All language subtitles for Allelujah.2022.1080p.WEB-DL.DD5.1.H.264

I have always loved the old.

I have loved them for almost
as long as I have been alive.

Since I was first aware
of their hands around mine.

I love them still.

It is my work, it is my joy.

It is my purpose.

Vali.

--Vali.

But we are all here.
And Nani loves the scarf.

Okay, listen, listen.

Your nieces have a question for you.

Is it true the patients
call you Dr Valentine?

Haan, they do.

Why, when it's not your name?

Because nobody knows how to say

Valinder Singh Vashisht.

-Bye!
- -Bye!

Love you. Miss you.

Good morning, Dr Valentine.

Oh, erm, my grandmother loved the scarf.

Oh! Well, said you couldn't go wrong
with fuchsia, didn't I?

You're a bit earlier than usual,
aren't you?

The television crew are coming.

About the campaign to save the hospital.

Oh, well,
glad someone's taking up the cudgels.

In the meantime, you'd best
head through to Mr Jessop.

Oh, has he
taken a turn for the worse?

Worse.

-No, but he was fine...
-I spoke to the goddaughter.

She was of the view
that cremation would be favoured.

Minister.

Thanks. He's in the, erm, The Bethlehem.

Oh, or The Beth, as they call it up there.

Yeah, well, you know
all these small places

are earmarked for closure,
one way or another.

It's policy. Your policy.

I advised you on it.

Yeah, well, that, er...
that won't be difficult.

Its, er, failings will be legion.

Good morning to you.
Good morning

I see Bouncing Betty's

back on shift again.

Morning, good morning

-Morning.
-Morning.

Good morning to you

I hope that girl remembers I have a cup.

Not a beaker.

They only give you a beaker in The Royal

if you're terminal.

You're not in The Royal now,
Lucille, you're in The Beth.

This is chipped.

No wonder the government
are going to close you down.

You know the way
we do it, Ambrose.

Dr Jones and I have seen
to the two certificates.

And this will remain in situ
till the undertaker comes.

So, fare thee well, Mr Jessop,

who died in the night.

As people do.

It's rather rude of him.

Doesn't he realise there's a queue?

I've just cleared out Mr Jessop's locker.

I thought nippy work were in order,

since we're under pressure bed-wise.

Well, we're always
under pressure bed-wise.

It's been twice as bad

since they shut down
Barbara Cartland Ward.

He didn't really have anyone
to bring him things.

Goddaughter's in Southampton.

Infirmary.

I'm delighted to inform you
we've a free bed at The Beth.

In the men's bay.

No, I'm afraid I can't oblige you
on the women's side.

We have just moved a lady
on to Snowdrop Court,

but her space has gone
to an ankle from The Royal.

Well, maybe they're nicer
to me than you are.

Do you want the men's bed or not?

Yes, thought so.

There's a pair of glasses.

I'll put them in the box
for the Africa appeal.

What do you mean,
you're calling about helium balloons?

Well, I don't care if they are
for a Sister Gilpin's party.

This is a busy hospital department,

and I am Sister Gilpin!

Helium balloons.

Well, they're in your honour, Alma.

You've won a prize.

My service has been acknowledged.

There's no call
for the purchase of party novelties.

-No, soft toys on the right.
-Like this?

- That's nice.
- Right.

How about this
from a standing start, Dr Valentine?

-Marks out of ten?
-Twenty.

The Friends of The Beth
aren't just volunteers.

We're like the little ships of Dunkirk,

poised to mobilise in her hour of need.

We sent a round robin out
about the tabards.

And the sweatshirts.
People were getting sloppy.

Yeah, well, we can't have that
if we're going on television.

Excuse me, gentlemen.

Are you the team from Pennine People?

-Yes.
-Oh. I am Dr Valentine.

We have spoken on the telephone.

Hi. I'm Abdul.

How do?

Well, thank you for supporting our cause.

The notice of closure
came as something of a shock.

Mm. We're a local programme.
This is a local institution.

Founded 1897?

The year Queen Victoria
celebrated her Diamond Jubilee

and coincidentally, aspirin was invented.

Wow, here?

No, in Germany, I believe.

Germany won't play on Pennine People.

I'm sorry. An ambulance is just arriving.

Right, steady on.

Right, you go and park.
I'll go with Mother.

Ambulance. The Royal.

A night on a trolley. Another ambulance.

All present and correct.

We even had a little singsong
along the ring road.

It's all right, Mother. I'm here now.

It was my house!

Oh, is it any wonder

she don't know which way is up?

All is well, my love. All is well.

We will look after you.

Greetings, Shirley Bassey Ward.

We've got a treat lined up
for all of you today.

Gorgeous Gerald, the physio,
will be paying us a call.

Ooh, that's it.

I'm definitely wearing my shorty nightie.

Well, there'll be some singing first
to open up your lungs,

and then he'll get to work
with his magic hands.

Well, last time, he said
my knee would take priority.

I'm a more interesting case.

He gives me tissue massage
on my lymphomania.

Oh, it's your lymphoedema, Hazel.

And please be advised

he'll be doing my neck first. Come on.

You're not a patient, that's incestuous.

Alma, I'm just giving Mary a freshen-up.

She needs everything clean on.

Well, pop it in her notes.

Do you want the toilet, Molly?

Come on, then. Come on, love.

I take it you're the, er...
the Pennine People people?

-Morning.
-Yes. Abdul. Kieran.

Are you the Chair?

-Chairman of the Board.
-Yeah.

Executive or non-executive?

Well, non-executive.
It's an honorary position.

You can't fill a crucial role
like this with a hired hand.

No, the bureaucrats administrate,

I champion. Yeah.

No, this isn't just a hospital.

It's The Beth.

And The Beth is the people.

Yours till the stars lose their glory

Yours till the birds fail to sing

Yours to the end of life's story

This pledge to you, dear, I bring

Here or on far distant shores

You have a lovely voice, Mrs Maudsley.

She sang in concert halls
as a little girl.

And on the wireless.

They called her the Pudsey Nightingale.

A soprano, unless I'm mistaken.

There is definite recognition

when we go through her scrapbook with her.

And her memory for the lyrics
is immaculate.

Oh, people with dementia
can sometimes sing

even when they cannot talk.

The more mobile can even dance
when they hear music.

I wouldn't push it.

She bust her ankle
just trying to get off the commode.

This is Mr Hunsley, Dr Valentine.

He's to wait in here
until his bed's ready.

Sir.

Dr Valentine will come
and see you, Mr Hunsley.

You're in good hands.

