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(INDISTINCT CHATTERING)
It's on!
It's on!
It's on!
(CHILDREN LAUGHING)
(MARKET TRADERS SHOUTING)
BOY: Hurry up, you lot!
(ALL LAUGHING)
(LAUGHING)
MATURE JENNY: My first Christmas in Poplar was unlike any other I had known.
The streets, like all streets, were strung with coloured lights,
and children drew up lists, like children everywhere.
As the days ticked down,
it seemed as though the district was fizzing with delight.
But at Nonnatus House,
a different magic was at work.
The sisters spent Advent in prayer and meditation.
And the atmosphere was not one of excitement,
but of expectant, joyous calm.
I wasn't entirely sure what I should make of it.
I was young, and faith was still a mystery to me.
(PHONE RINGING)
Nonnatus House, midwife speaking.
It's me neighbour. She started having pains.
Name, please?
Hilda Levons, Lisbon Buildings.
You're meant to be sending her down the hospital. She's already crying her eyes out.
-(BABY CRYING) -First one, she was in labour for three days.
I'll come out and assess her. Keep her tucked up and warm till I get there.
(EXASPERATED SIGH)
It's all right, baby. It's all right. Come here.
Mrs Levons was very anxious at the last appointment.
I'll come with you to reassure her,
and then go on to the mastitis case.
Oh, straw for the crib. Well done, Sister Monica Joan.
I availed myself of the kindness of some customers in the market.
(BREATHING HEAVILY) The spirit of the season
would appear to be amongst us.
(BICYCLE BELL RINGS)
(BABY CRYING)
Nurse!
You gotta come quick, Nurse!
Hurry, quickly! She's in here. Come on!
She's through here.
-JULIENNE: Take that. -Follow me. Please, hurry up.
(HILDA SCREAMING)
Hilda, it's all right. The Nonnatans have come.
-You can stop pushing. -I can't stop!
Let me through, please, I'm a midwife.
HILDA: I need to go to the hospital.
I had to have forceps with the last one.
Second stage, Sister.
Don't distress yourself, Hilda. All is well.
(MOANING)
Please, everybody, stand right back so we can assist Mrs Levons.
It might help if you were dispersed elsewhere.
Begging your pardon. This is a communal toilet, and I was in the queue.
Get yourself down the other bloody landing.
-I can't do this on my own! -Yes, you can.
I want you to take nice, steady breaths
in between each contraction, it will help you to feel a lot calmer.
-(INHALING DEEPLY) -Good.
-(BELL RINGING OUTSIDE) -Oh, thank God. Thank God.
Who sent for an ambulance?
It wasn't necessary at all.
If you really want to be of help, you will boil a kettle,
fill some hot water bottles,
fetch clean, dry towels, a basin
and a blanket.
HILDA: I'm going to need forceps again.
Thank you, gentlemen, for your attendance. All is in order for the meanwhile.
All right, Sister.
I want you to inch forward for me, Hilda.
-(MOANING) -That's a good girl. A bit more.
I can't have it here! I haven't had my enema!
The vertex is visible, Sister.
Shall I tell you something, Hilda? You're doing splendidly.
Nurse Lee and I aren't going to leave your side.
Now, on this next contraction, I want you to make as little noise as possible.
I want you to put all that energy inwards as you bear down.
MRS JONES: Hot water bottles are on their way.
Good.
That's wonderful! Well done. Well done.
-Keep going. -JULIENNE: Now on this next contraction,
I think we're going to have the baby's head.
(MOANS LOUDLY)
(GRUNTING)
Really good.
Really good.
JULIENNE: Well done now.
(CRYING)
JULIENNE: Lovely girl, Hilda.
(EXCITED CHATTER)
I can't believe it.
(BABY CRYING)
Can't believe it.
MATURE JENNY: There were days, and deliveries
where I couldn't believe it either.
Birth was and will always be the most commonplace of miracles,
an event at once familiar and phenomenal,
timeless and immediate,
briefly making angels of us all.
(BABIES CRYING)
Over 18 pounds, bravo. About the same size as a turkey.
All the children for vaccinations over this way, please.
And anyone who doesn't line up nicely will be reported to Father Christmas.
Trixie.
And you needn't think I don't know where to find him.
Last year, he left his number in my stocking.
Lynette, take the boys over for their needles.
Mum, don't say needles in front of them, you know they'll kick off.
If they're frightfully brave and well-behaved, they'll get a Jelly Baby afterwards.
But better hurry up, otherwise all the black ones will be gone.
