Downton Abbey

by Julian Fellowes

  MRS HUGHES: Of course. Shall we go to my room?

  ANNA: There’s no reason Mr Carson shouldn’t hear it. In fact, I think he probably should… You see, I’ve had a request from Sir Richard that you ought to know about…

  * This sequence when Carson describes Mary as a child was originally filmed for the first series, but we ran out of time in the episode, and it was taken out. I fought for its remounting, as I felt it was quite important to know that Mary had won the butler’s heart as a child, and so he would always see the child in her, as opposed to a new servant, who would only have seen a haughty young woman who is conscious of her position. So they reshot it, and I put the case for it to stay in the edit, because for me it was a key moment of Carson’s back story. Happily, the others agreed. I have said before, I’m always sorry it is not really practical to develop a relationship between the children of the family and the servants, which in reality was a very significant part of this set-up. I am constantly receiving letters from old people talking about being given piggy-back rides by favoured footmen and secret treats by the cook. Alas, the problem of ageing child characters has, so far, defeated us, so this story, of the love between Carson and Mary, is the closest we can come to suggesting that side of Downton life.

  12 INT. MATTHEW’S BEDROOM. DOWNTON. NIGHT.

  In a ground-floor room, Bates buttons Matthew’s pyjamas.

  MATTHEW: When the nurses left, I should have asked Molesley to come and help me.

  BATES: I don’t mind, sir. Are you ready?

  Bates lifts him, and swings him from the chair to the bed.

  MATTHEW: You’ve done this before.

  Bates chuckles. He lifts Matthew’s legs and tidies the bed.

  MATTHEW (CONT’D): Bates, can I ask you something? If I started to feel a… tingling in my legs, what do you think that might mean?

  BATES: Have you told Doctor Clarkson?

  MATTHEW: Yes. He says it’s an illusion. A memory of a tingling or something. But, I mean, I do know my back is broken. I understand that I won’t recover, but I do keep feeling it. Or I think I do.

  Bates considers this for a moment.

  BATES: Well, it isn’t a good idea to long for things that can never be.

  MATTHEW: No.

  BATES: But, then again, life’s a funny business. I should wait and see. If something is changing, it will make itself known. Now, will that be all?

  MATTHEW: Yes, thank you… Bates, please don’t tell anyone. I couldn’t bear it if Miss Swire or Mother or… or anyone started to hope.

  BATES: I won’t say a thing. Good night, sir.*

  * I was attacked for this in the newspapers, and yet it’s all medically based. In the case of severe spinal bruising, the returning sensation starts with faint tingling. But the difficulty of tingling is how to read it. If you have a leg amputated, for instance, you can still feel pain in the leg, even though there’s no leg, because the nerves mislead you. And many men would have felt tingling, even though their back was broken and they would never walk again. Matthew is aware of all this, and so I agree with his not telling anyone, just as I agree with Clarkson’s thinking it would have been wrong at the beginning to give him false hope. For Matthew to tell his mother or Lavinia that he’s feeling tingling in his legs would start up a whole colony of rabbits that would be very difficult to get back in their holes. So, I’m entirely on Matthew’s side over that.

  12A EXT. DOWNTON VILLAGE. DAY.

  Mrs Hughes walks through the village and boards a bus.

  13 INT. ETHEL’S COTTAGE. DAY.

  Mrs Hughes is with Ethel.

  MRS HUGHES: I don’t know why I’m doing this. I must be out of my mind.

  ETHEL: Because you know it’s my last chance.

  MRS HUGHES: Well, that’s true. They won’t be back. Not after this trip.

  ETHEL: So what should I do?

  MRS HUGHES: Come to the house. But stay outside in the game larder. I’ll leave some food there and a blanket, and then I’ll try and find a moment alone with Mrs Bryant and tell her about little Charlie. And then, if she asks — only if she asks, mind you — I’ll bring her out to see the child.

  ETHEL: What about him?

  MRS HUGHES: If either of them are in the least interested, it’ll be the mother.

  ETHEL: And do you think she’ll help me?

  MRS HUGHES: She might.

  ETHEL: Suppose she won’t see him?

  MRS HUGHES: Then you’re no worse off than you are already… Look, I shouldn’t be doing it. So if you’re not keen, then for heaven’s sake let’s forget all about it.

  ETHEL: No. I’ll be there. I promise.

  But Mrs Hughes already regrets what she has instigated.*

  * Mrs Hughes was the right character for this, because although she’s very organised and very straightforward, she’s also a rebel against the system, albeit in a very minor way. So it’s not at all out of character for her to attempt to help Ethel. Later, when it’s clear it’s not going to work, then the managerial side of her character kicks in, because she does not believe in disorder and chaos. I thought I had seen a game larder at Highclere, which is why I set the scene in one. A lot of country houses had these often very pretty outside larders for shot birds to hang in the open air, protected from marauding foxes and the like by mesh or grills, and many of them have survived. But not, apparently, the one at Highclere, if it ever existed. Anyway, we did the best we could.