Meanwhile, I have a berth
ready and waiting

for a Blanche Alice Maudsley.

Transferred from The Royal A & E.

This is the lady, and this is her family.

I believe we have a recruit
for music therapy.

Mrs Maudsley is a soprano.

How nice.

I'll come and examine her on the ward.

Right.

Would Mother like to be called
Blanche or Mrs Maudsley

while she's with us?

-Oh, I think Mrs Maudsley.
-Yes.

I favour formal terms. Is she continent?

It's all relative.

It was my house.

Mm.

Hmm?

You know, I thought you might like to film
my interview in here.

The background illustrates
the history of the hospital.

Meanwhile, I, as Chairman,

represent its essential essence.

There's a picture of you
here in a dress.

No, I'm in costume.

As Queen Victoria.

It is what one does

when a hospital has to be supported.

Look, er, I happened to be Mayor as well

- when that was taken.
- Hmm.

-You're a busy man.
-Yeah, well...

I've been Mayor twice.
It's a woman currently.

First time for everything, eh?

Meanwhile, we at The Beth
are fighting for our right to care

from the cradle to the grave.

Are we ready to...

Gentlemen.

I am sorry to have been delayed.

We've made very satisfactory
strides in your absence.

I think we can trust the team
to represent us well.

My hope is that
we can represent the people well.

-We've been through all that.
-The old people. The patients.

This is their refuge and their right.

Without The Beth,

I don't like to think
where they will have to go.

Oh.

I don't know why your school
have even sent you here.

We don't offer work experience in nursing.

I shall have to attach you to the porters.

I asked Careers for Computing,
but I applied too late.

I've brought him some theatre pants

and an occupational therapist top half.

-Right.
-It's all I could find in a medium.

What's this?

Well, we endeavour to rise
above leisurewear, Andy.

Helps the old folks keep their bearings.

I hope those trainers are wipe clean.

They'll be getting urine on them.

Come on.

Take me to The Beth.

I can tell you're local.

Some people coming from down south
like to have the window open.

They reckon they can smell the moors.

All I can smell is the past.

You made me love you

And all the time you knew it
I guess you always knew it

You made me happy sometimes
You made me glad

Lovely!

But there were times when

You made me feel so bad

Now remember
who we're going to be singing this for.

Lovely, lovely Sister Gilpin
at her medal presentation.

Yes, we are.

I want some love that's true

Yes, I do, 'deed I do
You know I do

Gimme, gimme, gimme,
gimme what I cry for

-You know you've got
-Lovely big breath in

-for that massive finish!
-The brand of kisses

That I'd die for

Thanks.

-Save The Beth. Save The Beth.
-Yeah.

Fiver a strip to win a week in Cleethorpes

or guess the name of the teddy
for a pound.

Or you can sponsor me to do a skydive.

Pledge now, pay later. Every little helps.

We're not unaware
we're David against Goliath.

But, really, after nigh
on 122 years' service,

they can't expect us
to go down without a fight.

I'm looking for Dusty Springfield.

In person?

Dusty Springfield Ward.

Straight down, first right, second left.

Thanks.

Neville, are you going to
join in the filming?

Not if I'm the only bloody bloke.

Well, I'm a bloke. And so is Ambrose.

Ambrose don't count.

He always got his headphones on.

Where the other one? Glasses.

- Oh, you mean Mr Jessop?
- Mm.

-He's gone.
-Gone where?

Rattled his clack.

In the night.

He was very obese.

Well, he shall be missed in the choir.

He was a bass.

Yeah, well, maybe he was a bass
because he was obese.

And it's not a choir, it's music therapy.

You can't start filming yet.

I'm still busy whitening the sepulchre.

Er, no, no, don't worry.

We're doing a group interview first,

just so I can get to know everybody.

Then we're hoping to talk
to you one at a time

and ask some quick-fire questions.

I can't hear you.

You've still got
your headphones on.

What's the matter, Molly?

Do you need toilet?

All right. But they're trying
to make a film.

Will you let me mind your tray for you?

-Love, don't bang it...
-What's all this?

She never wallops that tray
for no reason, you know.

You all right, Molly?
You come with me, love.

We'll work our way through the checklist.

Come on.

No, you can have it back when you've been.

I know it's important to you, Molly.

If you're the new registrar,

we have a policy
of nothing below the wrist.

Your watch. You'll have to take it off.

I'm a visitor. Not a doctor.

Oh, yes, of course, the T-shirt.

Still, it's a fine line these days.

If this is Dusty Springfield,
I'm looking for Joe Colman.

Might I ask if you're a relative?

Mm-hm. His son.

The son that works
for the Health Minister?

No. Just the one
who works in his department.

I'm an independent management consultant.

Hmm. Nevertheless,
he's told us all about you.

Your chauffeur-driven car,
your bank holiday at Chequers.

That was purely social.

Right, well, I shall escort you
to the office.

I'll come back and take Molly
to the lavatory. Stay here.

Right, come on.

Mrs Maudsley?

Blanche?

I need to examine your eyes, Blanche.

Just to rule out any anaemia.

It was my house.

They took it from me.

How is her appetite?

She eats like a navvy.

I have her on a full low-fat diet

ever since she was diagnosed
with gallstones.

Mine.

They're no better than thieves!

Is she usually confused?

No. I mean, catch her on a good day,

she's... she's bright as a button.

She might benefit
from some of the activities

we have in the day room.

Singing, for example.

I'm sorry.

Is this a hospital,
or is it Butlin's bandstand?

She doesn't want entertaining.

I'm telling you now,

you do not want her entertaining you.

Pudsey Nightingale.

Mitchell!

Do you know?
You've a lovely manner with her.

I like old people.

Rubbish. Even old people
don't like old people.

So, what's the survival rate?

Survival rate?

Your mother is 92.

Well, yes, I know,
but we wouldn't want to lose her.

Erm... Er...

Yet.

Look,

she's ill.

You're a hospital.

Cure her!

I'm afraid there's no cure,
as such, for old age, sir.

We can't offer long-term care.

It's a bloody good job she's so far gone.

She'd want to know
what she paid her stamp for

for all those years.

-Are you rolling?
-Rolling.

Sir, can I ask you your name,
and what you did in life?

My name is Ambrose Hammersley.

In life, as you put it,
I was a schoolmaster.

Now I'm in a wheelchair
due to osteo-arthritis

and the regulation issue fall.

I've got osteo-arthritis too.

Yes, I... I push his chair sometimes.

We've a lot in common.

Take no notice of this lady.
She's confused.

-We're engaged.
-Oh, bugger off.

Oh, language!

What... Don't you "language" me.

