Every season, the GBH Drama staff sit down to watch the latest and greatest in British dramas. And now, just a few short months after the last season, we have the springtime 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 10 and 2021 Holiday Special recaps here. Ready? Take a deep (lamaze) breath, and prepare yourself for Season 11!
I’m not going to lie to you: spring isn’t my favorite season (I’m from New England: I like the cold! I'm not here to apologize!) but the adorable outfits sported by children and adults alike at the start of this season of Call The Midwife might just change my mind. Yes, we have the usual floral explosion…
… but our friends are also sporting crocheted bunny and chick costumes! Phyllis is even wearing some kind of flower covered hat? It’s outrageous, is what I’m saying.
Anyway, onto the actual plot of this episode: trainee midwife Boots is about to have her first real day on the job, and she’s very very excited about it. Inside Nonnatus, A for Effort continues the task of convincing all of us watching at home that he’s not a rich entitled trashboy anymore. It’s going ok!
Sister Julienne: Look, I have to hand it to you: since we’re not doing that trainee program anymore, we’d really struggle without your financial support.
A for Effort: At least you’ve been able to keep Boots around!
Sister Julienne: We were very happy about that too — wasn’t sure she’d qualify.
A for Effort: Well, that’s life for you: uncertainty and surprises.
Right on schedule, across Nonnatus, Sister Frances just happens to be walking by Boots’ room when she hears the roof cave in, dropping dust and debris all over Boots’ bed (and her freshly pressed uniform that she’s laid out for work tomorrow). Sure, our friends can help with the wardrobe issues, but the ceiling is going to be a bigger problem: per Cyril, they’ve got dry rot.
Phyllis, emoting for us all:
Yes, the course of true midwifery never did run smooth: once again our friends are in danger of losing their home. And to top it all off, this means Boots has to move in with Trixie. Sure, neither of them snore, but I get why Trixie is less than thrilled: she’s earned her privacy after all these seasons!
And speaking of well-earned privacy: next we head over to visit our favorite newlyweds in their apartment, where Lucille is packing up a very tasty looking lunchbox for Cyril. Aw! But there’s a problem with domestic bliss: it’s cutting into Phyllis’ morning meeting time, and she’s NOT pleased.
Phyllis, full on passive aggressive mom vibes: Oh, thank you for JOINING us, Lucille! Any idea where Boots is?
Trixie: I think her uniform is still wet from the whole collapsing roof situation.
Boots, bustling in: It was! Had to use my hairdryer, which then fused, so I had to borrow yours Trix — hope that’s ok!
Trixie: Definitely!
Me: Reader, it was not ok. Boots also broke Trixie’s hairdryer.
Sister Hilda, also arriving on scene: Look! A bunch of educational materials from the board of health! Yay! I’ll plan all the lectures, since I’m the only qualified projectionist on staff.
Phyllis:
So as you can see, this season is off to a great start. Across town at the surgery, Miss Higgins informs a caller that no, she won’t just be handing out antibiotics over the phone (too right!) when the first patient of the episode arrives: a young couple called Mr. and Mrs. Fleming who you might remember from the first episode of last season: their son was born missing his legs and died soon after, and Mr. Fleming also dealt with some very intense medical issues, all due to his exposure to radiation.
Thankfully for them, things seem to be looking up: as far as Dr. Turner can tell, their current pregnancy is going well. They’re still stressed and worried about their baby, as one might expect given their previous experiences, so Shelagh suggests they try out a relaxation class.
Mrs. Fleming: Yeah, sign him up! He’s smoking like a chimney!
Dr. Turner: Been there, man.
Mr. Fleming: You think I should quit? Look, I definitely got irradiated, but my lungs are fine!
Dr. Turner: I’m actually not that worried about your lungs, but you had a gastrectomy. You could get stomach cancer.
Mr. Fleming: Fine, gimme a leaflet.
