Downton Abbey Script Book Season 1

by Julian Fellowes

  THOMAS: Who’s going to tell them? You?

  But Bates just smiles. Thomas glances at O’Brien.

  7 INT. KITCHEN PASSAGE/CARSON’S PANTRY. DOWNTON. EVE.

  Mrs Hughes is hurrying along. She reaches Carson’s door.

  MRS HUGHES: Mr Carson, are you all right?

  CARSON: Why shouldn’t I be?

  MRS HUGHES: You’ve never rung the dressing gong and Mrs Patmore’s doing a souffle’ for the first course.

  CARSON: Oh, my God—

  He snatches at his watch, jumps up and hurries out.

  8 INT. DRESSING ROOM. DOWNTON. EVE.

  Pharaoh watches as Bates holds a tailcoat open for Robert.

  ROBERT: Rather unlike Carson. We’d better go straight in to dinner.

  BATES: I’ll tell Miss O’Brien and Anna.

  * * *

  ROBERT: Any more news of the by-election? Mr Crawley was here earlier. He said his mother had gone to the Liberal rally in Ripon. The vicar’s wife took her. Classic.

  * * *

  BATES: I hear it was quite lively.

  ROBERT: I dare say the Townies will make the usual stink when the Tory candidate’s returned.

  BATES: I’m not sure. I heard the Liberal was given a hard time, today. Mr Branson said it was getting out of hand when they left.

  Bates has been talking easily as he folds the day clothes.

  ROBERT: Typical Branson to be there. I hope he squared it with Carson. Who went with him?

  Bates realises he has put his foot in it.

  BATES: Uh … I’m not sure anyone went with him, m’lord.

  ROBERT: But you just said ‘they’. Who was with him?

  BATES: I don’t like to say.

  ROBERT: Bates. Who was with him?

  BATES: Lady Sybil.

  ROBERT: Lady Sybil? Why?

  BATES: I should never have mentioned it, m’lord. I thought you knew.

  ROBERT: No, I did not know.

  9 INT. DINING ROOM. DOWNTON. NIGHT.

  The family has just sat down to dinner. Violet is with them. Carson, Thomas and William are serving.

  ROBERT: I gather you went to hear the Liberal candidate today?

  SYBIL: There were several speakers, actually, he was the last.

  ROBERT: Did he speak well?

  SYBIL: I thought so.

  ROBERT: But there was quite a brouhaha.

  SYBIL: You know what these things can be like—

  ROBERT: I do. Which is why I’m astonished you should not feel it necessary to ask my permission to attend.

  There is a silence in the room. Robert is very angry.

  ROBERT (CONT’D): I assume this was Branson’s idea.

  SYBIL: No, I—

  ROBERT: I confess I was amused at the idea of an Irish radical for a chauffeur, but I see now I have been naive.*

  CORA: I told Branson to take Sybil.

  ROBERT: What are you saying?*

  CORA: Sybil needed to get to Ripon, and I asked Branson to drive her. I thought it was sensible. In case there was trouble.

  SYBIL: I want to do some canvassing. The by-election isn’t far off, and—

  VIOLET: Canvassing?

  SYBIL: It’s quite safe. You’re in a group and you knock on doors—

  VIOLET: Yes, I know what canvassing is.

  MARY: I think that Sybil is …

  VIOLET: What? Are you canvassing, too? Or would you rather take in washing?

  MARY: I was only going to say that Sybil’s entitled to her opinions.

  VIOLET: Not until she is married. Then her husband will tell her what her opinions are.

  MARY: Oh, Granny.

  SYBIL: I knew you wouldn’t approve.

  ROBERT: Which is presumably why you all hid your plans from me.

  10 INT. SERVERY. DOWNTON. NIGHT.

  Daisy is clearing away plates. Thomas is loading a tray.

  THOMAS: Her ladyship’ll have a smacked bottom if she isn’t careful.

  Daisy snorts with laughter as Carson looks in.

  CARSON: Hurry up. I don’t want anything else to go wrong tonight … Where’s the sauce? Doesn’t this have Hollandaise?

  DAISY: I’ll get it. I won’t be a jiffy.

  THOMAS: Would you do that for me?

  DAISY: I’d do anything for you.

