Original subtitles

In 1963, it seemed humanity knew no bounds.

Our horizons stretched into infinity.

As we tore through the atmosphere venturing into the galaxy itself.

The universe felt so vast, it dwarfed us.

There were times the weight was more than we could bear.

Nurse Franklin, what's the matter?

Oh.

My chain's come off, my brakes are slack

and my bell's stopped ringing.

But the bike's all right though?

Rosie, keep your hand away from the needle.

I don't want you hurt or a machine put out of action.

And neither does Mr. Gani.

Where is the boss today?

One boss is away attending to a family matter

and the other one is standing right in front of you.

Oh, strawberries. Again.

The torments of Prometheus are summoned to my mind.

You'll have to pretend you're at Wimbledon, Sister.

Do you have any plans, Nurse Anderson?

They have a gospel choir at my church and I'm going with my friend, Sybil.

I'm meeting with my Spanish class

for an evening of Sangria and Iberian snacks.

Mmm.

I had to concede failure in my pursuit of chorizo sausage for them.

But I've made shift with some spicy luncheon meat.

Nurse Franklin,

do you have any plans this evening?

I thought I might sort out my nylons' drawer.

Or my manicure tray.

Or I might even get out my keep fit manual

and find finally master the half clam scissor lift.

There really is no end of things

one can do with a whole free Friday night.

Where is she?

She's resting. Come, sit down.

I need to talk to you.

- Parveen, Hussein, let me see you. - Wait.

Saddiq. What is it? Is she ill?

No. No, meri rani.

Just quite unexpected.

We are blessed.

Mumtaz?

What is this? Have you brought a husband?

What is she saying?

Arranged it?

When I went home for my father's funeral,

my mother had already decided,

your family agreed.

You have taken another wife?

I am so sorry.

You are the father?

Do not be sad.

I feel sick.

- Mumtaz, please... - Leave me!

Ah.

There's a busy district list this week,

which I am handing on to Sister Winifred.

And if you take the post-natal patients, Nurse Anderson.

I'd like you to spend some extra time with Mrs. Diller.

One of those twins isn't gaining as she ought.

Meanwhile, just two bookings in for you, Nurse Franklin.

You can have a bit of an easy wicket for a change.

Phyllis, I don't want an easy wicket.

Maybe not. But in my view you need it.

You've had a bit of a setback in the romantic stakes

and I dare say, poor Mr. Dockerill

is drilling and filling at the dental department

with a face as long as yours.

I need to keep busy.

Work will be the perfect cure.

Nursing is about curing patients, Trixie, not our own broken hearts.

And I am not going to overstretch you until you can give of your best again.

Thank you, Mrs. Gani.

Sister will help you to dress and then take a blood sample.

This won't hurt, Parveen.

I promise you.

Please.

Is she ill?

Or is something the matter with the baby?

There is nothing to suppose the baby is anything other than healthy.

And your wife seems well.

It says here that she is 15 years old.

I wouldn't say anything that is untrue. She is 15.

That is below the legal age of marriage here.

But that is none of my concern.

The fact that she is a very young first-time mother is.

Just think how grateful the knees of the faithful will be.

If the fingers of the faithful were doing their share,

we wouldn't have got roped into this.

Valerie and I are benighted heathen

and Lucille doesn't even go to this church.

We are all one congregation under God.

Would you pass the Penguin biscuits, please, Trixie?

Just look at this poor lady astronaut.

The moment that she puts on her helmet her bouffant will be ruined.

Where immortality is concerned, the coiffure is an irrelevance.

Valentina Tereshkova's name is destined to echo down the centuries.

Oh, I get this little shiver every time they say, "First woman in space."

Just the idea that there'll be other girls going all that way,

doing all those things.

My gran can remember people throwing stones at a female bus conductor.

Have you mislaid something, Sister Monica Joan?

I parted company with my bodkin

and sought to retrieve it.

There are needles aplenty in my chamber.

I shall take this hassock there

and sew until complin.

Mrs. Loretta Campbell?

That's me.

Would you like to wait in here? I won't be a moment.

