All language subtitles for Call The Midwife 8x02 - Episode 2

1964 brought new
energy to medicine.

An ever stronger sense that
people could be helped.

Things could be done.

SHE RINGS BICYCLE BELL Careful!

Sorry, Nurse.

There was change
in the air,

but also a feeling that
the old ways

still held sway.

A hanging on.

A never letting go.

Thank you, Mrs Adler. Thank you.

I'll see you next week.

Keep up the good work.

That's the last of the ulcer
patients.

No sign again of your
Miss Millgrove.

It's the second treatment session
that she's missed.

Oh, that's worrying.

I'll add her to this
evening's house calls.

There's no need to go
looking for work.

You're already very
over-committed, Doctor.

Nurse Anderson,
please add Miss Millgrove

to your district rounds
this afternoon.

That's you told. Of course.

I'll put her on my list.

Thank you, Nurse Anderson.

Clinic! Thank you, Miss Higgins.

Ch-e-ese.

Thank you!
It's a very big day for us.

Nobody's interested in our business!

Hey, it's not every day
the Aidoo family

applies for British citizenship!
Come on, let's go!

Let's go, let's go.

Mind out!

You're wasting your
time there, love.

No-one's seen her for weeks.

She won't even come to the door
for the man from the council.

Pest man.

I've got mice in my floorboards and
mould in my walls

because of her filth.

And they say it's
the foreigners who are dirty.

No offence.

Miss Millgrove? Nurse calling!

Excuse me? What's your name?

Maureen Parkin.

Well, Maureen,
can you run for a policeman?

I think something has happened to
the lady who lives here.

She was fine when I was in earlier.

I fetch her groceries.

That's very neighbourly.
Not really. She pays me.

Oh, don't tell me mother.

She wouldn't like me taking money.

Listen, Maureen,

I won't tell your mother if you tell
me how you get that shopping

into Miss Millgrove's house.

Nurse calling.

May I come in?

I've been sent by Dr Turner.

Miss Millgrove?

Miss Millgrove? Is that you, girl?

My name is Nurse Anderson.

Please don't be alarmed.

I was concerned for your wellbeing,

so I persuaded young Maureen
to let me in.

Be gone!
I shall send for the police!

I'm sorry, Miss Millgrove,
but you require medical attention.

And if you will not allow me
to treat you,

I will be obliged to send for Dr
Turner. You will not!

I will so!

This queue's moving rather slowly.

I'd help you out, but Nurse Anderson
covering the district roster

has left us terribly short-handed.
Thank you.

But, really, I can manage.

Someone's feeling the cold.
It's Master Aidoo.

He's off school with
aches and pains, apparently.

The last thing we need
is a dose of influenza.

I'll make a precautionary foray
with the thermometer.

No need. I've already taken his
temperature. Oh.

No fever present.

And there's nothing wrong
with his appetite.

I tested it with two digestives
and a pink wafer.

Excellent use of initiative.

But you might want to desist
with the biscuit tin.

He'll be putting you down
as a soft touch.

And a sharp scratch.

I'll be as quick as I can.

Take all the time you need,
as long as I don't need to watch.

Oh, I know. Blood. Yuck!

I don't mind anyone else's

but as soon as
I catch a glimpse of my own...

Were you anaemic in your
last pregnancy, Mrs Aidoo?

Yes. Just like this.
The same tiredness.

There's nothing in your notes.

Ah, we were living back home
when my son was born.

In Accra. Ah, the Gold Coast?
Yes.

But we're called Ghana now.
Of course. Independence.

And you're taking the tablets
I prescribed? Twice a day.

And my husband feeds me brown
beer and liver. Good man.

Ah, finger on that for me.

I'm sorry. This treatment is always
rather painful.

Worse when it's being botched.

Do you have a nursing background,
Miss Millgrove?

The school room was my vocation.

But, as a young woman,

I served as a voluntary ambulance
driver on the Eastern Front.

Only I'd expect someone with
medical knowledge to know

the importance of keeping
doctors' appointments.

