All language subtitles for Call The Midwife 11x08 - Episode 8 (English)

Don't stand here! Move back!

Fred, Fred!

What's the latest advice?

They've put a ladder up on the
bridge, they're going to

get the injured down that way,
but there's people climbing over

the old sheds on the far side
and it's not safe.

All right, direct them this way,
we're setting up

a first aid station inside Nonnatus.

Fred! Fred!

Nancy. Were you on the train?

Yes, I-I-I was on the train and...
and I went to the toilet and...

Calm down. It's all right,
it's all right...

It's not all right!

I was with Sister Julienne
and Dr Turner.

And I left them.

I couldn't get back to them.

I don't know where they are, Fred.

I don't want it.
I don't like needles.

We need the afterbirth to come away.
It's been 30 minutes...

Sister Edwards, a natural third
stage can take up to an hour.

Leave the midwifery decisions
to me, please.

This is a busy department.

We haven't got all night.

I want to see my baby.

Please, can I see my baby?

Carole.

Baby was just too small
and too weak to live.

Did I do it wrong?

Did I hurt it? No.

No, its lungs weren't
fully developed.

It would never have been able
to breathe on its own.

I'm sorry!

I'm sorry, I'm sorry!

Please would you take this, Nurse?

There's still nobody answering.

We have reports that
ambulances and fire engines...

It might not be that near
to Nonnatus House.

They might not even know.

..this evening's crash, which took
place at the junction of Wick Street

and Hendy Street, in the vicinity
of the overhead railway bridge.

It might not be Dad's train.
Turn it off.

Turn it off before the children
come downstairs.

Dr Turner...

Dr Turner. Patrick?

You seem...

..to have lost consciousness
for just a moment.

A bit of a bump...

I was only out for a minute or so
when we crashed.

You?

It...it appears I...

..I mislaid a shoe.

Like Cinderella.

We have to get out.

Preferably before midnight.

We can't.

There's something...
jammed across the door.

Mrs Carnie?

Mrs Carnie.

Just try to...to remain calm.

Help...is on its way.

Mrs Carnie. Take my hand.

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

Lucille says we'll need pads,
bandages and slings.

I have combed glass from the hair
of victims in the Blitz.

The shards go everywhere.

In flesh, in clothing...

We must prepare for burns.

And who knows...
what other terrors.

There's a man in the porch with
a compound fracture of his ankle.

Are you sure? Yeah, the bone's
protruding through the flesh.

We need sterile padding to place
around the wound.

Do you have medical experience,
Mr Aylward?

Yes, from my National Service.

I'll go straight out to him as soon
as I've seen to Mrs Wallace.

Line up any new arrivals in
the corridor, please.

Her clothes are drenched.

I think the water from the urn
must have scalded her.

If I had my bag, I would
at least have a torch

so I could see her properly.

And pethidine.

Doctor, it's not just water.

She's bleeding.

Give me your hand, Mrs Carnie.

There.

Just breathe.

Think of each breath.

Each and every gentle
outgoing breath...

..as pushing the pain away.

You never have to experience this
particular pain again.

Soon, my husband will come.

Indeed, he will.

I keep listening for his train.

I always listen out for
his last train of the day.

I'm not sure I ever
really hear it...

..but I like to think I do.

What time was his train, again?

He was driving the 5:19.

CDC, reporting.

They need help sorting
the arc lights. Sir.

And we need a blanket for this one.

Casualty?

Fatality. It's the driver.

Nonnatus House.
May I be of assistance?

Cyril.

We've been hearing reports about an
accident near the railway bridge.

Is everything all right?

No, Mrs Turner.

I'm afraid it is not.

Reggie.

There's a lot going on here,
and with everybody rushing about,

I think it's...it's probably
for the best if we go home.

Fred's near here.

Yes, I know Fred's near here,
but, erm, he won't come

to any harm, because the accident
itself has happened, it's over.

And he's busy helping people.

I want to help people.

Well, everyone does when something
terrible happens.

How?

Well, people try and think
of something, you know,

that they're good at.

Something that might make other
people feel better, and...

..and then they do that.

I can make tea.

The blood is coming from the top
of her leg.

I think it's the femoral artery.

Do we need a tourniquet?

Can you remove your tie?

The wound is almost in the groin.

