Father Brown

Yoo-hoo! You want a lift?

- Where are you headed? - Hambleston.

Glenda Pike's had triplets, so I'm taking her a shepherd's pie.

What do you think, Mrs M, isn't she divine?

I think she should slow down.

She arrived this morning.

Present from Monty, he's so wonderfully generous.

Didn't think to give you driving lessons at the same time?

Sidney says I'm a very good driver.

Ha!

The words of a rogue and thief whose wages you pay.

Would you keep your eyes on the road?!

- Perhaps you'd prefer to walk? - There's no maybe about it.

In fact, I'd like you to stop this car at once.

Suit yourself.

What a mess.

A fine mess you've got us into.

Well, that's rich! It wasn't my fault.

Oh, so the wall just ran out into the road in front of us, did it?

If I recall it was you who asked me to stop the car...

The Countess of Montague. Fetch Sir Malcom immediately.

you'd have known I didn't mean you to stop there and then.

Her Ladyship's nose will need to be reset under general anaesthetic.

Same goes for your arm.

You've got a displaced fracture which will need operating on when the swelling goes down.

And how long is that going to take?

Around three days.

Until then I suppose I'm stuck here with you.

Don't worry, Mrs McCarthy, I intend to be out of here as soon as... ah!

Malcom, at last!

Apologies for the delay, I was in theatre.

How's Emma and the children?

Oh, in finer fettle than you at this present moment.

But what an honour it is, to have the chair of the hospital board entrusted to our care.

Quite.

Do you think you could put in a call to Dickie Frobisher?

I'm sure he'll want to do my operation in Harley Street.

Yes, of course, if you aren't concerned that it will send out mixed messages.

Giving your unstinting support for the National Health Service.

- Well, yes, but... - Indeed, if you don't have faith in our new vision

how can the people of Britain?

How indeed.

But at least you have your friend to keep you company.

You will never guess who the new anaesthetist is.

What are you doing?

Have you seen the state of this cupboard?

It's an accident waiting to happen.

Has no one ever said you sound like matron?

- It's Tony Fairfax! - Who?

He was a registrar when I did my training at Tommy's.

Also known as Doctor Dish.

Although I warn ya, he's the love them and leave them variety.

Strictly not husband material.

In which case I'm sure Nurse Honeywell isn't the least bit interested.

There's a tower of bedpans awaiting your attention in the sluice room.

Yes, Matron.

So, how was Mr and Mrs Beaks' funeral?

Good turnout.

After sixty years together

it was a blessing they went within days of each other.

Do you find my facial injuries amusing?

No, my lady.

Because so much as a smile out of you will result in instant dismissal.

And you, Father, can kiss goodbye to your substantial annual donation to the roof fund.

Well, you've only yourself to blame, careering around the countryside at that speed!

Anyone would think you were trying to kill the pair of us.

I'm beginning to wish I had.

Now you see what I have to put up with.

Father, how exactly are you going to cope with me being in here?

- We'll just have to manage. - Mm.

Aw.

Oi! What you doing?!

Sorry, Mrs Beale, no smoking during Sir Malcom's ward rounds.

Good evening, Sir Malcom.

Doctor Fairfax.

Good evening, Matron. Lead on.

We have one new arrival this evening, transferred from casualty.

Mrs Garrity, 65.

Fell off a ladder, picking apples.

She's suffered a concussion and a humeral fracture.

The orthopaedic registrar thinks it should be reduced in theatre.

Did you think to tell the orthopaedic reg that I've got better things to do with my time

than reduce a minimally displaced fracture?

I believe the patient reported numbness.

Doctor Irvine was concerned about neurovascular compromise.

I never thought I'd see you again.

Well, I never.

Mr and Mrs Weston.

That's fair enough.

Put her first on my list in the morning.

Mrs Crabbe.

Suspected appendicitis.

We're just waiting for her haemoglobin test to come back.

I knocked, but nobody heard.

Mrs Steele.

To what do I owe the pleasure?

I'm your locum parish secretary.

Appointed by the parish council during Mrs McCarthy's absence.

- Sidney Carter. - I know who you are.

And I can see I have my work cut out.

Right, belt and braces job and out of here in double quick time.

Ready t090?

I don't like her colour.

