothering Sunday.

It's quite lovely.

He really is a most thoughtful
gentleman friend.

He's invited me to accompany him to
Kent at Easter to visit his sister.

Apparently, there are the most
wonderful coastal walks.

I'll be off to the Brook Advisory
Centre now, Nurse Crane.

Very well.

Sergeant, what's going on?

A neighbour heard
the little girl crying

and, as far as I can ascertain,

she's been left in the house on her
own with the doors locked.

That can't be right.
Her gran looks after her.

Gillian, it's Nurse Dyer,
I'm helping Mummy with the baby.

Is your gran there?

Apparently, the grandmother was seen

leaving the premises over
an hour ago.

Mama.

It's all right,
sweetheart. It's gonna be all right.

Given the child's situation, I think
it's best if we get this door down.

- Gillian?
- Yeah.

Er, Gillian, I'm going to need you
to move back down the hall

so we can open this door.

Do you understand?
Just shuffle back on your bottom.

Yeah, that's it, keep going.

Right the way down. Well done.

Now, um, there's going to be a big
bang when the door opens.

But there's no need to be scared.

Gillian? Gillian!

Gillian!

What's going on?

Gillian! Gillian.

Oh, my God, is she all right?

Oh, sweetheart, it's all right
I'm here.

- What's going on? Where's my mum?
- We don't know.

- She's not in the house.
- What? She must be!

Sergeant Woolf?

Sergeant Woolf.
Call for an ambulance.

Tell them we have a male, 50s,
police officer, heart attack

- and to come as quick as they can.
- Agh. That's it.

- Any luck with those notes?
- I'm afraid not.

Perhaps you could assist us,
Miss Higgins?

If you're not too busy
with your pot plant?

As I said, Nurse Crane,
my files are impeccable.

If any documentation is missing,
you must look elsewhere.

Mum! Where've you been?

Oh, God.

You were supposed to be
minding Gillian!

What was going through your mind?

I don't know what was going
through my mind!

You left a tiny child
completely on her own!

- For hours, according to Reenie!
- Please, stop shouting.

What would've happened
if she'd've managed to get out

and she'd have run into the road?

I don't know what would've happened!

I don't know what did happen!
But I'm sorry. I'm really sorry.

Listen.

Gillian is safe,
and that's all that matters.

Like my gran used to say,

let's all simmer down
and put the kettle on, eh?

Whoa, whoa, whoa! What's going on
here? Laverne!

Laverne,
have we been burgled or something?

No, we haven't!

So, what the ruddy hell's happened
to the door?

Why don't you ask my mum?

We've all had a fright, Mr Bulmer.
But there is no harm done.

We're here to enquire
about a Sergeant Aubrey Woolf.

I understand he was brought in

by ambulance following a suspected
cardiac incident.

One of my colleagues
attended to him.

- If you'll wait one moment.
- Thank you.

Won't be long now.

He's been admitted to Ward 12.

- Is he conscious?
- I believe so. Thank you.

Come on, let's go and find him.

Thank you.

A heart attack is a corporeal crisis
of the highest order.

Sergeant Woolf was very lucky that
you acted so swiftly, Nurse Dyer.

To be honest, I... I should've seen
the symptoms sooner.

There was just
so much else going on.

And I couldn't go with him
in the ambulance

because Mrs Bulmer
was in such a state.

I am only thankful the child
came to no harm.

Have you spoken to Dr Turner
about Florrie Watkins?

Yes, Sister. He's going to
see her in the morning.

It certainly sounds as though the
poor woman is developing dementia.

I hope you're wrong. She's only 58.

And that whole family
relies on her completely.

That may have to change.

It can be a hard thing when a child
must become the carer to a parent.

But surely it is no more
than we owe?

A repayment for all the care

and sacrifices they themselves
have expended on us.

I quite agree, Sister.

For my own part, it was certainly an

honour to care for my mother
in her final years.

But it didn't mean that
the transition was an easy one.

I'm so sorry, Sister,

the clinic at the centre was a lot
busier than anticipated.

