All language subtitles for Call The Midwife - 08x06 - Episode 6.

In 1964, every East End family

had its connection to the wharfs.

People belonged to the river,
and the river belonged to them.

Watch out, son!

And the Thames flowed on,
like time itself,

bringing growth
and change and challenge.

- Here, Dad.
- Nurse Franklin.

Hello, Mr Brittall.

The hospital let me dad
come home last night.

Oh, I am pleased. It's so much
better that he's with his family.

This isn't a social club, Barnie!

I expect I'll be seeing you soon.

That's it!

I think I should
just try this blazer on.

- Tim!
- Oh, sorry.

Just for that,
you can be in the picture, too.

All together now.

Big smiles and...

I've moved you to the
maternity home

in my place, Miss Anderson.

It'll mean a few extra calls
for Sister Frances,

but I think she's ready.

And she's got young legs.

We'll manage, Phyllis,
please don't worry.

This seems a lot worse
than last time.

I think I should call an ambulance.

No, no, it's just lumbago.

Yes, hospital is best avoided.

Nurse Crane, you are
clearly in a lot of pain,

and I am going to call an ambulance.

I shan't fight you.

Two, three...

Whatever's happened?
What's wrong with Phyllis?

Oh, her back's gone again.

We had to give her gas
to get her in the chair.

Emergency - Ward 10.

Sister Monica Joan isn't a fan,

but there are some
rather handsome doctors in it.

Budge up, then.

Nurse Crane's diagnosis
has been confirmed

as a trapped sciatic nerve.
Oh, poor lamb.

That's going to mean beastly
old traction, isn't it?

Yes, it is.

And I've been advised
that she won't be back to work

for at least six weeks.

Pity the doctor that
had to tell her that.

Quite.

Fortunately, Mother Mildred has
promised to send one of the sisters

for the duration of
Nurse Crane's absence.

So, hopefully, Sister Frances,
we won't have another day

quite as busy as this one.

Oh, I didn't mind.

I wonder who we'll get.

Good morning, Mr Buckle!

Mother Mildred.

Good morning.

We wasn't expecting you.

The Almighty likes
to keep us guessing.

It is why my devotion
to him never stales.

Thank you.

I sat at supper in the refectory
and cast my gaze from one end

of the table to the other,
musing prayerfully upon

the question, whom might I bequeath?

Vigour is required.

Expertise is required.

Compassion is required.

And thus, I decided
that it should be me.

Besides, it's time I learnt
how our mission

in the East End has evolved.

Now, which of you
splendid ladies would like me

to accompany her
on her morning's round?

- Perhaps Sister Frances would...
- I'm too inexperienced.

Indeed.

If, my purpose is to learn,
I require an escort of maturity,

with perhaps
some glamour for ballast?

It hasn't been used a lot,
but I've spruced it up,

oiled it, changed the tyres,
run it round the block,

and I reckon this is just the ticket
for you, Mother Mildred.

Oh, the bicycle.

Curse of the short of limb.

Never fear, Mr Buckle,
the Lord will provide.

I see you have your van close by.

How very fortuitous.

I'm Into Something Good
by Herman's Hermits

- Don't dawdle.
- Coming!

Oh, good, we want the second floor,
I believe.

Mother Mildred, I am a
fully qualified keep fit instructor,

but even I am struggling to keep up
with an internal combustion engine.

A moment, please.

Of course, Nurse Franklin,
I do apologise.

Anyway, erm...

Brittall, Joseph, Mr.

End-stage pneumoconiosis.
Poor chap.

Very common among the
retired dockers, I'm afraid.

It's the dust in the warehouses.

Well, we must give poor Mr Brittall
and his family what comfort we can.

On we go.

Come along, Miss Crane,
let's be sensible.

Might be storing up problems
if you don't.

I am a State Registered Nurse
and a State Certified Midwife,

therefore perfectly well aware
of what I may or may not

be storing up, Sister.

I shall let you know
when assistance is required.

Thank you.

Oh, actually, Sister,
when you have a moment...

..might I trouble you for
the use of the telephone?

Well done, Mr Brittall.

Not the most dignified
of positions, I know,

but it gets the circulation
going again.

Ain't much dignified
in this dying business.

I've seen many a patient
gasp their way

to the finish line without oxygen.

To be able to provide it in the
home seems almost miraculous.

