Downton Abbey

by Julian Fellowes

  ROBERT: Lady Mary has spoken to me. You are free to make your choice of whether you leave or stay.

  CARSON: M’lord, this is not easy for me. I had always expected to serve out my time here and lie at the end in the Downton churchyard.

  ROBERT: But you feel Lady Mary needs you.

  CARSON: I feel I must go where I can be most useful. I hope you understand.

  ROBERT: I understand. You will not be easy to replace, but… I wish you well, Carson, whatever you decide. Now, hadn’t you better ring the gong?

  * At the time, it must have been incredibly difficult for people to imagine what President Wilson was determined on, which was the republicanisation of Europe. I am a monarchist, a constitutional monarchist, but a monarchist quand même, and I think that Wilson’s insistence on republics was disastrous for Europe. It’s unfashionable to say so now, and people have moved on, but he didn’t understand that creating a vacuum in Germany was bound to lead to the rise of a demagogue, which it did in the shape of Hitler, and in Austria, too. He simply didn’t grasp what he was risking. The American republic has managed to generate sufficient charisma to survive. The US Presidency and the concept of the First Family have always had a glamour from the early days, which took the place of a monarchical presence in their society. But very few European republics – with the possible exception of the French – have managed the same. Few, outside their countries, could name the President of Portugal or Poland or Romania or even Austria, which once dominated the globe. But Wilson was fixed in this position, and he insisted on connecting post-war aid with the downfall of the thrones. Before the war ended, it was generally thought that Crown Princess Cecile would be made Regent of Germany. She was popular and she could have presided until her sons were old enough to take over, but it was not done, and Hitler was the result.

  For me, the point is that none of this was inevitable, and I always take any opportunity to point out that history is not inevitable. When I was young, the subject was always taught as if there was some inexorable Marxist march, and you couldn’t get out of the way. But it’s all nonsense. Everything that happens turns on slight accidents, an unfortunate personality, or the fact that it was raining, or someone was late for an appointment.

  47 INT. DRAWING ROOM. CRAWLEY HOUSE. DAY.

  Molesley is serving tea to Violet, Cora and Isobel, who is awkward. She has something to get off her chest.

  CORA: Your seedcake is so much better than Mrs Patmore’s. I wonder if Mrs Bird could give her some tips.

  ISOBEL: I’ll ask her… The truth is, Cora, there is a reason for inviting you here today and I very much fear I’m going to be a great disappointment to you.

  CORA: Oh?

  ISOBEL: Cousin Violet is in part to blame.

  VIOLET: Yes, I usually am.

  ISOBEL: It was she who drew my attention to the plight of the war refugees. This area, like every other, must play its part in resettling them.

  CORA: Of course.

  ISOBEL: And I am forced to concede that I do have skills and experience, after my war work, that make me uniquely qualified to help.

  VIOLET: Who could doubt it?

  ISOBEL: I feel very guilty since I chivvied you, and now I’m jumping ship. But I can’t run Downton as well.

  CORA: You must go where you can make a difference.

  ISOBEL: Well, this is what I think. But I hope you will consider keeping the house open, without me.

  CORA: I must be honest with you. It was your idea, not ours, so I doubt very much we’ll go on with it now. But what does that matter when one thinks of the work you’ll be doing? Don’t you agree, Mama?

  VIOLET: I — I cannot find the words to say how I feel. What do you think, Molesley?

  MOLESLEY: Sometimes Fate knows best, m’lady.

  VIOLET: I couldn’t put it better, myself.

  48 INT. THE MOTOR CAR. DAY.

  Isobel steps back. The car pulls away.

  CORA: There really is something for her to do?

  VIOLET: Absolutely. It’s all set up. I had to promise to be a patron, but it seemed a small price to pay.

  CORA: I know it was for Robert and the girls, but I thank you, without irony, from the bottom of my heart.

  VIOLET: And I accept your thanks, my dear, with no trace of irony, either.

  They drive on, unusually at peace.

  49 INT. LIBRARY. DOWNTON. NIGHT.

  Edith is with Patrick Gordon.

  EDITH: Lawyers take forever to answer anything. So they can charge more.

  GORDON: But the others don’t believe me, do they? Not like you.