I...I need a pad to apply pressure.

Take these.

Can you fold them?

I think my wrist is broken.

I need somebody...
to tell my daughter.

Don't worry.

All will be well.

I need somebody to tell her.

There's smoke.

It's just dust, I promise you,
Mrs Carnie.

When I was having the nippers...

..there was always a bit,
just before they were born,

when you...

..the Sisters...

..used to drop the "Mrs"
and start to call me Dorothy.

We do that with labouring mothers.

I liked it.

We can do that now, Dorothy.

It always meant I was getting
to the end.

That's the placenta
all present and correct.

We can move you to the ward.

I'm sorry.

Carole needs a bed bath,
a hot drink and some toast

before she goes any further
than this room.

And this room needs to be
turned round quickly.

We've other ladies already
in established labour.

Well, you can see to the practical
tasks, while I look after Carole.

Or we can do it the other
way around.

And I'll tidy up,
while you get her settled.

No mother ever forgets her children
being born,

or the midwife who delivers them.

Let's get her a nightie.

And some warm water.

If the little ones ask where I am,
say I've had to go to work.

And don't let them anywhere near
the radio or the television.

Mum.

Dad and I weren't speaking.

That can't be helped now.

Straight across and report
to the nurse.

Nobody leaves the scene until
they've been checked first.

Make way, mate.

The embankment's on fire,
there's people trapped.

I had forgotten how much it hurts!

Edina, my dear, my advice
is to keep looking forward.

Keep looking forward to seeing
your baby's face.

And my husband's face.

His face if I give him a son.

He so wants a son.

He just doesn't know I know.

O, Father of mercies
and God of all comforts.

We fly unto thee for succour...

..on behalf of this, thy servant,

here lying under thy hand in
great weakness of body.

Look graciously upon her,
O, Lord, we beseech thee.

Is that a prayer for the dead?

It's for the dying.

Because she's gone.

I don't know what to pray for...!

I don't know what has happened,

what will come to pass.

I don't know what to do
apart from wait...!

And the waiting will kill me.

Come where there are other people.

Come where you can help.

Where did they take her?

Hospitals have...

..routines when babies
are lost like this.

Is the routine a funeral?

No.

Will they just throw her away?

No.

I threw her away.

Pretended she didn't exist.

Like my mum threw me away,
pretended I didn't exist.

I don't deserve better.

Don't say that. I don't.

But that baby does.

The only thing she's ever going
to do in the world is leave it.

She can't just vanish.

It'd be as though she's never been.

We must take a note of the name,
age and address of everyone

who comes in here requiring
medical attention.

What about telephone numbers?

Their own, if they have one,
or a neighbour's.

Miss Higgins, we're out
of sterile dressings

and the antiseptic's running low.

I'll go to the maternity home
and collect some fresh supplies.

Oh, love...

You said you wanted to look
after Carole.

I am looking after Carole.

She wanted to know what had happened
to her baby.

She can't be told.

And I hope you wouldn't try.

Not if this is all there is
to tell her.

That her baby was just put to
one side to be...processed.

As though it were nothing more than
just a bit of dirty washing.

What do you do on the district
with a stillbirth?

We don't do this.

Tell me what you can do
that is better.

There's a longstanding tradition -
when a baby has never lived

and can't have a funeral of its own,

of putting them in the coffin
of someone else who's died.

Then they can go into
consecrated ground

and they have somebody
to protect them.

Is it the midwife who talks
to the undertaker?

Or a priest does, or a relative.

Even a neighbour.

Someone who cares.

I'll fetch you a blanket and a bag.

Thank you.

And I've found Carole
a bed on Female Medical.

She won't hear any babies
crying there.

It's your ribs.

I think they might be broken.

Can you say up?

Say up?

Sit up.

Take the pressure off.

Sorry...

My head...

The blunt trauma.

Help will come.

We simply have to wait.

You've been doing
tremendous work, Edina.

There's just a tiny lip of cervix
we need to see off,

and then we'll be ready to push.

I haven't got the strength...

An absolute ocean of hormones
is going to come

whooshing to your rescue.

We're going to turn you round
for the next bit,

into a more comfy position
for your poor old pubis.

I'm too tired...!

I'm going to see if I can find
a sweetie for you suck on

before you start to push.
At ease, now.

