Mary nods. She’s very calm as they step back from the lovers.
MARY: What was Clarkson saying?
ROBERT: Nothing to worry you about.†
Matthew watches Lavinia approach and lifts his hand to greet her.
MATTHEW: My darling.
* The doctors in England were obliged to work with the diagnoses that had been arrived at in the field hospitals, and the business with the labels and so on is all true. A diagnosis would be made and written on a label, which would then be tied to the patient, who’d be sent to a hospital, either in France, or over the sea to England. Here, we have a situation where Matthew’s spine is very, very bruised, which would render him paralysed for a period, but the doctors at the front believe the spine has been broken, and it is correct that the symptoms would be the same. All of this happened in real life. So I confess I was rather irritated when the newspapers started to suggest that we were saying his spine had been severed but somehow, miraculously, he managed to walk again. Obviously we never said any such thing, and I can only suppose that the journalists concerned were displaying their usual indifference to truth and never actually checked what had happened in the show. There were, in fact, several instances where doctors at the front, working under the most severe and difficult conditions, did mistake extreme spinal bruising for transection. I’m not pretending it was terribly common, but it certainly happened. And what Clarkson doesn’t want to do is to suggest that it might be bruising when the likelihood had to be that the spine was severed. He felt it would be cruel to give Matthew false hope, and I’m with him on that one.
This is where Mary has to deal with the fact that Matthew is going to be crippled, and we are fairly explicit that there will be no more sexual activity for him. You do see dramas where the suggestion is that men can be paralysed, but still be sexually active. This is not true; certainly it was not true during the First World War, and we try to make that clear. Of course, this being Downton, we don’t draw diagrams.
† Part of this kind of drama is deliberately putting people into a situation where the audience will know more about what the characters are going through than the other characters will. So, you engineer uncomfortable meetings, and then you let the audience fill in the detail. That’s what we do here, when Lavinia arrives. Robert has nothing against Lavinia, and he and Mary treat her as the fiancée uncomplicated, when the audience knows it’s not as simple as that.
31 EXT. COUNTRY TOWN. DAY.
Mrs Hughes gets off a bus with two covered baskets. She walks down a side street of this strange town. She arrives at a very humble cottage and knocks. Ethel opens the door.
32 INT. ETHEL’S COTTAGE. DAY.
Ethel is unpacking the baskets, while Mrs Hughes bends over a little baby in his makeshift cot.
MRS HUGHES: If he could only see the child.*
ETHEL: He won’t. I’ve written again and again. I’ve offered to bring him to any place he wants.
MRS HUGHES: I wasn’t going to tell you this, but he’s coming on a visit this week. To see his old pals.
ETHEL: Help me, Mrs Hughes. Let me come to Downton and show him the baby.
MRS HUGHES: Most certainly not. I won’t allow that.
ETHEL: Then ask him to meet me. I know he’d listen to you. I’ll give you a letter. One more can’t hurt. Make him read it in front of you —
MRS HUGHES: I’ll do no such thing.
ETHEL: But please.
MRS HUGHES: He’d say it was none of my business, and he’d be right. Besides, don’t think I approve of what you’ve done, because I don’t.
ETHEL: Haven’t you ever made a mistake?
MRS HUGHES: Not on this scale, no, I have not. Sorry to disappoint you.
ETHEL: So you won’t do anything?
MRS HUGHES: I’m feeding you out of the house. Quite wrongly, I might add. I’ve a good mind to stop that.
ETHEL: Now I’m the one who’s sorry.
Mrs Hughes starts to tidy up the baskets…
MRS HUGHES: I’ll take the letter and see that he gets it. But that’s all I’ll do.
