Original subtitles

MATURE JENNIFER: In 1964, every East End family

had its connection to the wharfs.

People belonged to the river, and the river belonged to them.

Watch out, son!

And the Thames flowed on, like time itself,

bringing growth and change and challenge.

(GROANS)

- Here, Dad. - Nurse Franklin.

Hello, Mr. Brittall.

The hospital let me dad come home last night.

Oh, I am pleased.

It's so much better that he's with his family.

This isn't a social club, Marnie!

I expect I'll be seeing you soon.

That's it!

I think I should just try this blazer on.

Tim!

Oh, sorry.

Just for that, you can be in the picture, too.

DR. TURNER: All together now.

Big smiles and...

(SHUTTER CLICKS)

I've moved you to the maternity home in my place, Nurse Anderson.

It'll mean a few extra calls for Sister Frances,

but I think she's ready.

And she's got young legs.

We'll manage, Phyllis, please don't worry.

This seems a lot worse than last time.

I think I should call an ambulance.

No, no, it's just lumbago.

Yes, hospital is best avoided.

(GROANING)

JULIENNE: Nurse Crane, you are clearly in a lot of pain,

and I am going to call an ambulance.

I shan't fight you.

(GRUNTS)

Two, three...

Whatever's happened? What's wrong with Phyllis?

Oh, her back's gone again.

We had to give her gas to get her in the chair.

(ENGINE STARTS)

Emergency - Ward 10.

Sister Monica Joan isn't a fan,

but there are some rather handsome doctors in it.

VALERIE: Budge up, then.

Nurse Crane's diagnosis has been confirmed

- as a trapped sciatic nerve. HILDA: Oh, poor lamb.

That's going to mean beastly old traction, isn't it?

Yes, it is. And I've been advised that she won't be back to work

for at least six weeks.

Pity the doctor that had to tell her that.

Quite.

Fortunately, Mother Mildred has promised to send one of the sisters

for the duration of Nurse Crane's absence,

so, hopefully, Sister Frances, we won't have another day

quite as busy as this one.

Oh, I didn't mind.

I wonder who we'll get.

Good morning, Mr. Buckle!

Mother Mildred.

Good morning.

We wasn't expecting you.

The Almighty likes to keep us guessing.

It is why my devotion to him never stales.

Thank you.

I sat at supper in the refectory and cast my gaze

from one end of the table to the other,

musing prayerfully upon the question, whom might I bequeath?

Vigor is required.

Expertise is required.

Compassion is required.

And thus, I decided that it should be me.

Besides, it's time I learnt how our mission in the East End has evolved.

Now, which of you splendid ladies

would like me to accompany her on her morning's round?

- Perhaps Sister Frances would... - I'm too inexperienced.

Indeed.

If my purpose is to learn, I require an escort of maturity,

with perhaps some glamor for ballast.

It hasn't been used a lot, but I've spruced it up,

oiled it, changed the tires, run it round the block,

and I reckon this is just the ticket for you, Mother Mildred.

Oh, the bicycle.

Curse of the short of limb.

Never fear, Mr. Buckle, the Lord will provide.

I see you have your van close by.

How very fortuitous.

(POP MUSIC PLAYING)

- Don't dawdle. - Coming!

(POP MUSIC CONTINUES TO PLAY)

Oh, good, we want the second floor, I believe.

(PANTING)

Mother Mildred, I am a fully qualified Keep Fit instructor,

but even I am struggling to keep up with an internal combustion engine.

A moment, please.

Of course, Nurse Franklin, I do apologize.

Anyway, erm...

Brittall, Joseph, Mr.

End-stage pneumoconiosis. Poor chap.

Very common among the retired dockers, I'm afraid.

It's the dust in the warehouses.

Well, we must give poor Mr. Brittall and his family what comfort we can.

MOTHER MILDRED: On we go.

Come along, Miss Crane, let's be sensible.

Might be storing up problems if you don't.

I am a State Registered Nurse and a State Certified Midwife,

therefore perfectly well aware of what I may or may not

be storing up, Sister.

I shall let you know when assistance is required.

Thank you.

Oh, actually, Sister, when you have a moment...

..might I trouble you for the use of the telephone?

Well done, Mr. Brittall.

Not the most dignified of positions, I know,

but it gets the circulation going again.

Ain't much dignified in this dying business.

(COUGHS AND WHEEZES)

I've seen many a patient gasp their way

to the finish line without oxygen.