Stop, thief.

Where are you going with my Savlon?

Nonnatus House finds itself at
the heart of a disaster.

The 5:19 from Chelmsford
has derailed,

close to the railway bridge.

As I was leaving, a fireman informed
me that the driver has been killed.

The 5:19?

But...

The wife of the driver
is in my care.

In labour.

I only left her to see if I could
find her a boiled sweet.

We'd be better off with bags
than tea leaves,

the rate we're turning
these pots around.

Everything's under control,
except for that washing up.

You do your bit and I'll do mine.

Take them all.

They're glucose-dusted fruit thins.

Meanwhile, she does not, and
will not, know she is a widow

until the birth is over. She has
hard work to do, and I will not be

the one who makes that
work impossible.

But how can I help you?

Get confirmation,
absolute confirmation,

that the baby's father has died,
before I break the news.

If you aren't needed at Nonnatus,
will you come back here?

So much of my life has been
about waiting.

Waiting for the telephone to ring.

Waiting for babies to arrive.

Waiting for God.

And even He can take his time.

People wait for us, usually.

We're the cavalier.

Do you mean the cavalry?

I didn't say that, did I?

I knew what you meant.

Fresh supplies of dressings
and antiseptic, as requested.

Thank you.

How did you do this?
Did you fall from the ladder?

No.

Thrown across the carriage.

In the crash?

And then you came climbing down
the side of that bridge?

It's me arm, not me leg.

It's a broken arm,
by the looks of it.

You're going to have to go to
the hospital and get it set.

You wait here.

Mr Aylward.

I need another bed made up on
the floor of the chapel.

I've a man with a serious fracture

and the pulse in his arm
is very faint.

Do we need to get him to
St Cuthbert's? As soon as possible.

Along with Mrs Wallace.

The ambulance crews are prioritising
getting passengers

from the wreck.

People are still trapped.

It has been sugared
and also stirred.

I keep thinking
I'm going to be sick.

The nausea is due to your distress.

It will pass.

Imbibe this.

And prepare yourself to lend
a hand downstairs.

This is what it meant when the bird
flew into Nonnatus House, isn't it?

This is the disaster it predicted.

Not just disaster.

It predicted death.

I will not indulge you
in this matter.

Oh, you indulged yourself enough.

You were the one who was
running all over Poplar,

consulting with flamin'
clairvoyants.

I indulged my fascination,

because we were living in
ordinary times.

Tonight, we are not living in
ordinary times.

No.

We aren't.

During hours as dark as these,

we cannot engage with any aspect
of the supernatural.

Is that glass?

It is.

All thoughts beyond the practical
and corporeal

must be set aside.

Even God...must be set aside...

..while we deal with what is urgent

and what is put before us.

Oh, dear...

I was at the undertakers.
They told me what's happened.

Oh, thank goodness you're here.
All skilled hands are sorely needed.

Miss Higgins.

Timothy.

I-I thought you were with
the little ones?

I left them with the next-door
neighbour. Are my parents here?

Your mother is inside.

It's just that, I know as soon
as my dad gets off the train

he'll want his bag so he can help.

He's helped at the scene of so many
accidents, and he always wears

his white coat so they know
he's a doctor.

Your father is still on
the train, Timothy.

Is he trapped?

Nobody knows.

Go to your mother and wait with her.

I need at least one ambulance,
specific to this address,

as soon as possible. Two casualties
require immediate -

I repeat, immediate -
transfer to hospital.

Tell me what to do.

Oi! Doc.

Me?

All medics to go up to the wreckage.

I'll take your bag.

That's it. That's the way.

You meet that pain head on
and make it work for you.

I'd head further up.

Carriages three and four.

There's another fatality over here.

That's it, that's it.

Baby's head didn't slip back
after that contraction.

I can't do it...!

Edina, you've almost finished
the job.

Dad?

Dad!

Gather that strength now.

Gather all that strength
for the shoulders.

Let's see if we can make this
your very last push.

What is it? What do I have?

A little boy.

I have everything.

Doctor.

Don't fall asleep.

Dad?

Listen.

Dad, if you can hear me,
say something.

Here!

Here!

Here!

Quick, this way!

There's survivors in here!

You'll have to smash your way in.

Stand back!

It cannot be true.

It is too much of a disaster.