  She is gone before he can respond.

  11 INT. DINING ROOM. DOWNTON. NIGHT.

  As Thomas walks in, things are still sticky.

  VIOLET: Does this mean you won’t be presented next month?

  SYBIL: Certainly not. Why should it?

  VIOLET: I doubt I’d expect to curtsey to Their Majesties in June, if I’d been arrested at a riot in May. But of course I’m old. Things may be different now.*

  CORA: She hasn’t been arrested and it wasn’t a riot.

  EDITH: But it might be next time.

  ROBERT: There will not be a next time.†

  12 INT. SERVANTS’ HALL. DOWNTON. NIGHT.

  Bates and Anna are with Branson.

  ANNA: Her ladyship’s not best pleased at being told off in public. William said she was looking daggers.

  BATES: I’m sorry I started all this.

  BRANSON: Oh, it’s not your fault. Anyway, he ought to be glad he’s got a daughter who cares.

  Thomas leans in through the door.

  THOMAS: Her ladyship’s ready to leave.

  BRANSON: I’ll bring the car round.

  THOMAS: Are you pleased with yourself?

  Before Bates can speak, Branson and Thomas have gone.

  * * *

  ANNA: Silly chump. Why must he be so unpleasant all the time?

  BATES: He’s nervous.

  ANNA: What of?

  BATES: He annoyed me, earlier on, and I said something stupid. He thinks I’m planning to tell Mr Carson about the wine.

  * * *

  ANNA: Well, he shouldn’t have stolen it then, should he?

  BATES: No. But I don’t want anyone to lose their job because of me.

  ANNA: Even Thomas? Even after what they tried to do to you?

  BATES: Even then.

  She smiles. She approves of this, really.

  * * *

  13 INT. LIBRARY. DOWNTON. NIGHT.

  Robert is reading, with Pharaoh at his feet. Carson enters.

  CARSON: I’m sorry to disturb you, m’lord.

  Robert waits as Carson closes the door. He holds a letter.

  CARSON (CONT’D): I don’t know how I missed the gong. I must’ve been distracted.

  ROBERT: Never mind. These things happen.

  To Carson’s dismay, Robert assumes that was why he came.

  ROBERT (CONT’D): While you’re here, Carson, I’m afraid I was angrier at dinner than the situation warranted. I hope the servants won’t make too much of it.*

  CARSON: Well. They like a story. But they move on quick enough.

  ROBERT: I don’t want Branson to be upset. I got the wrong end of the stick, and I rather let rip.

  CARSON: He’ll get over it.

  ROBERT: But what are we going to do if Lady Sybil turns political? I’m sorry. Was there something else?

  Carson glances at the letter, but this isn’t the time.

  CARSON: No, m’lord. Good night.

  * * *

  14 INT. HALL. DOWNTON. NIGHT.

  Carson emerges, just as Cora is at the foot of the stairs.

  CARSON: Your ladyship, do you have a moment?

  CORA: Of course. What is it?

  * * *

  CARSON: Could we go in here?

  He’s opened the dining room door and turned on the lights.

  CORA: Heavens, how mysterious.

  15 INT. DINING ROOM. DOWNTON. NIGHT.

  Carson closes the door. Cora waits.

  * * *

  CARSON: I’ve received a letter, m’lady. From a friend of mine. He’s valet to the Marquess of Flintshire.

  CORA: I don’t envy him.*

  CARSON: Lord Flintshire is a minister a
t the Foreign Office …

  CORA: As you know, Lady Flintshire is his lordship’s cousin.

  CARSON: Of course, of course. The point is, he has dealings with the Turkish Ambassador.

  Suddenly, Cora realises what’s coming. Carson ploughs on.

  CARSON (CONT’D): It seems His Excellency has made him privy to a scurrilous story concerning Lady Mary and … the late Mr Pamuk.†

  CORA: May I read this letter?

  He holds out the letter. She is like ice as she takes it and starts to read.

  CARSON: Is there anything you’d like me to do about it?

  CORA: No, thank you. Sometimes, even to deny these things is only to throw paraffin onto the flames.

  CARSON: I did try to inform his lordship.

  CORA: What?

  CARSON: But I couldn’t seem to find the right moment.

