Every season, the Drama After Dark team gathers ‘round the (yes, still online) conference room table to watch the latest and greatest in British dramas. As summer fades into autumn, we have more than just the metaphorical birth of a new season to contend with: it’s also time for the return of PBS favorite, Call The Midwife. Between our scrappy nurses, sassy nuns and gut-wrenching emotional trauma that somehow keeps you wanting more, there’s a lot to be excited about. Need a refresher on what happened last season? Check out our Season 9 and 2020 Holiday Special recaps here. Ready? Take a deep (lamaze) breath, and prepare yourself for Season 10!
Now where were we? Last season, Nonnatus house’s budget cut/rent hike was briefly reversed, and we dealt with addiction, death and a whole bunch of babies. This season starts on a hopeful note, as Sister Monica Joan gets back up on her feet and walks, creakily, down the hall. Across town, Vi bustles into her store and greets Fred with a typical honey-do list: go get Easter candy at lunch!
Fred: Ugh, but Vi, I wanted to go to the allotment to look after my daffodils! And I think there’s a rat living in the shed.
Me, a resident of Somerville, Mass., and thus familiar with the tyranny of city rats:
Vi: Don’t care! We can’t afford for you to go running around doing whatever you want if we don’t have an assistant, and we can’t hire someone until we rent out the flat upstairs.
I guess you can’t fault her logic, but seriously Vi, you don’t want to encourage a rat problem, or you’re gonna have a literal “If You Give A Mouse A Cookie” situation on your hands. Meanwhile, Sister Frances arrives outside one of her patient’s houses to find the lady in question scrubbing her front step.
Cinderella: Look, I figured you’d be on board: cleanliness is next to godliness, etc.
Sister Frances doesn’t have time for idioms, especially when Cinderella is nine months pregnant. She ushers her patient inside, taking a tea tray offered by Cinderella’s ALSO pregnant neighbor, who I’m calling Mrs. Potts for what I hope are obvious reasons, on the way.
Mrs. Potts, chatting to her husband: Oh, you’re feeling better? You were so sick this morning.
Mr. Potts, shoveling tinned rice pudding into his mouth: LOL I’m FINE. I’ll just keep on shotgunning rice pudding like a weirdo, it hasn’t killed me yet.
Mr. Potts, buddy: you can’t SAY stuff like that! It’s the Call The Midwife curse!
Anyway, back at Nonnatus, Sisters Julienne and Hilda take a look at the finances, prompting Sister Julienne to chug down a cup of tea as if it were liberally laced with gin. Once she explains why, I almost go get some gin/tea myself. Here’s the deal: she’s told Mother Mildred that they should send a few midwives to a Very Posh Maternity Hospital. That way, they can take the money they make from the rich and support the rest of the work they're doing in Poplar, which Mother Mildred describes, hilariously, and it must be said, accurately, as Robin Hood in wimples.
Anyway, it seems like a pretty good, if radical, idea to me, and Julienne already has a clinic lined up that desperately wants to hire the sisters, but Hilda is determined to be a stick in the mud: Mother Mildred said they had to wait for proper vetting.
Sister Julienne, in vibes if not in reality:
Her plan? Follow the letter, if not the spirit, of Mother Mildred’s instructions and send Trixie, who as we all know, is most certainly NOT a nun. Alas, before we can find out if Julienne is going to go full Sister Act and make Trixie wear a habit to sell the illusion, we’re off to clinic, where Cinderella is insisting that Dr. Turner promise she isn’t carrying twins this time.
Shelagh, laughing: Pal, if it were twins we could know by now!
Cinderella: Well, you say that, but he didn’t realize last time until mid-delivery!
Mrs. Potts, interjecting from the bed next door: Cinderella, cool it! I may not be a midwife, but anyone can see that you’re only half the size you were last time. I’m not kidding, Sister Frances, she was like the Hindenburg.
Sister Frances, bless her: On fire?
Mrs. Potts: No, huge! And I was really jealous; we’d been trying to have a baby for five years, no luck. It’s so nice to be able to share the experience this time :)
Awww! Back in the office, Sister Julienne prepares herself for Trixie’s rejection.
Trixie: Uh, why would I say no? That clinic is so fancy their garden parties get written up in the tabloids! And especially if this helps save Nonnatus? Heck yes!
Sister Julienne: Great. You’re going to be there for six weeks, which should be long enough for you to get a good peek at their setup and for all of us to make a game plan.