(BABY CRYING)
Watch out!
Come on, mind out me way. I want a star on top of this, not somebody's eyeball.
Season's greetings to you, too.
Do I have to undress him? It's on the nippy side in here.
Down to his napkin if you would, Mrs Duncan.
Hand-knits weigh rather heavy on the scales.
-A Christmas tree! Got it! Stop it! -Get off!
I'll see you at tea time. Better hurry.
(BICYCLE BELL RINGS)
Has a baby been born?
JENNY: Yes, there has. WOMAN: Is it thriving?
-Yes. -Is it?
-Yes. -And the mother?
Is she thriving, too?
Mother and baby are both doing well.
I'm afraid you must let me pass, I'm expected elsewhere.
Both doing well.
Thank God, Nurse.
Thank God.
Hmm. There's a bolt loose somewhere, I reckon.
Or a wire.
Oi, sonny, go and wiggle that plank for me.
The electric always slows down in the cold weather.
That's what you call atmospherics.
Don't tickle it. Clump it one.
We'll be sat in the blooming dark at this rate.
Then how's the reindeers gonna find their way, eh?
Ah. Ow!
(CHILDREN LAUGHING)
You won't be laughing come Cubs' Nativity.
How's Bethlehem gonna look without tree and lights, eh?
What ho, Lynette. Looking for the pamphlet on three-month colic. Oh.
-Something caught your eye? -Not really.
Are you interested in coming into nursing?
You must be finishing school soon.
Easter. Then I start as a filing clerk down at Carson's Wool.
My dad's their warehouse foreman.
Gosh. Nothing like connections.
Must be rather jolly, seeing doors begin to open.
Big, wide world, all of that.
I suppose.
Happy reading.
FRED: Stop mucking about with that plug, there.
No one told you plugs are dangerous?
You'd have had more success pulling her teeth out one by one.
One can't help having a sort of spasm of fellow feeling.
Do you remember what it felt like?
Feels as though you'd never stop growing.
Like Alice in Wonderland when she ate the cake.
Dreading being noticed,
and fearing you aren't visible at all.
Can't say I do.
Never seen anyone so decrepit.
I have to say, I've got a jolly robust nose,
but a meths drinker asked me for small change the other day,
it was all I could do to keep my bran flakes down.
I don't think she was a drinker.
And there was actual mildew on her coat.
-She was asking after the baby, you say? -Yes.
Sounds like someone we used to see a lot of up Stepney boarders.
Used to call her Mrs Jenkins. I don't think that was her real name.
Not quite the full picnic, if you ask me.
But she always knew if a birth was taking place.
Never thought Lisbon Buildings
would have been her stamping ground.
Do you know, I think I saw her the other day.
I'm sorry to say it, but the poor old thing was widdling in the gutter.
Well, that's definitely her, then.
A lot of demolition up Stepney way.
She may have moved her lodgings or lost 'em.
Righty-ho. For the next two hours, I only answer to Akela.
The things you see when you haven't got a gun.
(CHILDREN CHEERING)
(CHILDREN WHOOPING)
(SCOUTING CALL TO ORDER)
(SCOUTING CALL TO ORDER)
Shut up!
Thank you, Jack.
BOY: Stop pushing me.
Neil and Kenneth, we do not need any flags.
We're putting our semaphore to one side this week
and concentrating on our Nativity play.
ALL: Hooray!
Now, as you know, we're going to perform it for our mothers and fathers
on the last Thursday before Christmas.
Everyone taking part will get their entertainer badge,
apart from Timothy Turner,
who'll be getting his musician badge for playing the violin.
Now, calling all shepherds.
Jack, what about you? Aren't you supposed to be a shepherd?
"Oh, what blazing light is this?"
I've grown out of me old dressing gown.
You said we had to have dressing gowns.
(TIMOTHY PLAYING SILENT NIGHT )
Well, why doesn't Gary take your part?
He can be a shepherd, you can play Balthasar.
Can I still have a crook?
-(BLOWS WHISTLE) -Stop it, please.
Timothy.
(TIMOTHY STOPS)
Oh! Donkey's ears.
-(LAUGHTER) -(BRAYING SOUNDS)
Now, the Alice band has already perished,
so I want you to treat those as though they're made of porcelain.
What's porcelain?
BOY: Not him again.
Oh, bravo. Reinforcements.
Excuse my tardiness.
I've been making enquiries about a manger.
(BOYS CHATTERING)
Gosh. Move over Prince Rainier of Monaco.
Do you suppose your mother will run you up a cape?