I taught language.

Fratch, fratch, fratch.

Can't we show a bit more support
to these nice young gentlemen?

Er, Lucille, tell them about your life.

Well,

I was a housewife.

And I brought up a son.

Who emigrated to Australia.

That's an achievement in itself.

Also, my father had a chain
of confectioners shops.

Oh! Did he do vanilla slices?

I don't recall.

Oh, can't be much of a confectioner

if he didn't do vanilla slices.

I had a wild side.

But nobody has ever
interviewed me about it.

I think you should talk to Neville next.

Tell us about yourself, Neville.

Even just tell us why you're in The Beth.

Because I old.

Well, we're all old.

What's the matter with you besides?

Did you have a fall?

Not everybody falls, Mavis.

I'm here because of my dizzy dos.

By rights, I ought
to be a private patient.

Oh. What does that matter?

Dead, we're all on a slab
in our birthday suits.

I used to work in a factory.

I had 10 men under me.

So did I on a good day.

Am I still here?

We haven't sent you back to The Rowans,

if that's what you mean.

The Rowans is a shithole.

Your son's come.

Hello, Dad.

I'm not your dad.

You my son?

My son wears a suit.

He doesn't recognise me.

Well, they can be like that
when they've got an infection.

There again,
perhaps he hasn't seen you in a while.

You're nice and dry.

I'm always nice and dry.

It's my party piece.

Well, you're not that far gone, then.

I tell people you're...

you're chauffeur driven.

Jesus, Dad.

Your chest sounds like wet gravel.

What would you know about wet gravel?

You never went down the pit.

No,

Mam didn't want me to.

I didn't want you coming here in a pink

singlet, looking like a Nancy.
But you did.

It's not that
I was a naughty girl.

You do understand, I'm sure.

Those amongst you who have lived.

Anyway, erm...

-Mary.
-Oh, shh, shh.

What's the matter?

Haven't they asked you to join in?

I don't want to join in.

I don't have a lot to say.

Comes from working in a library.

You know, I have a passion for books, too.

Oh, I didn't have a passion
for books.

I just worked with them,
I kept them in order.

With books, that's all that's required.

They're not like people.

I can still go in and introduce you.

The men from the television

would like to hear about your past career.

No, if you push yourself forward,
you get seen.

I thought,
as you were standing by the door...

I'm not standing by the door.

I've seen people standing by the door.

They're either trying to escape,
or they're waiting for their mothers.

Oh, I never stand by a door.
I make a point of it.

Anyway, I went on
to marry three times,

although I didn't enjoy
any of those marriages,

not really.

Have you brought me owt?

No.

Not even a grape?

I couldn't think of what you'd want.

A clean vest.

When I was in once before,

that's what your mam used to bring.

And grapes.

She was a good 'un.

Yeah, she was.

Until she put me in The Rowans.

No, Dad. I put you in The Rowans.

It's nowt to boast about.

Well, you're forgetting, Dad.

After Mam died,
you couldn't look after yourself.

Or else you wouldn't.

You didn't wash. You didn't eat.

Used to wander the streets.

I had the Miners' Benevolent
calling me up in London.

I used to wander the streets?

You were the one
who used to wander the sodding streets.

Didn't get you put in a home.

Should have got you arrested.

It's what killed your mam.

Er...

Pills and potions to pop down 'em.

-Mm-hm.
-Then I'm off.

I don't know how you do it, Alma.

Chopping and changing

your earlies with your night shifts.

I can't leave the cat
for a 12-hour stretch.

I like being here both ends of the day.

They're our most important times.

You didn't write up that Mary Moss

had an episode of incontinence.

I asked you to.

I'm sorry.

I were hoping it were a one-off.

It was certainly her first offence.

Urine or faeces?

Urine.

With a little bit of faeces.

Hmm. Well, I need to be
fully aware of these things.

I run a clean ward.

And a clean ward starts with a dry one.

I'm sorry. She cried.

When they're like that,
they're just like babies.

Babies don't cry
when they mess themselves.

Babies don't care.

When old people don't care, do you cry?

No.

I think of them
running home from school.

I think of them smiling
for their wedding photographs.

From the cradle to the grave...

...we have been the net
that holds them all.

The playground falls,
the industrial injuries,

their traffic accidents,
and their cancers.

Even now, we fight the tide
on their behalf.

They open their mouths
like birds, or children.

They ask no questions about the dose.

They do not query the side effects.

We have promised them sleep,

or peace of mind, or ease from pain.

All the things they once
enjoyed without a thought,

simply because they were not old.

And they believe us.

That is our blessing.

And if we should fail them,

- it becomes their curse.

It was my house.

She was
in show business, apparently.

You'd think she'd be more refined.

Do you know? I sometimes think
this is my favourite time of the day.

With you all tucked up and tidy,

lathered in talcum.

When everyone's asleep,

you can hear the wind
on the moors from here.

Did we have mince today?

Turkey mince, aye.

Keeps rifting up.

Feel a bit wanny.

I'll fetch you some
peppermint water and a bowl.

I'll be back, Molly.

Hello, stranger.

It's only been a day, George.

Hotel okay?

Er, yeah, it's nice.

They've put me in the wedding suite,

which is, er, novel.

How's your dad?

Er, I've no idea how he is.

Half dead, but keeps forgetting.

I don't know what's good or bad
once they get to this age.

Or how much he's putting it on.

-And how's the hospital?
-Oh...

It's like him.

Half dead, but keeps forgetting.

You will give your dad my love, won't you?

Yeah, of course.

He never knew what the hell
to do with mine.

Excuse me, mate.
Are those grapes?

-Yes.
-Get them in shot, the grapes.

Hi, mate. Do you mind coming in again

and holding the grapes a bit higher?

It's just we need
a shot of visitors coming in,

and the grapes look really good.

What do you need a shot
of visitors arriving for?

I'm sorry. Abdul, Pennine People.

We're making a short documentary...

-Mr Colman?
-Yeah.

Apologies for my tardiness

in offering you a personal welcome.

I've arranged for coffee
to be served in the boardroom.

So, a news and documentary
segment for Pennine People

on the Save The Beth campaign.

Well, I'll have to inform the Minister.

Well, we are out to raise awareness.

And they're lapping it up locally.

This hospital isn't funded locally.

Well, we are in control of our own money.

Where do you get that money from?

Spiritually? Aneurin Bevan, circa 1947.

And fiscally, Whitehall, circa now.

Until we say stop.

No, people aren't gonna let you say stop.

You've been dismembering
this hospital for years,

limb by separately amputated limb.

