SHELAGH: Scabies is so contagious, we need to print out posters and information leaflets as soon as possible.

LUCILLE: I understand many women will benefit from better access to contraception.

But surely it must be at their discretion.

CYRIL: No one has the right to decide who is worthy to be born.

TRIXIE: I was just calling to see how you are after your treatment last week.

MATTHEW: Much better.

You should come see us again.

SISTER JULIENNE: Good news to report.

Miss Higgins is welcome to stay in the cottage.

PHYLLIS: Tom and Barbara's cottage.

This program was made possible in part by contributions to your PBS Station from viewers like you.

Thank you.

♪ ♪ ♪ Mature Jenny, voice-over: Everyone knows that birds migrate, but not which country they believe to be their own.

The hard, hot, cloudless climate of the south or the fragile gray-white warmth of our own climes?

But perhaps the birds are simply lucky.

They have the best of both worlds.

♪ ♪ ♪ I spy with my little eye something beginning with "L," Nancy.

Ladder?

Ugh.

These were the best of the bunch.

I thought if the hole was round the back, the patients wouldn't see it.

Nurse Crane: You know perfectly well that that is not acceptable, Nurse Corrigan.

Does anyone have a spare?

I always have a spare pair, as Nurse Corrigan knows.

[Panting] Oh!

Sister!

[Panting] What's the matter?

I--I--just feel so dreadfully dizzy, as though I might be sick.

Don't worry.

Don't worry.

I'll get you home.

You can lean on me.

Uhh.

Oh.

Oh, Miss Higgins.

We've had overnight guests at the back of the building.

It was meths drinkers, I'm afraid.

I asked them to take their leave when I arrived, and they did so with surprising courtesy.

They've been using the stairwell as a lavatory.

Reparations are in hand and hygiene will be restored before patients arrive.

Dr. Turner: Thank you, Miss Higgins.

[Sigh] I hope they don't make a habit of it, Patrick.

We seem to be seeing more of them round here recently.

It's this new wave of demolitions.

The men tended to gather in the cellars of the old houses up around Albany Square, but with those gone, they'll be looking for new quarters.

Homelessness is all relative.

I know.

But they're so unsavory.

And people are afraid of them.

[Phone ringing] Good morning.

Dr. Turner's surgery.

Midwife calling.

-Are you here to see Maureen?

-Mm.

She's gone down the launderette.

[Pours water] Just a routine call.

I shall leave a note.

It's Thelma Haig, isn't it?

I'll bet you never forget a face.

Or a varicose ulcer.

I thought we'd never see the back of that one.

I must have been dressing it for nigh on 3 months.

Right as ninepence now, thanks to you, Nurse.

Is she ready, Mrs. Haig?

Julie!

Your manager's here!

I'm off, Mum.

Don't wait up.

I'll always wait up.

You're my daughter.

He's her manager.

Mm.

I gathered that.

She's blossomed since I last saw her.

Yeah.

She never used to look like anything much, but she could always sing.

I used to say to her all the time, you keep up that singing, it'll bring you opportunities.

A girl with a gift is a woman with potential.

Mr. Lewin spotted her in a talent show and now she sings in clubs, all over town, yeah.

She's got a contract to record a single, and he reckons she's in with a chance of being on the telly and if he can make that happen, well, the sky's the limit.

It's always been just you and her, hasn't it?

I brought her up on me own, yeah.

You look after each other now.

We will.

[Chuckling] I never heard of a TB hostel before.

I thought everyone with TB went to a country sanatorium.

It's quite a new idea.

Cheaper, probably, but it keeps all the men under one roof so we know where they are.

And it's clean.

They can be monitored and we can help them with nutrition.

Where are you?

Uhh.

[Coughs] Ey.

Your blood pressure's normal.

No sign of any swollen glands or fever.

I'm putting my money on labyrinthitis.

Is that the inner ear?

A mild infection or possibly a bubble in the vestibular fluid.

The best treatment is rest.

You can draw the curtains if you feel very dizzy.

Resting and drawing the curtains is not going to help Nonnatus House run smoothly.

I can see to all of that.

There's even more to do than usual.

I still haven't managed to arrange the anniversary event.

This month marks 100 years since the Order came to Poplar.

I specialize in celebrations.

I know you do.

Dr. Turner: Sister, we've been here before.