(CLEARS THROAT)
(CHUMMY CHATTERING BEHIND DOOR)
You all right, there?
Picking my brothers up.
My mum and dad don't like them running around unsupervised.
Good for them, that's what I say.
CHUMMY: Now, in a horseshoe, please.
BOYS: Akela!
-Cubs, do your best. -(DOOR OPENING)
BOYS: We'll do our best.
(MOUTHING) Letter for you from the vicar.
Get into bed, Camilla, and calm down.
Calm down? The vicar's invited the mayor of Poplar to the Nativity.
I know one shouldn't speak ill of a man of the cloth,
but it was bally cowardly of him to put it in a letter.
-It's only a bit of fun. -It was only a bit of fun.
If the mayor's intending to descend,
that's a different kettle of plaice entirely.
I can't just have a few Cubs in their nightwear, and
Tiny Tears in swaddling.
Camilla, why are you getting so upset?
This is our district, Peter, All Saints is our church.
I feel proud of it. I don't want anyone to feel as though we're somehow
lacking.
Into bed now before you get pneumonia off the lino.
(SIGHS)
Whatever happened to nil desperandum, eh?
You forget what you're capable of sometimes.
I know exactly what I'm capable of.
That's the problem.
(CLOCK TICKING)
(BABY CRYING)
Oh...
Oh...
Who's a lovely?
Who's a lovely?
Two little dicky birds sitting on a wall,
One named Peter, one named Paul.
-Fly away, Peter... -Get away from my baby!
-Do you hear me? Get away! -(GLASS SMASHES)
I'd never take him.
I'm not accusing you of taking him, I'm accusing you of touching him.
Mrs Jones, whatever's happening?
It's her, the filthy old crone.
I only nipped in to pick up me orange juice.
-Get off! -Mrs Jones. That's enough.
Now go back in the clinic and ask them to replace your juice.
Nurse Lee, would you clear up this mess?
No one can resist a baby, Mrs Jenkins.
But mothers can be fierce when they think their child is threatened.
-It was only dicky birds. -I know.
Dicky birds.
Just little 'uns.
It's a hard time of year to spend too much time alone.
Can you tell me where you live? I can send someone to look in on you,
to make sure you're being properly taken care of.
She doesn't look well.
Old age, poverty.
Chronic malnourishment and exhaustion, I suppose.
Why doesn't she accept help?
Who knows what brutalities she knew when she was young?
Help then didn't mean what help means now.
Once more unto the breach, and all of that.
It's simply a matter of scaling things up.
I just waylaid Brown Owl at the bus stop, and we're combining forces now.
So there will be eight angels, a female Mary,
a full complement of cattle and a quite sizeable flock of sheep.
Chummy, it's the parish hall, not the London Palladium.
Well, that's sort of attitude will get us nowhere.
(SIGHS)
(TRAIN WHISTLE BLOWING)
-Lynette! -Oh, hello, Nurse Noakes.
By all means tell me I'm a frightful bore, but would you consider doing me a kindness?
I'd be glad to, if my mum don't mind.
It's all connected to church affairs.
The Nativity play, to be precise.
We need a sort of capable senior angel
to rule the little Brownies with a rod of iron.
Oh, I don't know, Nurse. I might be needed at home.
I might let you down. I don't like to let you down.
-I always think it best to travel hopefully. -Oh, but, Nurse.
We're not at home to Miss Pessimistic.
Now, we'll rig you out in the best crepe paper.
Oh, shame. I haven't got my tape measure in my pocket.
You don't need it. I'm a 40-inch hip.
Oh, bravo. Splendid.
-Elsie in? -Yes.
Yeah, first door on the right.
-Excuse me. -It's the first floor.
-Ta ta then. -See you on payday.
(GROANS)
Greetings, Doctor.
I just called in to collect those instruments.
Of course. Nearly done.
No sign of that new autoclave?
The department said it would come this week,
but there's been no joy so far.
You staying for tea, Dr Turner?
Mrs B's made an absolute piece de resistance of Yule log.
Thanks, but I've got Timothy outside in the car.
Oh, dear. Housekeeper's day off?
Well, I'm sure we can pop you something into a paper bag.
(PHONE RINGS)
How is Timothy getting on?
It's been almost a year.
He's doing well enough,
but it will be our first Christmas since his mother died,
and I'm worried it might undo things.
I lost my mother when I was very young.
Children are more resilient than you think.
Well...
He's made his opinion of my cooking rather clear.
Fish and chips for us tonight, I reckon.
Sorry, Doctor, there's been a message from the surgery.