Mrs Brittall.

It's clear your father-in-law's
in magnificent hands,

I commend you.

We're just glad to have him home.

It's the hungry hordes already.

Fags out, Grandad's on his tank.

I'm telling you, one of them's
going to blow us all up

one of these days.

You all right, Dad?

What's that for?

Fell off a crate.

Thought it would cheer you up.

We will, see you all anon.

We'll be back at the same time
tomorrow, but do telephone

if you have any worries at all.

Oi.

Hello, Grandad,
you're looking a bit better.

I think it's better not
to enquire into the provenance

- of that pineapple.
- Nurse.

He wants to ask you something.
Go on.

I've got this thing on me neck.

It was just a little nick,
but now it's...

I mean, it's likely nothing.
She wanted me to ask.

Oh, yes, infected.

It's probably environmental.

I've seen a lot of that sort of
thing in the Kowloon slums.

I beg your pardon?

You aren't in Kowloon now,
and my house isn't a slum!

I'm quite sure Mother Mildred
wasn't implying that.

I ruddy hope not.

If I were you,
I'd make an appointment at the surgery.

Dr Turner might
want to give you some antibiotics.

Or a tin of Vim. Come on.

Perhaps it's the strain
making her oversensitive.

Nurse Crane has asked
for her Spanish textbooks

and the manual on motor maintenance
from the public library.

I have a feeling she's
in need of distraction.

Perhaps our friend Cyril
could oblige with the latter.

And we should let Sergeant Woolf
know that Nurse Crane

won't be at Cubs.

It's sweet the way they always
want to be exactly the same,

right down to the colour
of the biscuit wrappers.

We've been so lucky
with how well they get on.

Shelagh, are you all right?

Oh, I'm just being a bit silly.

We've had the latest letter
from the charity,

and it's good news, really.

Mr Tunnocks is much improved
and should be out of

the sanatorium soon.

So, our next meeting will
be to start planning

May's move to her permanent family.

Come here.

I told you I was being silly
AND selfish.

It's absolutely right that May goes
to the home that was meant for her,

but Angela's going
to miss her so much.

Angela isn't the only one.

No.

Shelagh, if we have
loved that little girl,

then that means we've done
what we set out to do.

I hope so.

I was absolutely mortified.

Poor Mrs Brittall. I think Mother
Mildred was lucky to get out alive.

Lucille, are you all right?
You've looked ever so

- down in the dumps lately.
- Have I?

Only in a delicate, subtle,
scarcely discernible sort of a way

that I can pinpoint to the
exact moment you came home

from your date with Cyril.

I'm not going to talk about Cyril.

- Why not?
- Did something go wrong?

He's not the person
I thought he was.

Firstly, he took me
to the most unsuitable place.

A West Indian social club
where, secondly,

there were several people
smoking marijuana.

Was Cyril one of them?

No, he wasn't.

It would be a bit strange,
him being a pastor.

Yes, it would.

And you know the worst thing?

- He isn't a pastor at all.
- What?!

When I mentioned it,
he looked at me as if

I had been smoking marijuana.

He's hardly been to church
since he left British Guyana.

The whole evening
was a total disaster

and I won't be seeing him again.

I have to go, I'm on night duty.

- Valerie.
- Yeah.

Who said that Cyril was a pastor?

It was Sister Monica Joan
who told...

Oh.

You're up early, Fred Buckle.

Yeah, I thought I'd get in sharp and
take a look at that dicky boiler

before I go off with Mother Mildred.

Are you remembering
about the wholesaler's?

Oh.

Oh, Fred, love,
you said you'd take me up there.

It's three buses.

I can't really say no to
Mother Mildred, can I?

I mean, she's a nun and she needs
to get round to see her patients.

No, I don't suppose you can.

Just... don't let her
take the mickey.

Mr Brittall, it could be
something called erysipelas.

I'm starting you on
antibiotics as a precaution,

but given your occupation,

I want to get you to the hospital
for tests.

Tests? For what?

Well, I'd like to rule out anthrax.

Bloody hell.

Have you been unloading
any animal products recently?

Bonemeal, skins,
anything like that?

I don't know.
We get all sorts from all over.

When I started on the docks,
there was this fella got anthrax.

Flippin' heck, he died, that bloke.

Which is why I want you
to have those tests straight away.

I'm so sorry.