You work yourself to a thread, time and time again, and then what happens?

Threads snap.

One day, we won't be able to mend you.

I will rest.

For 3 days.

You will rest for as long as I tell you to.

And in the meantime, I don't care who helps you, but someone must.

And you must accept that with good grace.

I think we need to get the doctor out to see you, Mr. Huntley.

I'm worried about your weight loss and your weakness.

Nurse Corrigan?

Have you collected those samples?

All done and dusted.

Nothing like decanting some phlegm to brighten up a morning.

I need your help turning Mr. Huntley and--and getting him more comfortable.

He's not doing so well all of a sudden.

Right.

1, 2, 3.

There you go.

All done.

You're good girls.

It's all part of the service.

[Bell rings] My name's Avis.

Joan Avis.

Cotton Field Tower.

Our rubbish chute has been blocked for two weeks, and there's no light bulb in the stairwell.

Well, I have an evening surgery.

You're welcome to attend if you'd like to make a formal complaint.

This is a formal complaint.

I've got my smart coat on.

And please be advised I shall be suspending payment of my rates if matters don't improve.

I'm not quite sure where you think you are, Mrs. Avis, but this isn't the rates office.

Oh, it's not a dressmaker's, either.

That hem looks like it was done with a knife and fork.

[Door slams] [Bell rings] We need to go straight to the phone box and call the surgery.

Mr. Huntley's pulse is weak and he's so debilitated.

Shouldn't he be in a hospital?

Well, if he is dying, and I think he might be dying, we'll take care of him here in his own bed.

His own bed?

This is no better than a doss house.

The men in here used to be sailors and laborers, Nancy.

They're too old and too sick to work now and they've no families to turn to, or to take them in.

They've been in and out of actual doss houses their whole lives, and I promise you this is better.

I'm sorry.

I just don't see how.

I shall be heading upstairs in short order to make sure she passes all responsibilities on to me, including the centenary celebration.

I think you'll find she refers to the event as a commemoration.

Be that as it may, she can't be setting events in train from her couch of anguish.

And I am content to step into the breach.

I think after this, I shall be a shoo-in for next year's Olympics.

Mexico City, here I come.

Do the Olympics have a medal for catching and throwing?

Of course.

And I'd get a gold medal with moves like this.

Oh.

Ha ha ha!

Ha ha!

Mummy!

Excuse me, mister, can I have my ball back, please?

Yeah, you'll have to come fetch it if you want it, 'cause I've got a bad leg.

All right.

Colette!

Come away!

She's all right.

Don't panic.

I had her in my sights.

The likes of him shouldn't even be around here.

Nancy: He looks harmless enough.

There is a school over there.

Meths drinkers are like rats, except the council does something about rats.

Colette: Why does that man smell so horrible?

He's in the habit of drinking stuff that's very bad for him.

It has an effect on his blood and his insides.

So, why does he do it?

I don't know.

He might not know himself.

But you keep away from him and men like him.

Do you hear me?

OK, come on.

Let's get you a piece of cake before I take you back to Auntie Vera's.

♪ Cry me a river ♪ ♪ Cry me a river ♪ ♪ I cried a river over you ♪ ♪ I cried a river over you ♪ [Whistling and applause] Wow.

Wow, girl, they love you.

[Moans, winces] [Moans, winces] [TV playing] [Door opens] Oh, Vi.

[Door closes] I was getting worried about you.

You've been cooking fried bread.

It was for you, but it was getting cold.

Council meetings don't normally go on this late.

Well, we had a bit of a turn-up for the books, as it happens.

We ended up with quite a lot to discuss.

Oh, yeah?

What's that then?

Lord Stonham has invited us to send a deputation to the House of Commons.

Oh, what brought that about then?

You know he started out in the East End himself and we've corresponded with him over various issues for the last year or two and, well, he always seemed inclined to listen to working people.

And now that he's Minister for State, he wants to hear from us direct.

[Door opens] Milk's going on for your Bournvita!

How was it?

You look proper washed out under all that Pan-Stik.

[Crying] Petal.

What's up?

I had one of them funny turns on stage.

Everything was just swimming in front of me and there was smoke in my eyes and the baby was just kicking and-- You're gonna have to tell Mr. Lewin.

You haven't even told Jeff and he's the baby's father.