We're seeing a lot of young women
seeking contraceptive advice.

It just shows how badly
the centre was needed.

My only concern is that
your voluntary commitments should

not adversely affect your work,
Nurse Franklin.

Of course, Sister.

I Think Of You
by The Merseybeats

- Oh, No, thanks.
- Sure? Yeah.

Nurse Anderson, here's the list of
district visits for the day.

One more surgical discharge from
St Cuthbert's and a new colostomy.

Meanwhile, Sister Hilda,
you will, of course,

be having the pleasure
of St Wilbur's Primary.

I have my nit comb at the ready.

Valerie, have you taken my
sterile gauze?

I had two rolls here
and now I've only one.

I've not touched it.

- Are you sure?
- I'd know if I had.

Goodness, I prefer you two
when you're smoking.

I could never see the attraction of
cigarettes myself.

Me neither. I can't bear the smell.

Well, it must be wonderful to be
so saintly.

Personally, I always think those
who've struggled with

temptation are far more interesting.

I've worked hard all me life,
Doctor. Early to bed, early to rise.

It's never bothered me before.

But that's changed recently?

Well, to be honest,
some days, I'm so tired,

I can hardly put one foot in front
of the other.

Why didn't you say something?

Well, I thought it would pass,
you know.

Nurse Dyer also mentioned you'd been
having some joint pain.

Yeah, well, my ankles.

The left one especially.

And, elsewhere, too.

Uh, knees, wrists.
I sort of ache, all over.

She's been forgetting things, too.

But, then, it's no wonder
if that's how she's been feeling.

So, what do you think it is, Doctor?

Your mother may have developed
Mature Onset Diabetes, which

we'll start managing with
a strict diet plan.

But, in the meantime, because
I'm concerned about your other

symptoms, I'd like to send you
for blood tests.

And no more cleaning work
for the time being.

And it might be better to find
a neighbour or friend who could

take care of your daughter,
Mrs Bulmer.

Sorry, Sister. Mind how you go.

Oh, sorry, Sister, I was just
heading out, as it happens.

I won't keep you.

But I understand that you missed
your appointment at the surgery.

Yeah, I got held up.

But it was only confirming what
I knew already, weren't it?

The test was positive, yes.

But it's important that
you're regularly monitored during

your pregnancy which is why we ask
all expectant mothers to attend

- the Tuesday clinic on a regular basis.
- All right, I can do that.

Well, not today. I've got a lot on.

But I will, I promise.

- I want do what's right for the baby.
- Of course you do.

You know, I keep thinking about
what it'll be like

with its little fingers
and that soft hair they have.

I'm going to love it so much,
Sister.

And I'm going to be a good mum.

I'm going to get a good job,

I'll find us a decent place to live,
you'll see.

Well, it's probably too late to make
the clinic today, in any case.

Erm, you can start afresh next week.

And if you have any questions,
or issues of any kind, just...

Well, it's probably nothing really

but I've noticed a bit of something
down there, in me knickers.

- You mean discharge?
- I suppose.

And it burns a bit.
When I go to the lav.

- I see.
- Er, you can check, if you like.

I think it might be better

if I make you an appointment as soon
as possible with Dr Turner.

Yeah, all right, just as long as it
don't take too long.

I've got to go see someone about a
job up West.

He's a music producer.
Knows everyone.

And he says he reckons he can get me
a job in a boutique.

That does sound promising.

Come in!

Oh, no! It's the Nit Nurse!

Nitty Nora, head explorer!

Yup, no, you're fine. Off you go.

All clear! Thank goodness.

- Marnie Atkins.
- Come along, dear. I won't bite!

All right, darling, off you go.

Go and wait in the corridor, Marnie.

- Your blood pressure's still a bit high.
- Is it?

Oh, it's nothing to worry about
at this stage,

but I'll be looking in on you daily
from now on, to keep an eye on it.

It's just one thing after another.

How's your mum doing?

At least she hasn't had any
more funny turns.

But I can't leave Gillian with her.
So I've had to stop work.

That's probably not such
a bad thing.

