All language subtitles for Call.the.Midwife.Christmas.Special.2015.1080p.BluRay.x264-YELLOWBiRD.eng

Christmas is the
celebration of a baby's birth.

It is the story of a mother's
love, her fear, her faith,

and her determination. It
tells of promises fulfilled,

a cradle rocked, a journey
both concluded and begun.

It is the story of all that is cherished
in a world where too little is known.

And of the Holy Ghost. Amen.

We seek it here,
we seek it there.

Indeed, one is
obliged to ask oneself

if one is in pursuit of a comestible
item, or the scarlet pimpernel!

Sister Monica Joan.
Never mind that now.

Would you just carry on cutting
out the greaseproof circles?

The mincemeat will be
ready for the jars soon.

Are we going to get that tea in
the clinical room or aren't we?

Oh, I'm sorry. I had a problem
with the desiccated coconut.

Oh, if we have to wait much
longer, you'll have a problem

with a desiccated corpse. Mine!

And Io! The angel Gabriel appeared,
carrying the first tin of Quality Street

of the season!

I'll get it.

Nonnatus House,
midwife speaking.

- It's our twins case!
- Oh!

Yes, yes, of course. Yes.

See? You all thought me a
fool to persist in my endeavours.

But behold, I have
located the brandy.

Now's the time to souse
the Christmas pudding!

Just don't go sousing
yourself into the bargain.

You give us enough gip
when you're stone-cold sober!

Tea. Now. Then you and I
are off on the ulcer rounds.

Good afternoon, everyone,
and, er, thank you,

- boys and girls...
- Shh, quiet.

For being nice and quiet whilst
the babies were being christened.

The Cradle Roll service

- is a very special one...
- Take one and pass it down.

Because it's one of
the few days of the year

when all the
children in the parish

get to come together
to celebrate being part

of our big church family.

Nurse Gilbert, our Sunday
school teacher, is going to bring

the children's choir to
the front, where they'll sing

Silent Night to help us start
our journey towards Christmas.

Merry Christmas.

♪ Silent night, holy night

♪ All is calm, all is bright

♪ Round yon virgin
mother and child

Rosemary McConlough, Doctor.

♪ Holy infant so
tender and mild... ♪

I've never heard such a racket!

They were flat, they
weren't singing together.

And one of them
was picking his nose!

But they had nobody to follow.
Why didn't you sing with them?

Because I'm practically a
baritone since my voice broke.

- Excuse me, Mrs Turner?
- Oh, Mrs Willens!

Wasn't that a lovely service?
And the church looked immaculate,

you keep it so spick and span.

Oh, it's just elbow
grease. Anyone could do it.

Begging your pardon, Mrs Turner,
when the nurse came for the doctor,

were they called
out to my niece?

I shouldn't say, really,
but I believe they were!

Hard luck, sweetie. You fired
the starter's pistol a bit too soon.

Nothing's on the move just yet.

But I've had enough!
I want them out now!

No cheeking the nurse, young
madam. She came into this world

shouting the odds and
she's not stopped since!

Oh, come along, Rosemary.

Let's see if we can get
you a bit more comfortable.

The main thing
is to get some rest

and remember that both
babies are doing well.

How's she getting on, Eileen?

Stay nice and warm.

Walter sent some
satsumas from his barrow.

No, it was a false alarm.
We'll have them anyway.

Plenty more where
they came from.

Oh, it's bitter. A nice
cup of tea, I think.

Oh, no!

Sister?

Sister, can you answer me?

What on earth's that noise?

Poor Eileen looked
worn to a thread.

Rosemary's always been a madam.

Once she's had those twins,
it's gonna be all hands on deck.

Family will rally round to
help 'em. We always do.

Not sure I'm wanted.

Eat your grapes. Good
for your kidney stones.

Kidney stones don't
bother me anymore.

Oh, love,

I don't know why you go to
that bloomin' Cradle Roll service.

You end up in shreds every year!

How can I stay away, when Lorna's
name's still on the list of members?

They don't rub it out, Walter,
just cos she's not with us anymore.

I know, love.

Rosemary's got two lovely
matching cots for these new twins.

On the never-never, probably,
but, oh, they do look smart.

I'm glad now I never
offered her Lorna's cradle.

I'd have liked it to
have had a new home.

A little life inside it.

Yeah, maybe not.

Sister Monica Joan's in bed with
a fever and dosed up on aspirin.

Doctor's going to call tomorrow.

She sounded quite delirious
when I went past her room.

Poor old thing. Would it be frightfully
callous to enquire about the pudding?

According to Sister Evangelina,

we'll be having Swiss roll with
custard for dessert on Christmas Day.

She's in a perfectly savage
mood. Purple cellophane!

I think this one has
Nurse Mount's name on it.

Marvellous! The perfect
accompaniment to a whisky nightcap.

You won't tempt me, I'm afraid.

Alcohol's perfectly
beastly on the complexion.

Are there any coffee creams? I need
them to take away the taste of the glue!

18 down, 24 four to go!

If you lick my stamps,

I'll give you what appears to be
the only coffee cream in the tin.

One for Delia? How is she?

Well, I believe. Her mother
hasn't written in a while.

Head injury can be a
ghastly thing to recover from.

And she was in quite a bad way
when they took her home to Wales.

Yes, she was.

Now where's that coffee cream?

Oh!