Everything's fizzled out since he joined the Army.

It's like we're just penfriends.

We've both had our heads in the sand about this.

Me just as much as you because I've been trying to play things your way, but Julie, you are pregnant.

If I can just keep it a secret for a bit longer.

You're running a temperature, Julie.

I don't think we can.

[Phone ringing] [Ringing] Good morning.

Nonnatus House.

Midwife speaking.

Dr. Turner: You were right, Sister Frances.

I was slightly worried about Mr. Huntley at the TB hostel when I saw him last night, but he seemed bright enough.

I came back early this morning and he's really gone downhill.

Does he need someone with him?

Yes.

It could be another 24 hours or so.

You know what it's like.

But-- No one dies alone, Dr. Turner.

Not on our watch.

[Honks horn twice] Mr. Lewin: She all right this morning?

Julie: I'm fine.

She's got a bit of a sore throat.

We're taking her to the quack to see if he can give her some sort of prescription gargle.

Perfect.

Because I have secured an audition for a certain young lady for Associated Television.

When, Mo?

5 p.m. tomorrow.

Hop in.

Make sure we get your pipes oiled.

[Clicking lighter] Uh, smoking is not permitted in the surgery.

It's a top-quality cigar.

Havanas, Panatellas, Henley's or roll-ups stuffed with the cheapest shag, the same rule applies and will be enforced.

Well, if we don't get satisfaction here, I'm taking Julie to Harley Street.

That girl: heading for the top.

Dr. Turner: Oh, come on.

No tears now.

We've plenty of time to get things organized.

She's got an audition for a television show tomorrow night.

[Winces] Oh, no, she hasn't.

Because what she has got, I suspect, is a very nasty water infection.

[Bell rings] Man: Ahem.

[Door closes] Do you sell drink?

Sorry, pal.

We don't have a license.

Uh, good baccy and fags if you want those.

No.

I'll leave it.

Thanks all the same.

[Door opens and closes] He'll probably go straight to the ironmongers and buy methylated spirits.

It smells like sewer gas.

I wouldn't light any matches for a while.

[Laughs] Ooh!

Ho-ho!

He would've been a respectable bloke once.

Just because he isn't now doesn't entitle us to laugh at him.

Here, mate.

Take these.

It's not got much of a kick to it, but yeah, bit of warm weather and all that.

Well.

I won't say no.

Thank you.

She can't be in the family way.

She's been wearing minidresses.

We've built every stage outfit around the Sandy Shaw look.

She need bed rest and antibiotics.

They're gonna keep her in overnight in the maternity home.

Maternity home.

I never even noticed a blinking thing.

The chances are ATV won't notice, either.

[Snaps fingers] She can still do the audition.

No, she can't!

From now on, my daughter's health comes first.

I'm not saying never mind about her health, Mrs. Haig, but I am saying what about her future?

I can't market an unmarried mother.

She's already got a contract, for the single.

[Scoffs] They'll drop her like a stone the minute they find out.

Well, then, her future stops here, doesn't it?

Everything we planned is over.

If she tied the knot with someone, it would be a different matter.

Dare I ask where the father is?

Westfalen, Germany.

He's in the rifles.

[Scoffs] Well, he wants ruddy shooting.

It must feel like feeling seasick.

It is.

Only without the consoling thought of a holiday destination at the end of it.

[Chuckles] All will be well.

Only I'm not convinced all will be well in time for the centenary.

Do you have to mark it at all?

There have been so many miracles along the way that thanksgiving seems essential.

But we mustn't seem to be patting ourselves on the back.

Sister Hilda seems to be full of ideas.

Sister Hilda is as inventive as she is enthusiastic, which I fear will prove a rather febrile mix.

You, on the other hand, know us inside and out, and can look towards us from the outside in.

Oh, I hope you're not suggesting I might take it over.

No.

I'm asking you to.

Simple, dignified, loving, and truthful.

No one can do it...better.

Now I've rearranged the audition for next week, you've really got something to aim towards.

If I may interject, I think Dr. Turner may be of the opposite opinion.

I just want to sing, Nurse Crane.

I want to be like Helen Shapiro used to be, like Shirley Bassey is now.

She's from somewhere no better than round here and they say she's made so much money she's going to have to live abroad.