And of maintaining a hygienic home.

My home is my business.

I'm afraid that's not so.

I have a duty to inform the Welfare
Officer

if I think you're not managing.
I am managing!

I see you've made efforts
to dress your ulcers.

But your environment is unsanitary.

And I can't imagine how you find
your way out to the bathroom

when nature calls. Young woman!

You have a most impertinent manner.

With respect, Miss Millgrove,
so do you.

I'll admit, I find the trek
to the lavatory rather a chore.

I can help with that. For every
problem, there is a solution.

That's the first sensible thing
you've said all day.

It came in the first post!
I've been selected!

Oh, that's nice. Good for you.

Are we celebrating?

I've been chosen to run
for election to the new

Tower Hamlets Borough Council.

Congratulations, Mrs Buckle!

The man they chose first took a turn
and had to pull out.

So, here I am! Vote Violet Buckle!

Oh, I shall reserve my decision
until I've had

a thorough perusal
of your manifesto.

I don't put my cross in the box
for any old rubbish.

Well, you were the one who wanted
to go into politics...

And, then, after my round,
Mr Thompson took me aside.

He told me I have potential
for advancement.

So, I asked him if I can be
considered for

the supervisor's training. Did he
say yes? No. But he didn't say no.

Hey, some of the men from
the sorting office

have asked me if I'll try out for
their football team. Football? You?

I know. But it makes me one of the
lads.

Here, I'll get that.

You sit down, you should be resting.
Hey, yeah.

Midwife calling!

Oh, Sister. Please, do come in.

No need for any fuss.
It's a flying visit.

Mrs Aidoo, I'm afraid your iron
levels are still lower

than Doctor would like.

He's arranged for further
investigations at St Cuthbert's.

And the baby will need to be
delivered in the maternity home

rather than here in your flat.

But the tablets were supposed to
make my wife better. Yes.

I know. You have been taking them,
Mrs Aidoo?

Only some women don't understand
the seriousness of anaemia...

We understand perfectly.

We are educated people.

Please, forgive my husband.

He has a post-graduate
qualification.

He's very proud of his achievements.

And so he should be.

You must be frightfully clever,
Mr Aidoo.

Now, I shall respectfully withdraw.

Not at school, young man?

He suffers from growing pains.

He'll be back
in the classroom tomorrow.

If he isn't, do take him to be
checked by Dr Turner.

Of course.

Ah. Good evening, Sister.

I wonder if you've had any thoughts
about the upcoming election?

Oh, yes, Mrs Buckle, you are
as Queen Zenobia -

about to conquer!

Improving and developing

leisure facilities is at the
heart of my manifesto.

We're all going to have a lot more
leisure time

when workers
start being replaced by machines.

I'd like to see a robot trying to
do any of our jobs.

Obviously, that bit
wouldn't apply to you.

Did I mention, erm,
dustbin collections?

At length. And libraries, road
repairs, adult education,

the state of the kiddies'
play parks

and the paucity of safe
crossing places on our minor roads.

I know it seems like small potatoes,

but it's the little things
that make a community.

It used to be that folk that lived
round here had family to rely on,

but Poplar's changing.

Old families are moving out,
fresh ones are moving in.

I want to make Poplar a place

that feels like home to all
her residents - old and new.

That's how we build a community
that can thrive, and expand,

and be rich in opportunity for all.

All those in favour of the election
of Mrs Buckle, say "aye".

Aye.

Aye.

"Jane likes the dog and Peter
likes the dog."

Don't worry. Mamma's fine.

But can you be a big boy for me?

You know where Daddy is?

Can you run and fetch him
as fast as you can?

Come on, mate,
you can do better than that.

You all right, mate? Yeah, sorry.

I just need a minute.
You carry on.

Son? Son, what's, what's
the matter? Where's your mother?

I'm hoping I can clear her
some space.

Maybe get rid of some of the
old tins of food.

Or start organising her huge
collection of books.

