- Ready? - You're crazy.
Yeah.
Neal! Look, this is a wind-up, isn't it?
No, not this time. I'm gonna do it.
I can't believe you're doing this and I'm helping. I want my head examined!
- I am gonna do it. - I'm gonna hate myself, you know that.
- For the rest of my life. - Shut up.
They're gonna throw away the key.
Neal, you don't have to do this.
- Can I help you? - Yeah. Do you sell rings?
- Brilliant. Course he sells rings. - Well, I'd like to buy one, please.
An engagement ring.
Well, is there anything special you have in mind?
Yes, we thought one of them secret ones with a compartment for the cyanide pill.
Nah. Something fairly cheap. Well, not cheap, but not expensive.
- Not cheap and not expensive? - Yeah.
- Yes. - Look...
I see, sir. Well, I think we'll have something that will interest you.
It was supposed to be a straightforward maintenance settlement.
If that's Ros when she's straightforward, I'd had to see her being complicated.
Straightforward, equitable maintenance settlement.
Mind you, compared to the judge, Ros looked like Mother Teresa.
I thought he'd whip on the black cap
and have your entrails left on the city gates to rot.
- What am I gonna do? - Appeal?
- You heard my solicitor. - Worse than useless, Ewart.
He was cowering under the table like a toy poodle.
I've still got to pay him. If I go to another, the whole awful business will start again.
(Charlie) Can you afford the settlement? (Ewart) It's not whether I can afford it.
(Ewart) I can survive, yeah.
- (Man) Hiya, fellas. - (Beeps horn)
Ooh, she's in love!
- And he's all mine! - Workers of the world unite, eh?
- Sorry? - I said, workers of the world unite.
You look like a free gift in a packet of cornflakes.
I thank you, Megan.
- How did it go in court? - Ewart got skinned.
I called the judge a petty functionary with the worldview of a myopic bat.
- You did not, did you? - No, I didn't. I wish I had, though.
- How he'll afford it, I don't know. - I won't cry over Ewart's finances.
I don't blame Ros for skinning him. I'd do the same...
- Charlie, you got a minute? - After all, he's not poor.
Congratulations, by the way, Karen. Cyril told me.
- (Duffy) Just told you what? - She passed her exam.
- Well done! - Brilliant!
(Charlie)Told you so. (Duffy) Did you get a percentage?
- Yeah, 83. - (Megan) 83 per cent?
- (Duffy) What did Cyril get? - Er, 60-something.
Yeah?
How am I supposed to examine a patient and do their reflexes
when they've got a pair of socks...
- Hi. - Hi, Kuba.
So...have you told 'em yet?
Er, no, I want to talk to Charlie first.
- Cyril, am I making the right decision? - I told you yesterday.
I know, but tell me again.
You're making the right decision.
- I'll see you later. - Bye-bye.
- Elizabeth. - Hi.
Just a minute. I've been trying to call you.
I was...er...out.
- Didn't do too well. - I know. I was there.
I shouldn't have gone, but I didn't know Charlie would be there.
I thought you might need somebody afterwards.
Charlie came at the last minute. I mean, I...
Oh, be honest. I'm not being honest.
Actually, I couldn't keep away.
I had to see what...er...Ros looked like.
- (Woman) Hello, Ewart? - I can't talk now. I'm still here.
- Erm...can we meet later? - I'll be in my office.
- We'll have supper. - Yeah.
Er... Erm, sorry. Sorry about that.
- Paul, where have you been? - Up James's house.
What you been doin' up James's? You never said you were going!
- Playing. - But why didn't you ring me, eh?
You know I get frightened to death when you're out so late! You are unkind to me!
- (Mother continues berating boy) - (Man upstairs) Speech, speech!
- (Scott) Come on, Neal... - (Mother shouting at boy)
(Neal) A very quick one. (Scott) At times like this,
there is only one course of action to take.
- Go to the offy... - (Both men) ...get more wine!
(Laughter)
They do this cheeky little Tasmanian Mosel.
