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I'm now cutting the dura mater.
That's the brain's outer covering.
There we are.
This is the actual lesion.
It's a subdural haematoma.
I'll stop the bleeding. Sucker please, Sister.
We're now going to secure haemostasis
while still under local anesthetic.
Clip please, Sister.
Good.
Leave...
"my"
soul...
alone.
Leave...
my... soul...
alone!
Oh, Mr Rord.
I've got your winnings. Your sweepstake.
- Oh, yes. - It was a bit of a cockup. That's why it's late.
- 9...?! - Yeah, that's what I...
- It should be 16! I've got it here. - But that's what I'm trying to tell you.
That's the mistake. That's why it's late.
Honestly. It should be nine. I know we said 16...
I'm sorry.
Well, look, if you don't believe me,
check with Pete Hoskins in the path lab.
Honestly, it should be 9.
Is that the label off the body?
Hey, you don't take that off. You'll get me shot!
Well, only to copy it. I'm putting it straight back.
- No, no. Crikey, you don't take that off. - I took it off so I wouldn't make a mistake.
That's the very reason you don't take it off, so we don't make a mistake.
You do up the register in there.
Put it back, before Dr Harris comes.
Nothing comes off till the undertaker's been.
There's still the name band on the wrist.
That's on the body. That label stays on the shroud. It's a double check.
Hey, we all learn, eh?
Er, what number have you given him?
- I haven't yet. - Make it... nine.
- Nine? - Yeah, nine's empty.
Honestly. It should be nine.
Yeah, nine's empty.
Well, Mr Rord, how are you enjoying your third day in your new career?
- Thank you, Doctor. - Better than theater orderly, and in two years,
you can become qualified like Mr Markham, and enjoy the same privileges
and vastly inflated pay scale, eh, John?
We look first for signs of electrocution.
NOW!
Turn him over.
Look at the back.
Well, gentlemen,
we are looking at the mortal remains
of an individualist, for whom modern surgery held no mystery.
To the extent that Mr Holt tried to operate upon himself,
by applying an electric drill to the head.
A do-it-yourself merchant.
A rather boring person.
Still,
it's one thing to be enthralled by the wit and wisdom of the
conservative brand of self-help, another to attempt to penetrate one's cranium
with a three-eighths bit purchased from the local ironmonger.
And... without anesthetic.
What he was trying to achieve, I don't know.
Except that the end result was that the erstwhile spurned NHS
had to come to the rescue with a remedial operation for a subdural haematoma.
Blood clot.
Note the drill's point of entry.
Through the temporal bone.
- All right? - Yes.
Curious thing, whilst Mr Holt was undergoing surgery,
apparently he cried out,
in tones more befitting Count Dracula.
Beseeching the neurosurgeon
to leave his soul alone.
"Leave my soul alone," he said.
"Don't touch my soul."
Then he died. So, Edwyn,
what are we to make of such an apocryphal story?
May we deduce empirically that the soul,
for so long regarded by the Keats and Shelleys of this world
as residing in or near the heart, lies in no such lobby, but in the brain?
But the question arises, to what -
or to whom - was he addressing his plea?
Was it directed at God, the surgeon, or the devil?
What was it Mr Holt was trying to protect?
Or had he simply tried to kill himself?
But if so, why use an electric drill to the bonce?
A rather painful way of committing suicide, I would have thought.
Whatever it was, Mr Holt was terrified.
Poor demented being.
Let us thank our lucky stars we have no such dispositions. Gentlemen...
...the brain.
Cause of death: coning of the brainstem.
The spinal cord has sunk into the foramen magnum.
So, it wasn't the destruction of the soul, after all. Nothing so dramatic.
How much did you win in the sweep, then?
9.
It should have been 16.
How are you doing?
No, that's not right.
Those stitches have got to be a lot closer together than that.
Nine stitches at least to every three inches.
Nine. A good rule.
Right, I'm off to lunch. See you at two o'clock.
Honestly,
it should be 9.
Make it... nine. Nine's empty.
What you clone? Cut yourself?
- No, I pricked it with a needle. - What, stitching up the body?
- Yeah. - Been to Casualty?
- No. - You'd better get off, then.
- How long ago? - Just after you went.
Go on. I'm telling you,
you stitching up a body, prick yourself,
that's an anti-tetanus jab, that is. And penicillin.
- I put iodine on it. - That's no good.