We seem to have turned the room
into a bit of a bomb site.

I accept no apologies
because no apologies are required.

I relish seeing children
enjoy themselves.

And the difference in little May
is quite remarkable.

She's made her mark
on all of us.

They do, you know.

These little, scraps.

They come to us as the wounded ones.

But when they leave us,
it is we who bleed.

Does it hurt you to let go of them?

That would be telling.

And, I do not tell
because my pain is not relevant.

Can I help you?

I'm in labour.

Why don't you come in
and I'll have a look, Mrs...?

Pilkington, and it's Miss.

Why don't you tell me your
first name, and I'll call you that?

It's Elaine.

Lean on me, Elaine.

You've come to the right place.

Ah, Mr Buckle!

Just the gentleman I want.

I require transportation
to the Iris Knight Institute.

I am putting my shoulder
to the mothercraft wheel!

What time do you need to be there,
Mother Mildred?

The instant you can oblige.

Thank you.

This is quite
a strong foundation garment.

Anthrax.

Sends a chill right through you,
doesn't it?

I know this couldn't have come
at a worse time for you all.

One of us will be here
every day for Joe,

and if there's anything else
we can do, please just ask.

You can tell that nun
not to come back for a start.

- Mum!
- No! Ed, I mean it.

I've got your grandad
lying in the back room,

I've got your dad.
I'm up to here, love!

I'm not having someone in my house
who can't even be bothered

- to be polite.
- I don't think she meant to...

Are you going to tell the nurse,
or do I have to do it myself?

Have you had any antenatal care
at all?

No, but I know that
I'm nine months gone.

Your cervix is quite dilated.

That means it's coming, doesn't it?

It certainly does.

Is there any one
you would like me to call?

Your boyfriend, perhaps?

- No.
- What about your parents?

No!

Elaine, precious...

..how old are you?

17.

Hello, love.

According to her medical records,

Miss Pilkington lives
with her parents.

She was adamant that
I shouldn't call them.

No parents, no boyfriend.

She hasn't said a word
about the baby's father.

If her parents don't know
where she is, they'll be worried.

The pregnancy was very well
concealed, Doctor.

They might not even know
that she's expecting.

I've had on nicer outfits.

You look good to me, girl.

A sight for sore eyes.

Gilda...

..you've been the love
of my life, girl.

I want you to know that.

If anything...

What's all this?

If nothing.

You're going to be all right,
Barney Brittall.

I ain't having anything else.

Good girl, keep breathing.

Really, really good.

Now small, slow pushes.

That's it, precious,
you're so near.

Gently now.

Baby's head is just sitting here.

Now we want another push,
just like that.

Slowly, slowly.

Yes!

Yes, I have your
baby's head in my hand.

Oh, well done, Elaine.

You have a beautiful daughter.

Is she all right?

Can I have her? Can I see her?

Of course you can.

My little darling.

I'm never going to let you go,
never.

The very accusation is absurd.

Had Mrs Brittall ever been to
Kowloon, she would know full well

that there could be no comparison!

But she hasn't been to Kowloon,

and she does know
what the word "slum" means!

And whether you intended it or not,
I'm afraid you've caused offence!

And whether you intended to or not,
you have waylaid a religious sister

on the brink of the great silence,

and caused her grave
spiritual inconvenience!

- But I...
- I suggest we conclude this conversation.

Would you like to put Sarah
in the cot while you have

some tea and toast?
Mums need to keep their strength up.

In a minute, maybe.

Elaine?

Sarah isn't your first baby, is she?

You had some stitches last time.

I saw the scar
when I was delivering her.

They took him away from me.

I didn't say goodbye.

They told me they were taking
him to see a doctor.

I never saw him again.

We don't do things, like that here.

I promise you.

But you're going
to need to make a plan.

Your parents don't know
you're here, do they?

I told them I was staying
with a friend, Etta.

Think how worried they'll be when
you don't come back in the morning.

We're going to have
to let them know.

Elaine?

You can let them know.

But make sure they know this too -
I ain't giving Sarah up.

He had a bad night.

Agitated, you know?

Hasn't been able to say much today.

- Any better?
- Yeah.

What are you two doing back?

Our wharf shut down. They've got
to check for more anthrax.

- Seven quid back pay.
- Blimey!

Well, at least
they're taking it seriously.

Do they even know what
they're looking for?

