Call The Midwife, “The Browne Incident” Recap: Getting Chummy

By Caroline Evans

The second episode of the latest PBS-distributed British gem Call The Midwife sees the introduction of a new nurse, Camilla Fortescue-Cholmondeley-Browne, a name that invites all sorts of comparisons to a P.G. Wodehouse character, as does her nickname, Chummy. But Chummy, though high-born and clumsy, is also soft spoken, smart, and genuine. She is, in a word, lovable.

From the beginning, she’s an outcast in Nonnatus House, unable to fit into the nurses’ uniforms (she stands at well over six feet) and unintentionally making mention of her ayah and her recently knighted father (details that make it clear for the viewer that she comes from a different breed of people even from middle-class Jenny). She also can’t ride a bicycle, the nurses’ primary mode of transportation when making house calls. (Some of the funniest/most touching scenes from last night were of the other nurses teaching her how to ride surrounded by jeering East End street urchins) All of this causes friction with Sister Evangelina, who, we learned last week, grew up very poor. When Evangelina finds out Chummy’s been late to appointments because she has to walk everywhere, she threatens that Chummy won’t be able to do any deliveries on her own.

Actually, Evangelina only seems to notice her when she does something wrong, like falling over a table and screen, Matt Foley-style. She does not notice the sweet moment before, when Chummy is able to put a panicky expectant mother, who’s had four stillborn children, at ease. Fortunately, the doctor notices, and tells her she did a good job. Chummy, endearingly, blames it on her lucky handkerchief.

In case you couldn’t tell yet, I REALLY LOVE CHUMMY.

But enough about Chummy. Jenny Lee also has her own cases to tend to, namely, Mary, a pregnant 15-year-old Irish prostitute who may or may not be carrying her pimp’s baby. (Dang, PBS. When did Masterpiece turn into Law and Order: SVU?) Turns out, Mary ran away from Ireland and was forced into a prostitution ring, and she asks Jenny for help to get out of it. (It’s implied that she’ll be forced to have an abortion if she doesn’t.) Jenny takes her to a girls’ home, where she’s promised to be looked after by Father Joe, an Irish clergyman with a gruff exterior but, we imagine, a kind heart. Mary’s baby is delivered, and the girl seems happy to be a mother.

But when Jenny receives a scrawled note that reads “Baby gone. Please come,” she rushes to the home and finds Mary inconsolable. The baby’s been put up for adoption without Mary’s consent. Jenny’s livid, but Joe explains that because Mary is 15, she doesn’t even have a say in the matter.

Back to happier things: Chummy earns Evangelina’s respect when she delivers a breach baby (“In Poplar it’s called coming arse first,” according to resident nut job Sister Monica Joan.) unsupervised. She makes friends with one of the kids that was making fun of her cycling skills and ends up buying him a bike, and the final scene is of the two of them riding around the East End together.

Stray thoughts: I loved this episode, but its praises of Britain’s NHS (that’s National Health System for those of you who missed the Olympics opening ceremonies) got to Sesame Street-level. “Thanks to the welfare state, we can now do C-sections on poor people, isn’t that great?” And yes, it is, because it means that patient that had four stillborn children ended up giving birth to a live baby, but I wish it had been more subtle.

Sister Monica Joan continues to baffle me. Last week, it was putting plants in bed. This week, it was fashioning a beret for one of these dolls.

Rah-therness factor: 9. Not only do we get Chummy, but we also get all of her Bertie Wooster-isms, including “Tickety-boo,” when describing a breach birth and “peely wolly,” when describing the fainting spell it gave her.