That's very thoughtful of you.
But I'm sure you can find other ways

to spend your evening off.
I don't mind.

I know everyone thinks
Miss Millgrove is a terrible tyrant,

but I'm quite fond of her.

Sorry to interrupt,
that was Mr Aidoo on the phone.

His wife's gone into labour.
That's my anaemic lady.

But I gave her strict instructions
to go to the maternity home

at the first sign of labour. I fear
it's a little too late for that.

Ah, well, if she's to deliver at
home, then Dr Turner

will need to attend.
I'll inform him. Thank you.

Now, all I need is a second
in command. Nurse Franklin?

Yes, Ma'am.

Nurse Anderson? Sister?

Nurse Anderson, I understand
there is a library

in need of organisation.

Without my assistance, I fear it may
fall prey

to the unimaginative strictures
of your Dewey Decimal System.

I've built a rapport with this
family, so I'll take the tiller.

Very well.

I'll just stand
and manicure my nails.

Oh, don't worry, I'll have plenty
of little jobs for you.

Thank you, Mr Aidoo.
You may make yourself scarce.

Hot water and towels, please, Nurse.

Hot water and towels,
please, sweetie.

Help is at hand. I feel it.

Let's pop you on the bed.

You have no right to open my house
to all and sundry.

If we do not make
an impression on this chaos,

Welfare Services will be obliged
to find you a place in a home.

I have a home!

She speaks of an
old person's home.

Thank you, Sister.

Now, you were to make a list of
items that can be disposed of.

Thank you.

There is only one item on this list.

You may remove all tins of rhubarb.

Canned cannot compete with fresh.

Newly cut and dipped in sugar!

With a sprinkle of salt.

A Scottish habit, perhaps.

Like too much
Robert Louis Stevenson.

No such thing.

Oh! This is more like it!
My old friend, the Greeks!

Miss Millgrove,
we are simpatico after all.

I have a first edition

of Pope's most excellent translation
of the Iliad.

I shall bring it to you
on the occasion of my next visit.

Oh, yes, please!

That's it, nice and gentle, darling.

Breathe out, slow and steady.

Oh, well done! We have a baby!

Mrs Aidoo, it is my privilege
to inform you

that you have a daughter.

A girl? Really? Are you sure?

Absolutely.

I did check.

She's perfect!

Yes, she is.

Well done.

Oh! Speedy placenta!

Are you all right there, Flora?
You look a little clammy.

I do feel odd.
Let's pop the baby in her cot.

Sister Hilda,
is the placenta complete?

Yes, it appears to be.

So, tell me, dear, does the Ghanaian
culture have any special customs

regarding the afterbirth?

I don't want to whisk it off to the
incinerator if you have other plans.

I hadn't thought about it...
Sister Hilda.

You may scoff, Nurse,

but sometimes our colonial brothers
and sisters do things differently.

Flora's pulse is 120.

And brisk blood loss. Oh, gosh.

I'm, I'm frightfully sorry,
I... I got distracted! Flora.

We need to get you lying flat.
Can you come down the bed, sweetie?

Sister Hilda, I'm rubbing
a contraction.

Can you administer the ergometrine,
please? Yes. Yes. Of course.

Slight scratch, darling.

What's happening?

You're losing a little bit of blood,

but we'll have you as right as rain
in a moment or two.

You're in splendid
hands. Absolutely. Flora?

Flora, keep your eyes open, sweetie!

Her pulse is improving.

And so is the bleeding.
Oh, thanks be to God.

Good girl, Flora.

You've been a trouper.

We need to transfer her to either
the hospital or the maternity home.

No, I want to stay at home.

With my baby.

Your baby can come, too, but you've
lost a lot of blood,

you need a top up. Nurse Franklin
will telephone for an ambulance.

And on your way, you can tell
Mr Aidoo that he has a daughter.

Or you can leave all that to me.

I'm perfectly happy to oblige,

since you asked so nicely.

Congratulations are in order,
Mr Aidoo.

You have the most
beautiful baby girl.