  EDITH: I think they want to be certain.

  GORDON: But how can they ever be? If the lawyer casts even the slightest doubt, won’t that give them the excuse to cut me out and stay with Matthew? If only one of them recognised me.

  EDITH: They will do, soon. I know it.

  GORDON: No, they won’t. They’ve forgotten me.

  He shoves the table in frustration.

  GORDON (CONT’D): I’m a stranger to them now!

  EDITH: Well, you’re not a stranger to me.

  50 INT. SERVANTS’ HALL. DOWNTON. NIGHT.

  It is late. The servants have finished dinner.

  O’BRIEN: I wouldn’t be Vera Bates. He left here at dawn with a face like thunder. I wonder if she knows what she’s started.

  THOMAS: If I were you, I’d keep out of it.

  ANNA: Wise words.

  She has come in, followed by Jane who sits next to Daisy.

  MRS PATMORE: How did you get on?

  JANE: Yeah, it was interesting… Daisy, I wish you’d let me tell you about it.

  DAISY: There’s no point.

  O’BRIEN: No point in what?

  DAISY: Jane keeps making out I’m a war widow. But I’m not, am I? You all know that. I married William on his death bed. That don’t count.

  ANNA: Of course it counts.

  DAISY: I don’t think so. And I wasn’t good to him. He thought I loved him, but I didn’t. I don’t think I did. Not like he loved me. I should never have married him in the first place, only he were — dying and… We all liked him so much, didn’t we? All of us?

  She looks round at her fellow workers.

  MRS PATMORE: Everyone liked William.

  CARSON: He was a fine lad.

  DAISY: He was, wasn’t he? Good-natured and kind and sunny to have around, and it didn’t feel right not to make him happy when it seemed like such a little thing. Only now I don’t think it was little. I think it was big. And I shouldn’t have done it.

  MRS HUGHES: Marrying him was a great kindness —

  DAISY: No! It wasn’t kind. It was wrong. And I shouldn’t have done it!

  She runs out, bumping into Bates in the doorway. In their shock, it is a moment before they register the new arrival.

  MRS HUGHES: Mr Bates? How did you get here?

  BATES: I walked from the station.

  CARSON: You should have said; we’d have sent someone to meet you.

  BATES: I was glad of the walk. I was glad of the air.

  He’s bruised. Anna approaches, drawing him into the passage.

  ANNA: I never thought you’d be back tonight. How was it?

  BATES: Worse than you can possibly imagine.

  She goes to touch the bruise on his face, but he gently brushes her hand away.

  ANNA: What’s —?

  51 INT. SMALL LIBRARY. DOWNTON. DAY.

  All the family are in there. Robert is talking.

  MARY: I assume that whatever Mr Murray has told you means the man is a fake. You can’t have asked Matthew to be here unless you know that.

  ROBERT: It’s very complicated. Lowe was the only officer to go back to the site of the wreck. He did pull some people out of the sea and it seems one of the men was unidentified.

  EDITH: There!

  ROBERT: One of the reports has him dying before they reached the Carpathia.

  MARY: Precisely.

  ROBERT
: Another witness says the man did get to New York alive, but there’s no clear record of his name.

  EDITH: Which could be Patrick Crawley.

  ROBERT: There’s more. There was a Peter Gordon, who worked with Patrick at Martin’s Bank.* Now, he emigrated to Montreal in 1913.

  VIOLET: Yes, and when his face was blown away he decided every cloud has a silver lining. He was perfectly placed to impersonate his dead friend. I mean, no doubt they shared confidences, so he just brushed them up, and put himself forward for a major inheritance.

  MARY: Granny’s right. All he needed was a survivor from the Titanic who was unaccounted for, and he found one.

  EDITH: But the Titanic story bears out Patrick’s version in every way!

  MARY: The man in the boat was dead.

  EDITH: Not according to the other witness.

  CORA: What do you think?

  ROBERT: I don’t know what to think.

  MARY: How can you even hesitate?

  EDITH: But Mary, you haven’t heard the things he remembers —

  MARY: I don’t need to. ‘I remember how we played, and your pony and your birthday, and how we hid in the garden from the nasty governess.’

  This is so like what he did say that Edith is silenced.