Go on, or I'm not responsible.
You never just put iodine on.
That can be...
I sent him down for his er... for his, you know, jabs.
He pricked himself on the Holt case.
He's gone now. He should be all right.
Ah! John's been telling me.
- Have you had your jabs? - Yes, I've...
Good. Well, we don't want you contaminated by Mr Holt's disease.
I was telling John.
I saw the police doctor at lunch.
He tells me the reason for Holt's self-operation was to relieve
an imaginary pressure within his head,
brought on by what he thought was an evil virus. He had an obsession
that his body had been invaded by the devil.
The only way he could see to let it out was by drilling his head.
Except, if he had been taken over,
perhaps he was Satan himself, crying out for his soul not to be touched.
After all, the only way to kill Dracula was a stake through the heart,
so why not a drill through the brain?
The logic... of madness.
Quite irrepressible.
How's your mother, by the way?
Is she hearing any better?
- No, Doctor. - Oh.
Well, never mind. Face the world, Edwyn. Don't let it get you down.
Ana; as my illustrious ex-classroom forebear used to write,
"And death... shall have ...no dominion."
Hello, Mr Rord.
I got that job, by the way.
And there's somebody round the corner takes babies,
so I'll be able to pay the rent, won't I?
What's up?
You all right?
Has anybody been here today wearing sunglasses?
No, not that I know of, but I've been upstairs mostly.
- Sure you're all right? - If you see anybody, you tell me.
Well, anybody special? What's the name?
Taken your shoes off, Edwyn? I've cleaned in here today once.
- Don't want you involved. - What did she say?
Did she call me something?
That's right, take the pram out! Filthy thing!
- All over the floor. - There's a good baby.
What did she call me?
Nothing!
Don't worry, Mrs Rord, I'll pay your rent.
You still haven't taken your shoes off.
We used to have names for things like her.
When I was a young nurse, we learned hygiene.
Scrub everything, even under the stair carpet.
Did you get my hearing aid batteries?
Yes.
Don't turn that up.
Just like your father.
Sit around, no willpower to do anything.
You don't die of meningitis these clays.
He'd given up. With all those drugs,
he'd given up.
Huh! Attendant!
- You could have become a nurse at least. - Shut up.
What were you doing talking to her for?
I want her out.
I didn't know she was having a baby, else I wouldn't have taken her.
- Shut up! - Have you told her we want her out?
Well, did you?
- I can't hear you! I said, did you...? - Leave me...
"Leave my soul alone," he said. "Don't touch my soul."
Then he died.
Hello, Steve. Oh, Mr Rord. I thought it was somebody else.
Come in.
I've got the rent.
- Do you ever listen to the police? - What?
That's where the messages are.
Warning you.
- Oh, police. - If you need warning.
What about?
Them. That's why I asked you about the sunglasses.
Let me get your rent.
I'm not mad.
I've got proof. Dr Harris is the pathologist, John Markham is the technician at work.
I've only worked for them three clays,
but I knew it was coming cos the police have tried to contact me. This morning,
a nurse gave me 9 when it should have been 16.
Markham told me a body I brought in should be number nine.
Later, he told me to do nine stitches to every three inches.
That caused me to prick my finger with a needle. That's what they wanted. And...
this house... is number nine.
Nine on this house is my life. Nine for my winnings is my destiny, luck, fortune.
Nine on the body stands for death. That's three nines.
Three nines makes 27.
Two and seven is nine.
It's complete!
You can't escape.
- Dial 999. - Yes!
Don't be frightened, please. You won't be touched.
It's not you they're after, it's me.
But you're right, the police have been broadcasting.
They use the weather vane at the hospital to my car radio.
So I was ready for them.
Outside they wear sunglasses,
because evil can't stand sunlight.
They chose nine three times because it is the same as the police number.
They enjoy doing that. It's part of their game.
Perverse.
But er...
What?
But why you? I mean...
Because I'm innocent.
I'm not evil.
I've never been ill, I'm clean... inside.
I've never caused harm to anybody.
That's where they tried to get me infected. They told me about the virus.
That's them being clever, you see. They tell you,
and you think because they tell you, they can't be involved.
They also told me to get an anti-tetanus and penicillin injection,
but they waited an hour after the infection to tell me.
An evil virus won't react to injections, anyway!
But they played safe.
I had to tell somebody.
Yes, yes,
of course.
Why don't the police come and tell you?