Which, nevertheless, is not the same class as their British white wine.
You wake up, you can't feel your feet!
When I wake up, I don't wanna feel YOUR feet!
Oi, oi, oi, that's mine!
That's what flatmates are for!
It's gonna be interesting when you start living with her!
Oi!
If you don't stop rabbiting, they'll be closed.
Why is it always the same, eh? Nag, nag, nag.
I mean, we're not even married yet. Yes, dear, no, dear.
Three bags full, dear.
(Laughter)
- You'll miss him, won't you? - Nah.
- He leaves the cap off the toothpaste. - (Doorbell)
(Man) All right, mate?
You're late.
I was held up.
Nice place you have here.
Get on with it.
One medical trauma bed. Fractured tib and fib.
- And that's for John Evans who's 19. - (Woman) John...
Can the abdo pain in 6 have an MSU, please?
Been done. It's on its way to the lab.
- You told me when I left the house... - I know.
- Anything else? - I need a female medical bed, as well.
- That's for a Mrs Ellis. - Ellis.
Ellis, yes. She's 68.
CVA, unconscious with a dense right-sided paresis.
- A dense what? - A dense right-sided paresis.
You forgot these.
- What? - The invites for our anniversary.
Be a love and hand them round. I'm rushed off my feet.
I can't go round Casualty handing out invites.
- Are you doing anything else? - Megan...
- Just do it, Ted, will you? - No bed at the moment.
She's been here for three hours already!
..until they call, OK?
(Megan) Call me when you've transferred somebody.
Honestly, you'll be telling me that taxi crashed itself.
The cab is being fixed. I couldn't borrow one for tonight. I'm doing my best, OK?
- Oh, yeah? - You wanted this soddin' party!
- (Mary) Megan, can I have an airway? - Coming.
You see, I told him it wouldn't fit.
- Can always get a piece put in. - We should've taken your finger with us!
Here, come here.
Give us the ring.
It'll be strange for you, though, when he moves out.
I'll put it down to ingratitude, really.
You stick a notice on the student union board offering shelter and succour
to the first undergraduate waif who can get the Â£7.50 rent and what happens?
Nine years later, he steals the woman of your dreams out from under your duvet!
"Is this the function of the university in post-industrial society?" I ask myself.
I wouldn't have been good for you.
Well, if I promise not to tell, would you be bad for me?
Very bad!
(Women laughing)
Neal? Hi.
- Hello, Julie. All right? - Congratulations.
- About what? - Didn't you get engaged today?
- Oh, that. Yeah, I did, as it happens. - Jenny.
You know Jenny. You was at school with her.
Course she's gonna take you for every penny she can get.
I was faithful to that woman for 23 years.
Not around much, I admit, but faithful.
Today they painted me like some kind of a seedy, decrepit Don Juan.
Ros threw me out, Ros ended the marriage, Ros is divorcing me.
Suddenly I'm the dirty old man who was the cause of it all.
She's jealous of every bit of happiness I can get. She hates you.
Listen...
this doesn't sound very nice
and I know I'm guilty of snooping or I wouldn't even know it.
The fact is you can afford what she's asking
and the sooner you stop feeling hurt, betrayed...
the sooner we can get on with our lives.
Assuming, that is, you're still interested in an inveterate spy.
- Take care. Say hello to your mum. - Yeah, I will do.
- See you. - Yeah, bye.
Julie?
- Expect he's nipped in for a quick pint. - He's probably done a runner!
(Suzanne Vega) * I am sitting in the morning
* At the diner on the corner
* I am waiting at the counter... *
Well, it's...just you and I, then.
And the music.
The night.
Would you like to dance?
- Can't dance to this. - Come on.
- Try. - * ..the woman who has come in
* She is shaking her umbrella
* And I look the other way as they are kissing their hellos... *
- You see, we're dancing, we're dancing. - Oh, yeah.
What were you saying?