Urgent home visit requested.
Lady called Mrs Jenkins.
I'm meant to be at a rehearsal now.
Stay there and don't talk to anyone.
You'll make me late.
Like you're always late.
Hello?
(DOOR CREAKS)
Mrs Jenkins?
I'm a doctor. Here to help.
Don't you come near me.
(SCREAMS)
-I won't be a moment. -What? That's my dinner.
Who are you giving my dinner to?
(SIGHS)
It's a classic case of angina pectoris.
I've prescribed amyl nitrate for use in the event of any new collapse
and penicillin because there was evidence of urinary incontinence all over the...
Gangway!
Mrs Jenkins might very well have an infection which would contribute to her confusion.
It might be worth trying to collect a urine sample.
That shouldn't prove too challenging.
Just stick a galley pot in a convenient gutter.
She's also hard of hearing, jumping with fleas
and her living conditions are calamitous.
If you could speak to the Social Services,
I'll put her on the list for daily visits in the meanwhile.
(NERVOUS BREATHING)
Hello?
Mrs Jenkins?
I'm Nurse Lee.
The doctor sent me to come and have a look at you.
I don't need no bleeding looking at.
There's nothing to be afraid of.
We just want to see if we can make you a bit more comfortable.
Oh!
(CAT MEOWS)
Thought you was Rosie for a minute.
She's got a face like yours.
Like Carnation milk when you open up a tin.
Who's Rosie, Mrs Jenkins?
Is she a relation?
She's sweet.
Sweet as a little flower, she is.
The doctor wanted me to do a few routine checks
each time I visit.
We'll start by taking your pulse,
and then we'll move on to your temperature.
-Don't you touch me... No! -Please, Mrs Jenkins...
Well.
When do you see your patient again, Nurse Can't Take a Pulse?
Look, it wasn't that I couldn't, Sister,
it was that she wouldn't let me.
Oh, no, it was because she didn't trust you.
And if you can't make your patients trust you,
you are no good as a nurse.
Now answer my question.
(SIGHS)
She's on the list for this evening's rounds, Sister.
Mmm. And shall I tell you what else is on this evening's rounds?
Twenty-one injections, 16 insulin,
four penicillin,
an ear to syringe,
a cannula to drain
and three sets of haemorrhoids to compress!
I'm sorry, Sister, but the problem was...
No, no, I'll tell you what the problem is.
You young girls do too much book-learning.
You sit for months in classrooms,
filling your heads with loads of codswallop,
when simple practical tasks are beyond you!
(LOUD CRASH)
Now look what you've made me do!
(EXASPERATED SIGH)
Oh!
Cynthia?
I'm modelling for Chummy.
She ended up with more children taking part than parts,
so she decided to personify the Wise Men's gifts.
And what's that supposed to be?
Myrrh.
It's quite straightforward compared to frankincense.
-(KNOCKING ON DOOR) -Nurses!
Ah.
Well now, madam.
(BAGS THUDDING)
What's all this fuss about?
Doctor says you've got a problem with your ticker.
But I would lay bets
that it's as hale as mine.
Hmm. Right.
Let's have a check of this pulse.
-(LOUD SMACK) -(GROANS)
Oh!
Pulse attempted.
(SIGHS)
Patient
demonstrated strong right hook.
Right.
You awkward old biddy.
See what you make of this.
(BREAKS WIND LOUDLY)
And if that doesn't impress you, I can do it again.
In a different key.
(BREAKING WIND)
Catch it, Nurse Lee, it's heading for the door.
Cat's got it now.
It's underneath the chair.
Where e're you be, let your wind go free.
In church and chapel,
let it rattle.
Good thing there's no naked flames about.
(BOTH LAUGHING)
Right.
Off on the insulin round,
and I'm under no illusions that it'll be straightforward.
They'll all have been at the Quality Street,
every man Jack of 'em.
If I was the Prime Minister,
I would shut that factory down.
(DISTANT WAILING)
(WAILING CONTINUES)
Is that Mrs Jenkins?
Yes.
I've never heard anything like it.
I have.
(WAILING CONTINUES)
We used to call it the workhouse howl.
What?
It's the sound of someone who's been at the bottom of the heap.
I would call it a cry of protest,
except there's no fight left in it.
No hope either.
Should we go back?
Not now.
We couldn't reach her if we did.
(WAILING CONTINUES)
ALL: # Silent night
# Holy night
# All is calm...
And don't forget to smile.
The mayor doesn't want to see a lot of gloomy faces.