  MARY (CONT’D): What other memories would you have of a childhood spent here?

  ROBERT: Murray will continue to investigate so, Edith, can we be polite to the man, but nothing more? The end of the war should make it easier to unearth the evidence. That is all for the time being.

  CORA: How strange it is. You pray and hope and hope and pray and then, quite suddenly, the war is over.

  ROBERT: I thought Carlisle was going to come back for our ceremony tomorrow. But he never sent a train time.

  MARY: He’s driving up. He’ll be here in time for dinner tonight.

  They have risen to go. Robert is with Matthew.

  ROBERT: I’m sorry I can’t be more decisive.

  MATTHEW: Don’t be. I meant what I said the other day. It will take a man who is more than I am now to follow you. So, don’t think about me.

  ROBERT: My dear chap, how can you say that? I never think about anything else.

  * I cannot now remember why Hugh Bonneville altered the place where Major Gordon and the real Patrick had worked together. It became the Foreign Office, whereas I had it as Martin’s Bank, which I should have thought quite as smart as the Foreign Office, but there must have been some reason for the change.

  52 EXT. FOLLY. DOWNTON. DAY.

  Edith is in the folly with Major Gordon.

  EDITH: Tomorrow, when we all assemble to hear the clock strike, I’m going to introduce you properly to Mama.

  GORDON: But what do they make of this Peter Gordon character they’ve uncovered? Do they think that’s who I am?

  EDITH: Do you remember him?

  GORDON: Very well. Peter and I were good friends. Very good friends.

  EDITH: Did you know he’d moved to Canada?

  GORDON: How could I? When I’d forgotten who I was until two months ago?

  EDITH: Of course.

  GORDON: So what will they do now?

  EDITH: Track him down, I imagine. Find out what happened to him.

  GORDON: Suppose he joined the Princess Pat Light Infantry?

  EDITH: I don’t understand. What are you saying? Why would he?

  Gordon looks at Edith quite tenderly.

  GORDON: You’re very sweet, you know. So sweet you made me think that all things were possible. But perhaps the lesson is, you can’t go back.

  EDITH: You’re tired and I don’t blame you. But you’re not to give up. I won’t let you. We’ll find this Peter Gordon. I know we will.

  GORDON: Yes. I expect you will.

  EDITH: And then won’t we show them?*

  * Trevor White was very good as Gordon. He brought a curiously touching quality to his whole performance, layered in with his bully-boy scheming and manipulation of Edith, which also deepens into something different. In other words, he did good and interesting work for us. I was especially impressed by his breakdown in Scene 49. This was written to be in the library, but was played in the hall among all the men at their refectory tables, which was better. In fact, I am probably questioned about when he is coming back more than people ask about almost any other character. I may resolve the story one day. I am tempted.

  One of Emma’s and my charities is called Changing Faces. It’s for people who are severely facially disfigured, either by birth or after an accident, or as the consequence of an operation. It is led by an extraordinarily charismatic chap called James Partridge, whom we both admire enormously. One of their fundraisings was a Downton evening, with Michelle Dockery and Trevor White as the celebrities. Guests were interested to meet the actor who had played a disfigured character, who was nevertheless a principal in the narrative, with a romantic sub-plot. Apparently, this does not usually happen, which makes me slightly ashamed of my profession. I’m always very moved, actually, when I go to the Changing Faces events, because I look around at these really rather marvellous men and women, and I just think: what on earth am I complaining about?

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

  Carson is reviewing the wine books. Mrs Hughes arrives.

  MRS HUGHES: They’ll be going in to dinner in a minute.

  He nods and stands, but glances back at the pages.

  CARSON: We’ve built a good cellar here, you know. I’m not saying it’s legendary, but it’s nothing to be ashamed of.

  She knows well enough what this means.

  MRS HUGHES: You’ve made your mind up, then?

  CARSON: I think so. Yes, I think I have. But with a heavy heart, Mrs Hughes.

  MRS HUGHES: And just when we thought we were getting back to normal.

  CARSON: Don’t tell me you’ll miss me.

  MRS HUGHES: I will, Mr Carson. Very much. And it costs me nothing to say it.

  CARSON: Thank you. That means a lot to me.