Sorry for the delay.

What do you have in there? A sneaky piece of cake?

Something like that.

I get peckish.

I don't know what that is, but it doesn't look like cake.

No.

It's coal.

Coal?

I can't help myself.

And I'm so ashamed.

Oi! You're on private property.

When I find a device that belongs to me secreted in your outhouse,

amongst your dibbers and your trowels and your long toms,

it would appear to me that it is not I

who requires a reminder of proprietary rights.

Look, I'm sorry, Sister Monica Joan. I didn't realize it belonged to you.

Must I have everything monogrammed?

My garments going to the laundry,

marked like the possessions of an infant?

You could have started a grass fire.

Oh.

It upsets me when you upset yourself, Sister.

I require this.

And I require that it is not moved

when I place it somewhere for safe-keeping.

Perhaps, we can attach it to a piece of elastic around your wrist.

When I took the veil,

I vowed to surrender the world of the senses.

But some senses, it seems,

are harder to relinquish than their counterparts.

We'll sort something out.

I promise.

Lots of women crave different foods when they're pregnant.

Pilchards, gherkins, sherbet lemons.

Believe me, I've seen it all.

It was marmalade sandwiches when I had my first.

Apart from the fact that I can't stand marmalade,

it never seemed so strange that I had to eat them in secret.

The good news is that in every single case,

the urge goes away as soon as the mother gives birth.

What if it hurts the baby?

My sister-in-law couldn't stay away from strawberries.

And her poor little girl

came out with a bright red mark right down one side of her face.

That would just have been a coincidence.

When an expectant mother feels compelled to keep eating certain things,

it's called Pica.

- What, there's a name for it? - Oh, yes.

And whole chapters in obstetric textbooks.

You're almost ready to have this baby, so you...

I'd give anything to just want a marmalade sandwich.

So you won't be suffering for much longer.

- I did not choose this. - No.

Our families did.

I cannot blame you. I cannot blame her.

What can I feel?

- What can I do? - I don't know.

What we had wasn't everything we wanted,

but the business became our child.

It grew. It cost us sleep. It made us proud.

For me, it showed me what love is.

What it means to be husband and wife.

When we met, when we were married,

we did not know what those words meant.

But we learned to share everything.

But we cannot share this.

A bit more tightening and you shouldn't have any more trouble.

You look after us so well I wasn't aware there was any trouble.

Well, that's the way of the world, isn't it, Sister?

Full of pickles and predicaments. We don't always notice them.

Are you in a, a pickle or a predicament, Fred?

Not me. Sister Monica Joan.

More particularly, her eyes.

I wondered if her sight was deteriorating.

It is so very common with age.

I reckon it's a lot worse than she's letting on.

She's using a very strong magnifying glass,

but only in secret.

And without it, it's like she's almost blind.

Why isn't she admitting it?

I don't know, Sister. Pride?

And perhaps she fears nothing can be done.

Or, begging your pardon, Sister Julienne,

the fear that something can be.

Well, she never was too keen on medical intervention.

Well, remember the carry on with the mass x-ray van?

She locked herself in a bathroom. I had to get my ladders out.

Quite.

Your care for her then did you credit, and does you credit now.

And I must match it with my own,

and make sure that we give her the help that she needs.

Midwife's here, Loretta.

Hello, Mrs. Campbell.

You seem to be doing nicely.

Looks like I'm just in time.

Oh, I don't know about nicely.

I've got an ironing pile the size of Ben bloody Nevis

and five pounds of potatoes still to peel for the tea.

Well, I'm going to look you over, get you settled,

and then we'll see about bringing your neighbor to help.

Naughty snack on the chest of drawers is never a good sign.

Feel sick at the thought of it.

Smuggling it around in my hankie or my handbag,

running into the toilets with it,

eating it behind closed doors.

I try not to give in, Nurse, I really do.

And when you do give in, do you feel better?

Oh, bloody brilliant, Nurse.

For a minute.

And then it all begins again.

No. No.

Shh.

It's a wonderful achievement.

And I think we might be able to persuade the wife it'd be a good idea,

if I could, to get her to go up there for a little while.