But now I'm not bringing any money
in either and Ken, God bless him,

I know he never stops, but it
won't be enough, not for all of us.

And there's the deposit on the
house.

There's no way we can manage
that now.

Truth is, Nurse, if Mum doesn't get
better, I don't know what we'll do.

You'll take care of her.

And everything else,
it'll work itself out.

Yeah, I know, you-you're right.

You're certainly looking
a lot brighter.

And the ward sister tells me
you managed a little more dinner.

The cod in parsley sauce was
a considerable improvement

on the spam fritters.

- Oh!
- Yes.

Sister Monica Joan insisted
that your card have a canine theme,

although her reasoning was not
entirely clear to me.

Well, an evocation of the bulldog spirit,
perhaps?

Perhaps.

In any case, I was asked to convey
the best wishes of all at Nonnatus.

They are praying for your
speedy recovery.

Seems you are much missed.

Oh, Millicent!

Erm, you'll be speaking with
Dr Carmichael in the morning?

Doctor's rounds are at 11.

According to the nurse, he likes to
play a round of golf beforehand.

Well, really!

Sorry, Nurse, I was busy.

- Mum can't have heard the door.
- Not to worry.

I've just put Gillian down.
She needs her naps in the morning.

Oh! She's not the only one.

Mum

- Mum!
- What's wrong?

Nurse. The whites of her eyes have
gone yellow!

Come here, chick.
Let's have a look at you.

Am I seeing things?

No. You're not.

Sister Julienne said I had to see
the doctor straight away.

I know, Miss Atkins, but I'm afraid

he's been called out
to another patient.

Well, I can't wait around all day.
I've got things to do.

Which is why I'm more than happy to
examine you myself?

I saw you at the clinic.

That's right, I'm Nurse Turner.

- You're married to the doctor, then?
- I am.

All right for some.
I knew a doctor once.

He wanted me to go and live
in a mansion in the countryside,

but I didn't fancy him.

Something's not right.
You need to do something.

Because, whatever it is,
it's getting worse.

I'm a diabetic, Laverne.
It does all sorts to your system.

It doesn't cause jaundice,
Mrs Watkins.

This yellow tinge suggests your
liver's struggling.

- And it's been struggling for a while.
- Her liver?

Seems likely.

But we will run some tests.

We'll get to the bottom of it.
I promise.

Thank you, Doctor.

There we go, all done.

Suppose I'll have to get used
to this, won't I?

Midwives poking me round and that.

Pregnancy does have

its uncomfortable moments,
that's for sure.

But you'll remember
that from your first one.

Sorry?

Well, I noticed you have
an episiotomy scar.

I presumed it was
from a previous delivery.

Yeah, that's right.

I was just a kid and my parents
didn't want to know, so...

- I'm sorry.
- No, it's all right.

My little boy.

He went with his dad to America.

He's got a lovely life now.

Lives in one of them
big white houses.

- With a view of the sea.
- That does sound nice.

Still, it must've been hard for you.

Yeah, I suppose.
But it's for the best.

And I've got a second chance, now,
ain't I?

- Another little baby.
- Absolutely.

Now, Miss Atkins, I'm afraid it does

look as though you've picked up
an infection.

- What sort of infection?
- Could be a number of things.

But, given the symptoms, we first

need to rule out
a venereal infection.

So we'll send a sample for testing.

All right, then.

Laverne?

The doctor says she's been ill
for ages.

He says it's got to the point where
her liver's really badly damaged.

- But can't he do something about it?
- I don't know.

He's doing tests.

But you don't get better from
something like this?

- People die from liver disease, Ken.
- Oh, Verne.

How did she even get
something like that?

I don't know.

But I said to the doctor, "Whatever
it is, it's not from drinking."

She'll have one milk stout,
once in a blue moon.

In front of us.

What do you mean, Ken?

What do you think I mean?

She's all confused all the time?

- She can't get up in the mornings.
- Because she's tired!

And she's tired because she's ill!

When she left Gillian,
she had some sort of blackout.

And now the doctor says
her liver's shot to pieces.

What if she's having
a tipple on the quiet?