You have to say this is not true...

You have to say this is
a mistake...!

I wish I could.

I wish from the bottom of my heart,
I could.

But there can be no doubt.

Miss Higgins has spoken
to the police.

It is true?

I am so very sorry.

Where is our baby?

I want our baby. I want him...!

Please, bring him.
He's in the nursery.

Dad!

Tim...

Tim!

Tim...

Your father...

..has a head injury.

And the woman beside me
is deceased.

OK.

They're coming with arc lights,
they'll get you out soon.

You shouldn't be in
a white coat, Tim...

I've brought you your bag.

Where have you hurt your head?

Back...

If it's being, it's bleeding inside.

What would you diagnose?

I think, erm...in all cases of
concussion, you...

..you must X-ray the skull
to rule out fracture.

Sister... Sister!

Sister, what's the matter?

My...my chest...and my arm.

Pulse. Take her pulse.

Rapid and thready, and...

Her lips are turning blue.

Is she having a heart attack?
Aspirin.

Give her one aspirin.

Get...get her into
the recovery position.

Aspirin?

My bag.

Mrs Corbett.

Would you like me to fetch
your little girl?

She is in good and caring hands,
with two ladies from our church.

Let her sleep.

Tomorrow she will have
to start a new life.

Like me.

This is not the way this day
should end.

Or how his world should begin.

Word from the crews, mate.

Check that the stretchers go back
on the right vehicles,

they're not all the same size.
Will do.

Timothy?

No, no...

It's my dad, Fred,
and Sister Julienne.

She needs a cardiac specialist.

Heart attack.

Doc, you can stand down now.

Fetch your mum from Nonnatus. Run!

Let's go.

Out of the way!
Casualty coming through!

We could hardly move her,
she was in so much pain.

And the doc's face was
as white as paper.

Normally...

..it's them telling us what to do.

We've tried to keep the ship afloat.

To be what people needed us to be.

Without Sister Julienne, we've been
like a ship without a rudder.

What will befall us
if she does not return?

I'll tell you what will befall us.

Nonnatus House will sink...

..and we will drown.

That might be the ambulance.

Directory Enquiries.

I'd like the telephone number

for the Gazeley Place Hotel,
Rye, please.

A classic Colle's fracture.

Straight through the distal radius.

Dad.

Stop being a doctor.

Just for tonight.

I'll be leaving all that
to you soon enough.

I said terrible things to you, Dad.

I can't remember.

I've got concussion.

Oh, Patrick!

No skull fracture, though.

Now, go and get yourself
a chocolate bar.

Can you sit up and lean forward
for me, please?

Nurse.

Most people would be relieved
to break their left arm,

rather than their right,
but this is your dominant hand.

it's going to put you
out of action for weeks.

Maybe that's no bad thing.

What?

You think I've got brain damage?

I do feel tempted to ask if you know
the name of the Prime Minister.

When I was in that carriage...

..I felt as far away from home
as I'd ever been in my life.

I felt like an astronaut.

Light years away.

And instead of the Earth...

..the thing in the darkness
was our house.

And you.

We'll get you home as soon
as we can.

I'm home now.

I can see your face.

It really is very good of you
to put me up.

The circumstances are exceptional.

I'll be sharing with Nurse Corrigan.

Good morning, campers.

Or should that be,
wakey, wakey rise and shine?

Phyllis, you're back?

Lass, I most certainly am.

Oh! Nurse Crane.

Mr Aylward?

Is this a convent,
or a branch of the YMCA?

Sorry to disturb.

Once you're both up, dressed and
downstairs, we can discuss what

the alarm clock has done to offend.

Ah, do you know there was
a train crash last night?

I was summoned by Miss Higgins.

And now the clinical room
needs cleaning,

the autoclave needs loading,

and all medical supplies
require a stock check.

Nobody told us you were coming back.

Evidently.

Or I might have found my Rolodex
in better order.

I know it's a Sunday,
but it's an unusual Sunday.

And we're heading for
a very unusual week.

The institute is out of bounds due
to possible structural damage,

which means this week's clinic will
have to take place at the surgery.

Is there any news
of Sister Julienne?

Sister Monica Joan is putting
some necessities together.

I suggest Sister Frances takes them
to the hospital.

You can speak directly to
the nursing staff.