Infected bonemeal from the Lebanon.

They've got the
actual cargo out, but...

..it could've spread anywhere,
so they've got to check.

Is anyone else sick?

Only Dad.

I don't understand, Sissy.

Our Elaine didn't look
any different, did she?

I mean...

..I thought she'd gone
up to a B cup.

But, you know, she's 17!

Sometimes, when a woman really wants
to conceal a pregnancy,

she finds a way, Mrs Pilkington.

Where did we go wrong?

She was a well-brought-up
young lady, Doctor.

Sunday school, church.

We taught her right from wrong.

- I'm sure you did.
- The deception!

Lying to us for a whole nine months.

Well, thank you, Doctor,
for letting us know.

We'll take care of things this end.

I understand Elaine relinquished
a baby when she was 15?

Oh, look, it's all right,
love, come on.

We'll get through this.

We've still got the number
from the agency, don't we?

The thing is, Mr Pilkington,

this time Elaine seems determined
to keep her baby.

Well, unless she has herself
a husband tucked away somewhere,

that just isn't going to happen.

Have you seen these from the Cubs?

I suppose it's the
thought that counts.

Oh! Did the master mechanic
deliver those to our doors?

Such an able young man!

If you mean Cyril,
I'm afraid I can't help you there.

Sister Monica Joan?

Lucille thought...

Well, we all thought,
that Cyril was a pastor.

Oh, but he is.

No, he is not.

So the thing is...

..Lucille doesn't know
if she can trust him.

She doesn't know
if he told a porky...

..or if someone else did.

Oh.

One did not necessarily mean
pastor in the literal sense.

To operate solely on the plane of
the literal would be tedious

and would blind one
to a greater truth.

What I meant,
my dear Nurse Anderson,

is that I had looked into his eyes
and seen the soul of a pastor,

which is far more important.

So, Cyril didn't lie to me?

These might make hospital teas
a little more palatable

for Nurse Crane.
Nurse Dyer, your grandmother rang.

Oh! She'll be getting cross
because I haven't been to see her

- for a couple of weeks.
- When you go, she did ask

if you could bring your medical bag.

Oh.

I won't do it.

And how could they even...?

They're supposed to be
the people that love me.

Oh, Elaine, I'm sure they do.

They probably just think that,
in the circumstances...

Sarah wasn't an accident,
Mrs Turner.

I wanted her.

I wanted her so badly!

It was like they ripped out my heart
when they took

away my little boy. And now...

..every time I look at her,
I can feel it beating again.

Could Sarah's father help you?

I don't even know where he lives.

And I know it wasn't about him.

I just wanted a baby!

I'm sorry.

You're probably shocked.

It wasn't like this the first time.

I would have gone to the ends
of the Earth for Benjamin's dad,

even though he didn't want
to know about the baby.

No-one did.

And now he's out there
somewhere, growing up,

- thinking I didn't want him either.
- Oh, Elaine.

I'm sure wherever he is,
he will be loved so much.

You can't know that!

No, of course not, it's just...

I'm not sure if this
will help, but...

..we adopted our daughter
and we love her with every fibre

of our being.

You're right.

That doesn't help me.

No, I'm sorry.

Gran!

Still alive, then?

Yeah, I'm sorry I haven't been around
for a bit, time just runs away...

I'm kidding with you, darling!

Oh.

You always look so smart
in that uniform.

- Want a cup of tea?
- Well, I'll make it.

You sit down, tell me what's wrong.

I can't sit down,
that's the problem.

Like a Whitstable bloody oyster.

Oh!

Oh, Gran!

There's er, someone here
to see you, Mum.

I told Nurse Franklin
I didn't want you here again.

This is your home, Mrs Brittall,
and if you will not admit me,

I will respect that and leave...

the moment I have
offered my apologies.

Mind me floor.
I've not long scrubbed it.

Oh, this is a nasty one, Gran.

That's it.

- I'm just going to bathe it in antiseptic.
- Ta, darling.

It might sting a bit.

Oh! Sorry.

You know, you really should've
gone to the doctor.

I ain't flashing my pins
for no-one.

If any more come up
or this one doesn't heal,

you have got to promise me
you'll go to the doctor.

How many backsides
do you think he's seen?

I'm telling you,
he won't even notice it.

All doctors think about
are the ill bits.

Do you promise me?

All right. All right.