You're blocking the view, Sister.

There she is.

Isn't this marvelous?

I would give anything to see my family on a screen like this.

I wonder if she felt lonely up there by herself.

She would have had no time to be lonely.

She's a fearless adventurer fulfilling her destiny.

A perfectly formed, and might I add, angelic looking baby girl.

She's all right.

Look at her.

It didn't hurt her after all.

See, nothing to feel guilty about.

You must feel proud of her, Mr. Campbell.

Oh, I do. You're a trooper all right, Loretta.

A baby sister.

What do you reckon to her, Robert? Do you like her?

She's absolutely picture perfect.

She's definitely all right?

She didn't come to no harm? - Not remotely.

And you'll probably find the cravings will vanish now she's here.

You don't want a bit of coal to munch with some sherry?

Oh, I do not.

You can throw every last lump in the fire.

Now, that's worth toasting.

Isn't it?

Oh, I'm on duty, I'm afraid.

What's the harm? It's only a granny's tipple.

Hardly a drink at all.

Come in.

You have a visitor, Sister.

Oh, it is not convenient.

I'm engaged in my spiritual reading for the day.

It's Dr. Turner.

I won't detain you long, Sister,

but it would be good to have a chat for five minutes.

I am a stranger to the artifice of chatting, Dr. Turner.

And so are you.

If you invade my chamber,

I must presume that your purpose is malignant.

And I insist that you retreat.

Just five minutes.

Then you will have all day to do your reading...

With the magnifying glass a little bird told me about.

There's no need for you to keep it a secret any more, Sister.

This must be one of the strongest lenses available, Sister,

But it won't brighten colors

or take away blurring of things in the middle distance.

You know nothing about my visual acuity.

No. I'm just guessing.

But I'm guessing that you have cataracts.

And I know that there is plenty we can do.

May I sit down, Parveen?

You are nurse?

Midwives are special nurses who help the baby to be born

and make sure the mother has all the help she needs.

My mother is in Pakistan.

Is that her?

Oh, she looks beautiful.

Mumtaz, my cousin, this her house.

Could Mumtaz bring you to clinic next Tuesday?

I can check you over now,

but if you come to clinic you can meet some other mums.

Mumtaz work. In factory.

- Where's your husband? - In photograph. Here.

No, no. I meant your husband, not your cousin's.

He is my husband. He marry me, but he marry her first.

I shall submit neither to the knife nor Dr. Turner's prescribing mold pills.

I care not what remedies he suggests.

Penicillin has not even been suggested

because your eyes are not infected.

The lenses have simply clouded over with age,

and an operation will restore them.

Milton lost his sight at 43.

And the verse he wrote upon the topic is pitiful indeed.

"Blind among enemies,

"O, worse than chains, Dungeon or beggary, or decrepit age!"

And I don't doubt that he would have leapt at the chance of surgery.

I am a far greater age than he.

I have curated and collated in my mind

an entire library of books,

into which I can retreat when the light deserts me.

And if you could rely upon your mind, I would willingly let you go there.

But you cannot.

And I will not abandon you to darkness.

Sister Julienne won't say grace till you come down.

- And the flan is getting cold. - Cold flan?

I can't possibly have that on my conscience.

I couldn't believe what I was hearing at first.

Two wives?

Well, that is bigamy.

Not according to the law in Pakistan.

A man can take up to four if he has a mind to.

But this is a Christian country.

And this is where they live now.

There was a bigamist lived down our street when I was growing up in Leeds.

He was a commercial traveler in women's hosiery.

And he had a second wife and family on the go in Fleetwood.

Plus a mistress in Nuneaton he was trying to get engaged to.

I feel sorry for the first Mrs. Gani.

First wives are often stronger than you think.

The world would be a far more harmonious place

were we less concerned with the imagined strengths and frailty of others.

If we weren't alert to the frailties of others,

there's a great deal of caring that wouldn't get done.

I will go and see Parveen Gani and her family.

Here's Sister Monica Joan's referral letter.

Mr. Greswell doesn't have a very long waiting list.