To be able to provide it in the home seems almost miraculous.

(KNOCK ON DOOR)

Mrs. Brittall.

It's clear your father-in-law's in magnificent hands,

I commend you.

We're just glad to have him home.

(DOOR OPENS) It's the hungry hordes already.

Fags out, Granddad's on his tank.

I'm telling you, one of them's going to blow us all up one of these days.

You all right, Dad?

What's that for?

Fell off a crate.

(LAUGHS AND WHEEZES)

Thought it would cheer you up.

We will see you all anon.

We'll be back at the same time tomorrow,

but do telephone if you have any worries at all.

Oi.

Hello, Granddad, you're looking a bit better.

I think it's better not to enquire into the provenance

- of that pineapple. - Nurse.

He wants to ask you something. Go on.

I've got this thing on me neck.

It was just a little nick, but now it's...

I mean, it's likely nothing. She wanted me to ask.

Oh, yes, infected.

It's probably environmental.

I've seen a lot of that sort of thing in the Kowloon slums.

I beg your pardon?

You aren't in Kowloon now, and my house isn't a slum!

I'm quite sure Mother Mildred wasn't implying that.

I ruddy hope not.

If I were you, I'd make an appointment at the surgery.

Dr. Turner might want to give you some antibiotics.

Or a tin of Vim. Come on.

Perhaps it's the strain making her oversensitive.

Nurse Crane has asked for her Spanish textbooks

and the manual on motor maintenance from the public library.

I have a feeling she's in need of distraction.

Perhaps our friend Cyril could oblige with the latter.

And we should let Sergeant Woolf know that Nurse Crane won't be at Cubs.

It's sweet the way they always want to be exactly the same,

right down to the color of the biscuit wrappers.

We've been so lucky with how well they get on.

Shelagh, are you all right?

Oh, I'm just being a bit silly.

We've had the latest letter from the charity, and it's good news, really.

Mr. Tunnocks is much improved and should be out of the sanatorium soon.

So, our next meeting will be to start planning

May's move to her permanent family.

Come here.

I told you I was being silly and selfish.

It's absolutely right that May goes to the home that was meant for her,

but Angela's going to miss her so much.

Angela isn't the only one.

No.

Shelagh, if we have loved that little girl,

then that means we've done what we set out to do.

I hope so.

I was absolutely mortified.

Poor Mrs. Brittall. I think Mother Mildred was lucky to get out alive.

Lucille, are you all right?

You've looked ever so down in the dumps lately.

Have I?

Only in a delicate, subtle, scarcely discernible sort of a way

that I can pinpoint to the exact moment you came home from your date with Cyril.

I'm not going to talk about Cyril.

Why not?

Did something go wrong?

He's not the person I thought he was.

Firstly, he took me to the most unsuitable place.

A West Indian social club where,

secondly, there were several people smoking marijuana.

Was Cyril one of them?

No, he wasn't.

It would be a bit strange, him being a pastor.

Yes, it would.

And you know the worst thing?

He isn't a pastor at all.

What?!

LUCILLE: When I mentioned it, he looked at me as if

I had been smoking marijuana.

He's hardly been to church since he left British Guyana.

The whole evening was a total disaster and I won't be seeing him again.

I have to go, I'm on night duty.

- Valerie. - Yeah.

Who said that Cyril was a pastor?

It was Sister Monica Joan who told...

Oh.

(SIGHS)

You're up early, Fred Buckle.

Yeah, I thought I'd get in sharp and take a look at that dicky boiler

before I go off with Mother Mildred.

Are you remembering about the wholesaler's?

- Oh. - Oh, Fred, love,

you said you'd take me up there. It's three buses.

I can't really say no to Mother Mildred, can I?

I mean, she's a nun and she needs to get round to see her patients.

No, I don't suppose you can.

Just... don't let her take the mick, eh?

Mr. Brittall, it could be something called erysipelas.

I'm starting you on antibiotics as a precaution,

but given your occupation,

I want to get you to the hospital for tests.

Tests? For what?

Well, I'd like to rule out anthrax.

Bloody hell.

DR. TURNER: Have you been unloading any animal products recently?

Bonemeal, skins, anything like that?

I don't know. We get all sorts from all over.

When I started on the docks, there was this fella got anthrax.

Flippin' heck, he died, that bloke.

Which is why I want you to have those tests straight away.

