Carson reads and smokes his pipe. Mrs Hughes looks in.
MRS HUGHES: I’ve told William to lock up.
He nods his thanks, but she lingers in the doorway.
MRS HUGHES (CONT’D): Are you feeling better? In yourself? I thought you might be coming down with something. But you seem a bit improved tonight.
CARSON: I’m sorry if I’ve been edgy.
MRS HUGHES: Things’ll work out. You’ll see. Lady Mary will marry some rich lord and be as happy as a pixie, no matter who gets Downton.
CARSON: I hope so.
MRS HUGHES: Though I can’t pretend to share your enthusiasm for her. I think she’s an uppity creature.
CARSON: You didn’t know her as a child. She was a guinea a minute then. I remember once when she came in here, she can’t have been more than four or five. ‘Mr Carson,’ she says. ‘I’ve decided to run away and I wonder if I might take some of the silver to sell.’
He laughs at his own memory.
CARSON (CONT’D): Well, I said. That’d be awkward for his lordship. Suppose I give you sixpence to spend in the village instead? ‘All right,’ says she. ‘But you must be sure to charge me interest.’
MRS HUGHES: And did you?
CARSON: She gave me a kiss in full payment.
MRS HUGHES: Then she had the better bargain, which doesn’t surprise me.
CARSON: Oh, I wouldn’t say that.
But she is smiling as he stands to blow out the lamp.
* * *
57 INT. GALLERY/STAIRCASE/HALL. DOWNTON. DAY.
A bright afternoon. The three girls emerge from a bedroom, wearing hats and gloves, ready for an excursion.
* * *
EDITH: Has the car been brought round? We should go. It’s almost three.
SYBIL: I bet Granny wears black.
* * *
EDITH: Why must we all go to the hospital?
MARY: I’m afraid Papa wants to teach Granny a lesson. Poor Granny. A month ago these people were strangers. Now she must share power with the mother and I must marry the son.
EDITH: You won’t marry him, though, will you?
MARY: What? Marry a sea monster?
Which sets them all off. They descend the staircase.
SYBIL: We shouldn’t laugh. That was so unkind.
EDITH: But he must marry someone.
Mary catches sight of her sister’s face.
MARY: Edith? What are you thinking?
EDITH: You know I don’t dislike him as much as you do.
MARY: Perhaps you don’t dislike him at all.
EDITH: Perhaps I don’t.
Something about this annoys Mary but she throws it off.
MARY: Well, it’s nothing to me. I’ve bigger fish to fry.
SYBIL: What fish?
EDITH: Are we talking about EN?
MARY: How do you know that? Have you been poking around in my things?
EDITH: Of course not.
Although she has. They’ve reached the hall now.
SYBIL: Come on. Who is he? It’s not fair if you both know.
MARY: You won’t be any the wiser, but his name is Evelyn Napier.
Edith salutes as she walks.
EDITH: The Honourable Evelyn Napier. Son and heir to Viscount Branksome.
MARY: Who wants an old sea monster when they can have Perseus?
And she walks out through the door to the waiting Taylor.
58 INT. MRS HUGHES’S SITTING ROOM. DAY.
Mrs Hughes is getting ready when Carson looks in.
CARSON: If you’re going to the ceremony, I thought we might walk together.
MRS HUGHES: Certainly, I’m going. I want to see the old bat’s face when they announce it. I must try not to look too cheerful.
At the sound of the word, he looks up sharply.
MRS HUGHES (CONT’D): Or shouldn’t I talk like that in your presence?
CARSON: Do you find me very ridiculous, Mrs Hughes?
* * *
MRS HUGHES: What?
CARSON: Am I a joke? Putting on airs and graces I’ve no right to?
* * *
MRS HUGHES: What’s brought this on?
CARSON: Nothing. Except at times I wonder if I’m just a sad old fool.
Mrs Hughes has been adjusting her hat in the glass, but now she turns to give him her full attention.