Oh, no, don't touch them!

It's all the work clothes.

Nurse Franklin told me to boil-wash
them in case there were any spores.

Any infected bloody bonemeal.

Aren't they provided with overalls?

Who by?

The bosses? No!

The men, they wear their own shirts,
their own slacks,

an old suit jacket
that's seen better days.

That's appalling!

Why Barney, eh?

His dad's already dying
because of the job he did.

What have my sons
got coming to get them?

Any news on the new flat?

It's getting to be a bit
of a ghost town round here.

Well, they rehouse
the families first, don't they?

Fair enough, really.

Could be soon, though.

There's only a few of us left.

Don't forget to take your
ice cream money when you go.

I don't need money, Gran!
I've got a job!

Oh, come on!

You and your cousins always
had money for ice cream

on your way home.

You ain't forgotten, have you?

Of course not.

Go on.

Help yourself.
You know where it is.

Take ten shillings.

I will not.
I will take two bob and no more.

You did all right, girl.

Thanks, Gran.

Val?

Don't be a stranger.

Thank you, May.

You can go and play
with your toys, May,

if you're fed up with
the grown-ups talking.

She's come a long way in the time
that she's been here.

It's going to be quite a wrench
for all of us when she goes.

Yes, I'm sure it must be difficult
not to get attached.

Mrs Taylor, we want to do
the very best we can to ease

May into her new family.

Can you recommend
anything that will help?

She's had to cope with so
many changes in her life already,

and she's only four.

Well, I think seeing that
pony in the Tunnocks' paddock

will be of some assistance.

Look, it's best not to make a fuss.

Children are resilient.

And, in the long run, memories of
this age will be very hazy.

Really?

I remember falling out
of my cot when I was two.

Trust me, Dr Turner,
I have done this before.

We're back at barracks,
Mother Mildred.

I've been contemplating
the plight of the two Mr Brittalls.

The dock workers have
no protective clothing

and no knowledge
of the goods they handle.

A couple of years ago,
my cousin's lad

was carrying ammunition.

He didn't have a clue
what it was, until a crate

hit the ground and it went up
like Guy Fawkes.

It was a miracle no-one was killed.

If 50 years in the religious life
have taught me anything,

it's that miracles
are in very short supply.

We had better not rely on them.

The childcare officer
seemed to think

that May won't mind being
handed over like a parcel.

I mean, I know she's
going to a lovely home,

but she's four years old.

She's already lost her mother,
her country, her language.

If we just disappear as well,
how will she understand

that the same thing
won't happen to her new family?

Is there anything
you can do to help?

That's what I was hoping the
childcare officer could help with.

She seemed to think you
could just rub out the past,

which doesn't make
a lot of sense to me,

especially after seeing
Elaine Pilkington.

Trust your instincts, Shelagh.

- You all right, Val?

- You all right, Bill?
- Yeah.

Cor blimey, all right!

Oh.

Good morning, Mr Buckle.

I come as Boadicea,
girded for battle.

Dare I presume my chariot awaits?

Who's that ringing the bell
at this time in the morning?!

It's all right, love, it's for me.

All I know is that the dock has
been closed until further notice.

I'm sorry, lads!

My hands are tied!

The men want to know when,
Mr McGregor.

Well said, Pete.

I don't know when.

Come back and see tomorrow.

I can't say anything else!

Ah! Greetings, Mr Brittall
and Mr Brittall.

- Has something happened?
- No, no, all is well.

I'm hoping to confer
with Mr McGregor.

I think we all are.

Might have to get
in the queue, Sister.

Your members want
to get back to work - so do I.

If you had listened to my members
in the first place...

Good morning, gentlemen.

Good morning, Sister.

Mother.

- Can I help you?
- I hope so.

As you're aware, one of your workers
is gravely ill in hospital

with anthrax poisoning.

Meanwhile, his father is dying
at home of pneumoconiosis.

Both might have been prevented
with proper clothing,

equipment and information.

Have you been talking to him?

Do you advise me to?

Peter Jessop, Dockers' Union.

Shop steward.

Do you have an appointment
with Dr Turner

or are you here
for the maternity home?

Erm, the second one.

Erm, patient name of Pilkington.

Oh, yes, Miss Pilkington.

We're going to try to help you stop
all this nonsense with men.

Put it all behind us, eh?