I've had no luck getting through
on the phone.

Now, Nurse Corrigan, I have three
post-natal visits for you -

Singh, Bevan and Griffiths.

It sounds like baby Griffiths
is showing signs of colic.

Assess for gripe water.

Nurse Robinson, the
maternity home for you.

Sister Hilda must be on
her last legs.

And poor Mrs Corbett is going
to need very special care.

I know. I'll do my best.

We all need to do our best just now.

My investigation into
how...Leatherbarrow, Mary

ended up in section U
remains ongoing.

She had ulcers.

Don't push it.

I'm not insisting on seeing Sister
Julienne if she's waiting for

the doctor's round.

But I do need to give her
these things.

Someone said that she'd lost her cap
and her wimple in the crash

and, well, she's used

to keeping her head covered.
It's what we do.

Leave it with me.

I want my mum.

She'll be back in a minute.

And I want my dad.

Oh, precious. This is so hard.

And it's even harder when people
tell you to be brave.

So, I'm not going to tell you that.

I'm going to tell you it's all right
to be sad.

What's an inquest?

An inquest?

My auntie says there's
going to be one.

Roberta. Bobbie.

Look who's come to meet you.

How was it down there?

They've started shifting the debris.

It felt proper peculiar flogging
papers all morning.

Every headline is about
the accident.

I'm just glad the pictures
were all black and white.

I need you to help me choose
a name. Daddy and I hadn't decided.

Jeremy?

What do you think?

Classy. I like it.

If Jeremy is his middle name,

his first name could begin with
an R,

to go with Roberta.
Or B because we call you Bobbie.

B...

B for Barry.

How about Benedict?

Bobbie and Benedict. Perfect.

Can you come back with
Dean, tomorrow?

I keep thinking about him,

but Norma's going to be too busy
with all the other foster kids.

Carole.

I really think you need to rest
for a little while.

I've been thinking about my other
baby, too.

The undertakers are taking good care
of her.

Do you know who she'll be
buried with?
Not yet.

But I'm sure they'll tell you.

I'd like her to go
with someone kind.

I'm sure she will.

What's it feel like,
to be sure of things?

A relief. But most of the time I'm
raddled with uncertainty.

"Raddled"! I love the way you talk.

I feel like I don't know anything.

The doctors in here,
it's like they're telling you

to mind your own business when you
ask them things.

What is it that you want to ask?
What's wrong with me.

Why I've stopped itching since
the baby was born.

And why did he say I've got liver
disease? Liver disease kills people.

Carole.
What's the name of your consultant?

We don't generally discuss
our patients

with anyone other than
their next of kin.

Carole's next of kin is
an eight-month-old baby, Mr Harper.

I'm her midwife

and we need to know how we can best
help her once she's discharged.

Well, it wouldn't appear there's
anything in particular you CAN do

for her.
It's a bit of a head-scratcher.

She seems to have been
suffering from

a condition known as intrahepatic
cholestasis of pregnancy.

Is it a liver problem?

Yes. Your young lady had
a full house of symptoms -

jaundice, malaise, itching -

and the signs are that it's started
to resolve since she delivered.

Could it happen again?
If she had another baby?

Well, research suggests that it
may well happen again.

It might be interesting to see.

I'm not entirely sure why
they are doing

so many investigations.
If I've had a heart attack,

there's nothing they can do.

I suppose rest and painkillers.

And wait for it to happen again
and finish me off.

My life will be short
and I will be an invalid.

I am trying to find
the consolation in it.

There is no consolation in it.

Page 37.

Julian of Norwich has advice on most
eventualities, I find.

"We need to fall
and we need to be aware of it,

"for if we did not fall,

"we should not know how weak
and wretched we are of ourselves."

"Nor should we know our
Maker's marvellous love so fully."

I'm sorry.

But this isn't our Maker's
marvellous love,

to make you suffer

and possibly take you

out of His world before your time.

I'm not excluded from
the trials of this life,

nor am I exempt from its conclusion
on this Earth.

I am lying here,
in this bed like any other woman,

not knowing what my fate might be.

Now, you know the difference between
the two-ply

and the three-ply. So

I need you to put them into separate
piles, and then we will count them.

But it's boring.

Well, it's not a thrill a minute,
I will grant you that,

Reggie. But it's normal life,

and normal life is about doing
boring things.