Look, am I excited for Trixie to go do something fun? Yes! But also let’s not forget that usually when people get a new job opportunity here in Call The Midwife land, it leads to them leaving the show. I, for one, haven’t gotten enough of Trixie’s shenanigans, so I hope history doesn’t repeat itself. Less thrilled with this plan? Dr. Turner, who’s weirdly furious.
Shelagh: This isn’t that groundbreaking? What’s the big deal?
Dr. Turner: Wait, did you KNOW?
Shelagh: No, and you’re being weird. This is how we’re going to support the people here in Poplar!
Dr. Turner, a little pollyannaish, if we’re being honest: It shouldn’t have to be! The National Health Service should be able to actually work as it’s meant to and take care of people their whole lives!
Shelagh: Well if the system isn’t working as it ought it’s not our fault! Or Sister Julienne’s!
She’s right, but Dr. Turner isn’t ready to stop sulking yet, so he slams the boot of their car and hops into the front seat in a huff.
Enough of THAT: it’s time for the sweetest part of the show — the first convo between Cyril and Lucille of the season! Unfortunately, the topic of their conversation is not sweet: Cyril’s church is still unable to find a location to worship, with landlords turning them away because of “the kind of church they belong to” i.e. racism. It’s starting to weigh on Cyril; in addition to not having a church, he’s living in a rooming house that’s been condemned. Thankfully, our pal Lucille is paying attention to the plot — maybe Cyril can rent that empty room above Vi’s store!
At the surgery, Sister Julienne asks Dr. Turner to look in on one of their patients before he leaves. For some reason, he’s still in a snit, and takes it out on our nun friend, snottily telling her he won’t charge for his services.
Sister Julienne, sick of his nonsense but still a nun: Well yeah, and hopefully that won’t change.
Shelagh, after Sister Julienne has left: Wow buddy, that was a little much.
Dr. Turner: Yikes, that’s the first time I’ve been angry with her in 20 years.
Shelagh: Great, let’s hope that’s the only time.
Dr. Turner: UGH I KNOW, I’m sorry. I just have misgivings about this plan!
And it turns out Dr. Turner isn’t alone. Phyllis, for instance, isn’t particularly amused that the clinic has enough cash to burn that they could send over Trixie’s new uniform in a taxi. And WHAT a uniform: it’s fancy, form fitting and difficult to launder. As you can imagine, Trixie is delighted (at least for now; I’m assuming the first time she has to try and get the thing cleaned after a birth and finds bits of placenta in the ruffles she might change her tune). The fashion moment is interrupted, as so many others at Nonnatus have been, by the usual “I think I’m in labor” phone call. This one is from our pal Mrs. Potts, who’s alone, her husband having gone to a reunion of his national service friends. Before leaving, Sister Frances looks in on a surprisingly glum Sister Monica Joan.
Sister Frances: I have to leave, but do you have everything you need for prayers later?
Sister Monica Joan, apparently deciding to out-sulk Dr. Turner: I might just do prayers here alone like I used to when I was young and useful.
Sister Frances, trying to help: I need you to pray on my behalf! Otherwise, it’s just Julienne and Hilda praying for everyone, and that’s a lot of pressure on them.
Sister Monica Joan: They’ll be fine. I, on the other hand, could use your help turning up the volume on my show.
Sister Frances, not really equipped to deal with Sister Monica Joan’s existential crisis, does as she’s told and then bounces. In Sister Julienne’s office, Sister Hilda arrives, saying she won’t say anything against Julienne’s money making scheme.
Sister Julienne: Good.
Sister Hilda: But look: if the staff nurses are all so fancy at that place, I don’t think we can go in our million-year-old habits!
Sister Julienne: Yeah, I hear ya.
Sister Hilda: Wait, what?
Sister Julienne: The Catholics are all about fashion, not sure why we have to be any different. Don’t worry; I’ll deal with Mother Mildred.
Over at Mrs. Potts’ house, it turns out that the first-time mum is not actually in labor. While Sister Frances sets her at ease, Mr. Potts, a wee bit hammered from his reunion evening, returns. Two things of note: first, he’s a goofy, trying to be helpful drunk who brings Frances’ bike into the house so no one will steal it (never mind that nobody in Poplar would DARE take a Nonnatus bike), and second, Mrs. Potts is SUPER annoyed at him, but in the well-trod way that makes me think he maybe goes out drinking a bit too often for her taste.