I'm gonna cut the gas and increase her oxygen.

She's not responding.

Okay, nothing but pure 02 now.

Still not responding.

- Is there an obstruction? - There's no obstruction.

Look at the bag.

Are you unwell?

I think the patient is the one in need of your attention.

She's stopped breathing.

Adrenaline, one in ten thousand. Quickly, nurse.

There's no pulse.

Watch where you're going, sergeant.

Ah, the Royal and Ancient, very swanky.

What's your handicap, sir?

A wife and two kids.

And club rules state no women or children.

All I need is a referee, and I'm on the fairway along with the rest of the local luminaries.

Coroner's Office called, sir, death at the hospital.

And that's of interest because?

Unknown causes, the police are obliged to investigate.

Sir Malcom Braithwaite's been informed, but we'll be paying him a visit.

You can tell the coroner to stick his red tape where the sun don't shine.

As if Her Majesty's constabulary have got nothing better to do than investigate non-suspicious...

Sir Malcom Braithwaite?

Mm, he's the chief surgeon at St Luke's, sir.

He's the secretary for the membership committee.

I spy a silver lining, sergeant.

Chop, chop, what are you waiting for?

Nurse, what's going on?

Everyone seems to be at sixes and sevens.

I'm afraid Mrs Garrity passed away on the operating table this morning.

Oh!

Ah, ah, ah, ah!

What happened?

No one knows.

The operation hadn't even started and it was only a fractured humerus.

Not that there's anything for you to worry about.

Although there will be a full investigation, of course.

When you've finished alarming the pre-operative patients

Mrs Dolan's hernia needs dressing.

Yes, nurse.

And for goodness sake change that apron before Matron catches you and blows a gasket.

They're painting the railings, I must have brushed passed them.

Damn and blast, that's me fined five shillings if it doesn't come out.

Paint is the very devil, try turpentine and ammonia, mixed with a cup of salt.

Thanks, Mrs McCarthy, you're a life-saver.

The patient's respiration started to fail, so

I cut the nitrous oxide and put her on to pure O2.

She failed to respond, so I administered adrenaline.

Sadly, to no avail.

And has the equipment been checked?

Fully checked, before and after the operation.

The procedure was textbook.

I'm afraid these things happen, Inspector.

Anaesthetics are still very much in the unchartered waters of the medical profession.

Sir Malcom alludes to the fact that 6 months ago a patient died whilst anaesthetic in my care

leading to a General Medical Council enquiry at which I was fully exonerated.

I can provide you with a full copy of the report, if you care to read it.

- God, no. - Here's the rub, Inspector.

We are in the vanguard of the greatest social experiment in history.

The National Health Service, providing free medical care to all at the point of delivery.

The last thing we need right now is anyone doubting us.

Oh, do you play?

I'm up for membership at the R and A, as it happens.

Ah! Oh, we're always keen to welcome like-minded pillars of the establishment.

I'm sure you'll find us all a mutually supportive lot.

Anything else, sergeant?

Then I think we're finished here.

See you in the club house.

Argh

Balaclava, nice touch.

Element of surprise. Your reaction times are getting faster, Father.

Mrs Steele.

Um, Sid was just teaching me the noble art of self-defence.

I see.

Mother Augustin is here, I've put her in the study.

Right, yes, I'm on my way.

If you could restrain yourself from attacking her.

I'll be off.

I find myself wondering, why would a man of the cloth have a need to defend himself?

You never know when you might get in trouble.

Trouble begets trouble.

And from what I hear, you, young man, are trouble with a capital T.

You reckon, do ya?

Father Brown should be doing God's work, instead of brawling in public in the church yard.

Father Brown is not your average priest.

I don't know what Bridgette McCarthy was thinking but I think he'll find I run a tighter ship.

Good luck with that.

At last, a nurse next to a frying pan, my stomach's turning somersaults.

Be a good girl and rustle up some bacon and eggs.

Yes, Doctor, just as soon as I've changed the dressing on Mrs Dolan's infected hernia.

I'd heard you were a feisty one.

Only that Mrs Dolan's stomach is in rather worse shape than yours at this precise moment.

Look at the state of you!

Well, what do you expect after running all the way across the quad?

And you'll never guess, I think I know how Mrs Garrity died

and I don't think it was of natural causes