* The Ethel story was useful to me, because I like to remind people that not everyone was living at Downton’s level of comfort, even as a servant; that, in this world, there were many levels beneath the protected Downton life, as there are today. The majority had a tough deal, and some had a very tough deal indeed. Also, what’s important for quite a few stories is to remind the generation under thirty-five that sexual freedom risked pregnancy, and, in those days, an unwanted pregnancy ruined lives. Modern young producers tend to believe that there was always lots of sexual activity between unmarried people but they just hid it, when this is quite untrue, because there was too much at stake. Obviously, there were people who slept together, and there were illegitimate children – Ethel’s son is one of them – but, on the whole, the abyss that opened beneath your feet if you got pregnant when you were unmarried, in any class, was bottomless. And you need the audience to know that in order for them to understand some of the other characters’ reactions. But of course we also wanted a plot that gave us a bit of a rest from the war.
33 INT. BEDROOM PASSAGE. DOWNTON. DAY.
Mrs Patmore is almost dragging Daisy. They come to a halt.
MRS PATMORE: Now, go in.
DAISY: I don’t know what to say.
MRS PATMORE: It doesn’t matter. He’s dying. Just say nice, warm, comforting things. Make him feel loved. You don’t have to be Shakespeare.
DAISY: But —
Mrs Patmore has opened the door and pushed her inside.
34 INT. WILLIAM’S ROOM. DOWNTON. DAY.
Edith is with William, who’s awake but weak, as Daisy comes in.
WILLIAM: Here she is. Come over here, where I can see you.
She sits by the bed and takes his hand.
WILLIAM (CONT’D): By ’eck, it were worth it, if I get to hold your hand.
DAISY: Don’t be daft.
WILLIAM: I’ve never slept in a room as big as this. Where are we?
EDITH: At the end of the south gallery. Now, take this.
WILLIAM: Any news of Captain Crawley?
Edith gives Daisy a quick glance as she takes back the spoon.
EDITH: He’s doing much better. Thanks to you. We’re all so grateful.
This cheers William and he gives a smile to Daisy.
WILLIAM: Dad’ll be here in a bit. Can you stay for a minute?
DAISY: I ought to go down… It’s not fair on Mrs Patmore.
EDITH: She won’t mind.
WILLIAM: Because… I did want to ask you something… Daisy, would you ever marry me now? And not wait for the end of the war, like we said?
EDITH: You mustn’t worry about all that for the moment now, William. You’re here for rest, not excitement.
DAISY: That’s right. There’s no need to worry about it now. First, let’s get you better.
WILLIAM: But would you think about it?
DAISY: I must go. They’ll be sending out a search party soon.
She stands and hurries to the door, then looks back.
DAISY (CONT’D): Just rest.*
* Now we have the proposal that Daisy has dreaded, and what makes it worse is that nobody’s in any doubt that William is dying. So, for Daisy, there isn’t really any reason not to take this lie to the finishing line. But she is torn, honourably torn, I would say, between the desire to make him happy at the last, and the need for there to be truth between them before he dies. Should she go on with the lie and be kind? Or should she let him die, knowing the truth and miserable?
35 INT. MRS HUGHES’S SITTING ROOM. DOWNTON. DAY.
Mrs Hughes is with a woman, Jane Moorsum, in her thirties.
MRS HUGHES: It would be very unusual.
JANE: I know that. Of course it would. But I believe I could make it work.
MRS HUGHES: And if your child were ill?
JANE: My mother knows what she’s doing. She’s brought up five of her own.
>
MRS HUGHES: Even so…
JANE: And they’re only in the village.
MRS HUGHES: I’ll discuss it with Mr Carson. There’s nothing wrong with your references, but of course they are from before you were married.
JANE: I’m a good worker. And I must earn.
36 INT. HOSPITAL. DOWNTON VILLAGE. DAY.
Matthew is asleep. Mary is with him.
MARY (V.O.): Matthew? Matthew?
He opens his eyes.
MATTHEW: Hello.
MARY: Are you feeling a bit less groggy?
MATTHEW: A bit. Where’s Lavinia?
MARY: She’s gone back to unpack. She came straight here from the station. She’ll take over this afternoon. I have to go up to London.
MATTHEW: How’s William? You know he tried to save me?
MARY: He isn’t too good, I’m afraid.
He nods, accepting this.
MATTHEW: Any sign of Mother?
MARY: Not yet, but I’m sure she’s making her way back by now.
MATTHEW: Has the doctor said anything else?