They have to go to Doncaster
for cataracts now.

And Pontefract for audiology.
And that's a complicated bus.

People voted this government in.

They can skydive out of
as many planes as they like.

They chose this. They chose efficiency.

They chose centres of excellence.

The Beth delivers neither.

We could be a centre
of excellence for geriatrics.

But you're trying to shut us down.

Effective management is target focused,
outcome driven.

You set a goal, and you go for it.

Geriatrics is a waiting game.

It's ungovernable, open-ended,
resource-intensive.

It makes zero economic sense.

I disagree.

The future is old age.

Everybody knows that.

The people running raffles
in the foyer know that.

They want The Beth.

They want small-scale, local, caring care.

They want something that's over.

Gone.

Because it didn't work.

And if they keep dragging us backwards,

there will be no progress.

What do you think
is the most important thing in The Beth?

--The patients

and the coffee machine.

Yeah, definitely the coffee machine.

Non-slip flooring.

As a physio, I just don't really think
you can put a price on that,

if I'm completely honest.

Oh, well, the most important thing isn't,

er, isn't really a thing, is it? It's a...

It's a spirit. An essence. It's, er...

Maybe if you try
to say that in just one word.

Erm...

Pluck.

The grub.

A lovely big bath, with handles.

The volunteers.

-Are we allowed to say that?

In one word?

The exit.

Although, if we're being punctilious,
that's two.

-I like him.

The smell.

Or, to be more precise, the lack of one.

Dr Valentine.

Yes, Mary?

I wasn't entirely transparent

when we had our discourse about passion.

There was something
about books that excited me.

Marginalia.

Marginalia?

The things that readers write
at the edges of the page.

They make little notes
about things that strike them.

Words that have meaning, or weight.

Sometimes a cross is deemed
sufficient to mark the spot,

but not always.

I was supposed to rub them out
if they were in pencil.

But sometimes, I left them.

They might be there still.

That is rather a nice thought.

Hmm. Might be a wicked one,
for all you know.

There are too many Marys.

Pushed to the margins,
not part of the story,

doomed to be rubbed out,
to leave no trace.

I want them to matter.

I want them to get the best from us.

For us to deliver what we promise.

What they need.

And every day,

I fear that we are failing.

I don't think Sister Gilpin
is gonna like this at all.

The bonbons are bordering
on the froufrou.

And she's got extremely hard hands.

Well, I think
she's going to love everything.

The banners, the balloons,
the cake, and the singing.

The Beth has been her life.

She's done nothing whatsoever
to deserve the singing.

Well, I don't sing for her anyway.

I sing for you.

And I've done absolutely
nothing to deserve it either.

Well, you wouldn't say that
if I was Dorothy Squires.

I'd say that if you were
Kiri Te fucking Kanawa!

That's terrible!

Well, it's a tmesis.

Sounds all right in his accent.

What is a tmesis, Ambrose?

Er, it's a grammatical construction.

"Abso-fucking-lutely"
would be another example.

You're not to put that on your film.

Come and do a close-up of the handicrafts.

-Ambrose, would, erm...
-Hmm.

..."fish 'n' chips" and "rock 'n' roll"

also be examples of this grammar?

No, they would be examples of an enclitic.

-A shortened version of "and".
-Mm-hm.

And the other is tmesis?

Tmesis, yes.

Are you studying for an examination?

It's, er, an interview.

I have applied for UK nationality.

-And English is like medicine.
-Ah.

There is always something new to learn.

I hope they're seedless.

Pips get stuck underneath me plate.

Hello, Dad.

Did you sleep well?

I kept having to ring
the buzzer for the lav.

But I'm in the Sister's good books,

because I sing out. Yeah.

Urination's a religion with her.

Oh.

You do look better.

It... It's deceptive.

I'm not better enough
to go back to The Rowans.

Did you stay with your Auntie Violet?

No. She's been dead three years.

Well, I... I can't remember everything.

No.

I stayed at a new hotel.

York House.

That...

used to be a bank.

I remember that.

I've just found this

underneath my mother's bedspread.

We have discussed the fact
that your mother is incontinent.

It's Angel Delight.

Butterscotch, by the looks of it.

Complete with spoon.

Now when my mother
starts squirrelling away food,

it means she's upset.

And what I want to know
is why is she upset?

Possibly because she's incontinent,

and confused, and has gallstones.

No, she's upset because you've put her

in a geriatric ward, that's why!

Every patient on my ward

is much the same age as your mother.

And as it happens, we've several younger.

Well, they obviously haven't
looked after themselves.

Or been looked after
by somebody who cares.

We care.

Constantly.

No, I've no news on beds.

This is the middle of a working day.

A whole camera, hidden inside there?

Yeah, you can take
still pictures, or a video.

And, as I've explained,

then the filmmakers might use your footage

in their documentary.

It's no thicker than a monthly periodical.

Has it got a mouse?

You don't need a mouse, Mary.

Everything is operated
via the touch screen.

Now, swipe on the icon,
like we did before.

With greater gentleness
as though you've seen

a speck of dust and wish to brush it away.

- Oh.
- Ah!

You'll put us all out of a job.

I said that to my computer

the day they digitalised the library.

I was at the forefront of modernisation.

What... What do you wish me to record?

Well, the filmmakers say

they simply want your point of view.

For you to record what you see,

to tell them what your life is like.

I could tell you something
about that chair.

Only I won't.

Come here.

You caught me red-handed.

Two hours to turn around
before my night shift,

tucking into sweet and sour pork.

Shocking.

Oh, why shouldn't you treat yourself?

Mine is a deep fried tofu
in black bean sauce.

- Ooh.
- Hmm.

Do you know, I get
substantial discount over there.

I saw their granddad through
a rather nasty gastric cancer.

Oh. How... How did he do?

Deceased. Yeah.

Well, he was lucky we found him a bed.

I mean, at his age, he'd either
choke on his own blood at The Royal

or be bussed off to some council home

where they've no knack with the morphine.

-Hmm.
-Hmm.

I mean, all these managers,

all they ever think about
is movement, isn't it?

Like the hospital system
is just some giant bowel

that has to keep pumping out shit.

-But it isn't, is it, Dr Val?
-Hmm.

It's about getting the patient
to the right place, at the right time.

And to the best,

most appropriate bed that can be found.

Don't talk to me about beds.

I deal in beds the way some other folk

deal in used hatchbacks.

-Well, I dream about beds.
-Ah.

Yeah, sometimes they're just
beds that I want to lie in

and go to sleep for days,

but mostly, they are for other people.

For people who need them,
to be healed in, or to die.