  54 INT. DINING ROOM. DOWNTON. NIGHT.

  Dinner is over. Cora and her daughters are there. Robert, in black tie, stands. He glances at Matthew in his wheelchair.

  ROBERT: Shall we go through with the ladies? And let them get in here?

  MATTHEW: Of course.

  CORA: I wonder what happened to Richard.

  MARY: He’ll have started late, and —

  But there is a noise. Carson goes to investigate but Richard Carlisle comes in. They are all standing now.

  CARLISLE: Oh, I do apologise, Lady Grantham. We got stuck in Royston and a cart had overturned in Baldock.*

  CORA: Hello, my dear, how lovely to see you.

  For a moment, the others are puzzled. But then Lavinia appears from behind Carlisle and steps into the room.

  LAVINIA: Are you sure? Sir Richard said you were expecting me, but are you?

  Robert has been looking at Cora, but now he smiles.

  ROBERT: Of course we are.

  CORA: Can you take Matthew into the small library? Are you hungry? We’ve finished, but Mrs Hughes can easily put something on a tray. Carson?

  Carson nods and retreats to the servery door.

  * Royston and Baldock refer to the days of my youth, when I was at Ampleforth College in Yorkshire, a part of my very Catholic education. In those days, there was no M1, and you had to drive up on the A1, which, before all the motorway stretches and bypasses, was essentially the old carriageway made good. On this journey, you passed through Royston and Baldock, and my parents always used to stop for lunch in one or the other. One time, I missed a term at school, as I’d been in a car crash. I had cracked my skull – which explains a lot – and I was kept at home for the summer term. Ill-advisedly, my parents decided to take me with them when they drove up for what was known as ‘Exhibition’, to visit my brothers. I remember I slept in my house, St Bede’s, and I’ve never enjoyed anything so much, because I knew I was going home at the end of it, on Monday. Of course, all the oth
er boys in the dormitory were jealous and furious, but my father felt he’d paid for the whole term, and he was damned if he was going to pay my hotel bill on top of it, so I could jolly well sleep in the school. I don’t think he realised the extent of the naughtiness he was inviting, but it is a happy memory even now, including the drive through Royston and Baldock.

  55 INT. SMALL LIBRARY. DOWNTON. NIGHT.

  Lavinia pushes Matthew’s chair in through the door.

  MATTHEW: Nothing’s changed.

  LAVINIA: But you see, it has. Because I’ve changed. When I was last here, I was so bowled over that I let you send me away. But not this time. I love you. I’m going to look after you. That’s all there is to it.

  MATTHEW: And if I refuse?

  LAVINIA: I’m sorry but I mean it. You won’t frighten me away, whatever you do.

  56 INT. DINING ROOM. DOWNTON. NIGHT.

  Robert and Cora are alone in the room.

  CORA: Before you scold me, it’s no good pretending Mary is not a good deal too attached to Matthew.

  ROBERT: So you summon Lavinia? To be sacrificed like some latter-day Iphigenia, doomed to push his chair through all eternity?

  CORA: Robert, it’s quite simple. Do you want Mary’s marriage to be a success? Do you want grandchildren?

  ROBERT: Sometimes, Cora, you can be curiously unfeeling.*

  * Cora and Robert are fighting it out. Robert feels, and there is justice in his viewpoint, that there is no moral reason why Lavinia should be sacrificed on the altar of Matthew any more than Mary, but that’s not Cora’s way of thinking. As I have pointed out before now, Cora is a mother and Mary is her child. As far as she’s concerned, her daughter is the one to be saved. She doesn’t dislike Lavinia, in fact she likes her, but if Lavinia has got to be sacrificed to save Mary from a wasted and childless life, then tough. I do not know that I speak for all mothers in this rather blinkered approach, but I certainly speak for my own.

  57 INT. HALL. DOWNTON. NIGHT.

  Mary has come out of the dining room with Carlisle. They are overtaken by Sybil and Edith, who all follow Matthew and Lavinia into the small library. As soon as Mary and Carlisle are alone, it is clear that Mary is very angry.

  MARY: Suppose he doesn’t want her back? Have you thought of that?

  CARLISLE: He needs someone to look after him.

  MARY: Yes, but —