  She can breathe again.

  CORA: Quite right. Please leave his lordship to me.

  16 INT. KITCHEN PASSAGE. DOWNTON. NIGHT.

  O’BRIEN: I’m sorry. The only sure way to get rid of a servant is to have him or her suspected of stealing.

  O’Brien is plotting with Thomas.

  THOMAS: Aren’t you forgetting we’ve tried that? And it didn’t work.

  O’BRIEN: But last time, we invented a theft. What we need is to make him a suspect when something’s really been stolen.

  THOMAS: How do we know anything’s been stolen?

  O’BRIEN: Because you stole it, you noodle.

  THOMAS: Oh. You mean the wine.

  O’BRIEN: Yes, the wine.

  THOMAS: But that’s the whole point. Bates knows I took it. He was threatening to tell Mr Carson.

  O’BRIEN: Well, he can’t, can he? Not if we get to him first.

  END OF ACT ONE

  ACT TWO

  17 INT. CARSON’S PANTRY. DOWNTON. NIGHT.

  CARSON: Are you telling me you saw him take the cellar key?

  Carson is talking to Thomas.

  THOMAS: Not exactly. But I saw him in here and I thought the key was swinging on its hook.

  Carson listens to this without comment.

  THOMAS (CONT’D): I just wondered if you’d noticed if any of the wine was missing?

  18 INT. CORA’S BEDROOM. DOWNTON. NIGHT.

  Cora and Robert are in bed together.

  ROBERT: I think I owe you an apology after the way I spoke at dinner.

  CORA: Next time you want to treat me like a naughty schoolgirl, you might do it in private and not in front of the servants.

  ROBERT: You’re right. I’m sorry.*

  CORA: Of course, it gave your mother her best evening since Christmas.

  ROBERT: Even so, we must try to keep control of Sybil.

  CORA: Robert, believe me, Sybil is not your problem.

  He ponders this response as she blows out her lamp.

  CORA (CONT’D): We’ve got to support Mary this year, when we get to London.

  ROBERT: But it’s Sybil’s first Season. We can’t have Mary stealing her thunder.

  CORA: Sybil’ll do well enough. It’s time Mary was settled. High time.

  He is getting sleepy, so he just accepts this.

  ROBERT: Poor old Edith. We never seem to talk about her.

  CORA: I’m afraid Edith will be the one to care for us in our old age.

  ROBERT: What a ghastly prospect.

  For Edith or for them, he does not make clear.

  * * *

  19 INT. SERVANTS’ HALL. DOWNTON. DAY.

  A new morning. Bates leaves breakfast as Carson arrives.

  CARSON: I wonder if I might have a word with you later, Mr Bates.

  BATES: Of course. As soon as I’ve finished his lordship.

  Carson nods briskly and goes. Anna has overheard this.

  ANNA: What’s that about?

  BATES: Search me.

  He leaves, but Anna turns to find O’Brien looking at her.

  * * *

  20 INT. DRAWING ROOM. DOWNTON. DAY.

  Mary, in a riding habit, gloves, hat and veil, walks in.

  MARY: Mama? Anna said you wanted me.

  CORA: Look who’s paid us a visit.

  She stands, making the guest stand also. He is none other than Sir Anthony Strallan. Edith is with them.

  MARY: Sir Anthony. How nice. We all thought we’d driven you away with that horrible salty pudding.

  STRALLAN: No, indeed. But I have been away.

  EDITH: He’s been in Austria and Germany.

  MARY: How interesting.

  STRALLAN: Interesting. And worrying.

  Cora wants to move things along.

  CORA: Sir Anthony is here to show you his new car.

  STRALLAN: I’ve rather taken to driving myself and I have to keep finding destinations to justify it.

  MARY: What kind of car is it?

  STRALLAN: It’s an open Rolls-Royce. I wondered if you might like a spin in it.

  MARY: How kind. But, alas, not today. I’ve had Diamond saddled and he’s waiting for me.

  CORA: You could ride this afternoon.

  MARY: It’s arranged now. But thank you, Sir Anthony. Do ask me again.

  EDITH: I don’t suppose you’d take me.

  Strallan is enough of a gentleman to know he’s trapped.