Out on rounds, Phyllis visits her patient for the week, a quiet and proper lady who isn’t super keen to open the door. On entering the flat, it’s clear that Phyllis has stepped into a time capsule. Miss Timid, it seems, is caring for her aging mother, who struggles with incontinence. Both the women are quite prideful and doing their best to keep up appearances, which Phyllis can obviously understand, even if I suspect it may become challenging later.
Meanwhile, at the clinic, Mrs. Fleming has arrived for her appointment, and while she’s doing pretty well, she’s still understandably struggling with anxiety. Sister Frances does her best to comfort her patient, but there’s really only so much a cup of tea is going to do for this poor woman.
Across town, Trixie stops by the apartment block formerly known as Miserable Disaster Apartments to drop off a ball Baby Jonathan left at Nonnatus when A for Effort was there earlier to write that big ol’ check. But their playful flirting about Jonathan’s football career is quickly put on hold when worker runs out to get A for Effort: the construction crew found a baby? I was hoping this was going to turn into a charming wacky adoption story a la Three Men and a Baby or The Mandalorian, but unfortunately, we aren’t in for a good time here: inside, they find the skeleton of an infant, wrapped in some cloth. Trixie isn’t a forensic anthropologist, but it doesn’t take any help from TV's Bones for a midwife to be able to recognize that, based on the size, this child was a newborn. Since the remains are carefully wrapped, she also thinks the body was left deliberately, and so A for Effort heads off to call up the police.
All in all, a pretty rough day for our friends! That evening, Boots tries to cheer Trixie up by bringing her some kind of fruity drink.
Boots: And there’s no booze in it; I know you’re weird about that.
Trixie, prickly: I’m not weird, I’m sensible. Ugh, I’m sorry. Thank you so much. I just can’t stop thinking about that little baby: their skulls look so much more like people than you’d think. Who put it there? And why?
I can’t imagine it’s anything less than incredibly tragic, so brace yourselves, I guess? Anyway, the next day, Sister Julienne drops in at Mrs. Fleming’s house.
Sister Julienne: Hi! Sorry I missed you at clinic yesterday — Mrs. Turner thought you might want a visit. And Sister Hilda is doing a presentation about quitting smoking — I figured you’d want to pass those details along to your husband.
Mrs. Fleming: I sure do! Thanks for coming; I made a scene yesterday crying at my appointment. I thought I was fine, and then all of a sudden I couldn’t stop thinking about Christopher.
Sister Julienne: You love him, and you always will.
Mrs. Fleming: Yes, and I’m scared. Will they have oxygen at the maternity home?
Sister Julienne: They will. Everything you need will be there, including Dr. Turner, and we can send you to the hospital at any time. We can also have someone else deliver your baby.
Mrs. Fleming: I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings — Lucille and Sister Frances are both so sweet.
Sister Julienne: Yeah, but I think you need a clean slate. We can help with that.
Mrs. Fleming: Well, I want to help myself too: here’s all the info we collected about the men who were in those nuclear tests with my husband, and any kids they had. I just can’t think about it right now.
Sister Julienne: Makes sense! I’ll take it from here.
Once again I am here to give it up for our midwife friends and their extremely thoughtful care! Anyway, across town, Vi closes up the shop and puts Fred and Reggie to work redecorating her window display. The theme? The Eurovision Song Contest.
Later that evening, Sister Julienne brings all the paperwork the Flemings have gathered over to the Turner home, where she and Dr. Turner start to go over everything. Unfortunately, Shelagh can’t chat for long, because all three of the kiddos have chicken pox, but she can take all the mishmash of information and collate it into something orderly.
The next day, Miss Higgins’ morning tea is interrupted by a stern, steely lady who blasts into the waiting room. Who is this force of nature? A police detective, and you KNOW I’m therefore going to name her after one of my absolute favorite MASTERPIECE detectives (gone but always Unforgotten in our hearts).
Proto-Cassie Stuart: So we checked the voter rolls first, but since the building had multiple flats, it’s much harder to figure out who lived where.
Dr. Turner: Am I right to remember that there was a nurses home there during the war?
Proto-Cassie Stuart: Yep: 15 unmarried women lived there in 1939, all on the staff at St. Cuthberts. Some of them might still be living here: they’d be your patients.