The next day, Cyril heads over to Vi’s shop to check out the flat, where he gets a tour from a very eager Fred. Problem solved, surely (I’m not so naive, reader, don’t worry). Meanwhile, Trixie prepares for her first shift at the Very Posh Maternity Hospital with the exact vibes of Maria leaving the abbey in "The Sound of Music," but with decidedly better clothes.
Almost immediately, Cyril spots the problem with renting Fred and Vi’s flat: he just can’t afford it, even when Fred offers to lower the rent.
Cyril: I’m so sorry, I misunderstood — I thought the price was monthly, not weekly. No matter how generous you are, it won’t be low enough.
Fred: But it’s just sitting here empty.
Cyril: Look, the right person will come along! You have to get what the place is worth — it’s your business and I’m pretty sure this is your retirement plan!
Me: That’s all very well and good, but DO you think maybe you could afford this flat on two incomes? We all know you’re eventually going to marry Lucille!
Hey remember the thing where Mr. Potts has stomach issues? They’re (shocker) worse than we thought, and your man just barfed up blood. I’m not a doctor, and I don’t play one on TV, but I think we can all agree that’s BAD. But before we find out what Dr. Turner and the gang are going to do about it, we follow Trixie to the Very Posh Maternity Hospital, and folks, it’s very posh indeed.
Very Posh Doc, a casual sexual harasser: Wow, turns out you’re as timely as you are pretty. I’m going to promote you to “Sister”; it’ll make the patients more confident.
Trixie, taking it in stride: Well, I’d hope they were already confident: childbirth is a natural process.
Very Posh Doc, saying a lot of good stuff but in a weirdly slimy way: Sure, but it’s also scary. My two rules are that women should never have to suffer through birth AND that I always have warm hands. So be a doll and keep this hot water bottle ready at all times!
Well. To paraphrase ol’ Billy Shakespeare, the gentleman doth protest too much, methinks. I don’t trust that guy farther than I can throw him. Back with the medical team we actually like, Dr. Turner has a chat with Mr. Potts. It’s not an emergency, but he should head to St. Cuthberts this morning to talk to a specialist — Dr. Turner thinks he has an ulcer.
Back at the Very Posh Maternity Hospital, Trixie picks up her first patient from the waiting room. Will her husband be joining them? Certainly not! He’ll just wait outside, because the doctor usually comes and exchanges “pleasantries” after.
Trixie:
Very Posh Doc: Well, you look great, patient! I sure hope you followed my advice and quit your job.
Can’t Have It All: I did indeed! Trixie, let me tell ya: pregnancy and being a high-flying advertising type did not mix. They kept hiding me in the back room!
Very Posh Doc: Well, Trixie here will help you get comfy and then we’ll do our exam.
Trixie:
I’m just gonna leave this here:
Anyway, while Trixie gets radicalized, we’re going over to St. Cuthberts for an update on Mr. Potts. Unfortunately for him, he’s been admitted so the doctors can feed him some barium in the morning to try and figure out if he’s got ulcers. Fun(?) fact: barium does not taste great! Luckily for Mr. Potts, his doctors have also promised him some rice pudding, so he’s got THAT going for him. But enough of the serious medical stuff: we’re off to Nonnatus house where the promised updated habits are shaping up.
Sister Frances:
Vi: Cool it, kiddo: we’re covering your knees!
Sister Frances: But when I ride my bike they’ll get exposed! I hate my knees, they’re part of the reason I became a nun!
Me: Wait, WHAT?
Lucille, entering: Oh, that’s cute, but isn’t it a bit short? I can see her knees!
Frances:
At the Very Posh Maternity Hospital, Trixie is surprised to find out that her patient Can’t Have It All has been admitted.
Can’t Have It All: Apparently I’m anemic, so I need to be brought iron pills on a fancy silver platter.
Trixie: Look, not to be weird, but you could totally just take these pills at home?
Can’t Have It All: Yeah, and I might be more comfortable there too — my husband packed my stuff himself and he… did not do a good job. It’s all my fanciest negligees!
Trixie: LOL, fond memories I’m sure.
And speaking of fond memories, over at the Potts house, Mrs. Potts is reminiscing about her soap: a fancy brand that Mr. Potts buys her as a treat because it’s what she wore when they first started dating.
Lucille and Frances:
Mrs. Potts: Speaking of my husband, does he know I’m in labor?
Sister Frances: Yeah, I made sure the nurse on duty at the hospital is aware!
Hilariously, that bit of information has an unintended consequence, i.e. Mr. Potts escaping the hospital to dash home for the birth.
Sister Frances: You’re supposed to be in the hospital!