- Your mother's spoken with the agency...
- No!

No, I told them to tell you
I'm not giving her up.

Don't be silly, love.

Marriage is the place
for babies, Elaine.

You know that.

We've got a business,
decent people as customers.

We can't go waving
this in their faces!

Someone's woken up very hungry.

- Oh, dear!
- Dad!

Can't you just... give her a bottle
somewhere else, Nurse?

Why won't you look at her?

- She's your granddaughter!
- No, she isn't.

She is, Dad!

Her name is Sarah
and she's beautiful.

Please.
I'm not going home without her.

I've had enough of this nonsense.

No-one can say I haven't tried.

No, Mum.
Mum, please don't go.

Mum, I love you. Mum!

- Mummy!
- Oh, precious.

Oh!

Dust really does go straight down
the pipes, doesn't it?

Which is why a lot of our members
have got lungs of wood,

like old Joe Brittall.

Now, sometimes, you can guess
the cargo by how it feels

on your chest, and the fibres
on your clothes.

Have you never asked
for any protective clothing?

We went on strike in '62.

We wanted for overalls
and gloves and masks.

- Nothing.
- Hmm.

And then, this year, we thought we'd
got a bit of victory.

We got these.

A bit of tin and a bit of gauze.

They clog up in 20 minutes flat.

They're useless.

I'm nearly 65.

I wish I was retiring with something
more to show for it than that.

Well, perhaps your legacy will leave
something for the next generation

to build on.

I didn't know nuns were
interested in politics.

Mr Jessop, nuns are interested
in morality.

Elaine, you can't support a baby on
your own with no family around you.

It would be so hard.

There was a girl in a
mother-and-baby home that kept hers.

She got a place in a hostel
and National Assistance.

That is very little money
to get you by.

I've got a good typing speed.

And there's piecework
you can do at home,

envelopes for mail orders and that.

I've had nine months
to think about it, Nurse.

I know it will be hard, but...

..nothing can be as hard
as what I've already done.

Now, there is an
organisation called

the National Council
for the Unmarried Mother.

They might be able to help.

But she's only 17 and totally alone.

She'll spend her whole life
struggling and facing disapproval.

Should we be encouraging her
to do that?

I don't think our encouragement
is here nor there, Nurse Anderson.

Young Elaine only has
two possible roads to go down.

She's choosing the one she can bear.

He used to be such a big man,
just like my dad.

It's a very cruel disease.

Mum's scared for me and our John.

She doesn't want us working down
the docks no more.

What do you want, Ed?

I don't want to leave.

It's hard graft, but you're busy
and you have a laugh.

Good money, too,
when you're working.

You know, it's father to son,
ain't it?

Mmm.

Giving up would be like abandoning
one of our own.

I had this...

..stupid idea that...

Well, instead of leaving,
I'd stand for shop steward

when Peter Jessop retires.

Why is that a stupid idea?

Too young.

- Who'd vote for a 21-year-old?
- Why not?

You're intelligent, forthright, and
when it comes to arguing for

better protection, your experience
gives you moral authority.

I'd vote for you myself,
had life placed me differently.

Do you mind if I join you?

No, please.

I've come to apologise
for calling you a liar.

I'm so sorry.

Sister Monica Joan thinks it counts
if you're a pastor on the inside.

Why would she think...?

Because she likes you,
because she knows I go to church.

Because she knows you're the
kind of woman who does not approve

of smoking marijuana.

That, too.

Well, I'm the kind of man
who does not approve either.

But, you know, there are other
reasons to go to a social club.

I'm in a new country.

I get homesick for the music.

And for not being the only person
in the room who looks like me.

I get homesick for that, too.

It's one of the things
I like about my church.

Is it a friendly place?

A very friendly place.

Maybe one Sunday
you'd like to come along?

Oh, Fred, love, not again.

You've got to ask her for some
petrol money, and they should be

paying you for
all these extra hours.

- Oh, love, it doesn't matter.
- It does, love.

Just because she's a nun,
it doesn't mean to say

that she won't take advantage.

I managed to negotiate
a compassionate temporary discharge

for Barney Brittall
so he can see his father.

Is Joe Brittall very near the end?

Barney, meanwhile,
appears to be giving anthrax

quite the run for its money.

He will recover in due course.

Well, at least that news
will be a comfort to the family.

One would hope so.