# Round yon ***
# Mother and child
# Holy infant so tender and mild... #
Go on!
(SINGING FADES OUT)
(CLOCK CHIMING)
Sister Monica Joan, why don't you rest
until it's time for compline?
(SIGHS)
No.
I thought
bright raiment was stored within this room.
But it's gone.
And we do not know what forces are at work.
Chummy takes the costumes
up to her old bedroom for safekeeping.
She doesn't want them getting in everybody's way.
I was accused of taking macaroons to my room
by Sister Evangelina, but it was not so.
Almonds are mercurial,
and likely to be consumed into the ether.
(FOOTSTEPS APPROACHING)
Would you hold the glue pot for me, Sister?
(FOOTSTEPS FADE)
(DOOR CLOSES)
Sister Monica Joan, have you heard of the workhouse howl?
I have heard the workhouse howl
itself.
One hears it less now the infirmaries are closed
and the inmates are slowly
tidied into graves.
It speaks of an agony beyond all words.
This wasn't beyond all words.
Mrs Jenkins was calling someone's name.
(WHIMPERING)
(FOOTSTEPS APPROACHING)
Lynette, have you seen my kitchen scissors?
No, Mum.
I was putting the string on the Christmas pudding,
and I couldn't lay hands on them.
What are you doing with your light still on?
I was just thinking.
You can think just as well in the dark.
Oh, come on, you.
Another busy day tomorrow.
Church in the morning.
And you've got rings around your eyes as black as the ace of spades.
Reckon my monthly's coming on.
No medals for that, I'm afraid.
You know where the aspirin is and the you-know-whats are.
Good night. And god bless you.
(DOOR CLOSES)
(CHURCH BELL TOLLING)
NUN: # Yea with thine eyes shalt thou behold
ALL: # And see the reward of the ungodly
NUN: # For thou Lord art my hope
ALL: # Thou hast set thine house of defence very high
# There shall no evil happen unto thee
# Neither shall any plague come nigh thy dwelling
# For he shall give his angels charge over thee
(GROANING)
ALL: # To keep thee in all thy ways
NUN: # They shall bear thee in their hands
ALL: # That thou hurt not thy foot against a stone
(WHIMPERING)
NUN: # Because he hath set his love upon me, therefore will I deliver him
# I will set him up, because he hath known my name
(THUNDER RUMBLING)
NUN: # With long life will I satisfy him
ALL: # And show him my salvation
# Glory be to the Father and to the Son
(DOOR CLOSES HEAVILY)
# And to the Holy Ghost
# As it was in the beginning is now and ever shall be
# World without end, Amen #
(THUNDER RUMBLES)
(WHIMPERING)
Help me!
Baby, help me.
(CRIES OUT IN PAIN)
(GRUNTING)
(GASPING)
(SCREAMING)
(GASPING)
(BREATHES HEAVILY)
(GRUNTING)
(BABY CRYING)
Sorry.
I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.
(SOBBING)
(BOTH SHIVERING)
Fetch the milk, darling.
Let's hope it hasn't frozen solid, like the bathroom tap.
Oh, no!
No, no!
Trixie!
Trixie!
Whatever's the matter?
-Oh, my goodness. -Get Sister Julienne.
(BABY SPLUTTERS)
His breathing's shallow and his pulse is slow.
He was already turning blue.
I'll fetch the blanket and the paraffin heater.
When you've done that, call for the police.
-(KNOCK ON DOOR) -Lynette!
Time to get up!
I am up.
(SIGHS)
Pillow case, candy-striped, wincey material.
You'll find the same in any one
of a hundred homes in Poplar.
We were able to snip about an inch
off the thread that was used to tie the cord.
It looks like ordinary kitchen string,
but the cord was cut quite neatly
with sharp scissors or a knife.
Make sure to clean the cord properly.
Whatever implement was used, it was unlikely to be sterile.
Yes, Sister.
Our order has been here for over 60 years.
We've never had a single case of abandonment, until now.
There's a paper bag here from Liston's,
that dry cleaners that shut down.
Sister,
why do you think somebody would do a thing like this?
(SIGHS)
I've come to the conclusion there are
only two reasons for ever doing anything.
One is love,
and the other is fear.
It would appear that both were at work in this case.
I've put almost a whole layette together
from the things in the charity box.
Pink booties for a boy?
There weren't any blue ones.
Wool of the proper hue can be acquired.
Wool of the proper hue can be purchased.
Nurse Lee, take two shillings out of the petty cash
and see that Sister Monica Joan is properly equipped.
FRED: What are we gonna call him, then?