I don't know how you can
even say that!

You know what she went through with
my gran!

She won't even have
strong drink in the house!

Vernie, don't get upset. I'm just
saying something has caused this...

No, you're saying my mum's
an alcoholic! My mum.

The woman who's worked her fingers
to the bone for me, and Gillian,

not to mention you!

We're a family. We stick together!

And if you say anything about her
like that ever again,

you're out this house.

You're on your own.

Apologies, Sister. It took me
rather a while to locate them.

They'd migrated from the employment

pile to child support and milk
vouchers.

And these are the employers who may
be able to offer suitable

hours to young mothers?

- I have Tina Atkins in mind here.
- In theory, of course.

Whether they currently have
openings is another matter.

How are the Bulmers getting along?

Not too good.

Laverne's mother's showing symptoms
of liver cirrhosis,

but Laverne insists
she's never been a drinker.

If one is determined enough,
one can hide it for years.

Addiction thrives in the shadows.

Speaking of which, Lent or no Lent,

I plan to enjoy a post-dinner
Sobranie cigarette this evening

and I hereby openly admit my utter
lack of self-discipline.

Fair enough.

Who's there? Who's there?

Come on, show yourself!

Fred Buckle!

I'm sorry, Vi, I couldn't resist.

Honestly.

You could've at least
have used a knife.

Mmm!

Really, Patrick, could it
not wait till after supper?

I'm sorry, but I know
I'm missing something.

And I'm just hoping that something
in here will jog my memory.

Would it help to talk about it?

A woman in her late fifties
develops Mature Onset Diabetes

despite a limited consumption
of sugar,

an active lifestyle and no
discernible issues with her weight.

- It's possible.
- Then she develops

symptoms of jaundice,
suggesting advanced liver damage.

- And you think the two may be connected?
- I'm certain of it.

But I can't for the life of me
think how.

Oh, thank you, Nurse Crane,
that's very good of you.

I thought you'd have had your fill
of grapes by now.

And no doubt Miss Higgins has been

keeping you well stocked
with more enticing comestibles.

Hmm.

I hope I haven't spoken out of turn.

I spoke with the Doctor today.

His prognosis was far from
encouraging.

I'm very sorry to hear that.

Therefore, given the circumstances,

I'm compelled to reconsider my
situation, concerning Miss Higgins.

Patrick,
you said you were coming up.

I... I won't be long.
I've found this article.

She's no longer having periods.

Florrie Watkins' monthly bleeding
stopped with the menopause.

But that's when she developed all
the problems associated with

toxic levels of iron in her tissues.

You know what it is?

I know what it is.

Lenny Atkins, I see you.

Lovely, not a nit in sight.

Very well done, both of you.

Straight back
to your classrooms now.

Make sure you get your sister
back to hers.

Of course,
they'll be re-infested in days.

The ones in care always are.

Do you know what
happened to their mother?

Tina Atkins?

She's around.

They've been back with her more than
once, but it never works out.

Classic neglect.

Doesn't stop the little one
crying for her, though.

No matter how badly they're treated,
they always want their mother.

She's a prostitute at the docks.

Yes, I noticed that your skin was
considerably more tanned

than your daughter's. Do you spend
a lot of time in the sun?

What in Poplar? In March?

He's right, though, you have got
a bit more colour than you used to.

I've spoken with the liver
consultant and we believe

the darkening of your skin is
related to the other symptoms.

It's a condition called
Haemochromatosis.

- Haemo-what?
- It's something you were born with.

It means you've got too much
iron in your body.

Will she get better?

The condition can be
managed by blood-letting.

The consultant has already
set up a plan.

Although, I'm afraid it will take
a few months for us

to get things under control.

And it might take even longer than
that for your body to recover.

I'm... I'm not going to die?

No, Mrs Watkins.

Now, you are going to need to make
a few adjustments to your lives,

but this is something we can manage.

And manage well.

Hear that, Mum?

Oh...

I've spoken with St Cuthbert's,

but, unfortunately, they're unable
to provide a bed at present.