Hmm.

-Empty?
-Oh, they're always empty

'cause I am dreaming.

Dr Val, can I share a worry with you?

Most certainly. Yeah.

It's about my speech, you know,
for the medal presentation.

I don't know what to put.
I don't know what to say.

I'm a woman of deeds,
not a woman of words.

Well, I would advise you
to speak from the heart.

Oh.

All I can think of to say is,

"Don't leave it too late to die."

All right, twat face?

How is it going?

Yeah. Dad will pull through.

The hospital won't.

Although I'm struggling
to convince the Chair of that.

Hmm, that's not like you.

I tried.
But he got the best cups out.

And something
about the place is working.

Must be, otherwise my dad

wouldn't have developed a pantomime cough

out of terror they'll discharge him.

Yet there are less beds than ever,

and money is still swirling down the pan.

You sound tired.

Yes, George.

I am tired. Bloody tired.

I love you.

I know you do.

There are other responses.

All right.

You too, you too.

I may well have
24 beds under my jurisdiction,

and every single one of them is occupied.

It's carnage incarnate down The Royal,

and now at the Infirmary.

Begging for beds again?

Hmm, they're failing to hit
their targets, apparently.

Oh, I'll have to give
Snowdrop Court a ring again,

see if we can move somebody there.

Or throw myself on the mercy
of Green Lawns.

Green Lawns? Is it that bad?

I need a black coffee. Two sugars.

What's on the trolley?

You got any cigs?

I've got large-print books.

It's no smoking in here.

Live a little.

I'm on work experience.

And I've been assigned
to wheel you to the shower later.

They'd have had you down a coal mine once.

Have you had sexual intercourse yet?

Yeah, loads of times.

What do you reckon to it?

It's all right.

Do you want to feel my feet?

It wouldn't be top of my list.

Not in a mucky way. In a medical way.

They keep swelling up.

Oh, well, they look all right from here.

Improvement is not in my best interest.

It's Mr Colman, isn't it?

May I join you?

Yeah.

I was with your father earlier.

He's very proud of you.

That's news to me.

That's fathers.

Mr Colman, may I show you something?

They closed this ward six months ago.

Closure was financially appropriate.

Look at this.

Tell me what you see.

A bed.

It's a way out of A & E
when somebody has fallen.

It comes with oxygen,

with intravenous pain relief
for broken bones.

It comes equipped with hoists,
with air flow mattresses,

a hook for catheters,
a bell to summon help.

It carries on its shoulders
care assistants, porters, nurses,

anaesthetists, junior doctors,
housemen, a consultant.

And stretching ahead

are all the possibilities
recovery entails.

Such as?

Occupational therapists and dieticians.

Physios and phlebotomists.
District nurses.

When somebody gets a bed,

they get so much more
than a piece of furniture.

They get everything we are.

Well, if you put it that way.

But at what cost?

The cost is not exorbitant.
The cost is nothing.

Money isn't exactly your strong suit,

is it, Dr Valentine?

It isn't the thing I think of first.

What you up to, Joe?

Trying to get these the right way round.

I was, er,

a banksman at the pit.

I'd give the men their tally
afore they went down,

and they'd hand them back
when they came up safe.

I remember them as much

by their numbers as by their names.

Joe, love.

Dr Valentine thinks it might be better
if we took your wedding ring off.

Better for who?

Well, you.

Your fingers keep puffing up

because your circulation's not behaving.

I'm...

I'm on tablets for that.

Yeah, and if they work,
you can have your ring back.

I'll just need to nip it in half

with a little pair of pliers.

You bloody don't!

Stopping where it is.
Where it's always been.

I have never, ever taken it off. Never.

It's for the good of your health, Joe.

You can sod off with your sodding pliers.

Leave me be.

All right.

Shower time.

Jesus wept.

Right, first,
I'm gonna take your trousers off.

I bet you've said that a few times.

I've got no interest in your penis.

You're not in any danger.

These days, it's swelling

the ranks of the unemployed.

Oh, sorry. I'm just looking for my father.

He has no interest in my penis either.

Nobody told me
Joan Collins was a bathroom.

Sister Face Ache says
you're to go back in,

sit in a corner and make small talk

because nobody likes to feel

they cause revulsion in a loved one.

It's not revulsion. It's pity.

Is that better?

He's back.

You're gonna mark the floor
with those shoes.

And I'm not having anyone
saying it was me.

I don't leave marks. I'm a very clean man.

And you'll be all the cleaner
when I've finished with you.

Are you suggesting I do it in my trousers?

Because I never do.

I always sing out when I need to go.

- You're a model.
- Yes.

Otherwise
you'd be on me blacklist.

Now...

Now, is that better?

I smell better.

So, what do you say?

We don't say anything. It's your job.

Dad!

Oh, it speaks.

His feet look swollen.

That's inactivity.

We've a remedy for that.

Right, stop there.

Right, let's get you vertical.

Eh?

He can't stand up.
Dad, you know you can't.

Come towards me.

You're pushing on an open door
with a bossa nova.

You know, sometimes,
even when people can't walk,

they can dance.

We presume it's the music.

Unlocking some long-lost
pattern in the brain.

Wait...

Wait till I tell
Gorgeous Gerald about this.

That's it.

Slow. Quick, quick, slow.

Hey,

you're champion at this, you are.

Well, not an actual champion.

I was an actual champion, with his mam.

We won a cup once

at a holiday camp in Filey.

- Ooh!
- It was Scarborough.

Can you dance too?

No.

- He sings.
- I used to.

You had the voice of an angel.

All right. Come on.

Hang on a minute.

There we go.

Go on...

...sing.

I can't remember any songs.

Give us Blow the Wind Southerly.

Bring the house down.

No.

Well, that's your
entertainment over and out

because I've finished
performing for one day.

And I need the lav.

Come on.

And it was Filey.

Scarborough.

Mavis, do you remember eyebrows?

Vaguely.

Where do you suppose they go?

They take up residence inside men's ears.

Oh.

I was sat next to Ambrose
in choir the other day,

and you've never seen so much hair

as he's got down his lughole.

What are you playing at, Mary?

I'm familiarising myself with the iPad.

The young men are keen
to receive my impressions

for their documentary.

I've got carte blanche

as long as I've got something
sensible on my feet.

Signal's best if you go round the kitchen
and stand on the bins.

All right.

No, I was just heading off, actually.

Thanks for what you're doing for my dad.

That doesn't look easy.

I'll be out of here next week.

Huh.

What are you looking at?

It's your bike.

Well, it's a rubbish bike.

Rubbish? No.