- Why do they...? - Cos it's evil! Evil can't...
They'd look stupid coming and saying people are trying to infect you.
How would I believe that? The police don't... They have to do it secretly.
They wouldn't er...
I just thought...
I wondered... Your mother's always getting at you.
I just wondered, in your mind, you know,
- you imagine. - I haven't told my mother.
No, I mean she gets at me, as well.
If she was in a home or something,
you might feel better.
No!
No, I'm talking about facts!
I've given you facts!
There's more. I've not even told you about the looks they give each other.
- Sampson and his people. - Sampson?
Nursing officer.
I've seen him talking about me in the cafeteria. He gave me the 9.
There's 10.
- Edwyn, are you up there? - Shh!
I was in the operating theater.
Sampson got me the job in the mortuary.
- He told Dr Harris about me. - Well, good luck.
I'll look out for the sunglasses.
Hello, Steve.
What were you doing up there?
And death shall... have no dominion.
Hah! Got you!
7.
Oh, we had a meeting and decided in the best interests of public relations...
Well, now you've got the 16.
- Cheerio. - You're not with them!
I thought you were... um...
Can I talk to you? It's very important.
John! We'll have to sort out that stuff.
Yeah, urn... Look, excuse me, I've got to rush. I'll um...
- I just want to... - Yeah, I'll... I'll see you later, OK?
Make it... nine.
Afternoon, Mr Rord.
The beauty of this job, Edwyn,
is you get to tell the most macabre and delicious stories at dinner parties.
Like last year.
I sent a brain to the path lab.
The nurse who received it found it was the brain of her mother.
Tell that over the prawn cocktails, Edwyn.
- What are the symptoms of meningitis? - Meningitis?
- Can you tell me? - Certainly
Vomiting, headaches, sudden onset. Why?
- You all right? - Headache?
From intracranial pressure
- inside the head. - Thank you.
Why do you ask?
Roger. Stand by.
Can I help you?
Yes.
Cure me!
At first, I thought it was Dr Harris and the others.
Now I know it isn't. Well, not directly.
- Who is it? - My mother.
She gave me my name - Edwyn.
Edwyn adds up to nine, with Rord.
But your father gave you your name, as well.
No, he's dead. She killed him with the same virus.
The symptoms of meningitis and the evil virus are the same. Pressure inside the head.
She also hid the TCP from me.
Samuel Holt's name adds up to nine, the same as mine.
That's five nines now!
Five nines are 45, four and five is nine!
It says in the book, nine is a universal number.
All evil is universal. It's the same all over.
You're telling me
that all disease is caused by evil.
Well, of course! I've proved it!
Yes. Yes, of course. I'm...
I'm sorry.
Please, go on.
Well, that's it. That's...
That's all of it.
Edwyn...
...if all disease is evil,
and doctors treat disease,
why not let them treat you? Why come to me?
I've told you, this is a special virus!
I've been infected with a virus
that is disguised to look like meningitis.
Like my father. The numbers prove it!
Can I read you something from the Bible?
It's from the Book of Revelation.
Yes, here.
"And I beheld another beast"
"coming up out of the earth,"
"and he had two horns like a lamb,"
"and spake like a dragon."
"And he causeth all to receive a mark in their right hand or in their forehead."
"Let him that hath understanding count the number of the beast"
"for it is the number of a man."
"And his number"
"is six hundred, three score and six."
Now, that's 666,
not 999.
666, that's 999 backwards.
Three sixes are 18! Eight and one is nine!
My son, it is the number of a man,
not a woman. Not your mother.
- Please, do this for your body's sake. - No, no, no!
- See a doctor. - No! God, no!
I really do beg you!
Oh, my God!
Holt was convinced, according to the sergeant's evidence,
that his salvation lay in kidnapping the baby,
killing,
and eating it.
Holt told the sergeant that he was prompted to do this by voices.
He was told that eating the baby would drive out the devil within him.
Fortunately, Holt was prevented from carrying out this terrible deed
by the sergeant's arrival.
- Do what you like. - I will do.
- Up to you, then, isn't it? - All right, then, I'm off.
- Good riddance. - Right!
You're welcome to her.
Hello, Edwyn. Come up.
You laughed at me.
- You told him and he laughed. - I did what?
You laughed at me! You didn't believe me!
What?
When was that? Laugh at you?
Hm, never.
I never laugh, anyway.