Do you hear that, Matthew?
You have a baby sister!

My wife, is she well?

Yes. She lost some blood, so
she's a little weak.

We're waiting for the doctor.
He'll arrange the blood transfusion.

I imagine you'd like to give those
to Mummy and your new baby? Yes.

Are we ready for visitors,
Sister Hilda?

I believe we are. >

That poster should have gone
up yesterday.

And remember, when transferring
a patient into the ambulance,

bend your knees.

It's going to be tough enough
operating in a nuclear environment

without adding backache
to your problems.

Apologies, gentlemen, but you need
to be packing up.

Er, no! We've got ten minutes yet.

Sorry, but I need to get set up
for the hustings.

For the elections.

Right, lads, that's us,
we got our marching orders.

The Black Sail? Yeah, I'll be
right behind you.

Oh, no, you're not, Fred Buckle.

There'll be quite a crowd tonight,

so you can help me
set the chairs out.

And then you can sit in one of them
and cheer me along.

Sh...

Sh...

KNOCK ON DOOR Enter.

Ah. How is Mrs Aidoo?

The transfusion's going
through nicely. Good.

It was a heavy loss
for someone with anaemia.

Doctor, may I mention something?

After I stayed on in South Africa,
I saw two women - sisters,

as it happened - with similar
symptoms to Flora Aidoo.

Anaemia and large
post-partum bleeds.

Were they Xhosa ladies?

No, they were migrants
from somewhere in West Africa.

One of them was a widow.

She told me that, where they were
from, there was a... a sickness

that ran through some families
like a curse.

Do you think it might be appropriate
to run some extra tests?

It's always appropriate
when you need answers.

And something about this just
doesn't feel quite right.

Look at him!
He's more handsome than ever!

Maybe if your Mr Poitier was running
for the Borough Council,

you'd be more inclined to vote.

I haven't been here long enough
to deserve a say. Nonsense.

You've heard what Mrs Buckle says -
we're all part of the new Poplar.

You know, it would be quite the
achievement

if she were to be elected. There are
a couple of communists running

in other wards. I wonder what
Mr Buckle makes of that.

I imagine he doesn't know or he'd be
ranting about it

being the thin edge of the wedge.

One minute, it's a Communist
councillor talking about equality

for all, and the next we're working
in the gulag, wearing furry hats

that ruin our bouffants.

Ooh! We'll have to lay in
extra lacquer.

Though I do think the Soviets have
got some things right.

Gorgeous Mr Gagarin can take me into
orbit any day of the week.

"My Girl"
by The Temptations

I am eager to represent
your interests today.

I am Violet Buckle...

? When it's cold outside

? I've got the month of May

? I guess you'd say

? What can make me feel this way?

? My girl My girl

? My girl

? Talkin' 'bout my girl

? My girl

? I've got so much honey

? The bees envy me

? Well, I guess you'd say

? What can make me feel this way?

? My girl My girl

? My girl

? Talkin' 'bout my girl

? My girl. ?

Elizabeth for the Queen.

And Akua because she was born
on a Wednesday.

She's adorable.

And what do you think of the new
addition, young man?

She looks like a grumpy old man.

Hey, that is your sister you're
talking about!

Though when she cries,
that's exactly what she looks like.

Oh, she won't be doing much crying.

A proper, British girl living in
London town.

What a life she'll have.

Every day we thank God
for our blessings.

Someone's looking after you.
Your iron levels are much improved.

I feel like a whole new person.

Well, the important thing is that
you have your vim and vigour back.

Nurse calling!

Oh no! It's all right, I'm here now.

Ah, I was trying to use that blasted
contraption

that caused me to tumble!
Now get me up.

I've lain here quite long enough
with my drawers round my knees.

You're freezing!

Tell me you've not been lying here
all night and day?

Of course not!

Could you say again,
please?

Er, yes, yes, of course, thank you.

Goodbye.

That was Nurse Anderson.

Do you need me to put your
tea on hold? Oh, no.

