Reader, somehow we find ourselves fast approaching the end of the season. Wild, I know! And there’s so much to sort out before we leave Poplar until Christmas: will the trainees stick around? Will Mr. Trixie ever tell his wife what the heck is going on with him? Will the Turners have to give up May? Much remains to be seen, but this week, we start off with a visit to Cyril, who’s studying for his social work gig. Next up, we head to Nonnatus, where Nancy tries to convince Sister Julienne to help her get her shift switched.
Sister Julienne: Come on, dude, you know Phyllis handles that.
Trixie: Yikes. If you’re tangling with Phyllis, I hope it’s for good reason.
Nancy: It is — there’s a big meeting for that group that’s organizing for increased wages. You know, the one we mentioned way earlier in the season that Phyllis hated?
Not only is Phyllis not going to want to approve the switch because she famously doesn’t agree with this movement, she’s also probably in a weird mood, having just finished a hospice shift where the patient died. Not ideal!
Across town, at the Turner house, Sister Veronica has come by with biscuits and sheet music for choir practice. Her plan? Get the kids singing a complicated song so that they get to learn something new. Shelagh’s reaction:
The two women and all the Turner kids head to the church to practice, and that’s how they happen to arrive just as the priest finds two young kids who have been abandoned there by their mother. It turns out to be a very good thing that Sister Veronica brought those cookies, because they help calm the kids down. Unfortunately, this means that they’ll have to do rehearsal at Nonnatus instead; Sister Veronica wants to summon the police to try and track down the kids’ mother.
Back at the hospice patient’s home, his daughter Gladys is keen to pack up all the medical supplies and get them out of her house: her daughter, you see, is about to give birth to her fifth child, and they need the space. While she tidies, she unearths a copy of Frankenstein, which has an inscription inside that says Gladys was a scholarship awardee.
Sister Monica Joan: Wow, how impressive!
Gladys: I only went for a term before I had to drop out to get a job to support the family. My dad was incredibly upset; he dreamed I’d stay in school. But I was good at my job, so. Anyway, that’s all cleaned up!
Sister Monica Joan: You know it’s ok to take a breather to grieve right?
Gladys: No thanks! I have work to do. And yes, I am going in today. Debt collection doesn’t take a day off!
Sure wish it would though, huh? Anyway, Sister Monica Joan is fairly scandalized by this, as I think she maybe should be. Everyone grieves differently, but I feel like Gladys isn’t actually letting herself process anything, and that’s not great.
At the social services office, Cyril and a colleague end up assigned to the case of the abandoned kiddos, who are now being examined by Dr. Turner and Sister Veronica. Both children have some minor issues like lice, but are a good weight: someone’s been taking pretty good care of them.
Cyril: They’re going to end up in a temporary placement.
Cyril’s Colleague: This is abandonment. It’s a crime, and we’re going to look into it that way.
Cyril introduces himself to the older kiddo, which goes only ok. Honestly, understandable, given that he’s just been abandoned, but still a tough day at work for our friend. He drops the kids off with their temporary caretaker, who seems to at least be a competent and thoughtful person. She takes all the paperwork and medicine that Cyril hands over, and gives him some bad news in return: if they don’t find someone to claim these kids, they’ll likely get separated due to their young age.
Back at Nonnatus, Sister Veronica arrives in time to hear the chorus’ disastrous attempt at the round she chose. And reader, when I say disastrous, I mean it. It’s so bad that Sister Veronica flees rather than stay to help.
While that’s happening, we get to see Gladys’ debt collecting in action, and reader, she’s intense. Gladys wasn’t kidding when she said she was good at her job! But there’s something amiss: after she takes her debt, she ducks into a side street and bends over in pain, clutching her abdomen. I don’t like the look of that, and kind of thought we’d have to wait for a while for answers, but her next stop is Dr. Turner’s surgery, where she goes to pick up her father’s paperwork so she can file a death certificate. While there, she gets another pain.
Dr. Turner, misreading the kind of pain Gladys is experiencing: I know it’s hard.
Gladys: Oh, no. Uh…
Dr. Turner: Is there something else?
There sure is, and that’s how Gladys ends up in an exam room. She’s got a sore and distended abdomen, and has had for some time. She didn’t come in sooner because being sick “isn’t my thing” which is low key hilarious. Dr. Turner is less amused: he’s referring Gladys to Gynecology at St. Cuthberts, right now. They need to find out what’s happening, because it could be serious.