Dr. Turner: So you need our records.
Proto-Cassie Stuart: We basically need as much info as we can get, or we’ll never be able to give that baby a name… or justice.
Meanwhile, over at Nonnatus, Phyllis is furious: the midwives’ recent delivery of medical supplies was dumped on the doorstep! It could have been ruined!
Sister Frances: Yes, true, but I don’t have time to be mad because I have to go out on rounds.
Phyllis: Uh, no you don’t: you look super sick! Go to bed, I’ll call up Lucille to cover for you. She can also drop off these pads with my patient Miss Timid’s mom — same building.
Lucille, always helpful, heads out to do just that. At the door, she’s greeted by Miss Timid’s mother, who we find out used to be an elocution teacher, and thus earns the recap name Henrietta Higgins. She’s obviously slightly confused, but still very courteous, and yet her daughter Miss Timid quickly shoos her away.
Lucille, hearing the labor happening down the hall: Well, as you can imagine, I need to get going. But Phyllis asked me to drop these off.
Miss Timid, who I clearly have misnamed: Well thanks, but you should have been more discreet. Bye.
Rude! Across the hall, Lucille arrives to find Sister Frances’ patient in the throes of labor and sobbing, and is greeted by her very involved husband.
Lucille: Hey, why are you crying? And why are you holding the sink, were you sick?
Helpful Husband: No, she’s just in a lot of pain.
Lucille: Well, that’ll happen. Do you have any female relatives here?
Helpful Husband: Nope, we immigrated alone from Gujarat.
Lucille: Well don’t worry, you’re not alone!
Meanwhile, Sister Hilda is doing the opposite of comforting her patients. Armed with a slide projector and some very creepy pictures of nicotine soaked lungs, her smoking cessation program seems to be nothing out of the ordinary, until she starts describing cigarettes in a rhapsodic way that can only mean one thing: our nun friend used to smoke herself. Yes, this does make her more qualified to help others quit, and I think her methods might work, but Mrs. Fleming, in the front row, doesn’t have time for that. Is it true, she asks, that smoking could cause cancer in other parts of the body?
On a less somber note, we return to Nonnatus house where our beloved Sister Monica Joan has commandeered the TV to watch Sandie Shaw perform Puppet On A String, that year’s British entry to the Eurovision Song Contest, and Sister Monica Joan’s pick for the winner. No spoilers, but let’s just say MJ has impeccable taste as always. While Boots clearly enjoys the song, she still maintains that Sandie Shaw can’t compete with her beloved Nancy Sinatra (really helping me validate your recap name, Boots, thanks for that).
Sister Julienne, entering the chat: What’s that theme song?
Phyllis: Top of the Pops! Boots put it on so Sister Monica Joan could hear the UK entry for Eurovision.
Sister Monica Joan: Sister Hilda is going to be so bummed she missed it! She’s planning a whole festive party for Eurovision night!
Sister Julienne: Uh, pump the brakes: that’s frivolous nonsense and we are nuns.
Boots: But. The World Cup? Just last season?
Sister Julienne: That was history, this is just silly pop music.
Sister Julienne, you know I like you, but anyone who makes Sister Monica Joan look that sad needs a stern talking to! And speaking of stern talking tos (talkings to?), outside Sister Hilda’s smoking cessation class, Mrs. Fleming is a woman with a plan: she wants her husband to get rid of his cigarettes. Now.
Mr. Fleming: First of all, she didn’t show any gross pictures of stomachs. Second of all, I’m already riddled with radiation, so who cares!
Mrs. Fleming: Me? But also do it for yourself: you can’t change what the government did to you but you can take charge of your health with this. I need you to be around for a long time for me, and this baby!
Can’t argue with that, so he promptly chucks his cigs on the ground and stomps on them, and they walk home. Across town, Lucille delivers her patient’s baby. Despite the challenges of the language barrier, she still manages to be supremely comforting, because Lucille is consistently the best. You know who else is consistent? Sister Frances, who’s somehow contrived to catch the chicken pox from the Turner kids. Phyllis checks her out, quarantines her, tells her not to scratch, and heads out to do some light contact tracing. Meanwhile, Proto-Cassie Stuart returns to the surgery with news about the baby found in the apartment flat.
