MARY: But we’re not! Don’t you see that? We’re not in control of anything at all!
She has shouted and now she storms out, slamming the door.
CORA: Edith, go and tell Mary to come back at once, and apologise to her grandmother.
But for once Violet is surprisingly sympathetic.
VIOLET: No. Leave her alone. She’s had a shock. We all have. Let her rest.
Edith looks at Cora who nods. Edith sits again as the door opens and William comes in with the tea tray.
VIOLET (CONT’D): Ah. Just the ticket. Nanny always said sweet tea was the thing for frayed nerves. Though why it has to be sweet I couldn’t tell you.
And she sits, with a grandchild on either side.
46 INT. KITCHEN. DOWNTON. DAY.
Thomas has a hot water jug which Daisy is filling. At a basin, O’Brien uses soda to get marks out of a collar. Mrs Patmore is cooking. Gwen watches.
GWEN: What did you mean, Mr Pamuk lived each day as if it were his last?
THOMAS: What I said.
GWEN: But how did you know?
THOMAS: I can’t keep William waiting. Gangway.
He has picked up the hot water jug and heads for the door, but as he passes O’Brien, she speaks under her breath.
O’BRIEN: I’ll be asking the same question later. So you’d better have an answer ready.
Thomas winks at her and goes. Mrs Patmore looks over.
* * *
MRS PATMORE: Daisy, assuming you have not been hypnotised by Doctor Mesmer, could you oblige me by cutting up them onions? Now?
DAISY: Yes, Mrs Patmore.
Daisy is trembling, knowing her great secret.
* * *
MRS PATMORE: Where have you hidden the flour? I can’t see it anywhere.
DAISY: It’s just there, Mrs Patmore.
MRS PATMORE: Well, fetch it to me then. You’re all in a daze today.
Daisy does as she is told. But something in the girl’s demeanour has attracted O’Brien’s interest.
47 INT. DRAWING ROOM. CRAWLEY HOUSE. EVE.
Isobel is writing. Matthew is with her.
MATTHEW: Do you think we should have gone up there? To see how they are?
ISOBEL: I sent a note, but I thought I’d just be in the way. Why?
MATTHEW: I thought Mary was rather struck with him last night, didn’t you?
ISOBEL: It must have been frightful for all of them. But there it is. In the midst of life we are in death.
* * *
MATTHEW: On second thoughts, perhaps you were right to stay away.
* * *
48 INT. CORA’S BEDROOM. NIGHT.
O’Brien is brushing Cora’s hair. Cora is dressed in her night clothes and her bed has been turned down.
* * *
CORA: What a horrible, horrible day.
O’BRIEN: You’ll be glad to see the end of it.
CORA: Poor Mr Pamuk. I keep thinking of his parents. He had such a brilliant future ahead of him.
O’BRIEN: Death is all we can rely on.
She starts to plait Cora’s hair for sleeping.
* * *
O’BRIEN: I suppose Mr Napier will have to manage everything.
CORA: I suppose he will.
O’BRIEN: We all thought him a very nice gentleman.
CORA: Yes, he is nice.
O’BRIEN: Will we be seeing a lot of him?
Cora knows what the maid is trying to find out, but it is going to become clear soon. After a beat, she speaks.
CORA: I don’t expect so, no.
O’BRIEN: Because we rather hoped Lady Mary might have taken a shine to him.
CORA: It seems not.
O’BRIEN: Oh, well. There are plenty more fish in the sea than ever came out of it.*
* * *
Cora stands, weary and sad, and removes her dressing gown.
CORA: I hope there are, O’Brien. I certainly hope there are.
As she goes to the bed, O’Brien watches her.
49 INT. KITCHEN PASSAGE. NIGHT.
Mrs Hughes is walking along when Carson appears. He is carrying a candle.
MRS HUGHES: Are you turning in?
CARSON: Not quite yet. But you go.
She starts to leave.