But Clarice Millgrove
has had a fall.

I think she's reached the stage
where she'll need help

if she's to stay in her own home.

Oh, dear. Sorry, Timothy.

Mathematics revision.
There's a test on Monday.

I'd think you'd have more
quiet upstairs.

It's Teddy's nap time. Ah.

No, it's not ideal having
to share a bedroom.

It's just about bearable.

But if I'm not going to humiliate
myself on Monday,

I could do with
a bit of quiet. Absolutely.

There is an easier way to do
that equation... Thank you!

Oh, good.

I was hoping you'd pop by.

Can you do yourself a fried egg?

Only I want to get straight out
canvassing again tonight.

Any more eggs, I'll turn into
a chicken.

I'll get myself a pint and a pie
down at the Black Sail.

Right, spit it out.

What? Since I got my selection,
you've had a right face on.

If I didn't know better, I'd be
thinking that you weren't behind me.

It's just... It's politics, Vi.

The only thing that politicians are
good at is starting trouble.

Look at the Cold War!

Yes, but it's the Town Hall I'd be
sitting in, not the Kremlin.

If you really want to make
a difference, you should sign up

to do voluntary ambulance training
like me and the lads at the CDC.

Cos when that bomb drops,
the emergency services are going to

need all the volunteers
they can get.

No, thank you very much.

While you're out gadding about
in the nuclear fallout,

I'll be tucked up
in the shelter with Reggie.

You see, that's the difference, Vi.

There's them what give it all that

and there's them what do.

But you...

..carry on.

Patrick, it's gone 12.

I thought we'd made a pact that we'd
all try to be in bed

before the clock strikes midnight.

I thought I just heard Tim moving
around upstairs.

Is he still up? Yes.

And you know how much he wants
to study medicine.

I sometimes feel like I've been
studying medicine for 35 years.

It looks as though our Ghanaian lady

is suffering from something
called sickle cell disease.

I've never heard of that.
Neither had I.

It seems it's a blood disease that
causes anaemia and pain.

It only affects specific racial
groups - mainly Africans -

so, needless to say,

there's precious little
in the British textbooks.

It's shameful, really.

The population around here
is changing.

I have to be prepared to deal with
new things all the time.

Patrick,
you're dealing with them now.

And Mrs Aidoo's been doing
very well. For now.

And, reading this,
there's a lot more work to do.

I'm going to refer Miss Millgrove
to the Meals On Wheels service.

I'll also recommend additional help
for dressing and toileting

and an arrangement for emptying
of the commode.

You can strike that last one
from your list.

Miss Millgrove is reluctant
to use the commode,

but she'll get the hang of it.

No, I will not.

But the trek to the outside toilet
is too much for you.

Don't you worry. I have my ways.

And what are these "ways",
Miss Millgrove?

Oh, come along, Clarice, you're not
the first and you won't be the last.

Where do you put your business?

This woman has parted
with her reason.

Remove her from my home.

Normally, I'd look
for a loose floorboard,

but given floor space
is in short supply...

I said, get her out!

No, no! Please...

It was a long walk to the lavatory.

It was a temporary measure.

Have you been experiencing any pain?

Maybe after exertion
or in the cold weather?

No. Nothing.

Can this sickness be cured?

There isn't a cure as such.

Not yet.

Can a person die from this sickness?

Sometimes...

..a person's lifespan
can be shortened.

You said this illness runs in
families.

I had an uncle in Ghana.

He had pains,
and died as a young man.

It is possible that he had
sickle cell disease, too.

But the most important thing,
Mrs Aidoo, is to look after you.

And your family.

Could I have given this
to my children?

Have they had any symptoms?

Matthew's been having pains, Doctor.

I thought they were growing pains!

And they may still be
no more than that.

Children are always children.

And the disease has to be inherited
from both parents.

My husband is well.

I think the sensible thing would be
for me to take blood from

Mr Aidoo and from Matthew.

I can send it to
the hospital to be tested.

I do not need a test.

I have the pains.