I had one just like that once.

You're in my good books today.

A very nice bit of self-directed physio

and some immaculate bladder management.

When...

When was I in your bad book?

Well, you haven't been yet.

That said, I do keep tabs on people.

I had

tabs on people once.

I used to be a tally man down the pit.

Every shift I'd... I'd... I'd...

I'd count the men down and, er,

I'd count them up again.

I had the list.

And the... And the list

could mean the difference between

life and the reverse.

Well, come along.

You've done enough for one day.

Save the past for reminiscence therapy.

What job do you do?

I'm a management consultant.

What, is that computers?

Eh. Yes and no.

They're just a tool.

What's London like?

Better.

Better. Better clubs and all that?

Yeah, better clubs and all that.

Better food. Better weather.
Better prospects.

Worse traffic, but can't have everything.

You should try it.

Go.

Just for a week, a day.

I might.

I did.

Mr Colman?

Nurse Pinkney said you were unhappy
about having your wedding ring removed?

I was unhappy about having it cut off.

A ring is round,

it has no end. If you...

If you cut it off, it's finished.

May I see it?

Your fingers are swollen, Joe.

This will fluctuate,

but my worry is that
should things get worse,

rather than better,
you could be in real pain.

The ring may cut off your blood flow.

It were never that comfy.

I'll soldier on with it.

I brought some grease.

Will you let me try
and remove it that way?

I fell.

I know, love. You fractured your ankle.

It was mine.

It's gonna feel a little bit numb

until the boot comes off.

It was my house.

But we can start you with the physio soon.

You'll like him.
We call him Gorgeous Gerald.

Come on, sweetheart.

Come on. Up we come.

All done.

There.

Oh.

Thank you.

All gone.

Lovely job.

All together, everybody.

Good morning, good morning

We've danced
the whole night through

Good morning,
good morning to you

Lovely.

Deep breaths now.

Now, see if you can move your arms.

Wonderful, Mavis.

Good morning to you

And remember, everyone,
we're being our best selves.

The moon was shining bright

Now the milkman's on his way

It's too late to say goodnight

Lively, Mary. Think sunshine.

Good morning

Sunbeams will soon shine through

Good morning,
good morning to you

Lovely.

Oh.

All she had to do
was stay alive.

All you had to do was keep her that way!

Well, I...
I think you're mistaking my position.

Thanks.

Chairman of the Board is, erm,

well, it's an honorary role.

Alive. For three more months.

I'm... I'm told your mother was,

well, 92.

Yeah. Well,

the Express says that 90 is the new 70.

We want a post mortem.

Oh, er...

Sorry, you said
we could film in here today...

Oh. No, no, no, not just now. No, erm...

Look, you're intruding on...
on private grief.

Actually... Actually,
they can come right in.

There'll be nothing private about my grief

when The Beth's had up in court!

Oh, please, please!

These people are heartbroken!

Oh. Your mother's physician.

Hey, erm...

Dr Valentine will be able
to answer your questions.

It's entirely natural,
upon losing a loved one,

to ask, well, why.

Not "why?"

Why?

Why, after you got your hands on her,

did an old lass in perfectly good nick

suddenly peg out, huh?

Huh?

Well, according to Sister Gilpin,

she had gallstones, you know, and...

and she was, of course, incontinent.

-Oh, God.
-Oh. Well, yeah.

I may not know much about medicine,

but even I know that you
don't die of wet knickers.

Your mother slept through
the ending of her life.

In time, if not today,

you will come to see it as a blessing.

Ha!

Sister Gilpin was at the helm,

and, well, she is one of our finest.

She's about to be awarded
the Bywater Medal.

I don't care if she's about
to be awarded the V-bloody-C!

Oh, sir, tmesis.

Shut up!

We shall be
pushing for an inquiry.

With a... With a view to compensation.

You have lost your mother.

Surely no amount of money
can compensate for that?

It can compensate us for inheritance tax.

She made that house over to us

six years, eight months and 25 days ago.

In three months, it would have been ours.

Boys!

Do you want any? Come on, Dad.

Am I disturbing you, Ambrose?

No. I...

Although I will have
to curtail a conversation

if my visitor arrives.

It's always such a pleasure
to chat with a former student.

Well, I...

I come to you as a student today.

Ah!

I am returning the book of Modern Poetry.

-Uh-huh.
-I enjoyed it very much.

All the help you have given me
with my English

is most appreciated.

Ah, yeah, did you read them aloud,

or just in your head?

I always said to my pupils,

"Verse does not live unless it is spoken."

I did not read them out aloud.

Page 44.

Or, er, possibly 49.

"Ten Types of Hospital Visitor"?

Read the sixth.

The sixth is ideal.

"The sixth visitor says little,

Breathes reassurance,
Smiles securely,

Carries no black passport of grapes

And visa of chocolate..."

"...has a clutch
Of clean washing,

Unobtrusively stows it
In the locker,

Searches out more.

Talks quietly to the Sister

Out of sight, out of earshot,
of the patient,

Arrives punctually as a tide,

Does not stay for the whole hour.

When she has gone

The patient seems to sense her there:

An upholding Presence"

Oh, thank you.

Thank you very much. Thank you.

Now the last verse.

It's very short.

No, Ambrose. I...

"The last visitor

Is not generally named"

It says tenth here.

We...
We both know what it means.

Are you going to move me on?

Not unless we can find
you somewhere better. Okay?

I don't wanna feed the ducks.

Feeding the ducks is for kiddies.

You'll hurt
the volunteers' feelings.

They went out of their way
to find us something for them.

Well, it's only
a bit of stale bread.

All right, then.

How about the sensory garden?

It's for blind people.

This is no way for grown men
to spend their time.

You could always join that choir.

Do you remember the strike, Colin?

Just about.

What made you think of that?

Stale bread.

You'd think it would be
the sound of truncheons on a riot shield,

or voices raised in anger,
that reminded me.

Not bloody stale bread.

Your mam trying to feed us
with nothing in her purse.

Yeah, the strike was a long time ago, Dad.

Nobody's picketing any more.

Nowt to picket.

Do you know what I remember most?

Just how bloody dreary it was.

-Dreary?
-The talk.

Endless, endless talk, all of the time.

Though being egged on to hate
Mrs Thatcher was exciting,

I'll give you that.

Didn't last long with you, though, did it?

Dad, I was a kid.

If you push a kid too far one way,
they do end up going the other.

I didn't push you.

You had me rattling collection tins.

You dragged me to the rallies,
put me on your shoulders.

You made me sing
at Miners' Benefit concerts.