CARSON (CONT’D): And, Mrs Hughes. I know some of them missed church today. But so did the family. I don’t want anyone reprimanded.
MRS HUGHES: I agree. It’s been unsettling for everyone. Goodnight, Mr Carson.
She goes one way, he goes the other.
* * *
50 INT. BEDROOM PASSAGE. DOWNTON. NIGHT.
Carson is walking down a passage, still carrying his candle. He opens a door and goes into Kemal’s bedroom.
51 INT. KEMAL PAMUK’S BEDROOM. NIGHT.
The room is tidy, the bed is stripped, with the blankets folded at one end. He looks around and is about to leave.
MARY (V.O.): Are you looking for something?
He holds up the candle. She is sitting by the window.
CARSON: Your Ladyship?
MARY: Are you looking for something?
CARSON: I just wanted to make sure the room had been tidied up after the—after the people had left.
She nods, standing and staring at the neat, empty bed.
MARY: Life can be terribly unfair, can’t it?
CARSON: It certainly can.
MARY: Everything seems so golden one minute, and then turns to ashes the next … Can I ask you a question, Carson?
This Mary is a gentler person than we have seen before.
MARY (CONT’D): Have you ever felt your life was somehow … slipping away? And there was nothing you could do to stop it?
CARSON: I think everyone feels that at one time or another.
But Mary is almost talking to herself.
MARY: The odd thing is I feel, for the first time really, I understand what it is to be happy. It’s just that I know I won’t be.
CARSON: Oh, don’t say that, m’lady. Don’t raise the white flag quite yet.
She looks bewildered by his response.
CARSON (CONT’D): You will still be mistress of Downton. Old Lady Grantham hasn’t given up the fight, not by a long chalk.
MARY: Oh, that. I wasn’t thinking about that.
CARSON: And if I may say so, your ladyship, you are still very young.
MARY: Am I? I don’t feel it.
She smiles, as if to make a joke of it, but Carson is moved by her sorrow to make a declaration.
CARSON: We’re all behind you, m’lady. The staff. We’re all on your side.
MARY: Thank you, Carson. You’ve always been so kind to me. Always. From when I was quite a little girl. Why is that?
CARSON: Even a butler has his favourites, m’lady.*
MARY: Does he? I’m glad.
ANNA (V.O.): Lady Mary?
The voice is out in the corridor, a little way away. They are silent until Anna comes in, holding a candle.
ANNA (CONT’D): Oh, your ladyship, I thought you might be in—
She has seen Carson, which is a surprise to her.
MARY: Carson and I were just making sure that everything was shipshape and Bristol fashion.
She moves to the door. It is time for the chink to close and class values to reassert themselves.
MARY (CONT’D): And it is. Goodnight, Carson.
CARSON: Goodnight, m’lady.
She and Anna go. And, after a moment, so does the butler.
* * *
52 INT. SERVANTS’ HALL. DOWNTON. DAY.
The bells are ringing and the servants peel away.
MRS HUGHES: That’s Lady Mary.
ANNA: Send not to know for whom the bell tolls. It tolls for me.
With a wry smile she stands and goes. The others leave until Bates is alone at the table. He starts to move, then sits back with a groan. Biting his lip, he forces himself up and hobbles off. From a doorway, Mrs Hughes is watching.
* * *
53 INT.
ROBERT’S DRESSING ROOM. DAY.
Bates, in some pain, is helping Robert finish dressing.
* * *
ROBERT: What a business! I still can’t get over it. And of all the men on earth—I mean, he looked so fit. Did you see any signs?
* * *
BATES: I didn’t have much of a chance to study the gentleman.
ROBERT: You don’t suppose there was something sinister in it? Every day the papers warn us of German spies, and they did say his presence was essential for peace in Albania.
BATES: I doubt that, m’lord. Anyone wanting to poison his food would have to get past Mrs Patmore.
ROBERT: Blimey, that’s a thought. Unless of course she’s a spy herself.