In my legs. In my arms.

Since I came to this country,
I suffer from them all the time.

You have hid this from me?

A sick husband is no husband.

Without my wage, we cannot afford
to stay in England.

Neither can we afford to go home.

You need not test me.

But you must test our son.

Poor woman.

The indignity.

She is to be transferred
to a nursing home.

I only came back to collect
spare dressings.

I don't want her to be alone
when the transport comes for her.

As nurses, we care for others.
To do that effectively,

we must care for ourselves.

And that means knowing when to stop.

I understand, Sister.

But, please, let me do this.

I know what it is to feel that I
must leave the place where I belong.

And a sticking plaster,
please, Sister.

Bravo, young man.
Not so much as a wobbly lip.

Now, I usually have a little
something in this bag

for patients who've been
particularly brave.

Oh, no.

Where's it gone?

Oh, wait a moment - here it is.

Thank you!

Now, why don't you run along
while I talk to Mummy and Daddy.

If it turns out that he has
sickle cell, too,

we will do the very best
we can for him.

I'll let you know as soon as
I get the test results.

I've packed enough
for the first day or two.

Once you're settled,
I can bring more.

What will become of my possessions?

You needn't worry,
they'll be taken care of.

Burnt on a bonfire?

Is there anything
you'd like to take with you?

Anything of value?

It's all of value.

That's your transport arrived.

I'll let the driver in.

I'll see myself out, thank you.

I'd like a moment.

Of course.

Why don't I take out your bag?

Suppose this means I'll have to
get a new job, then.

I suppose it does.

Is she ready, nurse?

The lady would like to make her own
way out of her home.

She's steady on her feet when she
puts her mind to it.

And don't you forget it.

You'll have to carry me
out in a box! I'm staying put!

Enter.

Excuse me, Sister.

I found a refugee on the doorstep.

And I'm not quite sure
what to do with him.

Good evening, Sister.

I wondered if you might be able
to find me a quiet corner.

I need to study and I'm finding it
hard to concentrate.

Certainly. I have chores to do,
you can use my desk.

Gosh. Thank you.

Take as long as you need.

I don't imagine having three little
ones in the house

is conducive to peace and quiet.

It's not the little ones
who are the problem.

To every problem,
there is a solution.

Mr Buckle.

Are we on a war footing?

Big day for the Civil Defence today.

The St John's Ambulance Brigade are
letting us go out with them

on the ambulances.

Voluntary, like, you know,
for the experience.

Excellent.

And how is Mrs Buckle? Excited about
the upcoming elections?

Oh, well,
she's the only woman standing.

I don't reckon she's got
much of a chance.

I'm sure whatever the result,
you'll be very proud of her.

I hoped to find details of
a relative, but every address in

Miss Millgrove's diary has been
scored through.

Great age is no blessing.

Don't mind me.
I'm just here to fix a leaky tap.

Was Miss Millgrove in the war?

She drove an ambulance in Serbia.

May I see that, please?

Hm. This is a suffragette medal.

I was left very similar by my
Aunt Lillian, who was arrested

and ended up on hunger strike
in Holloway.

After a week, the wardens held her
down while a doctor

rammed a filthy, rubber feeding tube
down her throat.

Sadly, it looks as though your Miss
Millgrove could tell the same story.

"Fed by force.

"12.10.1912."

Between her suffrage
and her war work,

I imagine Miss Millgrove endured
many privations in her early life.

It is no wonder she now finds
comfort in plenty. Indeed.

Lucille? Phone call for you.

It's the Welfare Officer.

Thank you.

Is something amiss?

The court has granted an
emergency order.

Miss Millgrove will be removed
from her home this morning.

I expected as much.

It is for the best.

To be taken against her will?

If this is the respect to be
afforded a woman of substance,

what hope is there
for the rest of us?

Miss Millgrove cannot look
after herself.

If she is left alone in that house,
she will not survive.

The court has acted out of kindness.

Kindness?

Will the court be so "kind"
as to banish me from my home

when I can no longer care
for myself?