Meanwhile, Mrs. Wallace hangs a poster with a picture of the abandoned boys on it. And Cyril turns up late to work. Why? Because he was at the magistrate’s office filing paperwork. Now that he’s here, he wants to call up the Irish families they have on file, hoping to learn something.
Cyril’s Colleague: Listen, some advice? You can do all that, but remember you have other cases too. It’s on you to figure out your time management.
As rebukes from coworkers go, this one isn’t bad. Want to hear one that is? Over at Mr. Trixie’s job, he’s just been told in a room full of coworkers that under his leadership his father’s company is on the brink of bankruptcy. In fact, the only reason they’re not completely underwater is a large donation from Mr. Trixie’s mom, the Dowager Lady Aylward (DLA, for short). What does Mr. Trixie have to say for himself?
Mr. Trixie: The company wasn’t in good shape when I inherited dad’s job. I did everything I could to stop the freefall.
DLA: You tried. That’s what you're saying?
Mr. Trixie: I tried the best I could.
DLA: Ok. Well we need to reassure the clients, so you’re off the board.
Mr. Trixie: I thought that might be the outcome, and I respect your decision.
DLA: Oh, honeybuns, there’s more. Your salary is going to be stopped.
Well that’s a kick in the pants. Mr. Trixie tries to talk to his mom after, but she’s not hearing it. Doesn’t he care how hard that was for HER?
Mr. Trixie: Mom, I wasn’t planning to ask you to change anything. I just wanted to apologize.
DLA: Your silly thing about selling those warehouses and your bad investments are not something I want to talk about.
Mr. Trixie: I wish I could take it back.
DLA: Why? You were a nice kind kid, and you’re a nice kind adult. That’s good. I just wish it hadn’t cost us all so much.
You know what’s even worse? Mr. Trixie for sure didn’t say anything about this to Trixie. Want to know how I know that? Because she’s standing at the car lot looking cute and sad and abandoned. Dude, I know being ousted is embarrassing, but you need to tell your wife this stuff!
Anyway, over at St. Cuthberts, the gynecologist finishes his exam, and concludes that Gladys’ issue may not be in his wheelhouse.
Gladys: Awesome, so I can go home?
Gyno: Oh, definitely not. I think you might be very seriously ill, and I’m sending you upstairs for further study.
Well I don’t like the sound of that! Meanwhile, over at Nonnatus, tea is interrupted by Sister Monica Joan, who announces that the abandoned kids are on the TV. This prompts a discussion on what it would take for a mother to abandon her children. Conclusion? Many possible reasons, and that we shouldn’t judge their mom.
At Trixie’s place, Mr. Trixie finally makes his very sheepish entrance. Trixie, who’s been waiting around for hours, is not happy.
Mr. Trixie: Trixie, there’s no car. There’s been a problem.
Trixie: But surely you can fix it!
Mr. Trixie: I can’t fix this. I’ve tried. But I failed.
Trixie: Want to tell me what happened?Mr. Trixie: I kept hoping I could figure this out without telling you.
Trixie, steeling herself: Well I think I need to know now. So. Out with it.
Mr. Trixie: I messed up the business. My dad had a method, which I didn’t use, and I took risks. Made bad investments. I just kept thinking I could make him proud, but instead I lost everything.
Trixie: Hold on, you can’t lose a business that’s been in your family for generations, right?
Mr. Trixie: Oh, I’ve heard that last part many times. But nonetheless, I’m out. I’m not on the board anymore. And I’m not on the payroll either. I’ve got no job and I’m broke.
Trixie: Sweetie, you’re not broke. WE are broke. We’re married, remember? We’re in this together!
For someone who famously likes material possessions, this is honestly better than I thought Trixie would take this. Now the real question is whether MR. Trixie can handle his change in circumstances.
Meanwhile, at Nonnatus, Phyllis accidentally walks in on Rosalind in the bathroom. But it’s ok: Rosalind is just studying in there in an attempt to not bother her roommate Joyce by keeping lights on all night.
Phyllis: Dude, it is LATE. Why are you so worried? Your work is good!
Rosalind: It’s not the material, it’s the way the exam is given! Having a whole panel of people poking holes in my stuff makes me nervous.
Phyllis: Don’t sweat it too much; it’s just to make sure you can speak clearly about your decisions, that’s all.
Rosalind: But that’s the problem! I was raised not to answer back, and now I have to do just that!