(CHILDREN GIGGLING)

I'm so sorry.

We seem to have turned the room into a bit of a bomb site.

I accept no apologies because no apologies are required.

I relish seeing children enjoy themselves.

And the difference in little May is quite remarkable.

She's made her mark on all of us.

They do, you know.

These little scraps.

They come to us as the wounded ones.

But when they leave us, it is we who bleed.

Does it hurt you to let go of them?

That would be telling.

And I do not tell because my pain is not relevant.

(GASPING)

Can I help you?

I'm in labor.

Why don't you come in and I'll have a look, Mrs...?

Pilkington, and it's Miss.

Why don't you tell me your first name, and I'll call you that?

It's Elaine.

(PANTING)

Lean on me, Elaine.

You've come to the right place.

Ah, Mr. Buckle!

Just the gentleman I want.

I require transportation to the Iris Knight Institute.

I am putting my shoulder to the Mothercraft wheel!

What time do you need to be there, Mother Mildred?

The instant you can oblige.

Thank you.

This is quite a strong foundation garment.

Anthrax.

Sends a chill right through you, doesn't it?

I know this couldn't have come at a worse time for you all.

One of us will be here every day for Joe,

and if there's anything else we can do, please just ask.

You can tell that nun not to come back for a start.

- Mum! - No! Ed, I mean it.

I've got your granddad lying in the back

room, I've got your dad. I'm up to here, love!

I'm not having someone in my house who can't even be bothered to be polite.

I don't think she meant to...

Are you going to tell her nurse, or do I have to do it myself?

Have you had any antenatal care at all?

No, but I know that I'm nine months gone.

- Your cervix is quite dilated. - That means it's coming, doesn't it?

It certainly does.

Is there any one you would like me to call?

LUCILLE: Your boyfriend, perhaps?

No.

- What about your parents? - No!

Elaine, precious...

..how old are you?

17.

Hello, love.

According to her medical records,

Miss Pilkington lives with her parents.

She was adamant that I shouldn't call them.

No parents, no boyfriend.

She hasn't said a word about the baby's father.

If her parents don't know where she is, they'll be worried.

The pregnancy was very well concealed, Doctor.

They might not even know that she's expecting.

(SIGHS)

I've had on nicer outfits.

You look good to me, girl.

A sight for sore eyes.

Gilda...

..you've been the love of my life, girl.

I want you to know that.

If anything...

What's all this?

GILDA: If nothing.

You're going to be all right, Barney Brittall.

I ain't having anything else.

(GASPING)

Good girl, keep breathing.

Really, really good.

Now small, slow pushes.

That's it, precious, you're so near.

Gently now.

Baby's head is just sitting here.

Now we want another push, just like that.

Slowly, slowly.

Yes!

Yes, I have your baby's head in my hand.

(BABY CRIES)

Oh, well done, Elaine. You have a beautiful daughter.

Is she all right?

Can I have her? Can I see her?

Of course you can.

My little darling.

I'm never going to let you go, never.

The very accusation is absurd.

Had Mrs. Brittall ever been to Kowloon, she would know full well

that there could be no comparison!

But she hasn't been to Kowloon,

and she does know what the word "slum" means!

And whether you intended it or not, I'm afraid you've caused offense!

And whether you intended to or not, you have waylaid a religious sister

on the brink of the great silence,

and caused her grave spiritual inconvenience!

- But I... - I suggest we conclude this conversation.

Would you like to put Sarah in the cot while you have some tea and toast?

LUCILLE: Mums need to keep their strength up.

In a minute, maybe.

Elaine?

Sarah isn't your first baby, is she?

You had some stitches last time.

I saw the scar when I was delivering her.

They took him away from me.

I didn't say goodbye.

They told me they were taking him to see a doctor.

I never saw him again.

We don't do things like that here.

I promise you.

But you're going to need to make a plan.

LUCILLE: Your parents don't know you're here, do they?

I told them I was staying with a friend, Etta.

Think how worried they'll be when you don't come back in the morning.

We're going to have to let them know.

Elaine?

You can let them know.

But make sure they know this too - I ain't giving Sarah up.

He had a bad night.

Agitated, you know?

Hasn't been able to say much today.

- Any better? - Yeah.

(DOOR SHUTS)

GILDA: What are you two doing back?

Our wharf shut down.

They've got to check for more anthrax.

- Seven quid back pay. - Blimey!