I worry we should leave that to his mother.
I mean, she may come back.
Especially if it's reported in the papers.
It is in fact customary
to name an abandoned infant after somebody
closely connected with its rescue.
We can hardly call it Cynthia.
It'll be worse than pink booties!
Somebody closely connected, and of the same gender.
Nobody calls baby boys "Fred" any more.
You might as well give him a flat cap and a Woodbine.
There is surely only one appellation we can choose.
The child must be baptised in honour of
our patron, St Raymond Nonnatus.
Sounds like a spiv.
(BABY BREAKS WIND)
Ooh, sounds like a digestive system in full working order.
Now then, little Raymond,
let's see if we've warmed you up.
That's not what I asked for, but it's a start.
I can't believe the council won't re-house her.
The building's been condemned.
Elderly single people are supposed to go into nursing homes.
But we can do better than that for Mrs Jenkins, can't we?
I don't doubt it.
(LOUD CLANGING)
EVANGELINA: Call off the search!
I've found the bath.
What's more, it's full of coal.
(GRUNTS)
Right. I'll fill 'em up.
Oh, come on.
Move any slower, you'll grow moss.
Don't you talk against my Rosie. You come over here, dear.
I don't know who Rosie is, Mrs Jenkins, but she isn't me.
No.
She had a little girl's hands.
Yours are only small.
Ooh. Ooh.
I'm not taking 'em off! I told you, I'm not!
You thieving bisoms.
Please, Mrs Jenkins,
we need you to take them off so we can get you into the bath.
You can have them back afterwards.
She'll burn 'em.
I am burning your clothes because
they're riddled with little visitors!
We don't want them infesting the clean new bed.
I never take them off.
(WHISPERING) They won't come off.
They're stuck to her skin,
Sister.
We'll have to try Vaseline.
Here.
MRS JENKINS: Ahh!
-Mmm. -MRS JENKINS: Ohh.
You're hurting me.
(STRAINING GRUNTS)
No wonder you were lashing out.
You must have been in constant pain.
Ooh! We'll get you into the chiropodist's.
But Nurse Lee and I will give you the once-over for today.
They shame me.
EVANGELINA: No. Not any more.
(O COME O COME EMMANUEL PLAYING)
This placenta is less than 24 hours old.
And there's a piece missing.
What does that mean?
If the mother doesn't get medical help,
she will develop a uterine infection
leading to high fever and possible septicaemia.
If untreated, it may be fatal.
I see.
We need to find her.
We may not have much time.
I reckon that's squirrel.
And it's not long dead.
I'll keep it for best.
No, you're to put it on now.
You've a busy day ahead.
Dentist first, then we're going to the doctor's.
Did you hear me, Mrs Jenkins?
I heard the word "dentist".
I'll go in the spring, when it's warmer.
If you can eat without discomfort,
your general health will benefit.
My purse won't benefit.
There'll be no charge, Mrs Jenkins.
You're also entitled to free glasses
and a walking stick, should either take your fancy.
But you haven't eaten your meals on wheels.
I was saving it for Rosie.
She'll be hungry when she comes.
What's that?
It's a lamb chop.
(WALK HAND IN HAND PLAYING)
Be good now.
(GURGLING)
Oh! How very kind.
Thank you.
Hello.
Thank you.
Oh, goodness! Thank you.
(WHISPERING) Merry Christmas.
(MAIL FLAP CLANGING)
What you doing with my paper, madam?
Reading about this.
Someone's been doing something they didn't ought to.
Police have issued an appeal.
Quite right, too.
Whoever she was, she wants a horse-whipping.
Oh, I nearly forgot.
Friday night is sweetie money night.
Always has been, always will be.
Used to be a shilling, Dad. This is half a crown.
That's 'cause the things you do don't go unnoticed.
You're a good girl, Lynn.
You don't have to look after me, Mrs Jenkins.
I should be looking after you.
Besides, if I sit too close to the fire, I'll get chilblains.
Oh, not the chilblains.
My Rosie got chilblains.
She cried.
One night, the wardress,
she let her come to me
on account of the others being kept awake.
I wrapped her in my petticoat.
Her bones was like bird's bones.
Was Rosie your daughter, Mrs Jenkins?
All night she stayed.
And when morning comes, she was
put back with my others.
There were others?
How many?
Too many.
Did they go into the workhouse with you?
Yes.
They didn't thrive.
What happened to Rosie?
After the night with the chilblains?
I never saw her again.
Never saw none of them.
Never saw 'em fly.