Nurse Crane: There's nothing wrong in wanting to get on in life.

I transfigured my own fortunes in my small way.

But you're not going to be playing the Palladium when you're 36 weeks gone.

Mr. Lewin: The audition is for the telly and they can do things.

The camera angles.

What you can't do with a camera is bring an infant into the world on time, properly nourished, and healthy.

You've got work to do, lass.

And it isn't on the stage.

[Dogs barking] Nancy: Hello.

I'm sorry to disturb you.

I'm only listening to the dogs bark.

They do that in the evenings.

They send messages to each other.

I brought you some things that you might find handy: a walking stick and a mac.

You'll be too warm in that overcoat soon.

I don't like to take it off.

A good coat gets to be a friend.

Will you have the stick?

Might give it a try.

Ohh.

I wondered if you'd hurt your foot, sir.

Sir?

[Laughs] I'm a nurse.

Gives you a knack with the etiquette.

Ahh.

Well, I got shot of my surname years ago.

I just answer to the name of Bernard, like a dog.

[Chuckles] You're from Ireland.

My name's Nancy.

I was born in Cork but I live here now.

My mother was from Skibbereen.

She--she lived here, too.

People from our neck of the woods get everywhere.

When I see things that are yellow, sometimes, I think of her.

A painted door, a ribbon on a child.

She--she had eyes the color of robin's eggs but it--it was the yellow things she loved.

Does that foot hurt you, Bernard?

You could come to the surgery where I work and get it dressed.

No.

I--I can't even feel it.

It's the best way.

Best way.

Is that the pop that Fred gave you from the shop?

Might be.

Ahh.

Might be a little bit more to it now.

Ha ha!

You know, I was just looking for them little golden flowers.

Not daisies.

The ones that shine.

Butterfingers and all that.

You mean buttercups?

Might do.

I keep looking but I never find any.

[Dogs barking] I have no objection to Mrs. Turner, doctor's wife, midwife, nurse, and, well, general all-round good egg, arranging the centenary celebration.

I have every objection to such an important role being assigned to Sister Bernadette, ex-nun.

[Line clicks] Hello?

I'd like to inquire about making an international call.

To West Germany.

There you go, Albert.

That should freshen you up a little.

Sister Monica Joan: Albert.

Seems so natural now.

Even to one from a generation such as mine, where formal terms prevailed.

A woman's Christian name when she's in travail.

A man's when he stands in equipoise betwixt this life and the next.

You think of his mother choosing it, don't you?

When he was born.

Looking down at his little face and wondering what would suit him.

I've brought you a Thermos of minestrone and some cheddar rolls.

Sister Monica Joan: A rather savory repast for so early in the day.

[Gurgles] Sister Monica Joan, I think he's going.

♪ ♪ Depart, O Christian soul, out of this world.

In the name of God, the father Almighty, who created you.

In the name of Jesus Christ, who redeemed you.

In the name of the Holy Spirit, who sanctifies you.

May your rest be this day in peace and your dwelling place in the Paradise of God.

[Softly] Amen.

♪ ♪ Is there anything I can do?

Open the window.

Let his soul out.

Mrs. Buckle, what plans has the Council to ensure that the Order of St. Raymond Nonnatus remains at the heart of midwifery and nursing in this area?

The Council makes a significant contribution to health care right across Tower Hamlets.

My understanding is that there are no plans whatever to change the funds already allocated.

Trixie: But in the centenary year of the Order's arrival in the area, is Lord Stonham even aware of the extent to which a vital service has to rely on religious charity and private donations?

I can certainly ensure that it is brought to his attention.

No one's higher up in the nuns' fan club than me, Mrs. Buckle.

I've had 5 kids with them, 4 in my own bed and one in the air raid shelter.

[Laughter] They are the best of the East End.

Audience: Yeah.

And what I want to know is, what you gonna do about the worst?

Well, I think you're gonna need to define what you mean by "the worst" if I'm going to answer that question in a satisfactory manner.

I mean, cars all over the bomb site with God knows who living in them, people keeping goats in their backyards, and meths drinkers in every doorway.

One cannot be oblivious to the presence of unsavory elements throughout the borough, which appears to be the direct result of the chaos caused by the housing program.

Will you be asking Lord Stonham how this can be remedied?

We all have grave concerns about housing, Miss Higgins.