  STRALLAN: Of course! I should be delighted.

  Cora is not best pleased.

  21 INT. CARSON’S PANTRY. DOWNTON. DAY.

  Bates is standing before Carson.

  BATES: What is it that I am accused of?

  CARSON: Nobody is ‘accusing’ you of anything. But there’s been a suggestion you were handling the cellar key. Before I take it any further, I want to find out if there’s a simple explanation.

  BATES: Because some wine is missing.

  CARSON: How do you know that?

  Bates is not prepared to explain.

  CARSON (CONT’D): Right. Well, we’ll leave it there for now.

  * * *

  22 EXT. DOWNTON VILLAGE. DAY.

  Sybil is walking towards the Crawleys’ front door.

  23 INT. DRAWING ROOM. CRAWLEY HOUSE. DAY.

  Isobel is with Sybil.

  ISOBEL: No, I shan’t be going into Ripon on election night and nor should you. Not again. Yesterday was quite frightening enough. What would your father say?

  SYBIL: You know how he hates politics. He says that since he’s a peer and we’re all women, there isn’t a vote in the house to be had, and they should leave us alone.

  ISOBEL: Well, he’s right that politics can be a rough ride. I support women’s rights and I’m glad you do. But you won’t help the cause by getting caught in a stampede.

  SYBIL: But I do so want to go. To feel part of it if Morgan* wins, and to support him if he loses.

  ISOBEL: Very commendable, but my advice is to do it by post.

  The door opens and Matthew comes in.

  ISOBEL (CONT’D): Hello. What are you doing here?

  MATTHEW: I thought I’d get some luncheon off you. I’m taking down a will in the next village at two.

  SYBIL: I ought to be going. Don’t bother Molesley.

  24 INT. HALL. CRAWLEY HOUSE. DAY.

  Matthew shuts the door. Isobel has followed them.

  MATTHEW: What did she want?

  ISOBEL: A partner in crime.

  MATTHEW: Did she get one?

  ISOBEL: Not this time.

  * * *

  25 EXT. COUNTRY LANE. DAY.

  Edith and Strallan are bowling along in his car.

  STRALLAN: The Kaiser is such a mercurial figure, one minute the warlord, the next a lovelorn poet.

  EDITH: But a poet in need of an empire.

  STRALLAN: That’s very good. ‘A poet in need of an empire.’ My late wife always used to say …

  EDITH: What did Lady Strallan say?

  STRALLAN: Never mind.

  EDITH: But I should like to hear it.

  STRALLAN: Really? Would you, really?

  She nods. He is v
ery touched. As she intended him to be.

  STRALLAN (CONT’D): She used to say Kaiser Bill loved uniforms and medals but he never really connected them with fighting.

  He laughs and Edith laughs, too.

  EDITH: What was she like?

  STRALLAN: Maud? Oh, she was awfully funny. Some people couldn’t see it, but she was …

  Edith is doing very well.

  26 EXT. STABLE YARD. DOWNTON. DAY.

  William crosses the yard to the woodsheds with a basket, as Mary arrives, leading her horse.

  MARY: Is Lynch anywhere about?*

  WILLIAM: I haven’t seen him, m’lady.

  MARY: My horse is lame.

  She stands by the animal. William hesitates.

  WILLIAM: I could have a look at him.

  MARY: Do you know about horses?

  WILLIAM: I grew up on a farm, m’lady.

  MARY: Well, if you think you can help.

  She stands back and William approaches the animal, handling it confidently and examining its hoof without alarming it.

  WILLIAM: He’s graveled.

  MARY: You mean he’s picked up a stone?

  WILLIAM: No, it’s an infection. From dirt getting in. He must have been shod recently.

  MARY: I wouldn’t know.

  WILLIAM: That’s when it starts.

  MARY: So, it’s not too serious?

  WILLIAM: Oh, no. I’ll clean it up and put a poultice on.

  He starts to lead the horse into its open loose box. Mary watches, eventually leaning on the half door.

  MARY: Shouldn’t you wait for Lynch?

  WILLIAM: He won’t mind. He knows I can handle horses.

  MARY: Did you look after the horses on your father’s farm?

  WILLIAM: I did. Best job in the world.