No, Sister. Your home is here.

For the sake of her dignity,

you must encourage her to leave
of her own accord.

Nurse Anderson has already done more
than she should regarding this case.

I was not one of
Miss Millgrove's number.

She and her comrades displayed
courage...

..beyond my capabilities.

But not beyond yours.

Summon up that courage

and do what must be done.

I'm not saying they weren't brave.

I'm just saying that, well, it seems
like an awful lot of bother

to go to just to put an X in a box.

I mean,
I don't bother half the time.

Especially in the local elections.

To change the world one lives in,
one must start with where one lives!

Hear, hear! Now, now, ladies.

Mr Buckle is quite within his rights
to abstain from exercising

his democratic rights.

Though if Mrs Buckle is pipped to
the post by only one vote,

we won't want to hear
any complaints.

Especially if the candidate

that beats her is a member
of the communist party.

Yes.

Thank you for calling.

I'll let the family know.

That was the haematologist
at St Cuthbert's.

That nice little African family?

I imagine you'd like me to make
them an appointment.

Add them to my list for this
morning's rounds.

I promised I wouldn't keep
them waiting.

Right.

Joel?

I can't... I can't...

I can't...

Mrs Aidoo, may I come in?

My husband is very sick!

This is pethidine.

It might make you feel
a little woozy.

I have to finish my round. No.

You need to go to hospital.

Immediately.

I'll tell the Post Office
you'll be taking sick leave.

No - I cannot lose my job.

I have potential for advancement.

There are other less physical jobs,
Mr Aidoo.

And you are an educated man.

When employers see
the colour of my skin,

my education doesn't count for much.

If you won't accept that you're ill,

and you don't do everything you can
to look after your health,

your wife and children are going to
find it even harder.

Because they won't have you.

Very well.

But tell me my boy hasn't
got this thing?

No.

No, please, no!

Haven't all of you
got better things to do

than watch an old woman
being driven from her home?

It is just as I feared.
Oh, no...

Go away!

Stay here. Out of the way.

Come along, Miss Millgrove,
you've had your fun.

If you don't let
the ambulance men in,

then I'm going to have
to force entry.

That missile may have some
unsanitary material in it.

I know.

And I have to tell you that there is
plenty more where that came from.

Miss Millgrove, please, can we talk?

Maybe I can help?

Hail! Hail! Dear sister!

Sister, you need to be back
at Nonnatus House.

Now, you don't want to be here when
the police kick the door in.

What? Is that really necessary?

More than, I reckon, and I wouldn't
be surprised if they do the old girl

for breach of the peace
while they're at it!

I am only sorry that my vows
preclude

even the most peaceful protest

or I would join with Miss Millgrove
in a heartbeat!

And get yourself arrested
in the process.

Some things are worth
standing up for, Mr Buckle.

If your wife can understand that,
why can't you?

All right, lads,
let's get that door down.

Mind where you tread.

I will not let you do this.

Miss Millgrove will not be dragged
from her home by force.

Nurse Anderson,
if you do not vacate that doorway,

I'll be forced to arrest you.

Do your worst! Vive la revolution!

Can someone PLEASE get this
lady out of here!

Quick!

Come in, make yourself useful.

I'll do parcels.

You do tins.

I hope you've got a good
throwing arm.

I'm sorry, but I can't.

I... I thought you wanted to help me?

I do.

I want nothing more
than for you to be safe.

I am safe...

..here.

Moving to a home,
it could be wonderful.

You will be cared for, and there
will always be someone to talk to.

You can take your books.

This isn't
your home any more, Clarice.

Look.

It is a prison.

To be fed against one's will
is abhorrent.

But the hunger that goes before
is almost worse.

The headaches, the nausea...

..the cold -

I can never get warm.

And then the sleeplessness.

So cruel!

Without sleep, there's no respite
from the cravings.

And, then, something
miraculous happens.

After weeks of nothing but water...

..the cravings
and the hunger go away.