MRS HUGHES: Mr Carson, you are a man of integrity and honour, who raises the tone of this household by being part of it. So no more of that, please. Now, wait while I fetch my coat.
She scurries off, leaving Carson thoughtful and alone.
59 INT. SERVANTS’ HALL. DAY.
William is talking to Daisy. Around them, the other servants are setting off in overcoats and hats.
WILLIAM: I wondered if you’d like to walk with—
DAISY: Is Thomas going?
WILLIAM: I think everyone is.
DAISY: Sorry, What were you saying?
WILLIAM: Nothing. Doesn’t matter.
He leaves as Mrs Patmore appears.
MRS PATMORE: Put that in the larder before you go, and never mind your flirting.
DAISY: I wasn’t flirting. Not with him.
She finds the idea outlandish, which puzzles the cook.
MRS PATMORE: William’s not a bad lad.
DAISY: He’s nice enough. But he isn’t like Thomas.
MRS PATMORE: No. He is not.
60 INT. DRESSING ROOM. CRAWLEY HOUSE. DAY.
Matthew is being dressed in a morning coat by Molesley.
MOLESLEY: Cuff links, sir?
MATTHEW: Those are a dull option for such an occasion. Don’t you agree?
Molesley can’t believe what he’s hearing.
MOLESLEY: Might I suggest the crested pair? They seem more appropriate, if you don’t mind my saying.
MATTHEW: They’re a bit fiddly. I wonder if you could help me.
MOLESLEY: Certainly, sir.
He puts them in, then holds the coat open quite jauntily.
MATTHEW: I see you got that mark out of the sleeve. How did you do it?
MOLESLEY: Oh, I tried it with this and I tried it with that, until it yielded.
MATTHEW: Very well done.
MOLESLEY: Thank you, sir.
He is almost grinning.
61 EXT. DOWNTON VILLAGE. DAY.
People are going into the hospital. Carson and Mrs Hughes arrive just after Bates.
CARSON: You go in, Mrs Hughes. I want a quick word with Mr Bates, here.
The housekeeper goes in with the others.
CARSON: Mr Bates. I must thank you. Both for what you did, and for keeping silent afterwards. It was kind of you. And Anna.
BATES: It was nothing.
CARSON: I hope you don’t judge me too harshly.
BATES: I don’t judge you at all.
Something in his tone makes the other man look at him.
BATES (CONT’D): Believe me, I have no right to judge you. Or any man.
62 INT. HALL OF THE HOSPITAL. DAY.
Violet, Isobel and Clarkson step up onto a dais. The crowd is below them. Some patients are there, including Drake, still in a wheelchair but transformed. His wife is with him. Cora whispers to Robert, nodding at the audience.
* * *
CORA: Why are you doing this? And why so many witnesses? Is it just to punish your mother?
ROBERT: Not ‘punish.’ I’d say it was to teach her a lesson.
Violet stands, ramrod straight, as Clarkson speaks.
* * *
CLARKSON: Ladies and gentlemen, welcome, to this happy event. The investiture of our first Chairwoman, Mrs Reginald Crawley, who has graciously agreed to share the duties of our beloved President, the Dowager Countess of Grantham. Our little hospital must surely grow and thrive, with two such doughty champions united as they are by the strongest ties of all, family and friendship.
Violet and Isobel glare at each other with thinly disguised loathing.
END OF EPISODE TWO
EPISODE THREE
ACT ONE
1 EXT. DOWNTON ABBEY. DAY.
The house catches the morning sun. Bates comes out of the kitchen courtyard and walks away, as briskly as he can.
2 INT. POST OFFICE. DOWNTON. DAY.
Bates comes into the shop.
POSTMISTRESS: There you are, Mr Bates. It’s in. Came this morning.
She hands over a 1913 version of Exchange and Mart.
BATES: They said it would. But that isn’t quite the same thing.
As he is leaving, he bumps into Gwen by the door. She is carrying a package and, for some reason, is flustered.
BATES (CONT’D): Hello. I could have posted that for you.
GWEN: I prefer to do it myself.