There would be pound notes in the hat

when you sang Blow the Wind Southerly.

Where are you taking me now?

The sensory garden,
before the bloody ducks

die of a Mother's Pride overdose.

I've got to head back soon, Dad.

What, to that bank hotel?

To London.

The Minister needs his hand-holding.

He's not one as well, is he?

No, he's not. It's...

It's a figure of speech, Dad.

There's a threat of a strike.

He's losing his nerve.

Who's fighting for what?

Doctors. For better
work conditions and pay.

There is no more noble cause.

I'm on the other side, Dad.

I forget.

I don't think you do.

Your mam used to say
you had the voice of an angel.

I don't forget that.

Blow the wind southerly

Southerly, southerly

Blow, bonny breeze,
my lover to me

- They told me last night

There were ships in the offing

And I hurried down
to the deep rolling sea

But my eye could not see it

Wherever might be it

The barque that is bearing

My lover to me

Lad.

What?

Just because a thing has gone,

doesn't mean it was never good.

Well, what was never good?

What went before and

won't come back.

The pit.

Your mam.

We've still got our memories, Dad.

Yeah.

Right now, I'd settle for memory itself.

And the lavatory!

Giddy up!

-Get off.
-Dad!

Everybody kisses now.

Not round here, they don't.

It doesn't mean anything.

So why do it?

Bye, Dad.

Son.

Yes?.

When you stopped

wandering the streets,

was it because you found
what you were looking for?

I... I don't know what you mean.

You do.

Wig fella.

The law man.

George.

So I forgot his name.

I don't know.

Still expecting your visitor?

Oh, er, well, he's not been.

That's good, though, isn't it?

The important thing

is always have something
to look forward to.

Oh, I would look forward
to slipping away like Mr Jessop,

or Mrs Maudsley,

but I fear I'm not
going to be so fortunate.

Life has one in its jaws,

and it doesn't give one up
without a struggle.

They... They talk about the jaws of death.

It's not death that has jaws.

It's life.

Now, here comes pain with its gull's beak.

I'll tell Dr Val
your dose needs adjusting.

Are you choking?

No, I'm bursting for a bloody bottle.

There's one there, but I can't reach it.

You've already gone in it.

I know. I need to go again.

Well, I might break the rules
and give it you,

but you have to ask me nicely.

Go on, say "please".

You little sod!

-I'm bloody bursting!
-Aw.

I hope I never live to be your age.

Help.

Help.

Nurse!

What's all this?

I don't care for raised voices on my ward.

It means something's gone awry.

-He's pissed himself.
-Go.

It's always hard the first time.

And you were doing so well.

I sang out.

I did. I sang out.

But nobody would listen.

It was
when an elderly lady came in,

and she was afraid.

So I said to her,

"Everything is going to be all right.

"You're in hospital,

"but you are in The Beth."

I gave birth to my son here.

I got put on the pill here.

They brought me a cup of tea
when somebody died.

I think it was my husband.

Our work
is other people's lives.

I don't quite know
what happens to our own.

What should I do with this?

We eat on the run.

Oh, there'll be a bin somewhere.

It's a beauty spot.

We're always tired.

Sometimes we are lonely.

Come on. I'll race you.

And sometimes, somehow,

we make friends.

You never call me Alma.

Hey, why did you choose nursing?

Oh, I didn't.

Oh, it chose you?

It was my mother led me to it.

She ran a sideline
in caring for the elderly

in the days when the elderly
weren't farmed out.

There'd come a time
when somebody's daughter,

and it was always a daughter,

would sit in my mother's kitchen weeping,

saying, "And now I have
to do everything for them."

Whereupon my mother,
being of a practical bent,

would shoulder that burden

and pocket whatever cash
was offered in exchange.

Money was always persuasive

because there was no Mr Gilpin.

I became her assistant over time.

Washing and wiping.

Learning to say,

"Don't fret, love. It comes to us all."

And then it came to my mother.

How?

Long story.

How?

She were my first patient.
I kept her spotless.

I pretty much did Mother
instead of A-levels.

Maybe that is your speech, Sister.

How life taught you what you had to give.

Well, I'm not convinced
it did, as a matter of fact.

Many's the day I've wondered
what it's all been for.

You must know, in your soul.

Or you could not have stayed
so long, and served so well.

Maybe I just found something
other people couldn't do.

Or wouldn't.

I was good at it.

I even excelled at certain aspects.

It made me necessary.

To the patients?

To The Beth.

You know, I love The Beth.

Love complicates matters.

I see it all the time.

Middle-aged children
with tears in their eyes,

pleading.

"I love them. Oh, I love them. But..."

And I have to bite my tongue.

Because if they love them,
why do they put them away?

Coat on.

Are you not stopping?

Just arrived.

What...

-What are you doing?
-Oh, just checking.

It was a one-off.

When it comes to incontinence,
there are no one-offs.

Only inaugural incidents.

You're on the list now.
And you know about lists.

-We've had the Infirmary on the phone.
-Oh.

Seven trolleys in the corridor.

Oh! I bet they're all falls.

There are a couple of hips.

No hips.

The minute we admit a fractured femur,

we kiss goodbye to that bed
for eight weeks.

-They were pleading.
-Right.

Colin?

My dearest

We will leave Paris forever

Life will be happy

Me there beside you

Sadness will vanish

Now we're together

Our lives will prosper

All will be well

Jesus Christ.

You better be dying.

If I was dying, I...

I wouldn't be phoning you, would I?

Dad... I'm at the opera.

When did you start liking opera?

I don't.

I'm with the Health Secretary.

And before you ask,

no, he doesn't like opera either.

-Dad...
-Colin, I'm on the list.

And lists make the difference
between life and the reverse.

What?

My bladder turned on me. And then she did.

Who did?

She might be listening.

She said she'd put me on the list.

But nobody's got my tally.

All right, Dad,
you're... you're not...

Look, I'll call you in the morning.

I can hear a bit of it.

What, the opera?

You've, er...

You've gone far, Colin.

I'll come and see you soon, yeah?

Good night.

Are you on the prowl again?

I don't prowl, Joe. I patrol.

You ought to be in bed
at this hour, really,

not sitting up.

I have to sit up when I'm in bed.

I can't remember the last time
me chest let me lay down.

I brought you some hot milk,

if you fancy it.

Oh, and a bit of good news.

Oh, aye?

Your infection's cleared up.

You're getting better.

How's that good news?

You can go back to The Rowans
in the morning.

The Rowans is a dustbin.

Who gets my bed here then?

A sick person.

I'm sick.

I'm old.

But your infection's better, Joe.