Two-ply...

Afternoon. Am I

speaking to Violet Buckle
off the Council?

Councillor Buckle, please.

And, yes, this is my
establishment...

Ian Myner, I'm from the Gazette.

We're looking for
a fresh angle on the railway story.

It isn't a "story",

it's a tragedy.
Five people lost their lives.

Well, in your opinion,

could there have been any
malpractice involved?

Any breaking of safety rules?

We're hearing it might have been
down to driver error.

I don't think it is appropriate
to speculate.

Look, Councillor Buckle.

I know the old saying goes,
"accidents happen",

but I think we both know
they don't.

Don't you dare try
and put words into my mouth.

I am an elected official
of this borough,

and as such I only say what is
appropriate and necessary.

I'm also a resident of Poplar

and anyone entering my premises
scandalmongering will be shown

the door. Look, I'm from the
East End. I'm from Plaistow.

Well, then, you ought to know that
if you want a "fresh angle" about

the railway tragedy then you only
have to look out there, where all

the ordinary people are who
pull together to get us through.

I mean, there are heroes everywhere
you look.

I'll take your word for it.

Oh, no, you won't.

You can interview one
of them who is standing right here.

I've never even heard

of intrahepatic cholestasis
of pregnancy.

My entire career in this profession
has been punctuated by revelations

and discoveries.

A woman's flesh is as replete
with secrets as

a pomegranate is with seeds.

What shocked me was how quickly

the conversation turned
from complications

with Carole's pregnancy
to controlling her fertility.

It was as though
the doctor couldn't fix one thing,

he'd just fix another.

It isn't that poor girl's body
that needs fixing, it's her life.

She's already come under pressure
to have the coil fitted.

And all that will do is stop her
getting pregnant.

From what you told me, it won't stop
her looking for love,

and not necessarily in
the right place.

Oh, honest to God,
sex - who needs it?

Girls think they want sex when all
they really want is

to be wanted.

Simple kindness could do
the same job better.

Afternoon. Can I help you?

I'm Pauline Brettell.
My maiden name was Carnie.

Please may I speak to the Sisters?

I had heard there was a nun on
the train. I thought,

"I wonder if my mum made her
a cup of tea."

Or if they'd even seen each other.

I knew she would have liked it
if she did.

There are countless Carnie family
members on our books.

I've seen you all in our records.
And then,

when we got her things back,
I found these.

They've been all mixed up in her
clothes, just shoved into a bag.

I tried to get all the blood out.

I even used my mum's old washboard
and Robin Blue, but...

you can still see the stains.

You should never have been allowed
to see such a thing.

It made it easier.

I realised she must have been
with one of you.

We are the Sisters
of Raymond Nonnatus,

present at life's commencement
and its end.

She loved all of you.
Almost as much as she loved babies.

Us obviously, but she was always mad
on little ones.

It didn't even matter if they
weren't related.

I'm glad Sister Julienne was
with her.

And I'm sure we can find out more.

I know enough.

I just wish there was some way that
I could thank you,

for all the good you did,
the comfort that you brought her.

There is one kindness that we could
ask of you.

And would you like to share that
with your Sisters,

before perhaps placing Mrs Brettell
in a difficult position?

And this lady in the train crash,
she had loads of kids?

Nine. And 18 grandchildren.

Well, she'd be lonely, wouldn't she?
Being buried all on her own.

And I don't think she'd ever been
lonely in her life.

If my baby can go in with her,

I think that'd be lovely.

Even in ordinary circumstances,

we'd discourage
a mother from going home so soon.

And your circumstances
are not ordinary.

My daughter needs
to come home from school today

and see me in my own kitchen.
At my own stove.

And she needs to sleep in her
own bed.

She was taunted at school yesterday.

Another child told her that her
father had crashed the train.

Nurse Corrigan,
you're to man the weighing station,

Sister Frances is
to take appointments in

the filing room

and Nurse Robinson in the surgery,
adjacent to Dr Wilbraham.

Meanwhile,

the kitchenette has been entirely
turned over to urine testing.

Which I will supervise personally.

Miss Higgins, might I have a word?

If you are brief.

I'm concerned about Edina Corbett.

She's become desperately upset about
her husband's role in

the accident.