I have grave concerns about people using my stairwell as a khazi!

Audience: Hear, hear.

Woman: Right.

Your concerns have been noted and will be passed on when the deputation visits the House of Commons!

Now.

I'll talk you through what to expect, shall I?

[Knocking on door] Mr. Lewin, you're intruding upon a professional consultation.

I've actually come in search for a professional consultation.

About residential nurseries for the nipper.

I beg your pardon?

What's a residential nursery?

A select, fee-paying facility where babies can reside all year round.

Now, we can pick up where you left off.

I've even got contacts at "Search For A Star."

Out of this young lady's bedroom now.

She may have decisions to make about her future, but she also has a mind and opinions of her own.

I've been her manager for a year.

Do you think I don't know that?

Julie, if we don't sort this out, none of this will ever come your way again.

[Knocking on door] Jeff, what are you doing here?

What do you think?

As soon as you told me, I couldn't get to the boat train fast enough.

I didn't even change out of me uniform.

Oh, have a heart, Thelma.

Let me in.

Jeff, why aren't you in Germany?

Because of this.

Is she having it now?

No.

Although I can't vouch for how the day will unfold if we are subject to any more drama.

I brought Lucille's lacquer.

You can immobilize Big Ben with what she's sprayed on her barnet already.

It's a windy day and we're having our photograph taken with Lord Stonham.

Have you got the French chalk?

Where's the kid gloves?

On the kitchen table.

The mark is on the thumb.

Just pretend you're spraying a car.

Violet: Ah.

[Cyril chuckles] You have to stay calm, Mrs. Buckle.

You're looking elegant and dignified, but it's not your appearance that matters today.

It's about what you are going to say.

That's exactly why the backs of my knees have turned to water.

Why, when all you have to do is tell the truth and ask the questions that matter on behalf of the people you love?

You make it sound so easy, Cyril.

Nothing worthwhile is ever easy.

But you know... it can be quite simple if you just speak from your heart.

[Chuckles] [Hair spray spraying] Garnets?

They're your birthstone if you're born in January.

I was gonna get you a diamond, but that's the birthstone for April, and I thought it might be unlucky.

I've applied for a special license.

It only takes a few days.

Please, please say yes.

At least it'll make having gone AWOL worthwhile.

AWOL?

You've come here absent without leave?

What did your mum say?

She thinks they've let me home on compassionate grounds.

I panicked.

Jeff, what if I say yes and I make you miserable?

Well, I keep telling myself how much more miserable I'd be, knowing our little Titch was getting name-called for being a bastard.

You had it just as bad as me, didn't you, Jeff?

Almost.

Let me be a man who does the decent thing.

[Bell chiming] Would the delegation from Tower Hamlets please come with me?

Greetings.

I imagine you've come to confer with Sister Julienne.

♪ ♪ I approve of all of it.

Even the balloons?

Especially the balloons.

So much of our work has been about children.

Why not do something that will make them smile?

Sister Hilda, would you like to see this?

♪ ♪ This all seems most...acceptable.

But what, may I ask, is Item 10, "Surprise"?

I can't say.

All of this is in the manner of a gift to you.

To the whole Order.

And it doesn't seem right to unwrap every element at once.

[Door opens] Fred: Violet?

You're home.

[Door closes] The Minister gave us a full 40 minutes of his time.

That's good, isn't it?

We discussed play streets, playgrounds, unlicensed dogs, and what's going on at Tilbury docks.

Well, no one likes the sound of those containers coming in.

And then finally, we looked at a plan of action against the meths drinkers.

Councillor Finney persuaded the Minister that what we really need is to increase police powers of arrest and dispersal.

[Sigh] All that's gonna do is move 'em on and make 'em somebody else's problem.

Oh, half the time, that's what politics is, Fred.

[Door opens] Good afternoon, sir.

May I be of assistance?

Um, yeah, there's a-- there's a nurse who works here, name of Nancy.

You can't have him in here.

It's insanitary.

I'm afraid Nurse Corrigan is not on the premises today.

I will confer with Dr. Turner if you would like to wait outside.

No, it's--it's not bad enough for a doctor.

No, um, I'm--I'm happy with the nurse.

[Door closes] Sorry for dragging you out, Fred.

Nothing much scares me but on my own, I can't vouch for Nurse Corrigan's safety in this set-up after dark.