He laughs but Bates doesn’t.
* * *
ROBERT (CONT’D): No, you’re quite right. It’s not funny. Not funny at all.
He stands for Bates to brush his shoulders.
ROBERT (CONT’D): Anyway, I’d better write to the Turkish Ambassador—
He has glanced at Bates and is silenced by the man’s face.
* * *
ROBERT (CONT’D): Bates, I wish you’d tell me what’s wrong. You’ll be in no trouble. I only want to help.
BATES: I know that, your lordship, and I’m grateful. Truly. But there’s nothing I need help with.
Robert does not try again.
54 INT. BEDROOM PASSAGE. DAY.
Robert comes out of his dressing room. Mrs Hughes is there.
ROBERT: Good morning … Mrs Hughes,
MRS HUGHES: Good morning, my lord.
ROBERT: I wonder if you—
He hesitates, glancing back at the dressing room door.
* * *
ROBERT (CONT’D): Never mind.
* * *
He walks on but she continues to the door.
55 INT. ROBERT’S DRESSING ROOM. DAY.
Bates is bent over in agony. He grips the bedstead.
MRS HUGHES: Now will you kindly explain what in heaven is going on?
Bates looks up and tries to smile as he stands but the pain is too great and he gasps.
BATES: I’m perfectly well, Mrs Hughes. A bit stiff, that’s all.
But this time she shuts the door and sits on the bed.
MRS HUGHES: Just so long as you know I’m not leaving until you tell me.
He stares at her for a moment. Then he sighs.
BATES: I hope you have a strong stomach.
She waits as, slowly, he pulls up the leg of his trouser. The savage, straightening implement is cutting sharply into his flesh, which is mottled and bleeding and bruised, black and red and blue, the length of his calf and ankle.
MRS HUGHES: Oh, my God.
When Bates looks up, to his surprise he finds she’s crying.*
56 EXT. GARDENS. DOWNTON. DAY.
Mary is walking on her own when she looks up. Matthew is coming across the lawn towards her.
MATTHEW: Cousin Mary?
MARY: Hello. Are we expecting you?
MATTHEW: No, but I wanted to see you. I looked for you yesterday at church.
* * *
MARY: I wasn’t feeling up to it. None of us were. Shouldn’t you be at work?
MATTHEW: I’ve sent a message that I’m coming in late.
She smiles a little. This means he has come to see her.
MARY: So, why are you here?
MATTHEW: Only to say that I was very sorry about what happened.
She looks at him. What does he suspect? Nothing of course. How could he suspect anything? And yet …
MARY: We didn’t know him at all, really. But …
MATTHEW: Even so. It must have been a horrible shock.
* * *
MARY: Yes.
MATTHEW: And he seemed a nice fellow.
MARY: He was. A very ‘nice fellow’.
She mimics his words but she feels his understanding.
MATTHEW: So, if there’s anything I can do, please ask.
She studies his face and sees his generosity.
MARY: There isn’t. But thank you.
57 EXT. PARK. DOWNTON. DAY.
At one end of the lake Mrs Hughes and Bates stand solemnly.
BATES: Well, here goes.
MRS HUGHES: Do you think we ought to say a few words?
BATES: What? Good riddance?
MRS HUGHES: That and your promise.
BATES: Very well. I promise I will never again try to cure myself. I will spend my life happily as the butt of others’ jokes and I will never mind them.
MRS HUGHES: We all carry scars, Mr Bates, inside or out, and we must all put up with them as best we can. You’re no different to the rest of us. Remember that.
BATES: I will try to. That I do promise.
So saying, he bends to pick up the hideous instrument of torture and throws it far out into the water.
MRS HUGHES: And good riddance!
The brace sinks out of sight beneath the surface.
58 EXT. KITCHEN YARD. DAY.
O’Brien is with Thomas, who gestures with his cigarette.
O’BRIEN: So he definitely went in?