- I'm trying my best! - (Jenny laughs)
- (Jenny) Oh, Fred Astaire! - Ginger Rogers, eat your heart out!
Smells like marzipan, doesn't it?
The funny thing is...
I couldn't stand the stuff as a kid.
Marzipan, that is.
I could eat every chocolate in the box
and leave the marzipan ones.
I'd even suck the chocolate coating off and leave the centres!
I really hated the stuff.
Are you out of your mind?
Who do you think you are?
Pancho Villa?
This isn't dynamite. You don't light the fuse and chuck this stuff.
We're in the 1980s now.
(Laughter)
(Music plays softly)
One good thing's come out of all this. At least we don't have to hide any more.
What are you laughing at?
You think people don't realise.
What? We've been pretty quiet.
(Giggles)
Ewart, if we had rampaged round the hospital in fluorescent pink nighties,
we couldn't be more conspicuous.
Oh, who cares?
It's over.
- It's over, it's over, over. - It's over.
(Sade) * In heaven's name, why are you walking away?
* Hang on to your love... *
Detonate by using this transmitter.
But remember, you have to arm it first.
Otherwise you can sit around pressing your tit on that to kingdom come.
Have you... Have you got all that?
Yeah.
- Are you sure? - Yes.
Show me.
(Whirring)
(Ticking)
(Plays tunelessly on mouth organ)
- (Woman) Paul, are you in bed yet? - Yeah.
(Whistles joyfully)
(Ticking)
(Ticking stops)
Mummy!
- What in God's name was that? - (Mary) Just relax your legs.
- There's nothing wrong with you. - I... I'm in pain.
Mr Wright, you've had an X-ray.
I've checked you over and there's nothing I can find wrong with you.
If you took the laxative your GP prescribed, you wouldn't be in pain.
- Understood? - I've paid for my National Health Service
all of a very long life
and here I am, when I come and ask for a bit of help...
(Mary) He can go now.
(Karen) You can go home. (Man) Are you sure that doctor knows...
That woman's getting too professional for her own good.
Come on, that old geezer's a pain in the butt.
That doesn't give her the right to treat him like he's not in pain.
- She wasn't. - (Radio) Holby Control to Casualty.
Holby Control to Holby Casualty.
- I've got it. - OK.
All I'm saying is constipation is as important to that old geezer
as any fancy fracture or clever-clever diagnosis.
- You said she was a good doctor. - She is.
It's just she's so cold.
All received. Holby Casualty standing by. Out.
Hang on, Duffy.
There's been an explosion in Cavanagh Road. Sounds bad.
If it becomes a major incident, Ambulance Control will get back onto us.
In the meantime, I've put the department on standby.
They've sent out three ambulances and they want a flying squad.
Mary, that means you and Duffy. I'll get Ewart to cover for you.
Let's see if we can get rid of some of these patients.
- I've just discharged one. - OK, that's good.
- Cyril, number three up to the ward. - Right.
Karen, number six is ready to go home.
- Megan, can you bleep Ewart? - Yep.
- What happens next? - Control send an ambulance for us.
- Never done this before. - We'll need the flying squad gear.
(Megan) A fast bleep for Ewart Plimmer, please, OK? Thank you.
You won't need those. Everything's in the packs.
- Have you done this before? - Once.
We'll need helmets.
(Phones ringing)
Don't use the major accident bumf yet. Wait till we hear more.
- What's the news? - Explosion.
- I heard it. - We're on standby.
Mary and Duffy are going out so if you wouldn't mind covering.
- Sure. - (Old man grumbles)
..is on its way, minor casualties.
Cuts from flying glass mainly, a few OAPs in shock.
No dead yet, but looks like we're gonna have a busy night.
(Old man) I don't want to go home.
If there's any possibility that you can go to Queens, I suggest that you do.
- Do you like the frock? - Good luck, Duffy.
Unless it's serious, you'll have a long wait.
- Philip, Straker here. - (Phone rings)
- I heard it. - Casualty.
I'll stick around in case we get press.
- What? - She's been transferred to Ward 22.