I just knew they wasn't singing any more.
(SEWING MACHINE WHIRRING)
How could Mrs Jenkins not have been told?
I believe once you walked into one of those appalling places,
you gave up everything you were and every right you ever had.
Even your children?
Especially the children.
The kiddies were kept in separate quarters.
(BABY CRYING)
Oh, shh, shh.
Oh, sweetpea.
Social worker's going to come for him on Friday.
I heard Sister Julienne on the telephone.
First he'll be fostered,
then adopted, lost to his mother forever.
Oh, don't say that.
All the facts will be filed away in some sort of
beastly cabinet.
We just have to hope that one day they go looking for each other.
Sorry, ma'am. I'm looking for information about a baby who's been abandoned.
A baby? Around here?
(RETCHING)
(KNOCKING ON DOOR)
(KNOCKING CONTINUES)
Public records office?
-Just upstairs. -Thank you.
(TYPEWRITERS CLACKING)
All Saints Parish baptismal roll.
Thank you.
All Saints Parish, deaths.
Poplar workhouse, 1888 to 1934.
MATURE JENNY: And there it was, in neat, indifferent copperplate.
Third of April, 1906.
Jenkins, Mary Anne.
Widow, admitted destitute.
And underneath, the desolate roll-call
of her only possessions.
Alice, George, May, Percy,
age five, age three, age two,
age seven months,
and Rose.
There was a Rose.
Age eight upon admittance to the children's ward.
The cause of death was given as failure to thrive.
She was in there from 1906
to 1935.
Put to work in a sewing shed.
Enough to drive anyone doolally.
When the workhouse closed, she was discharged with a gift
of a sewing machine,
so that she could earn her own living.
And what do you propose to do, Nurse Lee,
now you have garnered these unedifying facts?
I don't know, Sister.
Then if I may crave my sisters' indulgence
for a quote from the apocrypha,
"You have been curious
"in unnecessary matters.
"The past remains the past.
"The present, un-amended."
EVANGELINA: Sister Monica Joan is right.
It's what happens in the here and now that counts.
Will it matter one day where Baby Raymond was found?
Blue with cold and wrapped in a pillowcase? No.
Because that will be his past.
And his present will be safe
and filled with love.
Mrs Jenkins' present isn't safe or filled with love.
Nurse Lee.
Forgive me, Sister, but her life is completely wretched.
She waits every day for a child.
For children that are never coming home.
Then you should turn your mind to that.
Pass me a mince pie.
Public burial ground, Poplar, 1900 to 1910.
Now, I want gold, frankincense and myrrh and the three kings
to stand at the back of the line for the parade of the shepherds and the sheep.
Come on. There we go.
-(DOOR OPENS) -(SIGHS)
Sorry.
We'll be starting that as soon as Nurse Lee takes her gloves off.
And don't forget to line up nicely down the central aisle.
You'll be walking past the mayor,
and I will not have him knocked by any elbows.
Timothy Turner, where's your tea towel?
My dad couldn't find one.
Very well.
Now, are you ready, sheep?
-BOYS PLAYING SHEEP: Baa! -Right. Now...
Angels. I don't want any angels trying to flap their wings.
Arms outstretched, but perfectly still.
That's it.
Lynnette, you're drooping a little.
-Sorry. -Bravo.
Nurse Lee.
(SHEEP MAY SAFELY GRAZE PLAYING)
BOYS PLAYING SHEEP: Baa!
No baa-ing, absolutely no baa-ing until you get to the manger
and see the newborn king.
Gary Scofield!
I'm gonna poke you with that crook, and I'll demote you to a bullock.
Right.
-Lynette. -Lynette.
(PIANO STOPS)
Lynette?
Shall I call a doctor?
Ambulance.
Sorry. I'm really sorry.
What for?
I haven't told no one.
Do you think you can tell me?
She wants a clip round the earhole, not chrysanthemums.
Mrs Duncan.
Margate.
Easter week.
Some lad she met queuing up for the waltzers.
He was staying in the boarding house across the way from us.
Should've kept me eye on her.
But I was three months gone myself, sick as a dog most days.
I should've noticed.
-I should have noticed. -I'm her mother.
If I didn't notice, there's no hope for you,
and if you didn't, there's no hope for anyone.
CHUMMY: Mr Duncan.
You know I'm a church warden.
Of course.
And she's a pillar of the Mother's Union.
My daughter comes from a respectable home.
Nobody's doubting that, Mr Duncan.
-But Baby Raymond... -Who called him that?
We did. It's only temporary.