The sooner the better, I think.

Before she decides to flee Nonnatus House

disguised as a washer woman.

She needs to be accompanied to hospital by someone she can trust.

And it sounds as though Sister Julienne is in her bad books.

Let's see when they can fit her in.

I'll take her myself if she hasn't come around to the notion.

Why don't you go and lie down, hmm?

So that you are resting when the midwife comes.

- Go on. - I don't want rest!

And I don't want this.

- Don't want what? - You hating me.

Your husband to be my husband.

And this. I don't want this.

The midwife has come to see Parveen.

Obviously she has come to see Parveen.

If Your blood pressure is raised,

it means we need to look out for other signs of complications.

But this is a very healthy reading.

Have you discussed where you want the baby to be born?

There is a choice?

Hospital delivery is available,

but we encourage home birth where possible.

Do you have any children of your own, Mrs. Gani?

No.

She says it's kicking.

Oh.

I think that's an elbow.

- Morning, Nurse. - Oh, good morning.

Your ankles are looking lovely and slender, Mrs. Campbell.

You're already losing that puffiness.

And baby's latching on like a professional.

Have you got any Anadin?

I don't carry proprietary medications, Mr. Campbell.

Might I surmise you've been wetting the baby's head?

Half drowning it more like.

He was down the Black Sail till all hours

and he kicked it all off with that sherry he had with Nurse Franklin.

Did he indeed?

I reckon Nurse Franklin would have rather have had some Tío Pepe.

You see it on the adverts.

She didn't seem to mind that it was only Bristol Cream.

We'll try baby on the other breast in a moment.

When Mr. Campbell has repaired elsewhere.

Entrer.

Oh, hello, Phyllis.

I was offered a box of Milk Tray by a grateful patient this afternoon.

Slightly shop-soiled, but I couldn't resist.

Help yourself.

Though I'm afraid I beat you to the lime barrel.

A box of Milk Tray isn't the only thing you were offered, is it?

Or the only thing you couldn't resist.

I'm sorry, I don't know what you mean.

You drank sherry at the Campbells' house.

Yesterday, after the baby was born.

They put me on the spot.

I want you to tell me it was an isolated incident,

a one off, a momentary slip.

But I don't think you can, can you?

A little brightener now and again isn't the end of the world.

It's the end of your being in control of things

however much you might try to argue otherwise.

And I do try.

Lately I've almost managed to convince myself.

Trixie, have you stopped going to your meetings?

- No. - Are you sure?

Phyllis, I'm not a child.

No, you're a nurse and a midwife, Trixie.

And there are rules. Rules you've broken.

As well as the promises you've made to yourself.

Are you...

Are you going to report me?

Not this time.

But you must keep attending your meetings, Trixie.

I'll go back, I promise.

You did stop going then?

Mrs. Gani?

- I'm afraid Parveen is not here. - I'm glad.

Because I wanted to see you.

There.

One handkerchief neatly pressed and ready for action.

I know not why you insist on my taking such a thing.

Do you envisage tears in addition to the gnashing of my teeth?

No. I envisage us putting our best feet forward

and approaching this appointment in a positive and optimistic manner.

I suggest you wear your black veil.

In case we want to pop into a nice little cafe I know of

on our way back from the hospital.

It's called the Black Kettle Cafe

and has quite the reputation for its custard slices.

Spit spot, Sister. Let's not keep Fred waiting.

I am familiar with the strain

that a baby can bring within a family.

Not every baby is welcome or wanted.

I have seen confusion and distress

and heartbreak in my time.

I feel many things...

But it is best that I do not discuss them.

Parveen's child is not my child.

And her pregnancy is not your pregnancy.

I knew nothing of it until she arrived.

I knew nothing of the wedding until she arrived.

Everything was decided by others and done by them.

I am forced to accept and accept and accept.

Just as I had to accept that I would never have a baby.

I'm so very sorry that you are in this situation.

Oh.

- Good morning, Mr. Dockerill. - Good morning, Nurse Crane.

As nobody on these premises has expressed a desire

for emergency dental attention,

might I presume that you've called

because you'd like to see Nurse Franklin?