Do we have space
at the maternity home?

You would have to address
the possibility of cross infection,

now she's been diagnosed with
gonorrhoea.

I know, and I realise that's not
ideal.

But, without supervision,
I very much doubt that Tina will

take the antibiotics, and that would
place both mother and baby at risk.

I suppose if an allocated bathroom
and a lavatory for her sole use

can be provided,
a workable solution could be found.

That's what I thought.

I was also a little concerned by
something Tina said about her son.

Her son?

Do I have to stay here? I thought
you said I'd have me own room?

Unfortunately, the side room is
already occupied.

If I can ask you to slip out
of your clothes and pop on the gown?

And I definitely will get my dinner,
won't I?

All your meals will be provided.

Ooh, let me pull the screen round.

You were never good with needles.

I remember when you were little,
you threw a blue fit

when you had to have an injection.

- You gave me butterscotch.
- I did.

Mum what, is it? What's wrong?

I was so scared!

I thought my mind was going.

And I just kept thinking I won't be
a burden.

I'll jump in the river if I have to.

How could you even think that?

How could you ever think you'd be
a burden?

You're my mum.

Here...

Ooh!

There are two children.
A boy and a girl.

Marnie and Lenny Atkins.

- You are quite sure?
- Yes, Sister.

Both have been in and out of care
since infancy, as their mother,

Tina Atkins, has been unwilling
or unable to care for them.

What of the father?

Apparently, the father, or fathers,
were not involved at any point.

Except conception, obviously.

She told Mrs Turner that her son
was abroad with him.

That's complete fantasy, I'm afraid.

Because the reality was too painful
or perhaps too shameful to admit.

Presumably, she thought her past

would affect her chances of keeping
this baby.

And, the fact is, it probably will.

Unless we can find a way to help.

I tell you what? Keep your stupid
magazine,

I was only looking at it anyway.

Let's get you back to bed,
shall we, Miss Atkins?

It's time for your medication.

Did you see that, Sister?
She's accusing me of stealing.

I don't think that's very
Christian-like, do you? Selfish cow!

Here's your medication, Miss Atkins.

How old are you anyway?
You look about 20.

You new to this whole nun lark,
are ya?

- I joined the order when I was 17.
- Seriously?

What about boys?
And parties and stuff?

That was never really for me.

What, you mean you've never...?
You know?

Blimey.

Look, there's Grandad.

Now you shan't miss the
Round Britain Quiz.

And I've been giving some more
thought to our Easter plans.

Provided you're home by then,

a little trip to the seaside might
be just what you need.

- Oh.
- Well, we don't need to decide yet.

And, if Kent still feels too
long a journey,

well, then we could consider a day
trip to Kew, perhaps, or Richmond.

I did so love the river
when I was a little girl.

Millicent. I've spoken to my sister

and I shall be going to stay with
her when I'm discharged.

Oh, well, there you go. Kent, it is.

That's a marvellous idea.
A few weeks by the sea.

It-it might be considerably
longer than that.

Dr Carmichael said that
I need to be signed off from work

for the foreseeable future,
but he was unable to tell me

when or, indeed, if I might ever be
fit enough to return to active duty.

Oh, Aubrey. I'm so sorry.

Which is why, in the light of this
development,

I feel it would be unfair of me
to continue with our relationship.

I am not a well man, Millicent,

and, were we to grow closer,

I'm afraid that any happiness
we might enjoy...

...might only make it that
much harder on you in the end.

I'm sorry.

Of course.

I completely understand, Aubrey.

You must do what you think best.

I'd better go, then.

Mum's going to get better, but we
don't know how long it will take.

So, we'll just have to forget about
the house, for now.

And we'll have to tighten our belts
and manage with what you bring in.

All right.

Because I can't go to work with
nobody looking after the kids

and Macintyres have probably
already given away my job by now.

And, anyway, with the baby coming
any day, I just need to get ready.

- Is that it?
- I think so.

And Florrie's going to get better?
Yeah? They're sure about that?

That's what they've said.

Then that's all that matters, eh?
Come here.