He's a bonny little thing.
-Quite the bruiser, in fact. -When are the adoption people coming?
Friday.
Lynette's not signing any papers unless we're there.
She ain't well.
No.
What are you bringing me to a church for?
I'm not bringing you to a church, Mrs Jenkins.
I'm bringing you to a church yard.
Hmm?
I've no objection to a constitutional.
Mrs Jenkins, I don't know if you realise this,
but we're standing by a public grave.
Is there many put in here?
Yes.
This is where they buried the workhouse inmates.
I had too many.
And they're all here.
Together?
I was able to get plans of the cemetery
and the graves
from the public records.
It's all written down.
Percy and May are lying next to each other.
Just over there.
Alice is to the right.
I think in the summer that tree must cast some shade there.
And George is by the cross.
And Rosie?
She's right here, Mrs Jenkins.
Almost underneath your feet.
Will you help me to kneel down?
Of course.
I'd have liked her in with me.
To warm her feet.
But I can see she's tucked up safe.
If Lynette signs the papers,
little Baby Raymond will just be whisked away.
Camilla,
it's the family's decision and none of our business.
It's Lynette's decision.
Or it ought to be.
I grew up with Pa and Mater on a separate continent,
brothers at Winchester, which was miles away.
But one always had an address.
We were given stamps at the beginning of every term.
Poor little Raymond won't even have that.
You've got your all-in look about you now.
You sure you can't come home?
Peter, I'm on call.
I'll be quite all right once I've had my Horlicks.
Besides, I rather enjoy the odd night in my old quarters.
Young Raymond's rooming in with Cynthia,
and I'll have an entire crepe paper menagerie to keep me company.
Well, I shan't have any problem counting sheep.
(CLOCK CHIMES)
Someone trying to keep you out?
Possibly. Or be locked in.
(WATER DRIPPING)
(GASPS)
CHUMMY: Oh, my giddy aunt.
-No. -TRIXIE: The pipe must've burst.
CHUMMY: The costumes, everything's utterly ruined.
It wouldn't happen in bally Bethlehem.
Morning.
I could die of shame.
Come in.
The social worker's waiting with Sister Julienne in the dining room,
so you won't be disturbed.
(BABY GURGLING)
He isn't sleeping.
You can pick him up, Lynette.
I'm scared to.
Why?
'Cause they'll make me put him down again, and I've done that once.
This is cruel.
She's not old enough to be a mother.
She's not mature enough to be a mother.
(SNIFFLES)
It's flying in the face of everything God ever wrote.
He's making milk come out of me.
I have no quarrel with our Lord, in the general way, Mrs Duncan.
But I think you'll find Mother Nature wrote these rules.
Pick him up.
Come on, Ivy.
You're a mother, too.
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.
(BABY GURGLES)
It's a bit late for that now.
She ain't saying it to us, love.
She's saying it to him.
(WHISPERS) Thank you.
MATURE JENNY: Like all the things in life that are truly meaningful,
Christmas is never about perfection.
In Bethlehem 2,000 years ago, accommodation was makeshift,
the Wise Men followed somewhat confused directions
and the shepherds gave the nearest gifts that came to hand.
That year, in Poplar, things were similarly compromised.
-(DOORBELL RINGS) -But hope prevailed and
help came from unexpected sources.
Just the person we wanted to see.
Reinforcements. How perfectly wizard!
(CHILDREN LAUGHING)
MATURE JENNY: Baby Raymond was not lost.
Nor was his mother.
Their family made the best of it.
And gave their thanks, in kind.
Here you go.
-IVY: Hello, dear. -Morning.
Hi, Dad.
(CHILDREN CLAMOURING)
Anyone who does not line up nicely now will not get their entertainer badge!
(CHILDREN QUIET)
Thank you.
-BOY: Baa! -Shh!
Please.
Right.
(CHRISTMAS STORY PLAYING)
(RUSHING) Many years ago, in a town named Nazareth,
there lived a beautiful young lady called Mary.
God has chosen you to be the mother of a very special child.
You will have a baby, and his name will be Jesus.
How can that be? I have no husband.
ANGEL GIRL: It is a miracle from the Holy Spirit,
and the child will be the Son of God.
MATURE JENNY: It was a Christmas as unique as any other.
For every year, the mystery unfolds itself anew.
In later life,
I came to see that faith, like hope,
is a rope and anchor in a shifting world.
Faith cannot be questioned, only lived.
And if I could not grasp it then,
I felt its heartbeat,
which was love.
(CHRISTMAS STORY PLAYING)