Yes. But I don't know if she'd like to see me.

She's on her rounds as it happens.

But please be advised

that what that young lass doesn't need at this precise moment in time

is a romance with a man who is effectively married.

Trixie meant the world to me, Nurse Crane.

And she still does.

I will not do anything that would distress or hurt her.

Good.

Because what she does need is a friend.

She's 15.

I was 15 when I married Saddiq in Pakistan.

And I can still recall the terror that I felt.

But he was hardly older than I was.

You were children together.

And we grew together.

Grew up together.

She has been forced to lie with a man more than twice her age.

Saddiq is a good man...

And gentle.

I know him.

But she does not.

I feel rage and grief

for myself

and my marriage.

And I do not see the child in front of me

with an infant in her belly,

I think only of the children that I can never have...

And I despise myself.

I do not.

I will book Parveen into the maternity home to have her baby.

She will get excellent care.

And it will give you the chance to come to terms with what is happening.

I will never come to terms with it.

And yet, I must try.

If you could remain as motionless as possible.

It will assist me.

Yes, you have bilateral cataracts.

That's to say one in each eye. Now, both require surgery.

You must put me under the knife?

Not the knife, Sister, a scalpel.

It's delicate surgery, thoroughly tried and tested.

And my understanding, Mr. Greswell

is that general anesthesia would be deployed.

Mmm-hmm. Of course.

I can promise you, Sister, you won't know a thing about it.

One small scratch on the back of your hand,

you'll be away in fairy land.

If you assume

that an enforced visit to an imaginary realm

will reconcile me to your butchery, sir,

you are mistaken.

Sister Monica Joan,

I'm sure Mr. Greswell will be...

It is not necessary for Mr. Greswell and I

to waste any more of one another's time.

Mr. Greswell was remarkably courteous, all things considered,

and said he would leave Sister Monica Joan on his waiting list.

- But she remains intransigent. - Yes.

And she went straight to her bedroom and slammed the door.

I suspect she shall be leaving this tea on the landing.

But if she doesn't have the operation, she will go blind.

Quite.

Will she have to go back to the Mother House?

That's the one thing she's always dreaded.

If she's to lose her sight, it's best that she remains somewhere familiar

and that we help to prepare her.

You were right to bring Parveen in. Her waters have broken.

But her contractions are yet to start.

She must come home.

Given the situation,

I think it's best for us to keep her on the ward to monitor her progress.

We can give her castor oil to encourage the labor,

and hopefully we won't have to wait too long.

We will contact you as soon as there is any news.

I'm not convinced this is fully showerproof.

My offer of chauffeur service still stands.

Thank you, Phyllis, but taking the bus is part of my routine.

If I can bag the top deck front seat left-hand side,

then it sets me up for my entire evening.

I can understand that.

Of you pop. Get yourself back in the swing of it.

Mr. Gani, hello, it's Sister Julienne from the maternity home.

Parveen's contractions have begun.

Young mothers often labor very quickly.

So if you and Mrs. Gani would like to come in...

Eh, thank you.

The baby's coming.

Shall we gather round, ladies and gentlemen?

Are you joining us?

Not this evening.

You're doing really well.

Good girl. Good girl.

Parveen.

Parveen, Mumtaz is here.

You timed it perfectly.

The baby's almost here.

What do I...

What can I do?

Help her by talking in Punjabi.

The head's about to be born.

We need to take this slowly, Parveen.

Parveen, very slow.

Don't push too hard.

Encourage her. She's doing really well.

The head is coming.

Doing so well.

You really are.

Well done. Well done.

You have a little boy, Parveen.

You have a son.

A boy.

He's so beautiful.

And you are very, very clever.

Look at his fingers.

And his hair.

Look at what you have done.

You did it also.

You helped me.

Looks like you dodged the worst of the rain then.

Yes. I got off very lightly.

A son.

My son.

Our son.

I telephoned the Royal Institute for the Blind

and spoke to an exceptionally helpful lady.

There are a great many things on offer to people whose sight is failing.