Well, at least they're taking it seriously.

Do they even know what they're looking for?

Infected bonemeal from the Lebanon.

They've got the actual cargo out, but...

..it could've spread anywhere, so they've got to check.

Is anyone else sick?

Only Dad. (COUGHING)

I don't understand, Sissy.

Our Elaine didn't look any different, did she?

I mean...

..I thought she'd gone up to a B cup. But, you know, she's 17!

Sometimes, when a woman really wants to conceal a pregnancy,

she finds a way, Mrs. Pilkington.

Where did we go wrong?

She was a well-brought-up young lady, Doctor.

Sunday school, church.

We taught her right from wrong.

I'm sure you did.

The deception!

Lying to us for a whole nine months.

Well, thank you, Doctor, for letting us know.

We'll take care of things this end.

I understand Elaine relinquished a baby when she was 15?

Oh, look, it's all right, love, come on.

We'll get through this.

We've still got the number from the agency, don't we?

The thing is, Mr. Pilkington,

this time Elaine seems determined to keep her baby.

Well, unless she has herself a husband tucked away somewhere,

that just isn't going to happen.

Have you seen these from the Cubs?

(LAUGHING)

I suppose it's the thought that counts.

Oh! Did the master mechanic deliver those to our doors?

Such an able young man!

If you mean Cyril, I'm afraid I can't help you there.

Sister Monica Joan?

Lucille thought...

Well, we all thought that Cyril was a pastor.

Oh, but he is.

No, he is not.

So the thing is...

..Lucille doesn't know if she can trust him.

She doesn't know if he told a porky...

..or if someone else did.

Oh.

One did not necessarily mean pastor in the literal sense.

To operate solely on the plane of the literal would be tedious

and would blind one to a greater truth.

What I meant, my dear Nurse Anderson,

is that I had looked into his eyes and seen the soul of a pastor,

which is far more important.

So, Cyril didn't lie to me?

These might make hospital teas a little more palatable for Nurse Crane.

Nurse Dyer, your grandmother rang.

Oh! She'll be getting cross because I haven't

been to see her for a couple of weeks.

When you go, she did ask if you could bring your medical bag.

Oh.

I won't do it.

And how could they even...?

They're supposed to be the people that love me.

Oh, Elaine, I'm sure they do.

They probably just think that, in the circumstances...

Sarah wasn't an accident, Mrs. Turner.

I wanted her. I wanted her so badly!

It was like they ripped out my heart when they took away my little boy.

And now...

..every time I look at her, I can feel it beating again.

Could Sarah's father help you?

I don't even know where he lives.

And I know it wasn't about him.

I just wanted a baby!

I'm sorry.

You're probably shocked.

It wasn't like this the first time.

I would have gone to the ends of the Earth for Benjamin's dad,

even though he didn't want to know about the baby.

No one did.

And now he's out there somewhere, growing up, thinking

- I didn't want him either. - Oh, Elaine.

I'm sure wherever he is, he will be loved so much.

You can't know that!

No, of course not, it's just...

I'm not sure if this will help, but...

..we adopted our daughter and we love her with every fiber of our being.

You're right.

That doesn't help me.

No, I'm sorry.

Gran!

Still alive, then?

I'm sorry I haven't been around for a bit, time just runs away...

I'm kidding with you, darling!

Oh.

You always look so smart in that uniform.

- Want a cup of tea? - Well, I'll make it.

You sit down, tell me what's wrong.

I can't sit down, that's the problem. (MOUTHS)

Like a Whitstable bloody oyster.

Oh!

Oh, Gran!

There's someone here to see you, Mum.

(SIGHS)

I told Nurse Franklin I didn't want you here again.

This is your home, Mrs. Brittall, and if you will not admit me,

I will respect that and leave

the moment I have offered my apologies.

Mind me floor.

I've not long scrubbed it.

Oh, this is a nasty one, Gran.

That's it.

- I'm just going to bathe it in antiseptic. - Ta, darling.

It might sting a bit.

Oh! Sorry.

You know, you really should've gone to the doctor.

I ain't flashing my pins for no one.

If any more come up or this one doesn't heal,

you have got to promise me you'll go to the doctor.

How many backsides do you think he's seen?

I'm telling you, he won't even notice it.

All doctors think about are the ill bits.

Do you promise me?

- All right. - All right.

Oh, no, don't touch them!

It's all the work clothes.