Ooh, cor, you don't half make things
hard for yourself, eh.

A machinist?

To be honest, Sister,
it's not really for me.

As I understand it, this work is not
particularly physically demanding,

so you would be able to continue
with it throughout your pregnancy.

Yeah, but once the baby comes,
I'll want to look after it, won't I?

I won't want to be out working.

With a regular income, you'll
be in a more secure position.

I'll get payments
from the Assistance and that.

I'll get by somehow.

Tina, I know this
isn't your first child.

And I understand it must be very
difficult to talk about.

But, despite what's happened in the
past, I want to do everything I can

to make sure you keep this baby.

And the first step towards that is
finding you regular work, so that

you can show the social services
that you can support yourself.

Tina?

I was too young. It wasn't my fault.

No-one's saying it was.

But, with our help, in time,

you may be in a position to contact
your other children.

They're better off where they are.

They're cared for.

But I know your daughter
misses you very much.

Perhaps you could think about it?

I want you to go.

Oh. I'm sorry if I've upset you.

Just go.

Clean as a whistle.

Those ankles are looking better too.
Well done.

Where's Florrie?

- She's having a lie down.
- Wonders'll never cease!

She's probably sewing, not resting,
but I told her she needs to

just think about herself and let me
look after everything else.

Like you said, I can't stay her
little girl forever.

Ah, I'm sure I didn't say it
quite like that.

I knew what you meant.
And you were right.

No point killing ourselves for a
better place to live, is there?

If we're not together to enjoy it.

No, I suppose not.

Ken wants to stay put, anyway.

Says he don't want to leave his
mates down the pub. I ask you!

Uh.

Are you experiencing some discomfort,
Miss Atkins?

This bed's hard as a rock.

It's given me a right pain in me
shoulder.

I can fetch you some painkillers.
May I take a look?

No, it's the bed all right?
Just leave me alone.

I thought, if you were finished for
the day,

you might care to join me
for a cup of tea.

Thank you.

- Mum...
- No, it can't be.

- You've another week yet.
- I don't think so.

I was expecting a cafe or
perhaps a tearoom.

I've always had
a preference for fresh air.

My mother and I used to
walk for hours every Sunday.

She said it blew the cobwebs away.

And I'm inclined to agree.

I fear I have made myself look
rather foolish.

Not in the least.

One becomes so starved of
companionship.

I let myself imagine it was
something more than it was.

You've been disappointed in love.

It doesn't mean there wasn't love
there to begin with.

Nurse Dyer, you are needed.
Laverne Bulmer has gone into labour.

Sister Julienne,
might I speak with you?

According to a very helpful

gentleman from the health and
welfare service,

an adoptive family was found for the
Atkins children over six months ago.

Tina was informed at her
last known address

and given several opportunities to
oppose the adoption.

But she never responded.

Of course, she may not have
received the letters.

- How soon is it going ahead?
- A mere matter of days.

It seems the wheels
are already in motion.

It's all right. Here she is.

- Made it this time, then, Nurse?
- Yeah, no, thanks to you, Mrs Bulmer.

You certainly like to keep me
on my toes.

Right, let's take a proper look at
you.

- Ken, will you take her out?
- Yeah.

- That's it, come on, lovey...
- Mum, will you stay?

Is that all right?

Oh, I never say no to
reinforcements.

Let's get you on the bed, shall we?

Oh, just give me a minute. Mum.

You hang on to me.
I'm going nowhere.

Nurse Anderson was concerned it
was getting worse

but Tina refused to be examined.

If she'd have left through
reception, you'd have seen her.

She's not in the bathrooms or
the treatment room.

Then she must've gone out
through the back door.

Tina?

It hurts, Sister. Oh, it hurts...

It's all right, my dear.

We're going to take care of you.

That's it, chick,
you are so nearly there.

It's too much. I'm too tired.

Come on. You take my hand.

You take my strength.
I've got enough for two.

I always have had.

Sister, I'll need you with her.

Tell St Cuthbert's we have

a suspected ruptured
ectopic pregnancy.

You don't want to
wait for the ambulance?