BATES: I’ll wait outside.
* * *
3 EXT. VILLAGE. DOWNTON. DAY.
Bates and Gwen are walking back together.
BATES: I’ve got a secret, too.
He smiles as he holds the rolled up magazine. She is nervous of confirming her own secret. She just nods.
BATES (CONT’D): You’re all in for a surprise.
GWEN: A nice one, I hope.
BATES: Very nice, yes. Very, very nice.
They walk on.
* * *
4 INT. ANNA’S AND GWEN’S BEDROOM. DAY.
Anna is standing on a chair, moving things around on top of a cupboard. She is investigating an immensely heavy box.
GWEN (V.O.): What are you doing?
Anna is so surprised by this that she almost falls. She steadies herself. Gwen is standing in the doorway.
ANNA: If you must know, I’m trying to find some space on top of the cupboard to make life easier.
Gwen relaxes. But she is not off the hook.
ANNA (CONT’D): So what’s in it, then?
GWEN: What?
ANNA: A bleedin’ great packing case that weighs a ton. That’s what!
She pats the box. Gwen looks almost shifty.
GWEN: Can’t you just leave it?
ANNA: No. I can’t. And you’ll tell me right now. Unless you want me to ask Mrs Hughes about it.
Gwen thinks, then motions to Anna to get off the chair.
5 EXT. GARDENS. DOWNTON. DAY.
Cora is walking. She turns the corner of the path to find Mary sitting, reading a letter.
CORA: Anything interesting?
MARY: Not particularly.
She folds the page and puts it away.
MARY (CONT’D): It’s from Evelyn Napier. You met him with the Delderfields, last November, at Doncaster races.
CORA: Is that Lord Branksome’s boy?*
MARY: It is.
CORA: Do you like him?
MARY: I don’t dislike him.
CORA: And what’s he writing about?
MARY: Nothing much. He’s out with the York and Ainsty next week, and the meet is at Downton, so he wants some tea when he’s here.
CORA: Where’s he staying? With friends?
MARY: He says he’s found a pub that caters for hunting.
CORA: Oh, we can improve on that. He must come here. He can send the horses up early if he wants.
MARY: He’ll know why you’re asking him.
CORA: I can’t think what you mean. His mother’s a friend of mine. She’ll be pleased at the idea.
MARY: Not very pleased. She’s dead.
CORA: All the more reason then. You can write a note, too, and put it in with mine.
MARY: Shall I tell him about your friendship with his late mother?
CORA: I’m sure you of all people can compose a letter to a young man, without any help from me.
6 INT. ANNA’S AND GWEN’S BEDROOM. DAY.
The two women are staring at a new typewriter on the table.
ANNA: How much did it cost?
GWEN: Every penny I’d saved. Almost.
ANNA: And is this the mystery lover?
Gwen acknowledges the truth with a raised eyebrow.
GWEN: I’ve been taking a correspondence course in typing and shorthand. That’s what was in the envelopes.
ANNA: Are you any good?
GWEN: Yes, I am, actually.
She blushes with a slight smile, proud of herself.*
* * *
ANNA: But what’s it for?
GWEN: Because I want to be a secretary.
ANNA: What?
GWEN: I’m bored with being in service. I’m not saying it’s wrong or anything like that, but I’m bored with it. It’s not for me. I want to join a business and earn some money and not … be a servant.
* * *
Anna is digesting this when the door flies open on O’Brien. The maids stand together, blocking the view of the table.
O’BRIEN: Her ladyship wants the fawn skirt that Lady Mary never wears. The seamstress is going to fit it to Lady Sybil but I can’t find it.
ANNA: I’ll come in a minute.
O’BRIEN: They’re waiting now.
ANNA: One minute. I’m just changing my cap and apron.
She can’t of course move without revealing the typewriter. O’Brien goes. As she speaks, Anna fetches a frilly cap and apron for the afternoon and pins them on. So does Gwen.
ANNA (CONT’D): Have you told anyone? What did your parents say?