- Hold the line, I'll put you through. - Well, I'm here if I'm needed.
(Siren)
3002 to Control.
- We're mobile with Holby's team. Over. - (Man) Received.
For the duration of the incident in Cavanagh Road, all units use channel 2.
For the duration of the incident in Cavanagh Road...
(Siren)
(Man) Get that child moved and stand by.
- OK, guv. - (Inaudible comment)
- Get the police to handle it. - We're checking neighbouring buildings.
From what I can see, they've both got weakened floors.
OK, well, keep an eye on them and get everybody out sharpish.
There were four flats in all.
According to one of the neighbours, a Nigerian couple lived on the top.
They think they were away for the evening. No confirmation yet.
Middle flat, two young blokes shared there.
The ground floor was occupied by a Miss Harris.
She kept herself to herself, apparently.
A Miss Beavis in the basement got home about seven, may have gone out again.
Thanks.
I don't want anybody to be allowed back in this area. I don't care who they are.
We're the medical team from Holby Accident Unit.
- Straight down, they're waiting for you. - OK, thanks.
- (Fire alarms ring) - (PA system) Due the unstable condition
of surrounding properties and gardens
the whole of Cavanagh Road will now be evacuated.
Please immediately obey
all police instructions.
Thank you.
God!
(Boy cries) Mummy, Mummy!
Mummy! Mummy!
(Woman) He says he can't see, he can't see nothing.
- Don't worry. Charlie! Don't worry. - (Woman) I can't hear nothing.
Is he gonna be blind for the rest of his life?
- Oh, my God! - I know you're upset...
Soddin' Gas Board.
- Mummy... - Get me 10mls of promethazine syrup.
- Mummy! - Gonna get your mummy.
I'm the doctor and we're going to get you better and we're going to stop it hurting.
- All right, Paul, all right. - (Charlie talks soothingly)
All right, that's fine. Now, Paul, Paul, can you open your eye for me?
- Can you see my fingers? - (Megan) Look who we have here.
Your mummy's here.
OK? I'm gonna ask you to swallow a bit of this liquid for me, a little sip.
- (Boy cries) - OK?
Just a little sip. Aw, come on, just one small, little sip for me.
- Come on, Paul, it's lovely. I've had it. - Do you want to try?
Come on, love.
- Will you drink it, love? Come on. - That's a good lad.
Good boy!
Just hold still for a minute. I'm just going to shine a light on your eye.
Oh, that's lovely. Has he had any serious illnesses in the past?
- No. - Is he up-to-date with his school jabs?
Yeah.
Charlie, this needs to be hooked up.
Would you give the ophthalmic registrar a buzz?
- Mrs...er...? - It's all right.
- Mrs...? - Lippman.
It looks nasty, but it's not as bad as it looks.
But I would like another doctor to have a look at his eye.
- Is he gonna be all right? - Oh, I think so, but I just want to be sure.
You'll have a special badge our porter gives out
to very, very brave little boys like you, OK?
- What's he doing? - It's a heat-seeking camera.
- Eh? - That thing he's holding.
It detects all kinds of heat, including body heat.
This your first time?
You'll be OK. I'm here!
(Man shouts) Station Officer!
Why am I feeling squeamish? Never felt squeamish before.
- You haven't got your props with you. - What?
Cardiac machines, clean floors, lights, bleeps.
You'll be fine.
Just remember to take everything a bit at a time.
Just worry about what's right in front of you and keep busy. That helps.
Doctor.
Mind your step.
OK?
- How many have died so far? - We've had a serious incident...
- Are any relatives here in the hospital? - We'll make a statement in due course.
Could you please wait in the main reception area on Level 2?
- (Both fire questions) - We'll make a statement in due course.
Put that cigarette out. This is a hospital.
I've never seen so much top brass.
The married couple from 104 on the ground floor,
but there is some doubt about the inhabitants of the top floor.
Apart from that, the adjoining houses are clear. Yeah.