Thank you.

I'm so glad you're here. I
almost called you again.

Not I, nor he, who
commands us all.

Get back into bed! Before
the hot water bottle goes cold!

Come in any time you like!

Nanny put a hot
brick to my feet.

I knew it was winter then,

when it leached the smell
of starch out of the sheets.

Now sit down!

Temperature of 102,
coughing like a drain,

and dotty as a two-bob watch.

I can see that.

Ow!

You're gonna have to lay off
the mince pies, Fred Buckle,

or never mind
splitting your trousers,

you're not gonna fit
in this Santa suit at all.

Well, the kiddies
leave them out for me.

They'd be disappointed
if they didn't disappear.

Yeah, but you're not the real
Father Christmas, remember,

you're just one of his helpers.

Yeah, but I'd look
shocking in an elf suit!

I could do with an elf or two to
help me in the shop this afternoon.

I've got the entire Christmas
raffle display to put in my window,

or I'll have half the Poplar
shopkeepers baying for my blood.

I wish I'd never said I'd
take the responsibility.

It'll be good for
trade, though, won't it?

Well, I've only donated a couple of
balls of wool and some nappy pins.

The rest of the space is all
taken up with other people's stuff.

Tins of powdered milk
and I don't know what.

Well, that's not very
season-of-goodwill.

Ow!

Pass me the scissors. I'm not biting
this, it's too close to your backside.

A high temperature
and a nasty cough.

But what we don't want
at her age is pneumonia.

We've been more
worried about her confusion

than her physical health lately.

Exactly! If she goes any
further down doolally hill,

we won't be able
to look after her.

I've prescribed
Distaval as a sedative.

It'll calm her down, and perhaps
make her behaviour less erratic.

Distaval won't bring our Christmas
pudding back from the dead.

Or from the ceiling.

We're about to go into Compline.
I'll look in again afterwards.

Very well. But there's
no need for you to linger.

Sister Monica Joan and I have
established the rules of play,

and thus far she
is abiding by them.

My mother's hands
were cold like yours.

Mother's been looming rather
large this evening, I'm afraid.

That's often the way, when she's
unwell. These sometimes help.

Mmm?

They are family heirlooms,
and she cherishes them.

Oh.

I can't consume that.

The tang of urine assaults
me even from the plate.

It isn't kidney, Sister
Monica Joan. It's liver.

And it's terribly good for you.

And if you eat quickly, we
can listen to Desert Island Discs

while you eat your semolina.

I have tired of the wireless,
there are too many jumbled voices.

I like television better.

There isn't a television
at Nonnatus House.

There's one in the window of the new
shop by the tunnel. Have you seen it?

No.

We have one at home.

But I won't be seeing
that for quite some time.

Why is that, child?

Don't encourage her! There will
be ample salt in that gravy already.

You don't need
tears in it as well.

I can't go home for
Christmas, Sister Monica Joan.

We're going to be too busy.
Sister Julienne told me this morning.

But the very purpose of Christmas
is to revisit where one's roots lie!

Was Christ himself
not born in Bethlehem

because his father
and mother were called

to their birthplace
for the census?

All should head homeward,
if their natal home still stands.

My natal home was
razed to the ground

when they made improvements
to the Kirkstall Road in Leeds.

I'm rather looking forward
to filling the mead cup

and draining the barrel
in Nonnatus House.

Figuratively
speaking, of course.

We'll have a splendid time!

And so the bishop said that BBC
television want to film a carol service

in an ordinary London church
and broadcast it on Christmas Day.

How nice.

Well, I think it would
be more than nice.

I think it will be wonderful!
For the whole of the parish.

Our parish?

I'm sorry. I should've
made that clear.

Well, I think it sounds
tremendously jolly.

And the children
will certainly enjoy it.

But filming, Mr
Hereward? In a church?

My sentiments exactly!
Is nothing sacred?

To my mind, Sister Evangelina,

Christmas is the most
sacred festival of all.

And sharing a religious
service with millions of people

is a really good way
to remind them of that.

Not to mention
frightfully glamorous.

I rest my case. People have
forgotten what Christmas is all about.

Mrs Turner has kindly agreed to
take the children's choir in hand.

And I was thinking we
could create a crib scene,

and place a real newborn
baby in the manger.

One of our newborn babies?

Yes.

I was rather hoping
to see Nurse Gilbert.

The producer of the television
broadcast, Barrington Swann,

is coming to inspect the
church tomorrow, and...

Mr Hereward.

Tomorrow is a very busy day. And
Miss Gilbert will be fully occupied.

I was led to expect more in the
way of ornamental plasterwork.

Always photographs so well.

Still, I see your Mrs Mopp is working
wonders with the elbow grease.

A shiny bit of brass will
always catch the arc lights.

Our cleaning lady is called
Mrs Willens, not Mrs Mopp.

Whatever she's called, we'll have
to add to the artistic presentation.

Seasonal floral
arrangements, of course.

And, and the children's
pageant is completely essential.

Do you mean the nativity play?

Ooh, nativity scene,
I think. Don't you?

We mustn't over-face
the viewing public.

But children are essential.

I was a kiddy performer myself, I
know how they add to the sparkle.

And they must sing.

I have all that in hand.

And they must be in costume.

Mrs Turner has
that in hand, too.

The aesthetics are vital.

We can't have
anybody looking poor.