Lucille: Look, you can stay, but you need to wash up and put on a gown.
Mrs. Potts: NO. I don’t want him here until we’re done and the baby and I are all cleaned up! Like in a movie.
Well that’s him told, and so it is that Mr. Potts is outside smoking when Sister Julienne arrives. Why? Well their neighbor Cinderella is ALSO in labor. All of the babies on the street, apparently:
Next door, Cinderella’s husband has made up the bed upstairs, but she’s pretty sure she won’t make it up. Sister Julienne sends her husband outside to join Mr. Potts, and then finds out that Cinderella was right: she’s fully dilated, and will be having that baby right there in the kitchen. Laboring hard, Cinderella delivers a little girl, while Mrs. Potts has a boy. But at the Potts house, something is wrong. Despite Lucille’s efforts, the baby is very quiet, and is also missing his legs. Sister Frances, running to the phonebooth to call the Turners, is about as stern as we’ve ever seen her, yelling to Mr. Potts to STAY OUTSIDE.
Shelagh: Sit tight — we’re on the way with oxygen and will figure out the next steps when we get there.
Sister Frances, understandably rattled: What do I DO?
Shelagh: Trust your training!
Good advice, but awfully hard to process in times like these. Sister Frances does seem to be up to the job though, and is composed when we next see her, back in the Potts house. The news is unfortunately not good: Dr. Turner says the baby is too weak to transport to the hospital, so Lucille prepares the baby for his parents to hold for the first and last time. Lucille comforts the family as best she can, but when Sister Julienne hears crying and checks in on her way home from the delivery next door, Dr. Turner explains that they can’t leave Mrs. Potts yet, and she’s not ready for them to take her son, who they’ve named Christopher.
Sister Julienne: What can I do?
Dr. Turner: I’d say just be here, but I know you don’t need to be asked. Can’t put a price on that.
Glad they’ve sorted out their issues, but an apology might still be in order, Dr. Turner. Sister Julienne heads next door to get ice from the neighbors: if they can keep baby Christopher cold, he can stay longer.
Cinderella: I heard the crying through the wall; take literally anything you need.
The next morning, Mrs. Potts wakes up to the sound of a crying baby, but horribly, sadly, it’s not hers. Sister Julienne gives her the news about her friend’s delivery, and Mrs. Potts wordlessly tries to go back to sleep, because what CAN you say to that?
Back at Nonnatus house, Sister Monica Joan and Phyllis talk about what happened while Monica Joan works on her physical therapy. Phyllis not so subtly suggests that Monica Joan get it together and help Sister Frances process the death; while Phyllis can offer professional advice, she can’t assist with the spiritual side. Unfortunately for Sister Frances, Sister Monica Joan is still going though it herself, and feels unable to help.
The hits keep on coming: over at Very Posh Maternity Hospital, Trixie tries to talk some sense into Very Posh Doc.
Trixie: Hey I know you’re trying to take care of your patients and make them feel fancy, but I think you’re not empowering them. No disrespect intended, but women trust midwives, and you should let us help them and do our jobs.
Very Posh Doc: Interesting. Who do you have in mind?
Trixie: Well, I’ve only talked to Can’t Have It All on camera, so… her?
Very Posh Doc, shocking the hell out of all of us: Ok, take it away! You manage her entire labor — we’re all gonna learn something from that!
Wow, ok Very Posh Doc, right into the deep end, huh? Back in Poplar, Dr. Turner sits down with Mr. Potts to explain that he’ll check in with the docs at St. Cuthberts to make sure his ulcer/whatever it is is taken care of.
Mr. Potts, thoroughly shell shocked: What are we gonna do about the pram?
Dr. Turner: I can put it out in the yard so your wife won’t have to look at it. And I’m gonna give you some toast; you can’t be having an ulcer on an empty stomach.
In the bedroom, Mrs. Potts tells the midwives that she keeps waiting for her neighbor (and bestie) Cinderella to stop by.
Sister Julienne: I’m sure she’ll be over as soon as she can.
Mrs. Potts: I just want to know why this happened, you know?
Lucille: Oh, precious, we may never figure that out.
Mrs. Potts: I get that. At least I get to love him still, just as he is. Please don’t hide his legs from me, it’s ok. And will you wash him with my special soap?
Lucille, of course, complies on both counts, and later, the couple is ready to let the midwives take their baby away. They give him a last kiss and hand him to Sister Julienne. Later, back at Nonnatus, Lucille returns to find Cyril waiting for her. Neither of them have had any luck in finding him a new place yet, but they still have each other, at least.