Proto-Cassie Stuart: The pathologist is still examining the remains, but we analyzed the flooring and between the brand of linoleum and the newspaper underneath it, we can tell that the floor hasn’t been touched since the mid-1930s.
Dr. Turner: So you can rule out a connection with the nurses home?
Proto-Cassie Stuart: Correct.
Later, at some kind of adorable cafe, Trixie shares the news with A for Effort, and gives him a rudimentary overview of just how much you can tell about a dead body from the remains. The baby was a full term newborn, and A for Effort tells Trixie that means that if charges are ever filed they’ll be for breaking a law from the 1860s, which is still on the books.
Trixie: WTF? That law is so old!
A for Effort: Sure is, but it still carries a 2 year charge.
Trixie: But that’s so messed up! The baby was wrapped very carefully — whoever did this isn’t a criminal, they were just scared!
Sister Hilda heads to the school to check in on Boots’ daughter Colette, who’s apparently just kind of a gloomy kid, and to tell the teacher to batten down the hatches: chicken pox has arrived in Poplar. Later that evening, Boots and Sister Hilda talk it over: Boots has confirmed that Colette did already have chicken pox, but she’s understandably upset that she had to check with someone else to find that out: after all, she’s Colette’s mother.
Sister Hilda: Very soon you’ll be able to bring her up yourself!
Boots: I just don’t like to think about her being sad and gloomy :(
Meanwhile, Dr. Turner and Proto-Cassie Stuart are still on the case. They’ve followed up all but two leads with no luck — one now lives elsewhere, so the cops there will check into that, but one is still in Poplar.
Dr. Turner: Oh, I know this family! One of the younger women has a history of mental illness. Don’t go talk to her without a nurse.
Proto-Cassie Stuart: Sure — I’m going tomorrow, and I’ll take whoever you think is the best fit.
In non-horrible news, Fred and Cyril are enjoying a lovely day puttering around the Nonnatus garden, just being the ultimate unproblematic bros that we know and love.
Cyril: Look, Lucille carved the radish in my lunchbox into a flower like those bonkers influencer moms on Instagram!
Fred: Cute! You two are such newlyweds. Oh, BTW: can you both come over for dinner next week for Reggie’s birthday? It’s the same day as Eurovision so I’m trying to make it still feel like a special occasion for him, and you two are very special to us.
Cyril: Aw, thanks Fred! We’ll be there. Now eat this radish so I don’t bring it home and disappoint my wife.
So who did Dr. Turner think was the best option to go interview a potential homicide suspect? Phyllis, natch! And unfortunately, it’s not, as I originally assumed, because she’s unflappable; when they get inside, Phyllis is pretty damn flapped. Why? Because we’re at the home of none other than Miss Timid and Henrietta Higgins!
Miss Timid: My mother is having a hard day so she won’t be part of this conversation.
Phyllis: I explained to Proto-Cassie Stuart that your mom has dementia.
Miss Timid: We had to leave that building when they requisitioned the house as a nurses home. I’d assume the remains date to that time: all those young unmarried gals, living through a war, morals out the window.
Proto-Cassie Stuart, REALLY leaning into her recap name: Yeah… we were able to prove that the body was hidden earlier than that.
Miss Timid, finally crumbling: We had the linoleum put in by a company that guaranteed it for 20 years. What you should know is that there are two of them.
Phyllis, horrified: Two babies?
Proto-Cassie Stuart: Just let her talk.
Miss Timid, struggling to pour tea and explain this: The first we hid under the floorboards. The second, eighteen months later, we hid behind the flue. I don’t usually envy my mother; I didn’t then, when she was in so much pain. But now I do: she can’t remember what happened, but I can’t forget it.
Phyllis: No one knew she was pregnant? And no one could help?