How dare he? Poplar may not
be the richest parish in the country,

but not one mother
would turn her children out

looking less than the
very best she could.

I almost gave him his
marching orders there and then.

Begging your pardon, Mr
Hereward, but I'm glad you didn't.

Why, Mrs Willens?

He was almost as rude about the
church as he was about the children.

Whom he hasn't even seen.

I'm not convinced he
has any faith in us at all.

Yeah, well, it's not
about his faith, is it?

Have a pink wafer.

I got them in for
Mr High and Mighty,

but I decided they were
stopping in the packet.

You should have one yourself.

You'll need to build your strength
up if you're going to be helping us out.

Helping you out?

Mrs Willens. This carol service
needs all the help it can get.

And with the number of
children involved, so do I.

I want you to ask the
headmaster's permission

to put one on the notice board.

There are some lovely
singers at the grammar school.

Yes, and they're mostly
baritones and tenors.

I've put treble and boy
soprano on the poster.

We need quality
voices, male and female,

if we're not going to embarrass
ourselves in front of the BBC.

Not to mention
the entire nation.

Which is why we are
going to have auditions,

and why we are
going to advertise.

Good morning, Mrs
Willens, Mr Willens.

Morning, Mrs Turner.

We've a busy day ahead.

By the way, the parish
manger's gone missing,

and we'll need to
find an orange box.

Perhaps, Mr Willens can oblige?

Now, run and catch your bus.

Can you go a bit higher, Violet?

Yeah, bit, bit
higher. Yes, perfect.

Yeah. Thanks, Violet.

Oh.

What do you think you are doing?

Preparing for Christmas
with a joyful heart.

I shall need all of this
when our tree is purchased.

However tardy
its arrival proves.

No tree until the
week before Christmas.

You know how we do things.
And it does not involve tinsel.

Auntie Iris!

Rosemary, what are
you doing out of doors?

I can't settle. I can't sit.

All I can do is clean. I
thought I was turning into you.

Do you fancy coming
with me to the clinic?

Aren't you going with your mum?

She's gone out west
to pick up the pram set.

- Oh.
- Nothing but the best for these two.

Oh, come on, you'll enjoy it.

Mrs Turner said the rash has
developed since this morning?

I only came in to bring
the baby for his needles!

I never saw the rash, I thought
he was just a bit off-colour.

I'm afraid it's a bit
more serious than that.

We can postpone the baby's vaccinations,
but I want you to go straight home.

Measles. That's the
fourth case in a week.

I'll notify the medical officer.

Other practices are
having the same thing.

I know. And the last thing
we need is an epidemic.

Look, I just wish there was a
vaccine! I know they're testing one.

But it takes so long.

I can't get on that
bed, it's too high!

And I can't lie down in any case

cos it makes me feel
as though I'm suffocating.

You don't have to lie
down until Doctor comes in.

But if we can just get
your bottom onto the bed.

You'll have more luck with a hoist
and winch from down the dockyard.

- Oh, no!
- Oh, yes!

Have I wet myself?

I hope not. This is a good
pair of nylons. I'll be right back.

Whoever cleaned up after that
explosion wants horsewhipping.

It's insanitary, having Christmas
pudding clinging to the walls.

I suspect you're right. It
may well attract mould,

and we don't want
spores falling into the food.

Are you sure you don't want
me to get up on the table, Sister?

No, no, no, you save your strength
for your trip to see the Christmas lights!

I should very much relish the
chance to see the lights myself.

The Sunday school
children would love that.

And there will be plenty
of room on the bus.

I'm sorry, I'm going to
exercise my power of veto.

You know my views on
dicky chests and cold winds.

And we need you
at Compline, Sister.

Sister Mary Cynthia
is at the twin birth.

She won't be back tonight.

You speak to me and of
me as though I am a child.

No, we speak to you and of
you as though you have been ill.

And you can explain this space
age monstrosity whenever you like!

It's a wreath for the front door.
Sister Monica Joan designed it herself.

When are you
planning to put it up?

Sister. We have all agreed
there will be no tree or decorations

in Nonnatus House until
December the 18th, as is our custom.

Advent will take
precedence in the meanwhile.

But we are out of
kilter with the world.

Every other window
is brilliant with light,

every other home
bedecked and splendid.

Only we await our tree and we
will never know the joy of television.

Television?

It is the portal to
much happiness.

I have seen it work its magic
on a hundred children's faces.

There are plenty of children round
here who don't need that sort of magic.

They need a square meal and
clean clothes and a loving hand.

Not spending money hand over
fist on television sets and tinsel.

Children incline to happiness.

Even I knew delight and
transportation as a child,

and my youth was
not a happy one.

Not happy? You never
knew what hardship meant.

Sister. Please.

I did! I did know!

But perhaps my mind is too
misshapen to recall it now.

Well, all I can say is,
if the cap fits, wear it.

And I don't want to see any more
of this until the 18th of the month.

All aboard! All aboard
the Christmas bus!

Ho, ho, ho! Come ride with us!
Lights and shops and fun we'll see!

Ho, ho, ho! Come ride with me!
Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas!

Really, Fred, it's worthy
of the Poet Laureate.

What have you got in your
bucket? Reindeer food?

No. Sawdust. I've
two famous vomiters,

and one who can't be
trusted with the waterworks.

Oh.

Come on, then, you stragglers.