MARY: Oh, this and that. You’ve taken quite a hammering.
MATTHEW: I certainly have.
For a moment, he looks puzzled.
MATTHEW (CONT’D): I’ve still got this funny thing with my legs. I can’t seem to move them. Or feel them, now that I think about it. Did Clarkson mention what that might be?
MARY: Why don’t we wait for Lavinia, and then we can all talk about it?
MATTHEW: Tell me.
MARY: And you’ve not even been here for twenty-four hours. Nothing will have settled down yet.
MATTHEW: Tell me.
She can’t get out of it. So she is quite straightforward.
MARY: He says you may have damaged your spine.
MATTHEW: How long will it take to repair?
MARY: We can’t expect them to put timings on that sort of thing.
MATTHEW: But he did say it would get better?
MARY: He says the first task is to rebuild your health, and that’s what we have to concentrate on.
Of course he understands what she is saying.
MATTHEW: I see.
MARY: And he says there was no reason why you should not have a perfectly full and normal life.
MATTHEW: Just not a very mobile one.
They stare at each other for a moment.
MARY: Would you like some tea? I would.
She stands. As she goes, he speaks. His eyes are full.
MATTHEW: Thank you for telling me. I know I’m blubbing, but I mean it. I’d much rather know. Thank you.
MARY: Blub all you like. And then, when Lavinia’s here, you can make plans.
She walks away briskly. Tears are pouring down her cheeks.
END OF ACT TWO
ACT THREE
37 INT. LIBRARY. DOWNTON. DAY.
Mrs Hughes approaches Bryant, who is with a group of invalids.
BRYANT: What was going on through there? It sounded as if Doctor Clarkson was getting it in the neck.
MRS HUGHES: I’m sure it was nothing.
Bryant rolls his eyes and they all laugh.
MRS HUGHES (CONT’D): Major, might I have a word?
This is a surprise to all of them, but Bryant rises politely.
BRYANT: What is it?
MRS HUGHES: I have something for you.
They are standing apart and speaking softly. He smiles, but when he sees the writing he doesn’t take the envelope.
BRYANT: Thank you.
MRS HUGHES: I wish you would read it.
BRYANT: Do you know who wrote it?
MRS HUGHES: Yes. I do. And I know how anxious she is for an answer.
BRYANT: With due respect, I don’t believe it’s any of your concern.
She steps in closer and lowers her voice even further.
MRS HUGHES: If you’d only — if you’d only see the child. He’s a lovely wee chap —
BRYANT: Mrs Hughes, the last thing I’d wish to be is rude, but in this case I really must be left to my own devices. Now, I’ll say goodbye. It’s time I was making tracks.
She is forced to accept this. She can do no more.
MRS HUGHES: Goodbye, then, Major.*
* Major Bryant, in a way, is rather a heartless character, but on the other hand, I’m afraid the world is full of heartless men who sleep with women and then don’t want to hear from them again. It is really only his later death that makes the predicament of the child interesting.
38 INT. CORA’S BEDROOM. DOWNTON. NIGHT.
O’Brien is getting Cora ready for bed.
O’BRIEN: She’s a thoroughly nasty woman and I can’t think why Mr Bates married her in the first place.
CORA: But what did her threat consist of?
O’BRIEN: Only that she’s got hold of some story and she’s planning to publish it in the newspapers.
CORA: What story?
O’BRIEN: I think it was… something about Lady Mary. Will that be all, m’lady?
Of course O’Brien knows much more than she is saying. Cora’s veins run with ice. Robert enters, in a dressing gown.
CORA: Thank you, O’Brien. I can manage now.
The maid leaves.
CORA (CONT’D): Robert, did Mary say why she had to go to London all of a sudden?
ROBERT: I gather it was something she wanted to discuss with Carlisle… I ought to try and start calling him Richard. He keeps asking me to.
CORA: She didn’t say what?
ROBERT: Nope. But she seemed to think it was urgent. Wedding stuff?
CORA: Is there any more news on Isobel?