Phyllis: Well where I grew up, if you didn’t fight back you wouldn’t survive. Maybe I can help. Do you have any gym clothes?
As we all know, Phyllis is a huge fan of calisthenics, and her plan? It’s to make Rosalind do lil exercises whilst Phyllis quizzes her on exam questions.
Rosalind: This is cringe. What gives?
Phyllis: You’re fixating, and the exercise will distract you. We’re training you to be more nimble!
Joyce, walking past on her way to a shift: LOL, this is hilarious. Couldn’t be me, have fun!
Meanwhile, at Trixie’s place, she gets baby Jonty to go wash his face, and clears breakfast dishes.
Mr. Trixie, moping: I keep thinking about how bad his future looks 🙁
Trixie: Well put on a brave face, pal. He’s too little to care about stuff, so he won’t know what he’s missing unless you’re moping about it.
Mr. Trixie: At least he won’t have to deal with the stress of moving.
Trixie: Hang on. We’re not moving to that new apartment?
Mr. Trixie: Babe, I can’t get a mortgage anymore.
Trixie: But don’t you own this flat?
Mr. Trixie: Bad news: no. I own the lease, and it’s up in 5 years.
Trixie: I didn’t know that. But you know what, 5 years isn’t nothing, which means we have security until we can get things figured out, and a lot of people don’t even have that. Bright side! And now if you’ll excuse me I need to go get ready for work, i.e. cry somewhere private. Bye!
Poor Trixie. She’s handling this well, but it still isn’t fun news to hear! And speaking of not fun: across town, a young expecting mum wanders through the streets looking straight up wretched. She’s approaching the edge of the docks as if she has every intention to jump off, but before she can get over the edge, she collapses backwards onto a pile of shipping containers. What’s going on? We’ll have to wait to find out. First, we head to the surgery, where Dr. T gets the results of Gladys’ testing. The news? The worst kind: cancer, which can’t be treated.
Miss Higgins: Terrible, but a good reminder for all of us that cancer can get anyone out of the blue.
Dr. Turner: Usually, I’d agree, but this particular kind is only caused by one thing, and was probably avoidable.
Hate that! Dr. Turner packs up his medical bag and heads over to Gladys’ house to check on her, running into her son, who’s a promising soccer player, outside.
Dr. Turner: Just here to see your mom. How’s she doing, btw?
Galdys’ Soccer Son: Oh, great. She’s been better since they cured her at the hospital.
Dr. Turner:
Gladys’ Soccer Son: Yeah, we were all worried since she’s been so unwell lately, but when she read the results this morning she said it turns out she’s totally fine!
Dr. Turner isn’t really sure how to respond to that, so he just heads into the house. Inside, Gladys tells Dr. T that her son impressed the West Ham scouts, so she’s planning to buy a season ticket for next year.
Dr. Turner: Hey, just checking, did your doctor go over these results with you?
Gladys: Sure did! He said it’s going to get worse pretty quick. He’s got to be wrong though.
Dr. Turner: It’s a super rare kind of cancer, usually only caused by asbestos exposure.
Gladys: Yeah, and that’s how I know for sure I don’t have it! I’ve never even seen asbestos.
Dr. Turner: Gladys, you’re super sick.
Gladys: Ok, but nobody can do anything about that, can they?
Dr. Turner: You can’t be cured, but we can help! We’ll take care of you, ok? We don’t know how long you’ve got, but it might be longer if you stop trying to pretend it isn’t happening: we might be able to get you into a study on asbestos related cancers. Do you need time to think about it?
Gladys: I don’t have a lot of time lying around, pal. I’ll go to the meeting, but you have to promise not to tell my kids. They have things to do and I want them to be happy.
Outside, Trixie and Rosalind bike to their next appointment. Trixie, clearly still trying to stay in glass half full mode, points out that biking is great exercise, but Rosalind isn’t having it. She’s still sore from all those jumping jacks Phyllis made her do!
Rosalind: Anyway, I bet you can’t wait to get your new car! I thought you were picking it up yesterday?
Trixie: … things didn’t go as planned.
Trixie’s saved from having to answer more questions than she’s ready for by a hubbub as they turn the corner: they’ve stumbled upon the spot where that expecting mum we saw earlier collapsed. Our midwife pals spring into action, and whisk the woman, who’s name is Deirdre, to the maternity home. There, they find out that she’s just past her due date, and while the baby’s heart rate sounds good, Deirdre’s does not. Dr. Turner thinks she might be anemic, and bemoans the fact that she won’t share any info about her prenatal care. But Rosalind soon figures out a possible reason for Deirdre’s silence: she’s got a ribbon in her pocket that matches the ones that were tied around the foundling boys from earlier.