There's no time.

We need to get her into theatre
before she goes into shock.

That's it. That's it, Laverne.

- You let your mum help you!
- That's it. Come on.

Florrie, keep it going.
Keep it going, Laverne!

Just a tiny bit more
and we're there.

One last push, come on.

Well done, chicken.

Oh, Vernie, just look. Oh, Vernie,
just look.

A daughter! And a granddaughter.

It's funny to think it just used to
be you and me once.

- Families grow, Laverne.
- We all do.

Are you going to come and meet
your new daughter, then?

Sister, come this way.

You stayed with me?

You're going to feel very weak,
I'm afraid. You lost a lot of blood.

And the baby.

Yes.

They said it was growing
in the wrong place.

Says it all, don't it?

The surgeon was able to save your
other fallopian tube.

He shouldn't've bothered.

I don't think you mean that.

Yeah. I do.

I was no good as a mother.

It would've been just the same
this time.

A lot of women find motherhood
very challenging.

You were alone, you were not
supported.

It's no wonder that you found
it a struggle.

The only good thing I ever did for
those kids was give 'em up.

I don't think that's true.

Tina, Lenny and Marnie have been
placed for adoption

and a family have been found
for them.

The health and welfare
services did try to inform you.

I know.

I got a letter.

It's not too late. If you want to
oppose the adoption.

I don't.

I just want you to think about it.

I don't need to.

I'm glad someone wants 'em.

Maybe they'll have a decent life.

Cos they wouldn't have had that
with me.

Sister.

I do not wish to disturb
your contemplation,

but I sense a deep disquiet in
your soul.

And if I may offer solace,
I feel bound to do so.

I have failed a young woman
in my care.

And worse than that, I... see no way
to help her in the future.

Then her situation is most dire.

It is, Sister.

She believes she is unsuited
to motherhood.

Indeed, she has proven herself
to be.

And yet her behaviour makes further
pregnancies almost inevitable.

What will become of the children?

That is my one of my concerns.

When I was a novice,
I found Lent the hardest season.

Not for the hardship of
self-sacrifice.

That I willingly embraced, but for

the absence of nature's beauty
in the chapel.

I always found it an invaluable aid
to spiritual labour.

But then I encountered a passage
that gave great illumination.

It is not the penance that we
choose that is pleasing to God...

...it is the setting aside of ego
and the submission to His will.

So, I must accept the world as
it is, not as I would wish it to be?

To do otherwise would be a

disservice to those you would
assist.

Come in.

Please don't let me disturb you.

I wish to ask if you will arrange
an appointment for Tina Atkins

at the Advisory Centre,
once she is discharged.

She requires her prescription for
the contraceptive pill and advice.

Of course, Sister.

And perhaps you could ensure
that she attends?

I shall make sure of it.

Thank you, Nurse Franklin.

"Dear Mum, thank you for looking
after me and Fred.

"I know he needs lots of
looking after, but I hope you get

"a rest today. Love from Reggie."

Cheeky beggar.

Isn't that lovely?

Tea with milk for madam.

And these are from me.

Consider them an apology
for Auntie Margaret's cake.

Honestly!

- What's all this?
- Go on, girls.

Happy Mother's Day!

Oh, isn't this wonderful?

They did it all themselves.

Except for the toast.

Oh, no!

Not all of us will choose
what we give up.

The things we love are taken or are
never ours at all.

Will you take another cup, Phyllis?

Oh, thank you, Millicent,
that would be most welcome.

If we're lucky, life is defined

not by what we let go,
but what we let in.

Friendship and kind words.

Frailty and hope.

Are these for me? Thank you so much!

To be human is to be imperfect,

and to accept that is to thrive.

No path is always strewn
with flowers,

but therein lies the power
of each fragile, tender bloom.

- I'm early.
- I'm ready.

- I am dirty.
- That's not true.

One of my patients at the hospital

today was clearly expecting
a white midwife.

- Mrs Blair, can you please...
- Give them back!

I think we have a theme
for the fashion show.

You have a responsibility
to your wife and to your sons.