Steve's gone now.
He's left me now. I'm on my own.
Come up. I'll make us both
a nice cup of tea.
Come on. You can trust me.
Come on.
Come on.
That's it. Come on.
Mm, lovely.
You're home early from work, aren't you?
- It is her. - Hm?
- My mother. - What about her?
It's her. She's directing them.
Oh, you mean getting at you.
Well, I said so, didn't I?
Doctor Harris asked me if my mother's hearing was any better.
How did he know she was deaf?
How did he know that? I never told him!
So he must know her. There's obviously a connection between them.
She killed my father.
Ooh, you poor thing.
They asked me to work in the mortuary.
They infected Holt, didn't they?
Yes, you said so.
They carried out an experiment
to see if he could be given a virus of evil. Then he had...
Then he had to...
...do terrible things.
The brain.
He didn't.
He tried to cure himself with the drill. It failed.
He died. They needed somebody else, so they chose me.
Oh.
They have to experiment!
Then they'll do it to everybody, and take over the world.
Do you take sugar?
It's so... clear... in my head!
So exact!
Ice-cold!
It's like a black hedge against snow.
You've never been loved,
that's your trouble.
You needed somebody like me.
I was going to find a place with Steve.
But now that Steve's gone,
this one room's not big enough for a baby.
Your mother should let me look after you.
She should go into an old people's home.
Couldn't you do that? Get her in a home?
Let me look after you.
This one room's not big enough for me and baby.
Let me look after you.
- It would make everybody happy, wouldn't it? - She's evil.
I was thinking. The health visitor
- would be happier if... - Shh!
Oh! Oh!
Oh!
Oh.
Oh, dear.
Oh, you've killed her!
If you slit the throat and hang the body upside down,
all the blood drains away.
And you get rid of evil.
And burn what's left.
They'll put you away.
And what will I do?
Come on.
Help me clear it up.
Have you got the key?
We'll just have to say she wandered off.
She was a silly old thing.
We could eat you, couldn't we, eh?
Eat you! Eat you! Oh!
Yum, yum, yum, yum, yum!
Oh, we could eat you all up!
Holt was told that eating the baby would drive out the devil within him.
We could eat you all up, couldn't we?
Eat you!
Good evening. I'm Father Mackintosh.
Does Mr Rord live here?
- Yes, he does. - Is he in, do you know?
I don't think he is.
I wonder, can I have a word with Mrs Rord,
- his mother? - She's gone.
- Oh, you mean left? - Yeah.
- And you're...? - I live here.
- Do you know Mr Rord well? - I know him, yeah.
Can I have a word with you, then?
- Do you mind? - No, come in. It's through there.
- Thank you. - This way.
Thank you.
He talked to me about numbers.
- Did he talk to you about them? - Numbers?
No, I don't think so.
Obviously, I can't tell you what he said,
but I'm very worried about him.
Does 999 mean anything?
Yeah, the police.
Well, can you do me a favour?
Ask him to drop by the presbytery and see me.
- Can you do that? - Yeah, I'll do that.
Good. Well...
I'd better be going.
Thank you, anyway. So, if you could just have a word,
say I'd be very grateful if he'd drop by.
Yeah, I'll do that. Bye.
Thank you. Goodbye.
- Why did you tell him that? - I didn't know you were there.
You told him I didn't tell you about the numbers!
Numbers?
Of course I didn't.
I didn't want him connecting me with it, did I?
Not with the baby.
We don't want you involved, do we, baby?
We could eat you, couldn't we, eh? Eh?
We could eat you, couldn't we?
Eat you, eat you, eat you, eat you!
- Nothing else today, is there? - No, Doctor, no.
Well, I'll justify my golf club membership, play my one majestic annual round.
- Nine or 18? - 18?
Good heavens, I'd never make the 19th!
It's nine for me. One short, glorious nine! Bye, gentlemen!
Honestly. It should be nine.
Make it um... nine.
Nine's empty.
Hello, Edwyn.
I've been to the hairdresser's. Do you like Lt?
- He must be helped. - It's not my fault.
- What have you done with him? - It isn't working. Try another.
No, it's not evil! It's to make you better!
There's a priest asking to see Edwyn.
A priest?! That's the last thing he wants. Tell him he can't see him.
- Where's Dr Manders? - Manchester!
You were slow, you had the baby three months!
- We did what we was asked. - Yeah, I've clone my job.