Deirdre, cracking immediately: YES ok they’re my kids! I couldn’t look after them, but I didn’t want to leave them. Please tell me they’re ok? Please?
Out in the hallway, the team discusses Deirdre’s situation. Her health is quite bad, and she’s not in a good place to handle labor. Unfortunately, if she’s right about her due date, labor is going to happen soon, ready or not. The plan: they’ll start treating her for scabies and anemia, in addition to giving her a high calorie diet and sedatives at night to help her rest. Dr. Turner also wants to get a psychiatric consultation, given that Deirdre seems to be clinically depressed.
Trixie: She’s obviously in a horrible spot. And the cops are going to want to talk to her once they realize she’s here.
Dr. Turner: No cops until I say.
Trixie: Rosalind, why don’t you run her a bath? That’s at least something nice we can do right away.
As Rosalind prepares Deirdre for her bath, the two talk.
Deirdre: I tried so hard to keep the kids clean. I figured if I did that, God might help us.
Rosalind: I think everyone can see that you tried your best. And none of us know how hard everything was.
Not yet, but we start to get a picture pretty quickly: when Rosalind helps Deirdre out of her shirt, she immediately spots some massive welts on the other woman’s back. Deirdre’s husband beat her badly, and after she took the kids with her to the hospital for care, she didn’t go back home and instead immigrated to Poplar.
Across town, Gladys arrives at the asbestos study intake meeting. Based on her work history, the organizer can’t connect her to any of the known asbestos sites in town, so they ask about her parents. It turns out that her dad, who just passed away, was a drill operator who would have been exposed to asbestos daily. He wouldn’t have had any way of knowing that when he rushed home every night to put his daughter to bed, he was exposing her to a fatal carcinogen. The only good news? The study doesn’t have any patients with secondary exposure — like Gladys — yet, so they’re eager to add her. The treatment they’re studying won’t cure her, but they might keep her alive several months longer.
Gladys: Yeah, but alive like what? In pain? Sick? Making my kids take care of me?
Dr. Turner: We can go over all of that.
Gladys: No thank you. I’m so tired. I don’t have fight left in me, and I don’t want any treatment.
You know what, with this prognosis? Understandable. This whole thing totally sucks but Gladys deserves to make the decision for herself. Anyway, over at the maternity home, Cyril meets with Deirdre.
Cyril: I’m here to ask about your injuries. Did you go to the police?
Deirdre: What could they do that wouldn’t make it worse? I moved to a whole different country; that seemed safer. I must have been pregnant when I left. I knew I could get an abortion here, but then I couldn’t figure out where. And honestly I’m glad I didn’t.
Cyril: It must have been so hard for you here on your own. You could have come to us at the welfare office; that’s what we’re here for!
Deirdre: I kept thinking I’d be able to solve it for myself. But I just got closer and closer to my due date. And then I couldn’t pay the rent, so the landlord kicked me out.
Cyril: And that’s when you left the boys at the church.
Deirdre: I hated it, but I had to get them somewhere better. I love them so much.
Cyril: I believe you. And we are going to do everything we can to find the best solution for you.
Deirdre: Can I have them back? Can I keep this one?
Those are the million dollar questions, aren’t they? Later, Cyril’s going over his notes in the hallway when Rosalind comes out to join him. He’s clearly having a hard time, and explains why: the boys are about to be placed in a more permanent foster situation, and Deirdre is clearly not going to be in a place where she can take care of them herself for some time. She’s also not in a good place to take care of the new baby. Cyril isn’t the only one who will have to make this call, but that doesn’t make it any easier. It’s just a sad situation all around.
Back at Nonnatus, Sister Julienne asks Phyllis some questions about the rota. Specifically, if Rosalind really is the best person to be with Deirdre at the maternity home.
Phyllis: Rosalind has all the skills needed to make a good midwife. Her problem is a lack of confidence; she’s always looking for affirmation from us. If she’s going to learn how to do things on her own, it needs to be in a hard, complex case like this one. Trial by fire baby!
Fair enough! Meanwhile, at Gladys’ house, she sets the record straight with her kids over breakfast.
Gladys: Look, I lied to you guys, and I’m only telling you now because I need to get everything sorted before I die. I don’t want any tears. I am going to see that you’re all as provided for as I can make you, and you, Soccer Son, you keep going to practice. Until I die I’m in charge.