Back at the Potts house, Mr. Potts’ friend from his regiment stops by and starts singing a goofy song outside his door. I’m not sure if this friend knows what happened and is trying to cheer his buddy up, or is just Like That, but Mr. Potts isn’t completely hating it. Anyway, Hammy Friend takes Mr. Potts out for a drink and a chat.
Mr. Potts: He was missing his legs.
Hammy Friend: Well, that doesn’t make him any less perfect, your boy. And I’m not saying that to try and make you feel better: my kiddo was born missing fingers. I’m so sorry about what happened, I wish you’d had our luck.
Gotta hand it to you Hammy Friend, that was shockingly supportive. Later, Mr. Potts talks to Dr. Turner about his ulcer issue: can they ever be caused by food poisoning?
Dr. Turner: Huh?
Mr. Potts: Well, when I was overseas, we all got food poisoning from this weird fish, but some of us have been ill on and off ever since.
Dr. Turner, sensing an opportunity for epidemiology: Some of you?
Mr. Potts: Yeah, Hammy Friend still gets crazy heartburn. And um… he just told me his daughter was born with some missing fingers. I wondered if maybe they were connected? Like the fish had mercury or something?
Dr. Turner: Where did you say you were stationed again?
Mr. Potts: Christmas Island? We were working on the nuclear bomb.
Uh oh. Dr. Turner agrees, and decides to look for more info… in Miss Higgins’ files. She’s exactly as thrilled by that as you’d expect, i.e. not very, and takes him to task when she catches him at it. Despite him finding something interesting, Miss Higgins tells him to drop the papers and explain what he needs before he ruins everything.
Dr. Turner: We need to call the ministry of defense and get Mr. Potts’ military health records. We also need to find out if any of the other patients in our system were in his unit.
Back at the Very Posh Maternity Hospital, Trixie ambushes Can’t Have It All’s husband, and tells him to put on a gown — his wife wants him to come assist. With his help, and Trixie’s, Can’t Have It All delivers a baby boy. At the surgery, Miss Higgins has had the kind of afternoon anyone who’s tried to cancel their cable service can recognize: a nightmare. She’s been transferred, kept on hold for almost an hour, and all to find out that the ministry of defense won’t forward any records, because they are confidential.
Dr. Turner: Wait, what? They always send those over, asking is just a formality!
Miss Higgins: Yeah, exactly. Between calls I also found another of our patients who might have been in the same unit. We referred him to a different hospital because he had leukemia.
Dr. Turner: Great, let’s get in touch with him.
Miss Higgins: Bad news, pal, we can’t. He’s dead. And the ministry told me those records were missing.
Meanwhile, Lucille catches the family Potts leaving the house.
Lucille: Wait, what are you doing?? It’s too soon, you shouldn’t be up and about!
Mrs. Potts: I have to be, we’re going to register Christopher’s birth and death together.
Mr. Potts: It’s how we’re coping with this.
Lucille: Ok, well then I’m coming with you.
Meanwhile, at the Very Posh Maternity Hospital, Trixie finds Can’t Have It All’s husband lurking in the nursery. Does he want to hold his baby? No, the other nurse said he wasn’t allowed. Trixie, having been in Poplar for a while, isn’t about to heed that nonsense, and promptly deposits the baby in his father’s arms with an admonition to support the head. Despite having been horribly emotionally constipated this entire time, Can’t Have It All’s husband really takes to his kiddo and tells Trixie about how he met his wife on a blind date. Point: Trixie.
Back in Poplar, the Potts family runs into Cinderella, who promptly tries to cross the street to avoid them.
Mrs. Potts: Cinds, wtf. I know you feel bad, but pretending nothing happened doesn’t take away the pain, ok? I know you’re sorry, and we’re both hurting.
Cinderella: Ugh, I didn’t know what to do.
Mrs. Potts: Show me your baby! It’s just her right, no surprise twin?
That, finally, diffuses the tension fully (or as much as possible at any rate), and Mrs. Potts leaves, telling Cinderella she’ll be by soon to visit. Later, Dr. Turner and Shelagh chat with Hammy Friend, who plays some video reels and pictures he took while he and Mr. Potts were deployed. The pictures:
Shelagh: How did you get these pictures back home?
Hammy Friend: Well, we weren’t supposed to take any, but I worked at the post office so I sent these back with the rest of my wildlife photography.
Dr. Turner: How close were you to the explosion?