And I suspect she's the only one this man will trust.

What's this?

Eucalyptus ointment.

Rub it underneath your nose.

[Sigh] It's a trick I learned years ago going into doss houses.

What is it about drinking meths that makes them like this, doc?

If you mean the smell, the raw alcohol is rotting their flesh from the inside out.

Some of them will have gastritis and soil themselves constantly, and their legs are probably covered in ulcers.

Fred: Poor sods.

If you mean why are they confused and incoherent, it's because the alcohol is damaging their brains, possibly even blinding them.

Why is there nowhere for these people to go and get treatment?

There is no treatment and they wouldn't go.

They cling to each other and the few small things that still feel familiar.

Everything beyond that is the void.

And in the one place they can bear to be, nobody even wants them.

♪ ♪ Bernard?

It's Nancy.

The nurse.

You asked for me at the surgery but I wasn't there.

I've brought the doctor.

I don't need the doctor.

Now, I reckon you do.

But I'm just junior.

He knows more than me.

Which isn't difficult.

If you'd let the nurse just ease your shoe off, have a quick look.

I won't interfere unless it's necessary.

I've--I've heard of a thing called anti-bions.

Antibiotics?

Hmm, we've tons of them.

Dr. Turner: Pills, lotions, liquid, solid.

Probably even gas.

Just her.

Nancy: Right.

Let's ease this off, then.

My mother, she used to be a lady's maid.

The family that she worked for, they used to have their shoes handmade in Piccadilly.

[Chuckles] His--his--his foot's come off with the shoe.

[Fred vomiting] I'm--I'm sorry, Bernard.

[Dr. Turner coughing] Nancy: I'm sorry.

I didn't feel a thing.

You wouldn't.

You've got gangrene.

♪ ♪ ♪ What will they do at the hospital?

Amputate.

Somewhere below the knee if he's lucky.

If he'd led a different sort of life, he'd stand a decent chance of being fitted with an artificial leg.

[Ambulance door closes] That's not going to happen, [sighs] because of the thing that got him in this state in the first place.

[Ambulance drives away] The drink?

The drink, and everything that made him drink.

[Sigh] Smoking can cause arteriosclerosis.

A bad diet can cause diabetes.

Both can lead to loss of circulation and dry gangrene.

But only catastrophic self-neglect can result in a sight like we've just seen.

Didn't even seem to hurt him.

It was as though he hardly cared.

And that is the most painful thing we ever see.

Violet: I can't stop asking myself.

I mean, why is it that I bend over backwards for some people and not for others?

And all for the sake of what?

A well-kept street?

I can't say I'm keen on driving those poor men as far away as possible.

It's not about what I want, is it?

It's about what my constituents want.

I mean, I am in the service of others, however unfortunate that may be in this instance.

What about Bernard?

Isn't her your constituent, too?

[Sigh] Knock, knock.

Bernard, it's Dr. Turner.

We met last night.

Do you work here?

No, but I'm good at sneaking in.

And there is a lady who wanted to visit you.

Is it Nancy?

I'm Councillor Buckle.

Violet.

So sorry for your troubles.

I--I brought you a small parcel of essentials from the Pensioner's Benevolent Society.

Oh, I don't get a pension.

I--I lost me cards.

Is there something wrong with me?

'Cause I keep thinking I ought to want a drink.

They're giving you medication, to take the edge off any cravings.

Yeah, they took me leg off, too, didn't they?

Not all of it.

According to the staff nurse, you've still got your knee joint.

I always wanted to disappear.

Looks like I'm doing it bit by bit.

[Laughs] [Door opens] This is not something I get to say every day but we have a bride in labor.

Events have taken something of a turn.

And are we to book the lady in question in as Miss Haig or Mrs. ... Lilly.

My client is in fact a married woman now.

Nurse Crane: We told the registrar to keep proceedings brief.

Jeff: I love you, Julie.

[Julie groans] [Bernard coughing] They won't let me smoke.

It's making me cough.

Pneumonia's making you cough.

Bernard: Is it?

Nancy: Hmm.

It's in your notes.

I took a shufty at them.

Is pneumonia when your lungs fill up with water?

Well, it's an acute lower respiratory infection involving the alveoli.

Yeah, it comes to the same thing.

Ahh.