- Any news from the thin blue line? - Three dead so far.
Maybe more when they stick the bits together.
Oh, er, the word is it was a bomb. Yeah, hang on.
Preliminary investigations would tend to suggest
that that this was not a gas explosion.
I will need to await detailed forensic evidence
before I can definitely state the case.
We have ascertained that the woman renting the ground floor bed-sitter
was living under the assumed name of Pauline Harris.
She was five-foot-four with medium wavy hair of medium length
and spoke with a pronounced Northern Ireland accent.
We believe she may have recently separated from her husband
and moved from Belfast to Holby about eight weeks ago.
I would ask that anyone with any information of any kind
or any suggestions regarding her identity,
contact the incident room as soon as possible
on Holby 422432.
(Policeman) The body was discovered at 02:15 hours.
It's now being removed and taken to Holby City Hospital.
(Voice and crackling on police radios)
(Fireman) Can you hear me?
(Fireman shouts) Can you hear me?
Can you hear me?
(Shouts) Can you hear me?
We cannot identify the casualty, we shall have to send a team in
and see if we can extricate the body. Bravo 77. Over.
Well received there, Bravo 77. Standing by. Over.
Fractured water main. Bravo 77. Over.
Are they alive?
There's only one way to find out.
Hello. Mr Davisson? Your mother's going to be fine.
She wasn't injured in the explosion, but she is suffering from very nasty shock.
We'll keep her in for a couple of nights until she settles down, OK?
- Where is she? - Round the corner in a cubicle.
- She will be moved to a ward. - I wanna see her.
That's fine. Just follow me, will you?
Bring in a fresh nightie for her tomorrow and some toilet things.
We have given her a sedative so best not wake her.
She'll be fine tomorrow if you'd like to come back.
The visiting hours are very flexible, but the ward like you to avoid meal times.
People often look pale when they've had a shock. There's nothing wrong with her.
- And what about you, eh? - Me? I'm sorry, I don't understand.
What about you?
- You're Irish, aren't you? - Yes.
- Are you proud? Are you? Proud? - Well...
Do you like what you did? Do you like what you did to my mother?
- Cyril, can you... - Did you like it? Did you?
Mr Davisson, I don't understand what you're saying.
My mother's an old woman and you animals come over here...
- Hold your horses... - I'll tell you what I'd like to do
to all you Irish and your IRA filth!
- I'd like to show you what it's like! - I can understand that you're upset.
- But I can assure you... - Assure me? You bog-Irish bitch!
- Come on! - Get off!
Get of me, you filthy bastard!
(Confused shouting)
Ask her what she done to my mother! That's my mother lying there!
- You Irish cow! - Calm down, calm down.
- All right? - Yeah.
Right.
- Are you all right? - (Old lady) Where's my son?
All right.
What the hell was that all about?
Nothing.
Everybody's all right.
Everybody's very happy.
Patients come in, patients go out.
One night, one of them is going to turn round
and say...thank you.
That patient
will get in the Guinness Book Of Records.
Mrs Davisson is OK, but a bit distressed. Get her up to a ward as soon as you can.
- Right. - OK.
- Megan, are you all right? - Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine, thanks.
I just...just needed a little break, OK? I'm fine.
You don't look all right.
Is it because of that chap?
Yeah.
Oh, it's not the Irish bitch bit.
No, if I had a fiver every time that's been flung at me in the last 1 7 years...
No, it's not that.
It's...er...
Erm...
It's the whole package, Ewart.
- The hysterectomy... - You're clear now.
Oh, come on, you and I know more than anybody how easily that can recur.
No, it's...er...
It's... It's just everything.
Myself and Ted.
The wedding anniversary.
The kids.
And I'm moonlighting in a private clinic, which doesn't help.
And I'm tired, God knows I'm tired.
It's not that either.
It's...er...
I'm not getting any younger, Ewart.
I know I've said that so many times, but I really know it today.
I really know it.
It's... It's...
It's like, you know, that you're not on the outward journey any more.