You're married to the
lady in the sewing shop.

Ah, no, erm, that fella is a
cousin of mine. Same shape face.

Well caught!

You coming, Mum and
Dad? No? Right, on you get.

Ho, ho, ho!

I see you're still using
the old newspaper trick.

Sister Julienne did that
when I had my daughter.

We've saved many a
mattress this way, Mrs Willens.

Still doing the enemas, too.

Do I have to? I thought
only the old ones did that.

We're older than
we look, Rosemary.

Practically ready
for our pensions.

♪ If you're happy and you know
it and you really want to show it

♪ If you're happy and
you know it clap your hands

♪ If you're happy and
you know it stomp your feet

♪ If you're happy and you
know it stamp your feet... ♪

Anyone for a sherbet lolly?

No takers, I'm afraid.
Tina's not feeling very well.

Oh, dear. Will we be
needing the sawdust?

No, she says she just has a
headache. She's quite hot, too.

Well, you can
have one if you like.

Thank you.

Yellow and pink. The thing that
fascinates me most about these

is that they're so pale
until you lick them.

And then their colour changes
completely. I love them.

Most people look on lollies
like they're a childhood thing.

I don't! I've no pride and no shame
when it comes to confectionery.

You should try one.

Yellow and green.

See? You don't know
what you've been missing.

Take a deep breath, Rosemary.

And another. That's it.

Just take in some air.

Now push, Rosemary!

Well done!

Well done!

What is it?

It's a girl!

And she's beautiful.

A girl? I wanted a girl.

You might have two, soon.

Perhaps Auntie Iris can look
after this one in the meantime.

Sweetpea.

I'm glad I stayed.
The next one's breech.

What are you staring at, cariad?

That bus. I'm... Not used
to being back in London.

I thought you were
having one of your spells.

I don't have them anymore.

Well, you haven't for a
while, praise the Lord.

We'll have a very
happy Christmas.

And then say goodbye
to this city for good.

♪ If you're happy and
you know it touch your nose

♪ If you're happy and you
know it touch your nose ♪

Can't the doctor
just pull it out?

Oh, you can do this on your own.

Doctor's more than happy
standing there twiddling his thumbs.

Lean back into me, if it
helps you to concentrate.

Just keep your bottom
on the edge of the bed.

That's it, sweetie.
Gather your strength.

That's it! That's it! That's it!

That's it! Keep it coming!
Keep it coming! We have a leg!

That's it! And another leg!

Doctor, could you possibly
pass me the towel, please?

This one's a boy, Rosemary.

Nurse Franklin's just wrapping
baby in the towel, Rosemary,

just to keep him warm and calm.

Well, where's his head?

The head will be born soon.
Oh, you're doing so well.

Rosemary, you're going to gently
feel me turning baby quarter of a circle.

That's it, that's
it. Just breathe.

Now, we're going to let baby's
feet hang just for a moment,

so that his own body weight
helps him in the right direction.

Oh, God, have I missed it?

That's it! That's
it! Keep pushing!

That's it! You clever girl!

Top work!

A beautiful boy, Rosemary.

You have one of each.

One of each?

The little girl came
first and she's gorgeous.

Oh, hand her over!

I'm a grandma. A
grandma. How about that?

How about me being a mum?

That as well, obviously.

Oh, we're gonna be quite
the double act, you and me.

Oh, I'm sorry, Mrs Lewis.
Poor Tina isn't feeling very well.

She's burning up. If I'd have known
I'd have brought the push chair.

Don't worry, Nurse
Gilbert. I'll take Tina home.

I'd give her an aspirin, and do
call the doctor if you're worried.

I'm sure he'll come out.

Wakey wakey, campers.

Hello, Iris. I heard
Rosemary had the twins.

What a lovely
Christmas you'll all have.

Yeah, won't we?

There. Nappy pins. One
blue set, and one pink.

You give those to that clever niece
of yours, with my congratulations.

That's kind of you,
Violet. She'll be thrilled.

She'll be even more
thrilled if she wins

that layette I'm
displaying in my window.

It's got everything in it that
a new mum could ask for.

And it's all in aid of
the maternity home.

Oh, go on, then.

Best have two,
seeing as it's twins.

84 and 85.

Nothing like babies
for making people smile.

Some people, maybe.

Oh, Iris. Me and my
walloping, thoughtless mouth.

I'm sorry.

No, I didn't mean to
snap, Violet. It's just...

It's Christmas,
tricky time of year.

Oh, it would be. Poor
little Lorna. And poor you.

You remembered her name?

I couldn't forget it. Any more than
I could forget that smile she had.

Y'know I look at her photograph
sometimes and I think,

"I wish I'd called her
something happier."

"Lorna." It seems a
sad name somehow.

There was nothing sad about your little
girl, Iris. Even at just three months.

Four months.

I'll have a triple hook brassiere
expander, if you would, please, Violet.

White, buff or tea rose?

Hot water bottle. Stone
cold, and exactly where I left it.

- This bed hasn't been slept in.
- We should have checked.

The necklace has gone,
and so has the sapphire ring.

I must telephone
the Mother House.

Sister Julienne, you
must telephone the police.

I thought it might
be scarlet fever.

You know, she
seems poorly enough.

No. It's measles. You'll need to
dose her with aspirin every four hours.

Start her with these. I'll write
you a prescription for the rest.