Well, he didn't respond,
did he?
Well, he ain't now, is he?
That's enough from you.
Another week,
and then it's Dr Manders.
Edwyn,
somebody to see you.
My name is Dr Manders.
What's yours?
- Ed... wyn. - Good.
What's he had?
Fluphenazine Decanoate. Every two weeks, 25mg.
Well, we can't wait much longer.
Especially now he's seen that priest.
- What priest? - Mackintosh. Edwyn's local.
He connected the hymn numbers. Nothing to worry over.
Well, we must start. Holt was like this, remember.
No, we don't want to call a halt now, do we?
Come on, Edwyn.
Come on! Come on!
That's it! You're all right!
Come on! Come on!
Come on!
Come on. The oven's ready.
Come on.
It's no different to killing your mother.
You want to be cured, don't you?
The sacrament, Edwyn.
Eat my body...
in remembrance of me.
He that eateth my body
and drinketh my blood
dwelleth in me and I in him.
This... is... real?
No!
And upon her forehead
was a name written: Mystery,
Babylon the Great,
the mother of harlots...
...and abomination of the earth.
Kneel, quickly!
And he showeth me a pure river of water of life,
clear as crystal, proceeding out of the throne of God, and of the lamb.
And there shall be no more curse in it. But the throne of God shall be in it.
And behold,
I came quickly, and my reward is with me
for I am alpha and omega, the beginning and the end.
The first and the last.
Blessed are they that do his commandments,
for they may have the right to the tree of life.
Argh!
We've failed with him.
We'll just have to send him back.
Find somebody else.
Well, Edwyn, you've led us a merry dance. It's been three months.
I don't know whether you remember this gentleman - Dr Manders.
Well, he's taken a great deal of interest in you.
He's come specially to see you.
Edwyn, you've suffered from a very acute
type of paranoia. A persecution mania, if you like.
You do know that, don't you?
Yes.
But you responded extremely well to drugs.
I'm sure you're feeling very much better now,
aren't you?
Yes, Doctor.
Does the number nine
mean anything to you?
We've removed the trigger.
How are you feeling?
- Fit enough to go home? - Yes.
Good! Excellent!
You're going to need regular treatment, but...
I don't see any reason why you can't resume work after you've had a bit of a rest.
Oh, there is just one other thing.
Dr Harris and I both feel that you're not suited to the mortuary.
How would you like your old job back,
- in the operating theater? - Yeah. Thanks.
I think tomorrow, Sister,
- Mr Rord will go home. - Yes, sir.
Well done.
- Oh, hello, Mr Rord! - Hello.
Oh, you remember me, then.
- Stella. - That's right.
I came to see you once, but you didn't, er...
You were so poorly.
Oh, dear, the time I had my hair done,
you just let out one yell.
I thought you'd died.
Do you remember any of that?
No.
Let me make you a nice cup of tea.
Oh!
Say hello to Mr Rord.
- Edwyn. - Oh, about the rent.
I paid it into your bank, except for this month's.
- Oh, it's all right. - I was really worried about you.
Had to ring for an ambulance.
- Did you get your old job back? - Yes, I'm going back to the operating theater.
Oh, yes. That'll be nice.
- Won't it? - Well...
Three months.
That's a long time.
It's amazing what they can do with drugs, though, isn't it?
I always thought paranoia was beyond that.
What were the things that convinced you?
- Can you remember? - Urn...
there was the weather vane, I remember that.
The doctors said I thought the police were trying to warn me through it.
A kind of aerial.
Good Lord.
- What were they trying to warn you about? - Can't remember.
Hey, it's here.
About the virus.
"Despite intensive work"
"by a team of pathologists, the mystery virus that has struck down three nurses"
"remains unidentified."
"Meanwhile, the pathology lab, as well as the mortuary, remains closed."
Hello, Edwyn.
Oh!
Oh! Oh!
NO!
Leave me!
You want to be cured, don't you?
The sacrament, Edwyn.
He that eateth my body
and drinketh my blood
dwelleth in me
and I in him.
It's for you, Edwyn. It's the only cure.
Holt wouldn't take it.
You must.
Join us. Eat the baby.
I've gone to such a lot of trouble.
Come on, Edwyn.
Edwyn!
Lock the doors and put the keys in my desk, will you? Good night.
Sucker, please.
Leave...
"my"
soul...
alone!
Clip, please.
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