It's...er...
It's like everything that's to be expected from life, I've...I've had already.
You know, like...
like marriage and kids.
Yeah.
Nothing left to expect, Ewart.
It just...just hit me today.
(Sniffs) Just came to me.
I've had my innings.
And, do you know,
there doesn't seem to have been very much to it.
Nothing like I thought it would be.
I'll get back to work in a minute, OK?
Yeah.
Would you just let me have one more minute on my own, please?
Thanks.
There's a bloke and he's alive.
There's, like, banisters lying over him. Probably the stairwell.
We'll have to come down from the top. It could take a couple of hours.
- Did you get a pulse? - Yeah, there's something there.
Two hours.
- I think I should go in. - Too dangerous.
I still think I should go. He may not last till you get him out.
Well?
OK, my men will go with you. If there's anything you need, shout it up the line.
Look, I'll be right here so just shout if you need anything, all right?
All right.
- All right, love? - Yeah.
- OK, love, follow me. - All right.
Good luck.
Thanks.
(Mary coughs)
(Mary) All right?
(Mary) Ooh! Sod it!
- (Mary gasps) - Don't worry about it.
Follow my light.
OK.
- Is this safe? - Safe? Safe as houses!
(Man) Ow! Jeez! Steady, steady, steady, steady, steady, steady, steady.
Let me get across first and if I get across safely, you will, too.
(Man) All right? I'm a bit old-fashioned so I should go first.
(Mary) God.
- He's still alive, then? - Yeah.
(Coughs) We'll need an airway.
Ask the nurse to send down a unit of Haemocell
and a large-bore cannula.
(Man) Airway, large-bore cannula and one fluid unit of Haemocell.
That's it.
(Man shouts) Airway, large-bore cannula,
and one fluid unit of Haemocell.
(Duffy) Airway, large-bore cannula, and a unit of Haemocell.
- (Man) Right. - Just gonna cut through some of this.
- Oh, God, sorry. - It's OK, you can do this.
Sorry.
A doctor sent a message for Entonox down the line once.
12 firemen, one after the other, like Chinese whispers.
Five minutes later, the doctor gets any empty box.
- Entonox. - Empty box.
Tea break time. Union rules.
Hang on a minute.
- Ready? - Ask the nurse to send down strapping.
You're taking a break now.
- Look, I think I'll stay here with him, OK? - It's too dangerous.
- I can't do what I'm supposed... - It won't help him
If we all get trapped down here. Now, come on.
OK.
You first.
Thanks.
(Mary) Hobson's choice, isn't it?
(Duffy) What's his BP? - 85 over 60.
(Man) We'll have him out in about 40 minutes.
- I'll have to go back in. - Let's just...
His drip will have run out. I'll have to put another bag up.
He might die before you can get him out.
How long do you need?
Five minutes, no more.
OK.
Just adjust this.
OK, let's go.
(Coughing)
(Man) Bet you'll be kind to badgers from now on!
- (Mary) Yeah. - (Mary screams)
- It's all right, love, I've got you. - (Mary screams)
Mary! Mary, can you hear me?
Mary!
(Screaming) Help me! I'm slipping!
Don't worry, love, I've got you.
- (Man) Listen, love, listen. - Get me out of here!
- Try and wriggle back. - I can't.
You can do it.
- Just calm down. Give me your hand. - Come on, love, you're safe.
That's it. All right, you can let go of her ankles now.
- (Mary) Help me! - Come on, darling, that's it. Come on.
- (Wood creaks) - (Soothingly) There's the girl.
- Get me out! - That's it, come on, that's it.
(Mary) Help me!
- Take it easy. - Steady, now, steady, love. Don't worry.
- There we go. You all right? - Yeah.
Yeah?
- Yeah. - You sure, now?
Let's have some more lads up this end.
Mind this arm.
(Man over radio) Escort commencing Cavanagh Road to Holby City Hospital.
We want information about the route from Cavanagh Road...
(Duffy) Higher.