Can't she have antibiotics?

They won't work.

There's no need to
look flustered, Iris.

All you have to do is ask each
child their name, age, and address,

write it down, then tell them to
sit on a chair and wait their turn.

Oh, what about the
juice and biscuits?

They can have juice and biscuits
when they've auditioned, and not before.

Can I have a biscuit now?

I don't think I can get through this
without a boost to my kinetic energy.

No, you can't. We don't
want crumbs on the keys.

Quick. Grab yourself
a Gypsy Cream.

Everybody must go
to the lady at the desk

and give their name, age, and
address before they sit down

and wait until they're called.

And no dogs!

It's a singing dog.

If it can't sing Silent
Night I'm not interested.

Would you say the
necklace and the ring

were worth a great
deal of money, Sister?

They were family heirlooms.

I wish I could say they were
of purely sentimental value,

but Sister Monica Joan was not at
all sentimental about her relatives.

And they were extremely rich.

Sister Julienne, did anything
unusual happen yesterday?

Anything that might have upset her,
or caused her to change her routine?

We live in close quarters at
Nonnatus House, as you know.

Very like a family, in fact.

And like all families, we
have our disagreements.

Congratulations on being
chosen for the choir, everyone.

And well done for
getting here on time.

We're just going to
rehearse for half an hour

before you all set
off for school today.

Mrs Willens will have some hot
Ribena ready for you when we finish.

Thank you, Timothy.

♪ In the bleak midwinter

♪ Frosty wind made moan

♪ Earth stood hard as iron

- ♪ Water like a stone... ♪
- Where have you gone?

It's now been 36 hours
since anyone has seen her.

Her habit and her veil make her
distinctive, in this area at least.

But if she's gone further afield,
she may not be recognised.

She's extremely elderly,
and she has been ill.

Sister Monica Joan! Sister!

They're definitely hers.

Is there anywhere
else she could've gone?

I tried to telephone her
nephew. He lives in Richmond.

But his housekeeper said
he's skiing in Switzerland

and can't be reached. And
she isn't at the Mother House.

It's as though
she's just vanished.

Nobody just vanishes,
Sister Julienne.

That's very
reassuring, Sergeant.

Sir. I found these in a bin
on the Commercial Road.

Anything could've happened
to her. It was dark when she left.

And the streets around the
docks are deserted after 6:00.

She probably thought her
habit would keep her safe.

I don't think she gave safety
or danger a second thought.

I think she was just
excited about Christmas,

and upset that she
wasn't allowed to be.

The situation is troubling
enough, Nurse Gilbert,

without speculation, gossip,
and histrionics thrown into the mix!

I will thank you to
get on with your work!

I'll be seeing you later, then.

Get your Christmas trees
here, all shapes and sizes.

I want a Norwegian Pine.
No bigger than seven foot tall,

and no more than 15 bob.

Pats.

Where on earth have you been?

Didn't wanna knock on the
door. I didn't wanna be asked in,

see you for the first time
with everybody watching.

Wait here. I need to
change out of my uniform.

I couldn't write at
all, to begin with.

Not for the first month.

But after that, I
sent three letters.

My mother posted them.

Or maybe she didn't.

I would have
answered if I got them.

You know I would've answered.

Does she suspect?

She thinks you're my
friend from training school.

- Oh, yes. The lady she helps at Cubs.
- I promise you, that's all she thinks.

But she doesn't want me
coming back to London to live.

- Or to nurse.
- Why not? If you're well enough.

In her mind, I'll
never be well enough.

I've got an appointment at
the London, to see Mr Hendry.

The neuro chap?

And then another with
the rehabilitation people.

They'll tell me then when I
can go back to work. If I can.

It might be months.

You look tired.

I lose my train of
thought sometimes.

It's better than losing you.

We're staying with my aunt
in Hornsey, did I tell you?

No.

Till after Christmas.

I think Mum's hoping I'll see the
horror of London through fresh eyes,

but the minute they went off to
their Welsh language carol service,

I was on the bus to Poplar.

I'll be on the bus
back to Hornsey soon.

I don't know what I'm
supposed to say to that.

You're supposed to say,
"Don't disappear again."

You're supposed to say,
"Meet me again, write to me.

"Don't break the thread.

"Let's pick up all
the broken pieces,

"let's pick up where we were."

Can't I just say, "Come back"?

Yes.

- Keep warm.
- I will.

Telephone me when
you've seen the doctor.

Yes!

Hang on, mate. What's that?

What? Oh, my God.

Ere, get the hook.

It's an old lady.

I see.

You still there, guv?

Yes.

You'll need to check your
missing persons record.

I'm aware of the
procedure. Thank you.

- Patrick.
- What's happened?

It's little Tina Lewis. Her
mother called. It's urgent.

I assume motorised transport to
the mortuary may not go amiss.

I was gonna drive them in
the police car, Nurse Crane.

Allow me to spare you the
encroachment on your time.

Nobody here has
done anything criminal.

She was all right last
night! She, she was talking.

She said there were
little men in the wallpaper.

Tina... Tina?

She's unconscious. I'm
sending for an ambulance.

Well, she's not gonna die?
She can't die. It's only measles!

It's never "only"
measles, Mrs Lewis.

Just give the attendant
the word, when you're ready.

Amen.

We're ready.

It isn't her.

Poor woman.

Poor, poor woman.