Nurse Franklin told me to boil-wash them in case there were any spores.

Any infected bloody bonemeal.

Aren't they provided with overalls?

Who by?

The bosses? No!

The men, they wear their own shirts, their own slacks,

an old suit jacket that's seen better days.

That's appalling!

Why Barney, eh?

His dad's already dying because of the job he did.

What have my sons got coming to get them?

Any news on the new flat?

It's getting to be a bit of a ghost town round here.

Well, they rehouse the families first, don't they?

Fair enough, really.

Could be soon, though.

There's only a few of us left.

Don't forget to take your ice cream money when you go.

I don't need money, Gran! I've got a job!

Oh, come on!

You and your cousins always had money for ice cream on your way home.

You ain't forgotten, have you?

Of course not.

Go on.

Help yourself. You know where it is.

Take ten shillings.

I will not. I will take two bob and no more.

You did all right, girl.

Thanks, Gran.

Val?

Don't be a stranger.

Thank you, May.

You can go and play with your toys, May, if you're fed up with the grown-ups talking.

She's come a long way in the time that she's been here.

It's going to be quite a wrench for all of us when she goes.

Yes, I'm sure it must be difficult not to get attached.

Mrs. Taylor, we want to do the very best we can

to ease May into her new family.

Can you recommend anything that will help?

She's had to cope with so many changes in her life already,

and she's only four.

Well, I think seeing that pony in the Tunnocks' paddock

will be of some assistance.

Look, it's best not to make a fuss.

Children are resilient.

And, in the long run, memories of this age will be very hazy.

Really?

I remember falling out of my cot when I was two.

Trust me, Dr. Turner, I have done this before.

We're back at barracks, Mother Mildred.

I've been contemplating the plight of the two Mr. Brittalls.

The dock workers have no protective clothing

and no knowledge of the goods they handle.

A couple of years ago, my cousin's lad

was carrying ammunition.

He didn't have a clue what it was until a crate hit the ground

and it went up like Guy Fawkes.

It was a miracle no one was killed.

If 50 years in the religious life have taught me anything,

it's that miracles are in very short supply.

We had better not rely on them.

The childcare officer seemed to think

that May won't mind being handed over like a parcel.

I mean, I know she's going to a lovely home, but she's four years old.

She's already lost her mother, her country, her language.

If we just disappear as well, how will she understand

that the same thing won't happen to her new family?

Is there anything you can do to help?

That's what I was hoping the childcare officer could help with.

She seemed to think you could just rub out the past,

which doesn't make a lot of sense to me,

especially after seeing Elaine Pilkington.

Trust your instincts, Shelagh.

You all right, Val?

- You all right, Bill? - Yeah.

(SIGHS)

(DOORBELL RINGS)

Cor blimey, all right!

- Oh. - Good morning, Mr. Buckle.

I come as Boadicea, girded for battle.

Dare I presume my chariot awaits?

VIOLET: Who's that ringing the bell at this time in the morning?!

It's all right, love, it's for me.

All I know is that the dock has been closed until further notice.

(WORKERS GROAN) I'm sorry, lads! My hands are tied!

The men want to know when, Mr. McGregor.

Well said, Pete.

I don't know when.

Come back and see tomorrow. I can't say anything else!

(MEN GROANING)

Ah! Greetings, Mr. Brittall and Mr. Brittall.

- Has something happened? - No, no, all is well.

I'm hoping to confer with Mr. McGregor.

I think we all are.

Might have to get in the queue, Sister.

Your members want to get back to work - so do I.

If you had listened to my members in the first place...

Good morning, gentlemen.

Good morning, Sister.

Mother.

Can I help you?

I hope so.

As you're aware, one of your workers is gravely ill in hospital

with anthrax poisoning.

Meanwhile, his father is dying at home of pneumoconiosis.

Both might have been prevented with proper clothing, equipment and information.

Have you been talking to him?

Do you advise me to?

Peter Jessop, Dockers' Union.

Shop steward.

Do you have an appointment with Dr. Turner

or are you here for the maternity home?

Erm, the second one.

Erm, patient name of, (SOFTLY) Pilkington.

Oh, yes, Miss Pilkington.

We're going to try to help you stop all this nonsense with men.

Put it all behind us, eh?

- Your mother's spoken with the agency... - No!

No, I told them to tell you I'm not giving her up.

Don't be silly, love.