Hammy Friend: Oh, like right on the shore. But Mr. Potts was on a boat a lot closer — they were supposed to cover their faces and turn the other way, but even so he told me he could see his finger bones glowing through his hands.
YIKES. While we all think about that, Lucille has a proposition for one of her church friends, Mrs. Wallace, who she tracks down at her job at St. Cuthberts. But before Lucille can explain the plan, the Potts family bursts into the emergency room: Mr. Potts is absolutely covered in blood.
Lucille: What happened?!
Mrs. Potts: He had a hemorrhage, the kitchen is covered in pints of blood!
We don’t get an immediate update on that whole situation, but we do find out Lucille’s plan: Mrs. Wallace checks out Fred’s apartment, and approves it on behalf of the church, who will be paying the rent. She has two requirements: one, that Fred help them get their piano upstairs, and two, that Cyril lives on site. Fred, obviously, is delighted, and switches out their “apartment to rent” notice for a “shop assistant needed” notice. Upstairs, in the flat, Cyril and Lucille dance to a song on the radio to celebrate, and it’s exactly as charming as you’re picturing. They’re about to kiss, when Mrs. Wallace, in the manner of ALL church ladies, blasts into the flat and interrupts them.
Back at the hospital, Dr. Turner arrives, and is immediately greeted by Mrs. Potts, who asks him to explain her husband’s chart. He’s had a partial gastrectomy, meaning that part of his stomach has been removed.
Dr. Turner: I really wish I had access to his full chart.
Mrs. Potts: Wait, parts are missing? That’s not good.
Dr. Turner: No, it’s not. I think that your husband and his fellow soldiers were exposed to radiation, and they and their kids may have suffered damages because of that.
Mrs. Potts: Is anyone going to help us?
Dr. Turner: I don’t know.
Mrs. Potts: Well I’m not going to let this go. There’s nothing else I can do for our son.
I sincerely hope they get some kind of government restitution, but given what we all know about governments in general, I don’t have high hopes (yes, I know I could google this, but just go with me here!). At Nonnatus house, Fred is also unwilling to let something go: in this case, he’s annoyed that he made a special garden hoe so Sister Monica Joan could garden while seated, and instead, she’s grumpily sulking on a bench.
Fred: I did that for you! Shape up! And Phyllis got you those nice gloves, and you won’t even wear them?
Sister Monica Joan: I’m going back to my room… or maybe I should say my CELL.
Fred: Well I’m not helping you go inside to hide. This isn’t just about your leg, is it?
Sister Monica Joan: Ugh, it’s not just my leg. It’s my faith… I’ve been hiding what I’m feeling from everyone, and that’s normal for nuns, but I’m really struggling.
Fred: But God doesn’t seem to have let you down? You seem to be buddies?
Sister Monica Joan: You’re trying to simplify it. See, we talk about the concept of a dark night of the soul; if you look for God, it just emphasizes the void. Don’t tell anyone: only God can help me, and if he doesn’t, I’ve wasted my whole life.
You know what, I feel like a crisis of faith is probably par for the course on some level, but it sure is hard to hear Monica Joan struggling so much. Also, who’s buying the single from my new metal band “Emphasize the Void”? Later, at the house, Sister Hilda is in a panic: Monica Joan won’t answer her door, and they’re about to have their The New Look, Habit Edition fashion show.
Sister Frances: Well I can’t go out in two different outfits: people will think I’m enjoying myself!
There’s not much they can do but get on with the show, so get on with it they do. Sister Frances is clearly deeply worried about her knees the entire time, but Sister Hilda, a dark horse, models her look with a level of alacrity I’m not sure we’ve ever seen from her before. And then, in what I suppose should be a surprise to no one, the last look is modeled by none other than Vi, who never backs down from a sartorial challenge. Fashion show completed, Phyllis snaps photos of the ladies to send to Mother Mildred, presumably for her approval.
Alas, we’re not ending on a completely high note: yes, our nun friends may soon get new fancy uniforms, but between the tragic infant death, the government malfeasance and Sister Monica Joan’s ongoing crisis of faith, this season is off to an even more bittersweet start than usual (and Call The Midwife isn’t ever all sunbeams and unicorns, is it?). Will our team uncover what’s happened with the Christmas Island situation? Will their nascent partnership with the Very Posh Maternity Hospital be all it’s cracked up to be? Will we get more screen time for my favorite Call the Midwife romance, LuCyrill? We’ll just have to watch next week to find out!