I can go along with that.

They're giving you medicine for it.

My mother drowned.

In a canal.

She left her handbag on the side and there were 3 ha'pence in her purse.

Huh.

They gave me the coins to take to the industrial school, but the Matron robbed them and I've been grubbing about in the dirt looking for pennies ever since.

I lost my mother when I was a child.

[Sigh] I'm a mother myself now.

Does it make things better?

Yeah.

I joined the Navy when I was 14.

That didn't make it better.

I started with the booze at 16.

That didn't make it better, either.

You certainly gave it enough of a chance.

The war made it worse.

Living a life at sea, in peacetime, made it worse.

Every year, every day, I needed something stronger.

I just tramped about.

Went all over.

Land's End to John O'Groats, like a ship avoiding harbor.

And then, in the end, I came home.

Home to Poplar?

Where I lived with my mother.

It was like I could see her footprints on the pavement and hear her voice.

[Irish accent] Let's see if you like butter.

[English accent] And the tickle of the flower underneath me chin.

[Irish accent] Yes.

Yes, you do.

[Chuckles] [English accent] One way or another I've been trying to drown meself for 40 years.

Now I have the pneumonia, I can stop.

♪ I'm sorry about the smell of dog dirt.

I'm trying not to spray it around with the brush.

After the stenches I've encountered in the last few days, it's nothing.

How do you do it?

Do what?

This job.

Seeing people so broken and in so much want?

You have to sidestep want, most of the time.

Just concentrate on providing what they need.

And that's just love, most of the time.

[Crying] I just want it to be all right, Nurse.

Not too weak or too small or too poorly.

[Crying] Come on, precious.

You're using up all your strength with all this crying.

And I don't want any more contractions!

Nobody said how much they were gonna hurt!

[Crying] Julie, if we can get you nice and calm, we will have a try with the gas and air with the next one.

And I promise that will really help.

But first, let me get you a nice, cool cloth to bathe those eyes.

[Groans] No wonder she's in no frame of mind for this, with all their fretting.

And she's had no time whatsoever to prepare.

I'm scared!

Everybody is scared of things they've never done before.

But that's where we come in.

We've done this time and time again.

Haven't we, Nurse Crane?

I delivered my first baby before Shirley Temple was top of the Hit Parade.

Aah!

[Panting] Here we go, precious.

You do exactly as I tell you and I promise the difference will be like night from day.

Julie: Aah!

[Crying] I brought us all some pie and mash and a bottle of champagne for later.

Vintage.

I just hope we've got something to celebrate.

It's coming too early, Mo.

[Julie groans] Nurse Crane: I've never known a girl push so strongly and with such control.

Every time you push, I can see a bit more of her head.

You're doing so well, lass.

[Inhales, groans] Aah!

[Panting] And the head is with us.

[Crying] See how well you've done?

The baby's head's starting to turn now.

Just one last push, Julie.

Give it all the strength you've got.

[Groans] Aah!

Ohh.

[Baby crying] Hello.

[Crying] May I introduce you to your daughter.

She's beautiful.

And that was-- that was-- How about "fantastic"?

[Laughs, panting] So many men are psychologically damaged.

Loss or poverty.

Always, always war.

When I got back from Italy, I was encouraged to talk.

Maybe I didn't talk enough.

Maybe I could've talked more about talking.

But I was healed.

People like Bernard never get that chance.

We're all the things that have happened to us, aren't we?

I keep thinking about that all the time, while I've been organizing the centenary.

All the things I was part of.

How those things became a part of me.

We've been so lucky, haven't we?

One for posterity, in case the press ever ask.

What are you gonna call her?

Nicola Samantha.

Mr. Lewin: I love it.

[Camera's shutter clicks] Is it all right to come in?

Nurse: Please do.

There's no one we can send for.

[Door closes] Mother?

Is that you?

You're out of luck, love.

But I brought you some flowers.

I've been crawling all over the bomb sites with a nun looking for these.

I hope you're grateful.

It's not right, is it, Nurse Crane?

It's a tiny bit on the high side.

Little lass might have picked up a mild infection.

What will you do?

Will you send her to hospital?

I'm going to telephone Dr. Turner and we'll see what he advises.

[Labored breathing] I can see it glowing against your skin.

Brightest gold you ever saw.