Marriage is the place for babies, Elaine.

You know that.

We've got a business, decent people as customers.

We can't go waving this in their faces!

(SARAH CRIES)

LUCILLE: Someone's woken up very hungry.

- Oh, dear! - Dad!

Can't you just... give her a bottle somewhere else, Nurse?

Why won't you look at her?

- She's your granddaughter! - No, she isn't.

She is, Dad!

Her name is Sarah and she's beautiful.

Please.

I'm not going home without her.

I've had enough of this nonsense.

No one can say I haven't tried.

No, Mum. Mum, please don't go.

Mum, I love you. Mum!

- Mummy! - Oh, precious.

Oh!

Dust really does go straight down the pipes, doesn't it?

Which is why a lot of our members have got lungs of wood,

like old Joe Brittall.

Now, sometimes, you can guess the cargo by how it feels on your chest,

and the fibers on your clothes.

Have you never asked for any protective clothing?

We went on strike in '62.

We wanted for overalls and gloves and masks.

- Nothing. - Hmm.

And then, this year, we thought we'd got a bit of victory.

PETER: We got these.

A bit of tin and a bit of gauze.

They clog up in 20 minutes flat.

They're useless.

I'm nearly 65.

I wish I was retiring with something more to show for it than that.

Well, perhaps your legacy will leave something

for the next generation to build on.

I didn't know nuns were interested in politics.

Mr. Jessop, nuns are interested in morality.

Elaine, you can't support a baby on your own with no family around you.

It would be so hard.

There was a girl in a mother-and-baby home that kept hers.

She got a place in a hostel and National Assistance.

That is very little money to get you by.

I've got a good typing speed.

And there's piecework you can do at home,

envelopes for mail orders and that.

I've had nine months to think about it, Nurse.

I know it will be hard, but...

..nothing can be as hard as what I've already done.

Now, there is an organization called

the National Council for the Unmarried Mother.

They might be able to help.

But she's only 17 and totally alone.

She'll spend her whole life struggling and facing disapproval.

Should we be encouraging her to do that?

I don't think our encouragement is here nor there, Nurse Anderson.

Young Elaine only has two possible roads to go down.

She's choosing the one she can bear.

He used to be such a big man, just like my dad.

It's a very cruel disease.

Mum's scared for me and our John.

She doesn't want us working down the docks no more.

What do you want, Ed?

I don't want to leave.

It's hard graft, but you're busy and you have a laugh.

Good money, too, when you're working.

You know, it's father to son, ain't it?

MOTHER MILDRED: Mmm.

Giving up would be like abandoning one of our own.

I had this...

..stupid idea that...

Well, instead of leaving,

I'd stand for shop steward when Peter Jessop retires.

Why is that a stupid idea?

Too young.

- Who'd vote for a 21-year-old? - Why not?

You're intelligent, forthright, and when it comes to arguing

for better protection, your experience gives you moral authority.

I'd vote for you myself had life placed me differently.

Do you mind if I join you?

No, please.

I've come to apologize for calling you a liar.

I'm so sorry.

Sister Monica Joan thinks it counts if you're a pastor on the inside.

(LAUGHS)

Why would she think...?

Because she likes you, because she knows I go to church.

Because she knows you're the kind of woman

who does not approve of smoking marijuana.

That, too.

Well, I'm the kind of man who does not approve either.

But, you know, there are other reasons to go to a social club.

I'm in a new country.

I get homesick for the music.

And for not being the only person in the room who looks like me.

I get homesick for that, too.

It's one of the things I like about my church.

Is it a friendly place?

A very friendly place.

Maybe one Sunday you'd like to come along?

Oh, Fred, love, not again.

You've got to ask her for some petrol money,

and they should be paying you for all these extra hours.

- Oh, love, it doesn't matter. - It does, love.

Just because she's a nun, it doesn't mean to say

that she won't take advantage.

I managed to negotiate a compassionate temporary discharge

for Barney Brittall so he can see his father.

Is Joe Brittall very near the end?

Barney, meanwhile, appears to be giving anthrax

quite the run for its money.

He will recover in due course.

Well, at least that news will be a comfort to the family.

One would hope so.

Mr. Buckle is poised to transport me to the scene.

If it's Fred you're looking for, he's at the petrol station,

and whilst he's there, we need to have a word.

Preferably in your office.

Morning, Miss Higgins.

No. Sir, excuse me, we're not open yet.