In due course, you may wish to consider a white stick.

We can put that notion to one side for the time being.

But without the surgery,

you are going to have to prepare for a future where things are very different.

The lady suggests that you might start learning Braille.

I managed to pick up some books for beginners from the library.

You love books so much, Sister Monica Joan.

And many of the great works are printed in Braille.

So once you've mastered it, you can read them in translation.

It seems that I am in translation now.

Transmuted.

Altered.

Metamorphosed.

Oh, Sister.

There are other words for my condition,

but I can't recall them now.

Christopher. What an unexpected pleasure.

Sorry. Would you have preferred it if I called first?

Not really.

I was about to remind you

there are rules about kissing in the vicinity of this doorstep.

Well, it can't matter surely, if we're just friends.

No. Don't suppose it can.

How's Alexandra?

Doing better.

I'm seeing a bit more of the old sparkle.

Oh, I'm so glad.

She got a gold star in her essay entitled My Rabbit,

and wants me to show it to you

when she's allowed to bring her exercise book home.

I'd love to see it.

Even if it means seeing me too?

I don't want to do anything that adds to your unhappiness, Trixie.

Who told you I was unhappy?

- A little bird. Well... - Phyllis.

A slightly bigger bird, admittedly, but a very concerned and caring one.

She had no right discussing my personal business with anyone.

Trixie.

I care too.

Oh, sorry, Sister.

Didn't mean to interrupt you.

These flowers were going spare from the allotment.

Uh, Sister Winifred said to leave them in here for the altar.

Not much scent for a Hybrid Tea.

- They're roses? - Yeah.

My mother was intensely fond of her rose garden.

She taught me the name of every bloom.

Zephirine drouhin.

Souvenir de la malmaison.

La reine.

Well, I don't know what these are, other than prone to mildew

and a little bit on the thorny side.

If I were in a more jocular cast of mind

I might say the same about myself.

But you're feeling a little bit out of sorts, aren't you, Sister?

I can scarcely see that they are flowers at all.

I don't drink all the time.

I have rules.

And by and large I stick to them.

You know how self-disciplined I am.

And I know how brave you are. And how fragile, how proud.

And I know you will do everything you possibly can alone

before you ask for help.

I'm not asking for help.

But you need it.

Yes. I do.

Thank you for allowing me to say that.

When I first took the veil,

I fought it.

I performed the tasks required,

but inside I resisted every rule

and questioned every regulation.

Well, that's human nature, isn't it?

It was my nature.

And still is.

I could always hear God's voice.

I was merely reluctant to let him have the final word.

Sister Monica Joan,

if you don't have this operation,

he will have the last word.

And you will lose your eyesight all together.

But if that's what he intends...

The greatest lesson I learned from the religious life

was acceptance.

It was hard,

but supremely worthwhile.

I should perhaps not abrogate it now.

But instead,

surrender

to blindness.

If you submit to blindness,

then you'll be throwing all sorts back into God's face.

What are you... Explain your meaning if you can.

Well...

People are trying to help you, you're rejecting that.

Medical science can help you, you're rejecting that too.

And... And if you believe that God created the world,

then he made all of those things possible.

And I would be a little bit fed up with you if I was the man upstairs.

The man upstairs knows my reasoning.

In which case,

he also knows you're scared.

We all get scared, Sister.

I was scared at El-Alamein.

I bet that lady astronaut was scared when they put her in her rocket.

Think of all the things that she's seeing now.

I have decided to suffer the surgeon's knife.

Really?

If an ingénue of 26 can travel through the earth's atmosphere

at orbital velocity,

then a woman as ancient as myself

can face her fear of the scalpel.

Sister Monica Joan, having a cataract operation

really isn't comparable to going into space.

I look upon the astronaut and myself as brides of science

and courteously invite you to do likewise.

I'd come in with you if it were allowed.

But instead, I'll sit tight here until you're finished.

All right.

I managed to pull some strings, and Io and behold,

Sister Monica Joan's name is on the cancellations list.

Oh, thank you.

Time is of the essence. Lest she should change her mind again.

She has changed it once already.