ROBERT: She’s on her way back. They’re just waiting for a boat to put her on. At least she knows he’s safe and… She knows everything…
His voice cracks slightly and she looks at him.
ROBERT (CONT’D): I can’t really talk about him yet, or I’ll start to cry.
CORA: He’s alive, Robert. He’ll be healthy in every other way —
ROBERT: Not, I’m afraid, in every other way. Clarkson says… there can never be any children.
CORA: Oh, no… How tragic.
He is too upset to elaborate.
CORA (CONT’D): So maybe Mary will be better off in the long run.
ROBERT: Don’t ever say that to her. Or anything like it.
39 INT. SIR RICHARD CARLISLE’S OFFICE. LONDON. DAY.*
Mary is with Carlisle in this grand, important room. There is a silence between them as he reviews what he has heard.
CARLISLE: Who’d have thought it? The cold and careful Lady Mary Crawley. Well, we know better now… I’m surprised you haven’t given me some extenuating circumstances.
MARY: I have none. I was foolish and I was paid out for my folly.
CARLISLE: And when I’ve saved you, if I can, do you still expect me to marry you? Knowing this?
MARY: That’s not for me to say.
CARLISLE: Things have changed a bit, though, haven’t they? Of course we both know that, if we marry, people, your people, will think you’ve conferred a great blessing on me. My house will welcome the finest in the land, my children will carry noble blood in their veins.
She looks at him. They are quite well matched, these two.
CARLISLE (CONT’D): But that won’t be the whole story, will it? Not any more.
Mary stands. Her manner is, if anything, more severe.
MARY: Sir Richard, if you think it pains me to ask this favour, you’d be right. But I have no choice if I am not to be an object of ridicule and pity. If you wish to break off our understanding, I’ll accept your decision. After all, it’s never been announced. We may dissolve it with the minimum of discomfort.
CARLISLE: Forgive me. I don’t mean to offend you. I am simply paying you the compliment of being honest. You know, in many ways, if I can manage to bring it off, this will mean we come to the marriage on slightly more equal terms. I think that pleases me.
She has lowered herself and she knows it, b
ut…
MARY: So you’ll do it.
CARLISLE: I’ll try to do it, yes.
MARY: You must act fast.
CARLISLE: I’ll send a car for her as soon as you’ve left. I have the address from the favour before this one.
She holds his glance, then nods and goes to the door.*
MARY: Please let me know what it costs. I’ll find a way to reimburse you.
CARLISLE: Never mind that. As my future wife, you’re entitled to be in my debt.
* When I saw the edit of this scene, after Special Effects had completed the view from the window, I had a problem with Carlisle’s office, because it looked across a roofscape – to tell us, I suppose, that we were in London. But, while a modern senior newspaper executive might have his office on the fortieth floor, it would have been most unlikely in the pre-highrise 1910s and 1920s. On the whole, they would have been in very grand rooms on the first floor, looking out over other grand façades across the road. I tried to have it changed, so that Carlisle was looking across to some very important-looking buildings on the other side of a wide thoroughfare, but for some reason it was more complicated than that. I forget why. I’m afraid I still feel that a 1910s press baron in the attic is not what is commonly known as believable.
* This scene alters the relationship between Richard Carlisle and Mary, because it changes the terms of their deal. Up until now, Carlisle has known that Mary was attracted to him because he’s very rich, and very powerful, and she is bringing to the marriage her noble birth and her social position. He will enter a level of society, and more importantly his children will be born into a level of society, that he would not have been able to reach without her help. In a sense, Mary is the giver, because she could probably get another rich man to marry her if she didn’t marry Carlisle. But the revelation of her past and the fact that she is not undamaged goods means that, in a sense, he is now doing her a favour by going ahead with the arrangement, making it a much more equal exchange. When the series went out, the audience on the whole decided Carlisle was a villain, but I don’t agree. He’s quite straightforward, and he always tells the truth with Mary. Nor is he in the least ashamed of his own origins. All of that, to me anyway, makes him quite an attractive fellow. Added to which, he is very successful, so he can’t be a fool.
40 INT. SMALL LIBRARY. DOWNTON. DAY.
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