There has been speculation regarding

the extent of his culpability.
But surely he's a victim

like any other?

She knows there is to be
a postmortem and an inquest.

But it's all going to be such
a long and drawn-out process.

Leave this with me.

So, what did you think when you
saw all

the injured people coming in off
the train?

I was scared.

But being scared doesn't
help people.

Turn your head towards me a
bit, Reggie.

That way you'll get his best side.

See, Benedict? This is your home.

Mrs Carnie's daughter wanted you
to have this.

It was from the wreath on top of
the coffin.

Ooh, it smells like pepper.

I'm not partial to freesias.

They sound like a really
nice family. Wish I knew 'em.

You don't have to.

Carole...

..there is more kindness in
the world than you have ever seen.

That's not your fault.

But it's there.

And you deserve to receive it just
as much as anybody else.

These people didn't have to do
a single thing for me.

But they did.

It should be me sending
them flowers.

Hello, Bobbie.
We've come to see your mother.

She's crying.

She's been trying to paper
the wall.

There was paste everywhere.

The paper tore.

It looks worse now than when
I started.

Come now.

Benedict doesn't need tears falling
on him as he feeds.

And he doesn't need
a perfectly decorated home,

either. Please don't cry.

I'm crying because I'm angry
with Lionel.

Angry because he left
the job unfinished.

Angry because he left us.

Angry...because he crashed the
train.

Mrs Corbett. I was able to
speak, informally,

to a connection of mine
at the Coroner's Office

following your husband's postmortem.

I have some information that
will help you prepare for

the inquest and then perhaps for
an inquiry later.

Will the Coroner release his body,
for the funeral?

Yes. All is in order.

Your husband suffered trauma to
the chest during

the accident.

But it transpires he was also
suffering from a brain tumour.

A brain tumour? But he wasn't ill.

Sadly, he was - very ill -
although he did not know it.

A headache is so very easily
explained away.

But this type of tumour
causes seizures,

which can be so fleeting he may
scarcely have been aware of them.

However, if he suffered a lapse
of consciousness whilst driving

the train,
he would have lost control of it.

He was not careless?

No. He is not to blame.

And where is the sunflower
going to go?

It's going to go on your hand.

May says she's going to draw
a bird on it.

I don't actually know what
Teddy's planning.

Changeover time.

Go and fetch May.
Then it's Teddy's turn.

I can't wait to see all three of

the little ones jumping around you
at the same time.

But regulations are regulations.

I shall be making up some rules
of my own soon,

about putting lids back on felt-tip
pens. They seem very new-fangled.

Special delivery.

Sister Julienne.

If we overlook

the minor matter
of exactly four broken ribs

and a grazed elbow,

I have been given
a clean bill of health.

But what about your heart?

My heart is as it always was.

I had a chest injury
and was in shock,

and that mimicked an attack.

I will recover. I am coming home.

Sister. I've decided I'm not going
on that coil. Or the pill.

It's your decision to make.

And I'll be making
a lot more of 'em.

I'm Dean's mum, I've got to make his
life come right.

So, I'm not going to go looking
for love off boys I hardly know.

It gets out of hand
and it goes wrong.

And it can wait.

There's a lot can wait.

Do you want to swap?

Sister.

Hello, Mrs Brettel. This is Carole.

I'll have less of the "Mrs", thank
you. Everybody calls me Pauline.

And I hope you will too.
I'm sorry for your loss, love.

I'm sorry for yours.
These are for you. And your mum.

Do you want a cuppa?

My mum loved sitting outside
with her pals

and all the kiddies,
and I'm going to keep it going.

Are you going to join us, Sister?

I wouldn't mind just a biscuit.
But I've got to get on.

Wayne. Mitts off them cremes
and offer them to the Sister.

You've got a little belter there.

Come and meet my Sandra -
her little boy's the same age.

Life so often is about things we
make ourselves.

The homes we build,
the food we share,

the children we carry in our arms.

We turn trial into survival...

..tears into courage...

..and friendship into
everlasting bonds.

We weave our ties by hand,
the kisses on a letter,

the ribbon round a gift,

the flowers sown and grown

and picked and offered up.

Love is our foundation and our roof.

Our walls, our hearth,

our window on the world.

Smile.

Love is our beginning
and it knows no end.