♪ Enough for him whom cherubim

♪ Worshipped night and day

♪ A breast full of milk
and a manger full of hay ♪

Now, see, that's where I
want the descant to come in,

it always seems
to peter out there.

- Well, that's because of the words.
- What's wrong with the words?

Well, there's just a word that
no-one likes singing. It's in that line.

And it begins with a B.

Breast?

Dad!

I'll get that.

Dad. I've gone bright red. In
the privacy of my own home.

Hello, I'll fetch him
now, hold the line.

It sounds like another
measles case. Joey Minton.

And he's in my choir.

Tonight, at Compline, we will
once again say special intercessions

for the safe return of
Sister Monica Joan.

And we will also pray for the lost soul
recovered from the Thames this morning.

Yes, Sister.

And that's all I can manage
to say at the moment.

Sister Mary Cynthia...

Perhaps you would
lead us in Grace.

Dost think because
thou art a rat,

there shall be no
more cakes and ale?

What a caterwauling
do we keep here!

Oh, good. Can you
go straight through,

and help Nurse Gilbert
in the delivery room?

Doctor's been delayed
at the Board of Health,

and we've a lady in there
with an occipital posterior.

Nothing like manning the
gas and air to start the day.

Trixie. Is there any news
of Sister Monica Joan?

How can a trail
go cold like that?

When someone has a
home, and when they're loved.

The Board of Health have
approved the quarantine regulations.

Hendy Street and St John's schools
are breaking up early for Christmas,

and all children's groups
are suspended till New Year.

You did the right
thing to push for that.

I'm glad you think so. Because the
suspended groups include your choir.

- No...
- I'm sorry, Shelagh.

But I never want to put another
unresponsive child into an ambulance.

Mr Swann. I appreciate
your disappointment.

But we can't magic up a children's
choral performance out of thin air.

And I can't bring the magic of
Christmas all the way to Poplar

wrapped in paper and string.

You have to furnish
the sparkle, Reverend.

Those were the
terms of the deal.

We're in the grip of
a measles epidemic.

I had chickenpox when
I was doing Peter Pan

with Madame Ada's
Champagne Babes.

I still managed to play the
Princess Theatre nightly!

Have you never heard the
phrase, "The show must go on"?

It's not a show, Mr Swann,
it's an act of worship.

Until somebody films it.

And if nobody films it, you might
as well worship in a darkened room

with all the doors locked.

What do you mean,
if nobody films it?

Mr Swann, I think that what Mr
Hereward hasn't made clear is that

the children have been quarantined
for the good of their health.

And I'm sure you don't wish
to see that compromised.

Of course not, but...

And I'm sorry you weren't
taken better care of as a child.

No-one should have forced
you to go on as Peter Pan.

I wasn't even Peter
Pan. I was Smee.

Children matter, Mr Swan.

And they are at the
very heart of Christmas.

But if you put them at
risk just to prove that point,

you make a nonsense of it all.

What do you propose
we do, Mrs Turner?

Simply bring your cameramen

and your lighting equipment
to the church as planned.

And we will give you
a show to be proud of.

- Mrs Turner?
- Hello, Iris.

I've finished the first of
the shepherds last night.

I think the tunic's
come up lovely,

just I wanted you see it
before I got the rest sewn up.

I got two mums flat
out on Mary and Joseph,

and two more sneaking the
angels into work with them.

They're seamstresses
down the curtain factory.

Naughty girls.

They're good girls.
It was a good cause.

Was a good cause?

- Shall I bring it in now?
- Yes!

Make sure you
take it off the barrow.

Oh, he will dither.
Thing is, Mrs Turner,

you need something
better than an orange box

if that manger's
gonna be on the telly.

- I know, but...
- I'm proud of this church.

And I've put all
the love and care

I couldn't spend on
Lorna into looking after it.

Made sure its face is
clean and its hair's brushed,

always made sure it was turned
out in its proper Sunday best.

Yeah, maybe Lorna wouldn't
have loved me fussing.

She might've been one of
them little madams who wriggles

and says the brush hurts.

But I think she would've
liked you to have this.

I've spent 22 Christmases
not letting any joy in

because I had no
child to share it with.

This year's been different.

Has it?

Well, I stopped holding out
against the happiness, didn't I?

And I found out that Christmas
was meant for me, too.

I pretended to Mr Swan that the
children weren't the most important thing,

yet I just don't know how
I'm going to replace them.

Oh, I don't either.

You keep that cradle.

Took me too long to let it go.

- Can I help you?
- You may stand aside and admit me.

My parents had a
run of woeful butlers.

But none that ever
wore their hat indoors.

Mind all this stuff. I
wouldn't like you to trip.

There were once a
pair of wolfhounds here,

Romulus and Remus.

They sprawled on the
floor in semblance of a rug,

and caused more mishaps

than any mess of cycle parts.

I think that might've
been before our time.

Almost all the world was
before your time, child.

Though I see from
the badges you affect,

you are concerned to
see it last a little longer.

We're squatting here while we
protest at the Aldermaston base.

This was a school
for a bit, but it shut,

and they can't sell it because
there are nuclear weapons

two miles up the road.

This was always a house
of discord and attrition.

I was almost never happy
here. But it was my home.

I shall need a hot
brick for my feet.

So you want the midwives of Nonnatus
House to sing instead of the children?