At the maternity home, Deirdre is starting to look a lot better. Her baby still hasn’t shown any sign of making an appearance.
Deirdre: I know it’s silly, but I want to keep it so much. I want us all to be together like a real family.
Rosalind: Ok, then we’re going to need to do everything we can to convince everyone that you can handle that.
I worry that they’re both getting their hopes up only to be disappointed, but time will tell.
Meanwhile, at Trixie’s, she’s just hung up the phone when Mr. Trixie gets home.
Trixie: I think I might have some good news for you. I remembered I had a contact who’s a QC, and I called him up. He’s got an opening in his chambers!
Mr. Trixie, mad: I can’t believe you did that!
Me: What, networked your fool butt into a job? Come on dude.
Trixie: Yeah, what she said! I told you we’d find a way, and I might have done it. What gives?Mr. Trixie: I haven’t told anyone about this yet! I need time to think it over! And to plan how to fix this for us with dignity intact! And now I find out you’ve been telling our family and friends and begging for help behind my back?
Trixie: Behind your back? You’ve been lying to me for this entire SEASON of TELEVISION!
Mr. Trixie: Have not! I’ve been ~*~ protecting you ~*~.
Trixie: Babe, I’m your wife. We’re supposed to be in this together, good times and bad!
Mr. Trixie: We can’t! Money is just a fun thing for you, with your trips, and your shopping, and your floundering nuns!
Trixie: Look, I have been frivolous about spending, but the Nonnatus and Poplar stuff was something YOU did on your own.
Mr. Trixie: I did. It made me a better man, but not a smarter or richer one. And now I know what it’s like when your life is over.
Trixie: I’m still right here, dude.
Mr. Trixie: I guess.
And then he leaves, like a petulant baby, while Trixie sobs. Hey, guess what man, you were already on thin ice due to your posh rich boy nonsense. Now? Friendship over. Trixie deserves better! UGH.
Anyway, let’s not dwell on Mr. Trixie’s nonsense right now. Instead, let’s hang out with Deirdre and Rosalind on a park bench. They’ve packed sandwiches and arranged a meet up with Deirdre’s older kids, chaperoned by Cyril. It’s a very sweet moment! Deirdre takes the kids to the grass to play, leaving Cyril and Rosalind to banter about sandwiches. Side note reader: yes, I have been noticing the flirty energy there, and no, I don’t know how to feel about it! I’m ride or die for Lucille, but also I want Cyril to be happy. Anyway, just know that I see it too, and we’ll talk about it more if there’s more to discuss. But there isn’t time for too much sandwich talk anyway: Deirdre just shouted in pain, which suggests to me that it’s probably labor time. Deirdre tries to play it off, but Rosalind isn’t buying it. She has Cyril get the kids, and wheels Deirdre back to the maternity home asap.
Across town, Gladys’ son finds a letter from the study doctor, and asks his mum about it. If there are injections, won’t that help? Gladys explains that they’ll only prolong her life a bit, and she doesn’t feel like it’s worth it.
Gladys’ Soccer Son: Respectfully? That sucks to hear. Bye!
Yeah, fair enough. Back at the maternity home, Sister Julienne and Rosalind coach Deirdre through labor, which is not progressing as quickly as it should.
Rosalind: It’s almost like her body is trying to keep the baby inside as long as possible.
Sister Julienne: Yeah, she’s been through a lot. What can we do to help?
Rosalind: We need to rupture her membranes.
Sister Julienne: I agree.
It works: almost immediately Deirdre starts to feel like pushing. Pretty soon, she’s got a baby girl, and Sister Julienne's got more respect for Rosalind. Deirdre promises her baby she’ll do whatever it takes to take care of her, which is extremely sweet but also has me worried: this might not be entirely in her hands. Speaking of which: over at the welfare office, Cyril’s still ruminating on his recommendation for Deirdre’s kids. He’s having a horrible time of it, and finally just puts his pen down to go for a walk.
Back at the surgery, Gladys’ Soccer Son is in Dr. Turner’s office getting treated for a sprained hand. Why? Because he was in a fight at practice. Dr. Turner gives him a tiny talking to, which obviously doesn’t get to the actual root of the issue: he’s having trouble with his mum’s diagnosis. After our young sportsman leaves, Dr. Turner tells Gladys that he thinks her son is just acting out because he wants more time with her. Meanwhile, Gladys’ Soccer Son has accidentally bumped into Sister Monica Joan outside.