Miss Timid: She was a respectable widow!
Proto-Cassie Stuart: Miss Timid, I really do need to talk to your mother.
Before we can do that, however, a brief break for your regularly scheduled labor and delivery drama. Specifically, we go to Mrs. Fleming, who calls up Nonnatus from the phone box outside her house and asks to speak to Sister Julienne: her labor is starting! Meanwhile, Proto-Cassie Stuart sits down with Henrietta Higgins to try and question her about the babies.
Henrietta Higgins: I remember my daughter? They said I couldn’t give her a flower name since she was a winter baby. There was snow on the window sill outside, like soap flakes.
Miss Timid, to Proto-Cassie Stuart: Don’t humiliate her.
Proto-Cassie Stuart: I won’t: I’m just giving her a chance to tell the truth, if she wants to. And if she can.
Miss Timid: She’s lived without telling anyone for 30 years. It was just the two of us this whole time; no one else needed to be involved.
It’s at this point that Phyllis asks to speak to Proto-Cassie Stuart in private. Why? Because since she had to help Henrietta Higgins collect a urine sample earlier in the episode, she had the opportunity to notice a pretty severe scar on Henrietta Higgins’ abdomen. The kind of scar that would likely be caused by a cesarean section.
Proto-Cassie Stuart: And?
Phyllis: And: if she had a c-section she most likely couldn’t have two subsequent home births at around the age of 40 with only her daughter there. You should probably call Dr. Turner to confirm.
Proto-Cassie Stuart: Oof. I will, but first I’ll call into my office.
Unfortunately, they confirm what Miss Timid said about the remains hidden in the flue with the assistance of A for Effort, who pulls a pillowcase containing the body of a second infant out of the chimney himself before handing it off to the waiting police. Back at the house, Dr. Turner has arrived to speak with Miss Timid.
Dr. Turner: Look, we checked the medical record, and we know that your mother’s only child was you. She had to have a hysterectomy immediately after you were born to save her life. It’s literally impossible that she had more children.
Miss Timid, breaking down: It was me. I gave birth to them, I was the one who hid them. I was the one who was supposed to be respectable, and she was the one who supported me.
And after that confession, they bring her into the station. Proto-Cassie Stuart clearly feels a bit conflicted, but at the end of the day, it’s her job to get an official statement.
Dr. Turner: I checked: Miss Timid was an inpatient at a psychiatric facility in the 50s — she was severely depressed, catatonic, and even stopped speaking.
Proto-Cassie Stuart: And nobody wondered why?
Dr. Turner: A good doctor will always wonder why, but it can take years to find the answer.
Phyllis: Can I sit with her while we wait for her lawyer at least? It might keep her calm.
Proto-Cassie Stuart: Yes, go for it.
Just a bummer all around. Meanwhile, across town, the Flemings have checked into the maternity home, where labor is progressing fairly slowly due to the baby’s position. While Mrs. Fleming labors, Dr. Turner and Trixie get ready in the delivery room.
Trixie: Look, what are the odds that this baby will have similar issues to their first?
Dr. Turner: If you believe the Ministry of Defense, zero. But based on what I saw last time and the research I’ve been doing? Not sure.
I sincerely hope everything goes better for this family this time around: I like them! And their episode last season was so sad! While labor continues, at the police station, Proto-Cassie Stuart questions Miss Timid under oath.
Proto-Cassie Stuart: Which baby was born first?
Miss Timid: The boy.
Proto-Cassie Stuart: Unfortunately, we can’t determine the sex of either set of remains. You’ll have to confirm the location of the body.
Miss Timid: The floor. The other one was a girl. The boy was born in fall of 1936: there were all these rumors about the King and Mrs. Simpson, and people were so horrible about her, I just couldn’t… I had an arrangement with a married man, who took advantage of me for several years. He’s the one you should investigate.
Proto-Cassie Stuart: Was he present at either birth?
Miss Timid: No, just my mother.
Proto-Cassie Stuart: And did either baby breathe?