The trouble is, Mother Mildred, my Fred is a very kind man,

and I wouldn't have him any other way, but he's generous to a fault.

He struggles to say no to anyone,

and when it comes to nuns, he's hopeless.

He's been the most immense support to me and my work

with the dockers and their rights.

What about his rights?

He has to earn a living, too. He shouldn't be exploited.

Have I made another error of judgment?

Nurse Crane usually delivers a weekly mileage chit for her petrol expenditure.

Would that be an acceptable solution?

Well, it gets us halfway there.

I mean, what about his time?

Appropriate recompense can be arranged.

Hmm.

And no telling him I came round here, because he'd be mortified.

I'm sorry, Mother Mildred.

I came here to learn and I'm learning every day.

Well, that's that, I suppose.

I'm so sorry, Elaine.

At least it's got new ribbon.

I'm going to need to make some of those cards

to put in the shop windows and that.

Then people that need typing done can contact me.

Once I know where I'm going to be.

Let me see if I can help with that.

How are you doing, Joe, love?

MOTHER MILDRED: A little water, Mr. Brittall.

Keep talking, Mrs. Brittall. The hearing is the last thing to go.

(SOBS)

Pete Jessop was asking for you, Granddad.

Wasn't he, Ed?

Yeah.

Yeah, he said you was the strongest man on the wharf when he started.

Hang on in there, love.

Barney's coming. (SNIFFLING)

(DOOR OPENS)

That's him.

Look who's here, Granddad.

Dad's home.

Hello, Dad.

They let me out for good behavior.

They had a list of sympathetic landladies

from the Council of Unmarried Mothers.

I thought this one sounded about the best.

She's got a space and she's not too far away.

Miss Higgins says to warn you it won't be Buckingham Palace,

but it will be much nicer than a hostel.

She's all right about Sarah?

Yes, she is.

You'll qualify for National Assistance until she's five,

which should cover the rent and the bare essentials.

Oh, I don't know what to say.

Thank you so much.

I thought you might try and make me go back to that mother-and-baby home.

It's not going to be easy, Elaine.

I know.

But at least you can get started on these little advertisement cards.

(BREATHING SLOWLY)

Rest eternal Grant unto him, oh Lord

And let light perpetual shine upon him

May he rest in peace

And rise in glory.

If I miss a bit, are you going to arrest me?

Oh, you're doing well.

(DOOR SHUTS)

Ah!

Could you please give these to Nurse Crane

with my warmest wishes for her speedy recovery?

Thank you, Sergeant Woolf, I'm sure she'll be delighted.

My gift is my presence.

I don't like attending hospitals.

I have only had one positive experience.

I'm sure Nurse Crane will appreciate that, too.

Send her my best.

I'm going to go with them so I may not be here when you finish.

Oh, thank you, Sister.

Sister?

I think you've made a mistake. I don't think this one's mine.

No mistake, Fred.

Mind how you go.

Tell the boys, mate.

Thank you. Cheers.

I've got enough nominations to stand.

John wants to help me.

Dad, too.

I won't do it if you say no.

I just wanted something safer for my sons.

Well, then, I'll make it safer, for everyone's sons.

Maybe even my own someday.

Oh. How can I stop you doing that, then, eh?

(SINGING) Standing on the promises of Christ, my King

Through eternal ages let his praises ring

Glory in the highest I will shout and sing

Standing on the promises of God

Standing

Standing on the promises of God, my Savior

Standing

I am standing on the promises of God

Standing on the promises I cannot fail...

(SINGING FADES)

MATURE JENNY: So, where in the end do we belong?

In the eyes of another, where we see ourselves reflected?

Or arm in arm, with those whose faces echo ours,

whose blood we share?

Or is it in the heart of the family we create,

where we are safest and best known and never lonely?

Perhaps we belong where love can bloom,

because we give it room to put down roots

and space in which to thrive.

Seeds fly in upon the wind and settle where they will.

We all belong somewhere.

If we're not nurtured as we should be, we must find a choice to make,

a place to go,

a harbor where the storm is held at bay.

Sometimes simply belonging to each other is enough,

and what matters is not to struggle but where we find our peace.

From tomorrow morning, your name will be on the call board.

A Brook Advisory Center would be a boon to Poplar.

Come my big day... (POPS)

Ooh, as simple as that.

Run, Miss Packer.

It's my waterworks, I want to go for a wee.