THOMAS: I saw him walk through the door.
O’BRIEN: But you don’t know if he went back to his own room.
THOMAS: Yes, I do. ‘Cos I was the one who found him there the next day.
O’BRIEN: What I mean is: You don’t know he went back under his own steam.
THOMAS: I suppose not. But how else would he have done it?
O’BRIEN: That’s what they call the Big Question.
A thought occurs to him.
THOMAS: I don’t want to get into any trouble over this.
O’BRIEN: Don’t worry. You won’t. Your secret’s safe with me.
END OF EPISODE THREE
EPISODE FOUR
ACT ONE
1 EXT. DOWNTON VILLAGE. DAY.
A hammer smashes down on to a peg in the ground. Men are erecting tents for the stalls. A helter skelter is being tested, while a steam-run pianola fills the Green with raucous music. It is a modest affair, really, but it seems exciting in this village. Anna, Bates and Gwen watch.*
GWEN: When does it open?
BATES: Tomorrow afternoon.
GWEN: Let’s get up a party for the evening if Mrs Hughes lets us. After we’ve had our dinner.
ANNA: You’re right. It doesn’t come often and it doesn’t stay long.
GWEN: And what about you, Mr Bates?
BATES: I don’t see why not.
Anna sees Mary loitering on the edge of the Green.
ANNA: You go on ahead. I’ll see you back at the house.
2 EXT. DOWNTON VILLAGE. DAY.
Mary is watching the activity when Anna joins her.
ANNA: Is everything all right, m’lady?
Which jerks Mary out of her reverie.
* * *
MARY: What? Oh, yes. I was collecting something from Doctor Clarkson for Mama, and I stopped to see how they were getting on.
* * *
ANNA: Has she recovered from …
She lifts her eyebrows slightly as they start to walk away.
MARY: If you think she’ll ever recover from carrying the body of Mr Pamuk from one side of the house to the other, then you don’t know her at all.
ANNA: Well, I didn’t mean ‘recover’ exactly. Just, get past it.
MARY: She won’t do that, either. When she dies they’ll cut her open and find it engraved on her heart.
ANNA: What about you? What about your heart?
MARY: Haven’t you heard? I don’t have a heart. Everyone knows that.*
* * *
ANNA: Not me, m’lady. Still, at least you were lucky with … you know.
Mary instinctively lays her hand on her stomach.
MARY: Oh, yes. I was lucky there. That’s me. Lucky as a lark.
But these two are friends now. Across the Green, Isobel and Matthew also watch the fair workers. They wave.
ANNA: I’m glad you
think better of Mr Crawley, these days.
MARY: Who says I do?
* * *
Mary smiles as they walk on.
3 INT. LIBRARY. DOWNTON. DAY.
Robert is working, with Pharaoh at his feet. Carson enters.
CARSON: You wanted to see the new chauffeur, m’lord.
ROBERT: Yes, indeed. Please bring him in.
Carson nods and a young man, in his thirties, appears. This is Tom Branson. He is attractive and polite. Carson leaves.
ROBERT: Come in, come in. Good to see you again … Branson, isn’t it?
BRANSON: That’s right, your lordship.
ROBERT: I hope they’ve shown you where everything is? And we’ve delivered whatever we promised at the interview?
BRANSON: Certainly, m’lord.
* * *
ROBERT: Good.
Robert finds him rather an interesting character.
ROBERT: How did you first come to be a chauffeur?
BRANSON: My father was a tenant of Mrs Delderfield’s and I was apprenticed to the chauffeur there. But he’d been a coachman and he didn’t have much feeling for cars. In the end, the mistress asked me to take over.
* * *
ROBERT: Won’t you miss Ireland?
BRANSON: Ireland, yes, but not the job. She was a nice lady, but she only had one car and she wouldn’t let me drive it over twenty miles an hour. So it was a bit … well, boring, so to speak.
Downton Abbey Script Book Season 1 Page 15