This is the really important question: no matter what, everyone present at the birth can be punished under the 1861 Offences Against the Person Act that A for Effort mentioned earlier for concealing the birth (and BTW, it looks like that law is still in effect). If the baby was alive when it was born, Miss Timid could also be tried for murder.
Miss Timid: I don’t want to remember.
Proto-Cassie Stuart: They were your children. You have to.
Phyllis: I’m sorry, but I think she needs time to compose herself.
Miss Timid, sobbing: Both times they just lay there, silent.
Proto-Cassie Stuart: I want her seen by a psychiatrist.
At the maternity home, Mrs. Fleming feels ready to push, so Sister Julienne gets Dr. Turner to come take a look. The good news? The baby’s now in a great position for delivery, so Mrs. Fleming sends Dr. Turner to go fetch her husband. In the hall, Mr. Fleming is stressing about the unknowns of parenthood and desperately wishing for a cigarette, but instead joins everyone in the delivery room where Mrs. Fleming soon gives birth to a lovely and apparently totally healthy baby girl, who they name Elizabeth.
Mr. Fleming: I can’t believe our luck; with all the weird radiation, and whatever I might have passed on to her, she seems perfect.
Mrs. Fleming: She is! Because she’s ours.
Back at the police station, Dr. Turner gets an update from Proto-Cassie Stuart: Miss Timid is going to be released without charge. The psychiatrist had come to the conclusion that she’d never be able to stand trial, and Proto-Cassie Stuart claims that there just isn’t enough evidence, but I suspect she also agrees with Dr. Turner’s assessment that Miss Timid has been punished enough by her own guilt. In the next room, Miss Timid signs herself out of police custody. There does seem to be some weight off her shoulders, which makes sense given the enormity of this secret, but she’s still got a question left: will the police release the remains to her?
Yes, it turns out, and a few days later, A for Effort and Trixie visit a graveyard where they’ve been laid to rest. It’s a very nice place; certainly nicer than where the babies were found. Back at Nonnatus, Colette helps Boots in the garden with about as much excitement as you’d expect from a small child.
Boots: Look, see how the flowers aren’t all out yet? That’s like life — sometimes it takes a while for things to be ready. Like with us: there are some details about us that aren’t out yet.
Colette: Why?
Boots: Well, because if people knew the truth they might be unkind. Or keep us separate because we aren’t respectable. When I was 16 I did something that nobody thought was respectable: I had a baby, and I wasn’t married.
Colette, bless her heart: Where’s the baby now?
Boots: Oh, bless your heart.
And before she can say anything more, an ice cream truck arrives, so that’s the end of THAT conversation until frozen treats can be acquired. Ice cream in hand, Boots explains why she had to give Colette up, at least the broad strokes.
Boots: I wasn’t old enough to take care of you, or of me. But I am now, so I’m going to save up until I can support you like a mother should.
Colette: I thought I didn’t have a mother!
Boots: Well you do! You always have done: it’s me!
Colette, thankfully, seems pretty happy about this revelation, and understanding of why Boots is only telling this to her now, but I still predict some therapy down the road: that’s a lot for anyone to process! Across town, it’s Reggie’s birthday, and Sisters Julienne and Hilda have stopped by with presents and balloons. Alas, the celebrations are off to a rocky start: the TV is broken, so the Buckles won’t be able to watch the much anticipated Eurovision Song Contest.
Me: Oh, the TV is broken? Just in time for Eurovision?
Sister Hilda: What about the party?
Fred: I guess we could have cake and play cards?
Reggie: I’ll miss "Puppet on a String!"
Sister Julienne: No, absolutely not! Come to Nonnatus, and we’ll have the party there!
If Reggie and Fred didn’t break the TV so all their friends could watch the show I’ll eat my hat. Eat it, I say! Anyway, everyone has an amazing time watching the show, and our chicken pox afflicted friends are all on the mend: Sister Frances even gets to see the Fleming baby in her pram from the window of her sickroom. Another classic Call The Midwife episode on the books, and what a way to start the season! What happens next? We’ll just have to watch episode two to find out.