Sister Monica Joan: Hey, punk: watch where you’re going!
Gladys’ Soccer Son, crying: I’m not crying!
Sister Monica Joan: Look, we all cry. It takes courage to let it out like that.
Gladys’ Soccer Son: Yeah, well I used to think my mom was brave. And now I know she’s a coward. I only want to play professionally if she’s there to see it, but she doesn’t want to live a little bit longer, not even for me!
Sister Monica Joan doesn’t have time to formulate a response to that, because he runs off almost immediately.
Later, at Nonnatus, Phyllis tells the trainees that they’re all off duty tonight: the exam is tomorrow, so they can either rest or study, but that’s it. She also hands them all really cute good luck cards.
Meanwhile, Shelagh, arriving at church to plan for choir practice, runs into Cyril. He was looking for a quiet place to think and pray, and is now on his way home. Shelagh asks if he’s thinking about those kids, which he obviously is.
Cyril: I’ve decided there isn’t a perfect solution.
Shelagh: Yeah, there never is. I’ve seen that with my own kids, including May.
Cyril: I took this job to help families, and I feel like instead I’m breaking one.
Shelagh: You’re not breaking it; you’re helping find a way to fix it.
The next morning, Cyril visits Deirdre at the maternity home. No, he’s not there to take her baby away; she can stay with Deirdre. He’s found benefits that will allow Deirdre to stay in supervised housing so she can get help if she needs it. Unfortunately, the boys will not be there, at least not right away: the welfare team needs to be sure that she can cope. Deirdre finally says that she knows this is sensible, but that doesn’t mean she likes it. Nonetheless, she asks Cyril to sit down and talk her through the plan.
Later, Sister Monica Joan stops by Gladys’ house. It takes Gladys a minute to get to the door, because she’s started to need a stick to walk with: something Sister Monica Joan understands well.
Gladys: People used to be scared of me when I would walk down the street. Now they feel sorry for me. I hate it.
Sister Monica Joan: You’re the same person as ever; fearless.
Gladys: No, now cancer’s made me powerless.
Sister Monica Joan: Then take it back! Go down as you’ve lived: fighting. Claw back that extra time for the people you love!
Over at the maternity home, Rosalind pops in to check on Deirdre.
Rosalind: I know the news that the boys have to stay in foster care isn’t what you hoped.
Deirdre: I need to accept it. I can’t give them what they need right now. I’m scared that they’ll forget me though, and I don’t want them to be scared.
Rosalind: We can write them a letter. Cyril will get it to them.
Deirdre: But I have a lot to say, and you just finished your shift!
Rosalind: Nonsense, I have all night.
Look, does she have exams to worry about? Yes! But I also suspect Rosalind is the kind of person who might be less anxious if she’s too tired to worry about failing, so maybe this is a win-win.
Ready to deal with Mr. Trixie’s nonsense some more?
I’m honestly not either, but we must press on, for Trixie’s sake. She finds her husband worrying over a huge pile of documents at the dining table.
Trixie: Is there a lot left to do?
Mr. Trixie: You’d think being broke would just happen, but yes, there’s a lot to sort out.
Trixie: Show me.
Once again here to say that Mr. Trixie needs to be way cooler about his wife, who had every reason to abandon him to his need to feel petulant and alone in the world, but instead is here trying to help untangle the mess he made. The situation is dire: they have nothing coming in except Trixie’s wages. The only bright spot is that Nonnatus house is safe, but that’s only because Mr. Trixie signed the deed over to Sister Julienne. Right?
So that’s a horrifying revelation! On the plus side, the future of Nonnatus’ midwives is strong: Rosalind is doing a great job on her exam (and we know Joyce will absolutely crush hers). But what will the final result be? The entire Nonnatus team waits outside the house for the post to come with bated breath. While Sister Julienne hands over the results, she tells Joyce and Rosalind that they worked very hard, and it’s been a pleasure to teach them. And as they open their successful results and hug, Sister Julienne offers them both permanent jobs at Nonnatus, which they immediately accept.
And with that, we come to the conclusion of the episode. The choir performs (much more successfully then they did at rehearsal). Gladys decides to enter the clinical trial, and is escorted to treatment by her son. Deirdre takes her baby for a walk in the sunshine with a smile on her face. And the newly minted midwives bike off into the sunset, not a care in the world. What will next week bring? We’ll just have to wait and see!