- Got it, love? - Yeah.
(Fireman) Don't you worry, mate, we'll soon have you nice and comfortable.
Gently does it, gently does it.
- There we go. - All right, mate.
Gonna give you some oxygen so you might feel something on your mouth.
Gonna get you into the ambulance, then take you to hospital. You're doing great.
(Man) OK, everybody, ready? Let's go.
- Well done. - Thank you, sir.
OK, now back to work.
3002 to Control. ETA Holby Casualty, 10 minutes. Over.
(Radio) Thank you, 3002. We'll inform Holby Casualty. Out.
- Sorry. - That's all right.
Oh, God, Duffy.
I was so scared.
I just put my hand down on this floorboard
and it just gave way!
There was this...awful...crack.
L-Like a shotgun, you know.
And this woman down below me...
floating about.
(Sobs)
If that guy hadn't grabbed my ankles... God...!
I thought he was a bit of all right.
As long as that's all he grabbed!
(Giggles)
- You nit! - That's better.
I was frightened!
(Duffy) You're all right. (Mary) Oh, God.
(Sirens)
- Any word? - He's still in theatre.
If he's lucky, he'll lose a leg and, if he's unlucky, he'll lose both.
Look, we have a problem.
- Do I want to hear this? - Well, it goes like this.
One of the DOAs from the explosion is a young male the same age as a survivor.
The body's unidentifiable. The clothes could be anybody's.
So the only ID that we've got on the survivor is a denim jacket.
Ask the parents to identify the jacket. Normal practice.
Yeah...um... there are both sets of parents there.
The local radio station broadcast that there was one survivor, a male.
How they got that information, God alone knows.
That's the problem we have. Two sets of parents, one survivor, one denim jacket.
(Ewart) Can't we wait until he regains consciousness?
- When will that be? - God alone knows.
OK. Can you get the jacket?
Yep.
Charlie, can I talk to you now, please?
- Oh, Karen, 83 per cent, wasn't it? - Yeah.
- Hi. - Hi.
- (Clears his throat) - (Music on Walkman)
'Scuse me.
I've made a decision.
I'm leaving nursing.
Well, you could argue with me.
- If it's the right decision for you... - Oh, I see, we're being official.
Well, officially, I'm pissed off
with low pay, low esteem,
lack of promotion prospects.
I got 83 per cent.
I could be good. They don't want good, they want grafters.
And you're not a grafter?
- Where are you going? - London.
Snap. Oh, just for a couple of days.
Job interview.
Clinical Nurse Manager.
I thought you loved it here.
I love the people.
I just hate the system.
I want all the things that you want.
It's just too late for me to get out even if I wanted to.
So I'll try for a job with a bit of clout.
Try and change things from the inside.
It's a bit optimistic, I'll grant you.
But...
if we weren't optimistic, we'd have all left years ago, wouldn't we?
You made the right decision.
What more can I say?
You can say you'll miss me.
I'll miss you.
I said, I'll miss you.
(Ewart) Ah, thank you, Megan.
Does your son have a jacket like that?
- Yes. - And you say he has dark hair?
Darkish.
- And his name is...? - Scott.
Scotty. That's what they call him. Scotty.
It was an engagement... His...
It was his friend Neal...
His engagement. They were...
They were just having a party, like, to celebrate.
And...you can be quite sure that this is Scott's jacket?
I just...said so, didn't I?
- I'm sorry. - No, that's all right.
- Your son's in the operating theatre. - Got a handkerchief?
He's in the operating theatre.
Your son's alive.
- Thank God. - But he's still very ill.
He's alive!
Oh, thank God!
Thank God!
Great, yeah, thanks.
- Oh, Megan. - Yeah?
Theatre just rang down. The survivor regained consciousness.
- They got a name. - Yeah, Scott.
- Good morning, Megan. - How are you?
No, Neal.
What? Neal?
Yeah.
Oh, dear God, no!
- What's the matter? - Well, he must have borrowed the jacket.
Oh, no!