Mr Buckle is poised
to transport me to the scene.

If it's Fred you're looking for,
he's at the petrol station,

and whilst he's there,
we need to have a word.

Preferably in your office.

Morning, Miss Higgins.

No. Sir, excuse me,
we're not open yet.

The trouble is, Mother Mildred,
my Fred is a very kind man,

and I wouldn't have him any other
way, but, he's generous to a fault.

He struggles to say no to anyone,
and when it comes to nuns,

he's hopeless.

He's been the most immense
support to me

and my work with the dockers
and their rights.

What about HIS rights?

He has to earn a living, too.

He shouldn't be exploited.

Have I made another
error of judgment?

Nurse Crane usually delivers
a weekly mileage chit

for her petrol expenditure.

Would that be an
acceptable solution?

Well, it gets us halfway there.

I mean, what about his time?

Appropriate recompense
can be arranged.

Hmm.

And no telling him I came round
here, because he'd be mortified.

I'm sorry, Mother Mildred.

I came here to learn
and I'm learning every day.

Well, that's that, I suppose.

I'm so sorry, Elaine.

At least it's got new ribbon.

I'm going to need to make
some of those cards to put in the

shop windows and that.

Then people that need
typing done can contact me.

Once I know where I'm going to be.

Let me see if I can help with that.

How are you doing, Joe, love?

A little water, Mr Brittall.

Keep talking, Mrs Brittall.

The hearing is the last thing to go.

Pete Jessop was asking
for you, Grandad.

Wasn't he, Ed?

Yeah.

Yeah, he said you was the strongest
man on the wharf when he started.

Hang on in there, love.

Barney's coming.

That's him.

Look who's here, Grandad.

Dad's home.

Hello, Dad.

They let me out for good behaviour.

They had a list of
sympathetic landladies

from the
Council of Unmarried Mothers.

I thought this one
sounded about the best.

She's got a space
and she's not too far away.

Miss Higgins says to warn you
it won't be Buckingham Palace,

but it will be much nicer
than a hostel.

She's all right about Sarah?

Yes, she is.

You'll qualify for National
Assistance until she's five,

which should cover the
rent and the bare essentials.

Oh, I don't know what to say.

Thank you so much.

I thought you might try and make me

go back to that
mother-and-baby home.

It's not going to be easy, Elaine.

I know.

But at least you can get started on
these little advertisement cards.

Rest eternal
Grant unto him, oh Lord

And let light perpetual
shine upon him

May he rest in peace

And rise in glory.

If I miss a bit,
are you going to arrest me?

Oh, you're doing well.

Ah!

Could you please give these
to Nurse Crane

with my warmest wishes
for her speedy recovery?

Thank you, Sergeant Woolf,
I'm sure she'll be delighted.

My gift is my presence.

I don't like attending hospitals.

I have only had
one positive experience.

I'm sure Nurse Crane
will appreciate that, too.

Send her my best.

I'm going to go with them so I may
not be here when you finish.

Oh, thank you, Sister.

Sister?

I think you've made a mistake.
I don't think this one's mine.

No mistake, Fred.

Mind how you go.

Tell the boys, mate.

Thank you. Cheers.

I've got enough nominations
to stand.

John wants to help me.

Dad, too.

I won't do it if you say no.

I just wanted something safer
for my sons.

Well, then, I'll make it safer,
for everyone's sons.

Maybe even my own some day.

Oh. How can I stop you doing that,
then, eh?

So, where in the end do we belong?

In the eyes of another,
where we see ourselves reflected?

Or arm in arm, with those
whose faces echo ours,

whose blood we share?

Or is it in the heart
of the family we create,

where we are safest
and best known and never lonely?

Perhaps we belong where
love can bloom,

because we give it room
to put down roots

and space in which to thrive.

Seeds fly in upon the wind
and settle where they will.

We all belong somewhere.

If we're not nurtured as we should
be, we must find a choice to make,

a place to go,

a harbour where the storm
is held at bay.

Sometimes simply belonging
to each other is enough,

and what matters is not to struggle
but where we find our peace.

From tomorrow morning,
your name will be on the call board.

A Brook Advisory Centre
would be a boon to Poplar.

Come my big day...

Ooh, as simple as that.

Run, Miss Packer.

It's my waterworks,
I want to go for a wee.

Synced and corrected by Pindiu
- www.addic7ed.com-