Like a coin, or a fairy flag.

[Labored breathing] "Shall we see who likes butter?"

"Oh, you do, Bernard.

You do."

[Cries, sniffles] [Gurgling] I don't want her to go.

I'm her mother.

And you're a very good one.

Which is why you know you have to let her get the best of care.

[Curtains slide on track] Will you leave the buttercups with him?

He loved yellow things.

[Door opens] [Door closes] [Cries] [Door closes] I'm the only person who's crying for him in the whole world.

No, you aren't.

Nurse Crane: These readings are going up and up, Julie.

I don't want to have to ask Doctor for a sedative.

Baby will be back in your arms in a day or two, I'm sure.

And what's going to happen then?

I hand her over to my mum, put on my glad rags, paint my face, and go out singing?

You're under contract, to Mr. Lewin and to the record company.

My contract is with my daughter.

Miss Higgins: Sincere apologies for any disturbance, but two gentlemen have called for Mr. Lilly.

Petula Clark: ♪ Something happened to my heart ♪ ♪ The day that I met you ♪ ♪ Something that I never felt before ♪ ♪ You are always on my mind ♪ ♪ No matter what I do ♪ ♪ And every day it seems I want you more ♪ ♪ My love is brighter than the brightest star ♪ [Julie tears paper] ♪ That shines every night above ♪ ♪ And there is nothing in this world ♪ ♪ That can ever change my love ♪ Do the hospital require any assistance with the gentleman's funeral arrangements, Dr. Turner?

There are age-old routines for burial in a council grave.

They do it all the time.

I said they could use my surname on the forms.

Bernard Corrigan.

If anyone looks at the cemetery records, they'll know he belonged to someone.

He belonged here.

He was born in Poplar.

Poplar should have taken better care of him.

We tried.

But we could all do better.

And we will.

I know we have hostels for treating men who have TB.

We need similar facilities for treating people who suffer from alcohol addiction.

Somewhere where they can be helped?

Somewhere where they can be treated like human beings.

Would the council fund that?

It will take time, but I will try.

We look after our own here.

I'm gonna sing her so many songs, Mum.

I wanted more for ya.

You gave me everything I needed.

And now I'm gonna do the same for her.

[Cooing] Fred: With respect, Mrs. Turner, wouldn't it be more sensible to get this into position once the rain had packed in?

It's gonna end up out of tune, you know.

The rain is not due to "pack in" until early afternoon, exactly as the service commences.

I'm also armed with a large tarpaulin.

All right.

When we first started, this seemed like the most marvelous idea-- a canopy of massed summer flowers donated by well-wishers from the community of Poplar.

[Sigh] What we've ended up with is a sort of chrysanthemum soup with privet croutons.

Heh.

So, uh, that's no good, then?

Matthew, I'm Constance Spry trained.

Ha ha!

Well, I'm glad I didn't know that when I sent you the Swiss cheese plant.

Ha.

[Giggles] It wasn't right for me to send you actual flower flowers, then.

And it wasn't right for me to do that for a long, long time.

No, and I--I-- I never wanted that.

Do you want that now?

I mean, would you allow that now?

Because...if you'd let me...

I would fill your arms with flowers.

Roses.

Lilac, lilies.

And something red, like...more roses.

Trixie: Red roses.

Matthew: Yeah, red roses.

[Both laugh] Because I mean, everybody knows what they mean.

And I hope very much you know what I mean when I do this.

♪ ♪ Choir: ♪ Their heads were veiled, their lives avowed ♪ ♪ They came to serve... ♪ Mature Jenny, voice-over: The Nonnatus House centenary celebrations took place in gently falling rain.

The people who loved it stood shoulder to shoulder in defiance of the elements, determined to carry on and regardless.

The weather could not have been more perfect.

Skies will always shift, seasons with them.

Days become years.

Years become decades.

Decades evolve into a century and more.

And all the while our lives entwine and then unspool, borne on the winds of time, and aimed we know not where.

But we know where we come from and where our hearts call home.

May I give you a wee bit of advice?

Please do.

Polish up your dancing shoes.

Make her feel like she's the only girl in the world.

How does Cyril feel about that?

I haven't told him yet.

[Door opens] Get away from her.

You're hurting her!

Sister Monica Joan: I prayed for the intervention of angels and I have been answered.