Wearing our uniforms
and our habits.

I almost didn't like
to come and ask you.

It seems frivolous, and stupid to
be fretting about a carol service

when Sister Monica
Joan is missing.

And that's without
the television element.

I do know you were
always uneasy about that.

I was.

But it sometimes seems to me the
older I get, the more I have to learn.

We get so much out of love.

We find strength
in it and courage.

Love is our
foundation and our fuel.

But if we don't
show enough of it...

No, Sister. No. You are not to blame
for Sister Monica Joan running away.

Then we might as well
not feel any love at all.

And that is why I am here choosing
clothes so a woman who drowned,

who didn't even have a name, can be
buried with some evidence that someone,

somewhere cared.

And that is why I'm going say
"yes" to singing in your choir.

I offered her some of that lentil
risotto, but she didn't want to know.

I had a bit more luck
with the Eccles cakes.

Should we send for a doctor?

We aren't registered with one. We could
take her to hospital, if she gets worse.

I shall be taken nowhere.

It was effort enough
to make my way here,

- now that I am home, I am quite content.
- But, Antonia...

It seems strange, to hear my
name again, within these walls.

Antonia.

I have come home to be counted.

Do you suppose it's all right for us
to feel excited about the broadcast?

If Sister Monica Joan were here,

she'd be more excited
about it than anyone.

We should enter into
the spirit of it, for her sake.

Exactly.

Barbara, you must let me
give you a make-up lesson.

The television lights can be
frightfully cruel to one's complexion.

We won't even be able to
see ourselves perform anyway.

Unless we stand outside the electrical
shop and peer in through the window.

I suppose my family will see me.

They'll be watching the broadcast
when it's screened on Christmas Day.

Pan-Stik, that's it. I promise
you. Just one layer of Pan-Stik,

and some rouge and a
teensy lick of mascara.

Trixie, Barbara
doesn't need mascara.

Oh, some lipstick might be nice.

With a touch of Gay Geranium
you'd look quite like Jean Simmons.

The young Jean
Simmons, obviously.

Haven't been to
the cinema for years.

Behold, I bring tidings of great joy.
We have a truncated house-call list

this evening, so we can finish
early to attend choir practice.

All right, all right, your
enthusiasm is duly noted,

now let's turn our minds back
from our performance to our patients.

Nurse Mount...

Mm.

You've made me swallow it.

It's meant to be a gargle
to lubricate my tubes.

Mrs Turner recommended
it, after rehearsal.

My singing is rather rusty.

I'd have recommended engine oil.

I'm not going to
quarrel with you.

Not at Christmas, not with
everything hanging over us like this.

You mean Sister Monica Joan?

Oh, yes, I could kick
myself. I really could!

If we get her back safely, she can put
up next year's tree on Easter Sunday

if she likes.

I just keep running
through everything I said.

I keep running over
everything she said.

When she was ill.
Delirium's always interesting.

Sometimes the truth comes out.

- Was she talking about her mother?
- Mostly.

She was talking
about her childhood.

About the house she lived in,
and what they did when it was cold.

It must have been on her mind,

because the next day
she mentioned it again.

The house?

She said everyone should
go home for Christmas,

that was why Jesus
was born in Bethlehem.

Something about that
being its true meaning.

I know where she is.

Morning, Sister...

Sister Monica Joan. I know where
she is. Here. I've written it all down.

No! I'm sorry. This really
doesn't say "manger" to me.

It isn't supposed to. It's
supposed to say "cradle".

Something every mother
watching is going to recognise.

Just as they'll recognise the
new-born baby that we'll place there.

Will it be a good
looking new-born baby?

We don't know yet. We haven't
been to the maternity home to pick one.

- Yes.
- I'll make sure the information

- is passed on.
- Thank you.

An Inspector from the
Berkshire Constabulary

is gonna call me
back in due course.

"Due course"? She's
been missing for days,

- and she's nearly 90!
- This address is out of my area, Sister.

It has to be referred.
I'm just as worried as you.

But those are the regulations.

Regulations! One
day, Sergeant Noakes,

when you're a bit less
wet behind the ears,

you will realise there are regulations
and there is common sense!

Stop! Wait!

Morning, Sister! What
happened to your bike?

Nothing. But pedal power isn't going
to get me all the way to Berkshire!

Berkshire? I've got a
van full of Christmas trees.

Go!

I am reconciled to the
lady on the right's habit.

It smacks somewhat of the Virgin
Mary, which is nothing if not fortuitous.

But this... The hat,
the mackintosh?

Oh, we won't be
wearing our macs.

And the cardigans are
really very Christmassy!

Glorious Technicolour has
not come to the BBC yet, dear.

And this fabric
is terribly limp.

Oh, they're midwives. The
uniforms get washed a lot.

Is there the smallest
chance of frilly little caps?

Oh! Quite a big one, actually.

And if you stump up for
more broderie anglaise,

they could be
very frilly indeed.

I shall be starting on your
"ensemble" in a moment.

Mrs Turner.

Iris! Whatever's the matter?

I woke up feeling proper rotten.

I had a kidney stone last year.

I reckon it's come back.

And it would be today,
when there's so much to do.

Today's just the rehearsal.

And the church looks beautiful.

I'm taking you to see Doctor.

Antonia. Antonia!

Nanny found the Bible
in your room again!

Antonia. Try to drink something.