Then one is no longer
interested in food.

And that's when they come...

..with their restraints
and their tubes...

..and their buckets of slop.

And when their abominations
are done...

..and there's quiet and still,

one gathers oneself
together to start afresh.

And the dreadful hunger...

..comes back again.

I'm so sorry.

What will become of me?

I know nowhere else.

I thought the same when I left my
home in Mandeville.

I thought I would die from the fear.

But a woman of substance
can make a life anywhere.

And you, Miss Millgrove,
are a woman of substance.

No, no, no, I don't need that.

Oh... Clumsy! Sorry.

I bet you did a better job in your
day. Don't patronise me.

I'm only training, you know.

This place they're taking me...

..am I allowed to eat the food?

Yes.

You don't need to go hungry.

Well done.

Top of the class. Thank you.

You, too.

I'll visit.

Tomorrow. I promise.

Right, lads.

I'm pleased to report that your
baby sister has put on a whole 2oz.

She really is doing terribly well.

Now, if I pop you back on your mat,
perhaps your big brother

can help you on with that very
fetching romper.

I watch for signs.

When she cries, I think
"Are you hurting?

"Will your life be cut short by this
sickness?" Matthew, too.

He's such a happy boy.

But what does his future hold?

Treatments are improving
all the time.

The first time I set my eyes on
Joel, I knew I would marry him.

Maybe if I'd known
what was inside us...

One doesn't choose
whom one falls in love with.

No.

And without him,
my life would be nothing.

I refuse to believe the world is
worse for having our children in it.

She's strong.

Runs in the family.

I'm sorry to have let you down.

But I can't think of anyone better
than Mr Trotter to represent

your interests in the new
Tower Hamlets Borough Council.

That's not how Churchill
won the war.

I want to be prepared.

Will the speech do?

No.

I've been a right idiot.

I should've been behind you,

but instead I've been sniping
from the sidelines.

Don't ask me why, cos I couldn't do
what you're doing

in a million years.
I haven't got the guts.

Says the man planning to drive
an ambulance

through the nuclear holocaust.

Well, I'll do that any day

over making a speech
in the town hall.

Come here.

I'm proud of you.

I am.

Thank you, my love.

Oh, thank you.

See you again soon.

Get your onions, cheapest in Poplar!

Miss Millgrove? May I come in?

I brought you a present.

Rhubarb with sugar,
and a little bit of salt.

Maybe I'll just sit a while
and let you rest.

Miss Millgrove?

Was it my fault?

Do you think if she'd stayed
in her own home...?

We do not choose the time of
our passing.

He does.

I hate to think of her dying
in a nursing home on her own.

She had friends around her,

but had not yet had time to make
their acquaintance.

Friends are everywhere,

if one has the eyes to see them.

I don't mind if I do.

Mm!

What did he say?

He's offered me a job in
the sorting office.

Time off for medical appointments.

Did you take it? I told him I needed
to talk to you first.

Would it be easier?

If we went home? To the warmth?

Home is where our dreams are.

For now, those dreams are here.

So, we stay? We stay.

She left very specific instructions
in her will.

Robert Louis Stevenson.

Get inside now!

'Ere, where are you lot going?
Don't I get an invite?

We're off to the polling station.

You didn't want to come, so you and
Lucille can hold the fort.

It was a year of change.

A year of looking back at
the distance we had travelled.

But also to the future,
the road that lay ahead.

Sometimes, never letting go
becomes a letting in,

an opening up.

And surrender itself can be
the bravest act of all.

Courage cannot move mountains...

..but it can show us how to climb...

..find a way, forge a path...

..that we believe in.

And emboldened, we stand firm,

knowing where we stand
and where we're headed

and where we can belong.

You see children out on the street

with it covered in a rash,
spreading it around.

Oh, no, no, no, no, no, please!

I think my baby's dying.

Do you know anything about
a rather large quantity of sand?

It appears to be blocking your car.

Copper!

Nurse! Boy or girl?

What kind of monster
does that make me?