You're one of my success stories.

I can't tell you
how good it feels, you know,

to wave people off, thinking,

"That's it. They've gone.

And I have done my very best for them."

Oh, come on, now.

I liked it

when we danced.

So did I.

Don't look so sad

I know it's over

But life goes on

And this old world

Will keep on turning

I'll miss you getting your medal.

- Don't say a word
-Mm.

About tomorrow...

Oh, it's all something and nothing.

Just hoo-ha, really.

That said, I will be getting
a blow dry in the morning.

And I'll be back in The Rowans

staring at four walls.

You will be missed, Joe.

I miss people all the time.

You get over it.

I'll get along

You'll find another

Oh, your milk's cold now.

Would you take the lid off it?

I... I don't drink out of beakers.

Here you go.

I don't know whether I want it or...

or I don't.

Well...

It's there if you do.

Hmm.

Good night.

God bless.

Yeah, bit lower.
Just... Just there.

Yeah, that's right. That's good.

-That's it?
-Yeah.

And the other side.

And... And the same height.

They... They have to be the same height.

They're not the same height.

Will you sign my form?

You haven't done anything yet.

And I understand you've extra duties
lined up this morning,

at the do.

Will you please sign it?

I mean, Sister Gilpin
keeps ticking "poor".

I'm better than poor.

She should be ticking "average".

You asked me
to cast my eye over The Beth.

I did.

And I saw things I didn't expect.

It's loved.

It's believed in.

And it does its best.

And I know none of those things

fit into any of your policies,

or even my strategic advice.

Your strategic advice was to shut it down.

Yeah, I know it was. But...

It's not what people want.

Three days up North
and he's preaching democracy.

Yeah, I was up North
for a lot longer than three days.

You offered it up

as a guiding principle of management.

Success doesn't like small.

Small's expensive.
Small's a poor investment.

Small lacks scope.

Yeah, but nothing about the NHS is small.

Everything connects.

Every single bed links through to someone,

or something that's part of an entity

so much bigger,
we can scarcely comprehend it.

An entity which will soon be gone.

Yeah, yeah... But that doesn't mean

it was never any good!

The NHS was the biggest idea
this country has ever had.

And you will dismantle it at your peril,

because people will not forget.

-Where are you going?
-Oh, I'm going back to The Beth.

But in a private capacity.

Aw.

Oh, Mary.

I was watching a video of my nieces.

Do you want to see it?

Presently, perhaps.

But first, I want to show you this.

Oh, no, you don't have to show me
what you've been filming.

You just give it to the filmmakers.

I fear they are not familiar
with the concept of marginalia.

The importance of things
recorded at the edges.

Morning.

Look what I've brought.

All gone.

Lovely job.

Would you take the lid off it?

I... I don't drink out of beakers.

Here you go.

Have I acted appropriately?

Dr Valentine.

We're having trouble waking Joe Colman.

Yes, you have.

What do you mean, he died in his sleep?

Mr Colman,
when you get to us...

No. All right. Listen to me.

You leave my father
exactly where he is. Okay?

I... I... I don't want him touched,

and I don't want him moved.

I was... I was already on my way!

Mr Colman, when you get to us...

When I get to you, I've got questions!

And I... I want them answered!

Ah! I finished
my speech at the salon

as the rollers were coming out.

I suddenly knew exactly what to say.

Greeting the Mayor, hmm?

All gone.

Lovely job.

It's a geriatric ward.

Death is in the scheme of things.

Beakers of milk and morphine

aren't in the scheme of things.

Joe Colman drank his of his own accord.

Mrs Maudsley couldn't do
anything of her own accord.

Well...

I always helped them
if they were that far gone.

Always?

How many were there, Alma?

How many, Alma?

I had targets to meet.

Beds to find.

Folk to make grateful.

If you could have seen even one of them,

just one of them.

The way they relaxed.

The way their faces softened.

All the pain and confusion gone.

In a single moment,

I'd accomplished something
no administrator ever could,

and no doctor either.

Not even you.

The Beth had fulfilled
its obligation to the system,

and I had ended someone's suffering.

I used to think
you were so good with them.

I was good.

But you were lovely.

Lights, camera, action.
The Mayor's taken her seat.

The Bywater Medal was established in 1930.

I like to think

that the first nurses who won it, and I,

have something in common.

Just as we have with Florence Nightingale,

who founded our profession.

You'd take one look at all of us

and think we were old-fashioned.

We do the things
that have had to be done,

since time immemorial.

Since the world was young.

I have done what they did.

I have sought to be efficient.

I tended the sick.

I consoled the afflicted.

I comforted the dying.

I have cared.

Oh, Lady Mayoress...

Forget your troubles
Come on, get happy

We're gonna chase
all your cares away

Sing allelujah
Come on, get happy

Get ready
for the Judgement Day

It's all so peaceful

On the other side

Forget your troubles
Come on, get happy

We're gonna chase
all your cares away

Sing allelujah
Come on, get happy

Get ready for the Judgement Day

Get ready

Get ready

Get ready

For the Judgement Day

Allelujah!

It's all right.

It's all right.

He was meant to be getting better.

But he was terrified.

I wanna know who was he terrified of,

and why?

We find ourselves
obliged to, er,

apprise you of

some developments.

In the back, please.

Mary's film
was shown in court.

Sister Gilpin was jailed for life.

The Beth closed down.

Our patients were dispersed.

And I went to work at another hospital.

The Beth did not die.

It was always just a bricks and mortar box

for the things that mattered.

I can take a look, thank you.

And they matter still.

They pulse on through the system
like blood.

Care without question,
cost without counting.

Belief in beds
without boundaries or limits,

in spite of pandemics.

I will always love the old.

I will love them for as long
as they are here to be loved,

to be nursed, to be encouraged.

The virus, meanwhile,

shows no mercy.

Ambrose?

Do you remember me?

No air.

I know, my friend.
We are gonna help with that.

Not generally named.

Who is not generally named?

Last visitor.

We can
make unforgivable mistakes.

Yes, we are stretched.

Yes, we stumble.

Yes, our reach exceeds our grasp.

But please don't make the perfect
the enemy of the good.

Don't dismiss us for what we cannot do.

Don't tear us down

and use our rubble
to rebuild your other empires.

Profit will not profit you.

We may buckle, but we do not waver.

We are tested, but we do not flinch.

We are here when night falls,

here when darkness eases into dawn.

We are here for your first cry,

for your last breath,

when you are broken, when you bleed,

when others recoil or reject you.

We will be here when you're old.

And we would die for you.

We are love itself.

And for love, there is no charge.