How did you get her to agree?

It would appear that the credit should go to Fred.

- Is that Baby Gani? - Yes.

Sadly, the mother still isn't interested in feeding him herself.

I almost wish I'd encouraged a home birth.

With less support from us,

Parveen might have been more inclined to engage with him.

What about the other Mrs. Gani?

It's such a very delicate situation.

Mrs. Gani, hello.

What are you doing here?

I just came to speak to you about the baby.

Please go.

It is not my child.

I know how hard this is for you, Mrs. Gani.

But he's so little. He needs all the love he can get.

I said go.

Please.

Mrs. Gani?

- Oh, goodness. - Leave me.

Let me take a look.

I'll call Dr. Turner.

I know what's said in there is private.

Did anything help tonight?

In a way.

Then why do you look so sad?

Because I realized something.

We can't keep seeing each other, Christopher.

But I want to help.

I don't think you can.

What, just because we're not together doesn't mean I don't care anymore.

- I still... - I know.

And I still do too.

But that's precisely why this can't go on.

You have to look to your future.

And I have to look to mine.

God willing, there's a lot of life left to live for both of us.

Good night.

Take care of yourself, Trixie.

You should make a full recovery.

Though I'd keep up the painkillers for a day or two.

- Drink this. - Ah.

- It's been well sugared. - Thank you.

You have taken care of me very well.

I heard you speak of the baby. Is he unwell?

Not unwell. Just a little unsettled.

Perhaps because motherhood isn't proving easy for Parveen.

How can motherhood be hard?

She's given birth. Her body has prepared her.

Motherhood is about so much more than a physical process, Mrs. Gani.

Well, I don't know any more about that than you do.

I think we all know more about love than we might realize.

I'm a doctor.

But I'm a father too.

I have a son to my late first wife,

an adopted daughter,

and a little boy who was born

after my second wife and I had given up all hope

of ever having a baby of our own.

For you, the miracle happened.

Yes. But the miracle wasn't that a child was born.

It was that my wife and I had found ways to embrace what we were given.

We built a family out of several disparate elements.

And at least one major surprise.

Is it a happy family?

Yes. It is.

Not necessarily average

and a bit chaotic sometimes,

but it works very nicely.

So you're saying that I must embrace what I'm given?

We're saying if you can open your heart to Parveen,

then maybe you can find a way you can all thrive.

The baby most especially.

Phyllis?

Yes, lass?

- I'm sorry. - Oh, lass, what for?

For putting you in such a difficult position with Sister Julienne.

For being less than honest with you

when you deserve nothing less than the truth.

And for not turning up for duty tomorrow.

Because I'm going to have to turn my attention

to something very pressing.

That means going away for a while.

I'm not one for biblical quotations,

and well you know it.

But my mother always used to say,

"Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof."

Which is just another way of saying,

"You can start afresh in the morning."

And you can.

I promise you.

Oh, Mrs. Gani.

I was about to take baby through to the nursery for his bottle.

You aren't feeding him yourself?

It's too hard.

I can remember my grandmother telling me,

"To feed the baby one must feed the mother."

Let's get you something to eat. Hmm?

You asked to see me, Nurse Franklin?

- Yes, I did. - And I'm glad.

Because if you hadn't,

I would have been forced to ask to see you.

I can do better than this, Sister Julienne.

I believe you can.

And we both know that you must.

I'm granting you leave of absence for six months

to enable you to seek help for your problems.

Once you are yourself again, you may return to your position.

You go with our love and our prayers.

Sometimes, one small gesture

can give us the strength to do enormous things.

A little generosity can unleash great tenderness

leading, in time, to deep real love.

And a single conversation can change a mind, a life.

The world is no bigger than the people who inhabit it.

And together, or alone,

we are closer than we know.

It seems he may have been suffering from smallpox.

I need help. But you must keep it a secret.

You said you didn't want any balloons or a welcoming committee.

That's why we didn't tell them we were coming home.

She's suffering such anguish,

so terrified of another forceps delivery,

that she doesn't want to give birth.

- Eunice. - I'm not doing it again. I can't.