GWEN: I can’t tell them ‘til I’ve got a job. Dad’ll think I’m a fool to leave a good place. And Mum’ll say I’m getting above myself. But I don’t believe that.
She looks at her fellow maid defiantly.
ANNA: Nor do I.
7 INT. LIBRARY. DOWNTON. DAY.
Violet and Cora are with Robert, who’s reading the paper.
CORA: It’s not of my doing. It’s all Mary’s own work. But I think we should encourage it.
ROBERT: Branksome’s a dull dog but I don’t suppose that matters.
CORA: Did you know his wife had died?
ROBERT: He only ever talks about racing.
But, for Violet, it’s time to get down to business.
VIOLET: Cora’s right. Mary won’t take Matthew Crawley, so we need to get her settled before the bloom is quite gone off the rose.
CORA: Is the family an old one?
VIOLET: Older than yours, I imagine.
ROBERT: Old enough.
CORA: And there’s plenty of money.
VIOLET: Really?
ROBERT: Mama, you’ve already looked him up in the stud books and made enquiries about the fortune. Don’t pretend otherwise?
Violet draws herself up and becomes very grand, indeed.
ROBERT (CONT’D): Are you afraid someone will think you American if you speak openly?
VIOLET: I doubt it would come to that.
CORA: Shall I ring for tea?
Her son checks the clock on the chimneypiece and stands.
ROBERT: Not for me. I’m meeting Cripps at five. Bramley wants to move one of the feeding pens and he needs a decision. I’ll see you at dinner.
With a brisk nod at the two women, he goes.
CORA: You don’t seem very pleased.
VIOLET: I’m pleased. It isn’t brilliant but I’m pleased.
CORA: So?
VIOLET: I don’t want Robert to use a marriage as an excuse to stop fighting for Mary’s inheritance.
* * *
CORA: It won’t make any difference.
VIOLET: You can’t be sure. She’ll be well set up, with a reasonable position. She won’t be hungry.
* * *
CORA: It won’t make a difference. I don’t think he has the slightest intention of fighting as it is. The price of saving Downton is to accept Matthew Crawley as his heir. And, as far as he’s concerned, that’s that.
VIOLET: What about you?
CORA: I don’t dislike Matthew. In fact, I rather admire him.
VIOLET: And is that sufficient reason to give him your money?
CORA: Of course not, but—
VIOLET: Then there’s no more to be said. Are we having tea? Or not?
Cora goes to pull the b
ell rope. There will never be more than an armed truce between them.
8 EXT. DOWNTON VILLAGE. DAY.
Edith is walking in the village towards the Crawleys’ house when she’s overtaken by Matthew on a bicycle. He stops.
MATTHEW: I’d offer you a lift, if I could.
EDITH: It was you I was coming to see.
MATTHEW: Then your timing is matchless. I’m just off the train.
She smiles, falling into step as he wheels the bicycle.
EDITH: The other day at dinner, Cousin Isobel was saying you wanted to see some of the local churches.
MATTHEW: She’s right. I do. I want to know more about the county generally, if I’m to live here.
Now comes the rehearsed moment. She takes a breath.
EDITH: Well, I thought I might show you a few of the nearer ones. We could take a picnic and make an outing of it.
MATTHEW: That’s very kind.
EDITH: Nonsense. I’ll enjoy it. It’s too long since I played the tourist.
MATTHEW: It would have to be a Saturday. The churches work on Sunday, and I work all the weekdays.
EDITH: Then Saturday it is. I’ll get Lynch to sort out the governess cart and I’ll pick you up at about eleven.
Matthew has a date with his cousin. He’s trapped.*
9 INT. SERVANTS’ HALL. DOWNTON. NIGHT.
Thomas, William and Daisy are staring at the typewriter.
DAISY: How does it work?
WILLIAM: Easy. You just press the letters and they print on the paper.
He does this. The others look.
* * *
THOMAS: Not that easy. You’ve smudged it.
WILLIAM: I have not.
* * *
Downton Abbey Script Book Season 1 Page 11