There was a piano in here,

but I imagine you
used it for firewood.

You must take in some fluids or
we'll have to take you to hospital.

I will not go.

The story is concluded.

I was born in this house,

and am content to
meet my Maker here.

Have you passed
any blood recently?

No. I've had the
change. I had it early.

I meant in your urine.

No.

I have been going
more than usual though.

Oh, I feel a bit sick.

The pain's in my back, mostly.

Iris, dear.

When you're ready, we're
going to get you to your feet

and going to help you
across to the maternity home.

Maternity home?

You're going to have a baby.

When?

Very soon.

I, I don't, I, I...

I don't feel safe.

When I had my Lorna,
Sister Julienne said

the most important
thing was to feel safe.

I'll ring Nonnatus House.

Will you please put your foot
down, before I put it down for you!

I'm driving down
dangerous country lanes.

There might be
rabbits. Or sheep.

Iris. Iris.

I know this is hard to
get to grips with, I know.

I'm 46. How can I
not have known?

You're not the first woman
this has happened to.

It's rare, but you're not alone.

But will it be all right?
How's it gonna be all right?

Everything will be all
right, Iris. I promise you.

Sister Julienne?

You delivered my Lorna.

Yes, I did.

And I've often remembered
her in my prayers.

I never thought I'd
have another child.

I just, I kept loving her.

And you always will.

Love is not going to
be halved, but doubled.

That's it, that's it, Iris.

Another strong, steady push.

That's it, that's it! Yes!

Perfect! Perfect!

Baby's head's stopped slipping
back now. It will be with us soon.

Your husband's
arrived now, Iris.

Doctor Turner's just bringing
him up to date with events.

That's it. Nice, steady drag.

This is the place.

Well done.

It's a little girl.

And she's beautiful.

Come here.

Come home.

Come to your mum.

Shh, shh.

- I - remember the days of old,

I meditate on all thy works, I
muse on the works of thy hands.

I stretch forth my
hands unto thee,

my soul thirsteth after thee,

as in a thirsty land.

Cause me to hear thy loving
kindness in the morning,

for in thee do I trust.

Cause me to know the
way wherein I should walk,

for I lift up my soul unto thee.

Amen.

Amen.

Open wide.

I think you'll find it's my turn
to start shouting the odds.

Police have arrived.

They want to know if they
should call an ambulance.

An ambulance is not required.

I have funds aplenty, since I
pawned my mother's jewels.

You pawned them?

It was an interesting
experience.

En route, I spent one highly displeasing
night in a Gerrards Cross guesthouse.

Much capital remains.

I suggest we telephone a taxi.

Your chauffeur already awaits.

I reckon, uh,

about six pound four ounces.

You're spot on!

Costermonger's never wrong.

What we gonna call her, then?

No sad names, this time.

I'm gonna call her Joy.

Oh, that's a lovely
name to give a child.

It's all we've got to give her.

I haven't got a vest or a
mitten for the poor little scrap.

Nonnatus House,
midwife speaking.

I'm calling from a box on
the corner of Whittle Street.

There's someone there
in need of attention.

What you up to?

We're drawing
the raffle tomorrow.

Tomorrow?

I could murder a bit
of cheese on toast.

I've been driving
through countryside.

Well, you can have cheese on toast
when you've helped me out with this lot.

I want you to take out all
the 84's and all the 85's.

I reckon this is immoral.

Well, keep at it.

And then you've got a choice of
Wensleydale, Cheddar, or Red Leicester.

They say the
headaches will fade away.

I just need to rest
for a little longer.

Not that my mother
will let me do much else.

Will she let you
come back to work?

I have to come back to work.

Back to London.

This is where my life is.

And where you are.

Deels. I'm not going anywhere.

But you can't come back if they
don't give you a clean bill of health.

They will.

I'll make them.

People out here are waiting!

People in here are waiting.

Shelagh, it's here. I found it.

Wait there.

I didn't know you
could arrange flowers.

There's a lot about
me that you don't know.

Beatrix Franklin,
Midwife of Mystery.

In your own time, Mr
Swann. Any ticket you like.

Number 85!

Ah! Fancy that.

Ooh!

Sometimes, the
route to joy is indirect,

our journey home not
quite as we expected.

Look to the camera. Ready?

There is no magic
star to guide our steps,

no ancient prophecies
to predict our way.

The greatest gift is to know
that we travel not alone,

but in the company of others.

That there are hands we can
reach for and hearts to keep us warm.

Thank you.

♪ Silent night

♪ Holy night

♪ All is calm

♪ All is bright

♪ Round yon virgin

♪ Mother and child

♪ Holy infant,
so tender and mild

♪ Sleep in heavenly peace

♪ Sleep in heavenly peace

♪ Silent night

♪ Holy night

♪ Shepherds quake

♪ At the sight

♪ Glories stream
from heaven above

♪ Heavenly hosts sing Hallelujah

♪ Christ the Saviour is born

♪ Christ the Saviour is born ♪

Sister Monica Joan

never did redeem her mother's
jewels from the pawn shop.

Instead, she
purchased two things.

A replacement for
the Christmas pudding

and a television set.

She deemed both essential for
contentment at Nonnatus House.

If others disagreed, they gave
no voice to their objections.

And the family gathered round,

watching their faces
flicker black and white.

Their very presence in
the room an act of love,

a welcome home.