  14 INT. DRAWING ROOM. DOWNTON. DAY.

  The room is normal again. Edith and Sybil are replacing the photographs and things on the chimneypiece.

  EDITH: Where does this go? I’ve forgotten.

  SYBIL: On here, I think… Doesn’t it feel odd to have the rooms back?

  EDITH: And only us to sit in them. I suppose we’ll get used to it.

  SYBIL: I don’t want to get used to it.

  EDITH: What do you mean?

  SYBIL: I know what it is to work now. To have a full day. To be tired in a good way. I don’t want to start dress fittings, or paying calls, or standing behind the guns.

  EDITH: But how does one escape all that?

  SYBIL: I think I’ve found a way to escape.

  EDITH: Nothing too drastic, I hope.

  SYBIL: It is drastic. There’s no going back once I’ve done it. But that’s what I want. No going back.

  EDITH: I don’t want to go back, either.

  SYBIL: Then don’t. You’re far nicer than you were before the war, you know.

  Edith thinks for a moment about her busy times.

  EDITH: Sybil, do you ever think about Major Gordon?

  SYBIL: Not really, no.

  EDITH: So you’re absolutely sure he wasn’t Patrick?

  SYBIL: Don’t be silly. We know he wasn’t. But you’re not to worry. You will find your mission, and next time it’ll be the right one.*

  * The war has altered Edith and Sybil, and the question is: what are they going to do with their lives now? Sybil is much more convinced by her own alteration, so she’s quite happy to engage with the fact that she’s going to live a completely different life from the one she probably would have lived if the war had never happened. Edith isn’t quite ready for that, but she has become nicer, my theory being that, when you feel you are useful and doing something worthwhile, with the soldiers genuinely appreciating your efforts, it brings out the best in you. But the exchange was designed to make the audience aware that Edith is now in search of a purpose.

  15 EXT. DOWNTON VILLAGE. DAY.

  Thomas and O’Brien, in her coat and hat, are outside a large shed, hidden in a side street. He opens the padlock. Inside, the space is crammed with tins and bags and barrels and jars.

  O’BRIEN: Where did you get it all?

  THOMAS: I told you. This bloke from Leeds.

  O’BRIEN: Where did he get it?

  THOMAS: Some’s army surplus, some’s from America. And Ireland… Everywhere. He’s got contacts all over. That’s what I’m paying him for.
<
br />   O’BRIEN: How much have you paid him?

  THOMAS: A lot. But I’m not worried. I’ve taken nothing perishable. This lot’ll last for months. I’ll be sold out long before any of it’s gone off.

  O’BRIEN: Starting with Mrs Patmore…†

  † I got the idea for this story from the first time I was made aware of the black market. This was some years ago when I was in Russia filming the first episode of Sharpe, with Sean Bean. Where we were, in the town of Simferopol, there was a lot of caviar for sale, which you could buy quite cheaply in the shops, perfectly legitimately, and indeed I got quite a lot of it before I was done. But there were also people in the market place selling it for almost nothing. Their patter was that it had fallen off the back of a lorry and so on, when in fact it was old stock, long past its sell-by date, that they’d stolen from dustbins after it had been thrown out, and it was dry and quite inedible. The truth is, the moment you’re dealing with expensive or rare food that goes off and is liable to end up in a rubbish bin, still in its original tins or packaging, you will find that this sort of thing goes on. Thomas’s story was born of that.

  16 INT. BOUDOIR. DOWNTON. DAY.

  Mary is with Carson. She is obviously upset.

  MARY: But Carson, if you’re abandoning me, I think I deserve to know the reason why.

  CARSON: I do not believe that Sir Richard and I would work well together.

  MARY: But there must be more to it than that. You knew what Sir Richard was like. We were to educate him, together, you and I. Wasn’t that the plan?

  After an agonising silence, Carson decides on the truth.

  CARSON: Sir Richard offered Anna a sum of money to report your activities to him. Whom you saw, what you said…

  MARY: He wanted her to spy on me?

  CARSON: Naturally he used a different word.

  MARY: Naturally. And she refused.

  CARSON: She refused and she reported the offer to Mrs Hughes and me.

  MARY: Well, I wish she’d come to me first. So you mean you’d be uncomfortable? Working for a spymaster?

  He does not answer. She shakes her head bitterly.

  MARY (CONT’D): How disappointing of you. And I always thought you were fond of me.

  Carson opens his mouth to reply, but Carlisle enters.

  CARLISLE: Ah, there you are. What about a quick walk before dinner?

  MARY: We ought to get changed first. We’re terribly late as it is.

  CARSON: Will that be all, m’lady?

  MARY: Yes, Carson. Thank you. I think that will be all… Carson has decided not to come with us to Haxby.

  CARLISLE: Oh. I’m sorry. Is there anything I can say to change your mind?

  CARSON: I’m afraid not, sir.

  With a crisp nod, he goes, leaving her in a thwarted fury, but he overhears:

  CARLISLE: What a shame.

  MARY: Not really. Butlers will be two a penny now they’re all back from the war.*

  * Although Mary is shocked about Carlisle’s offering Anna money, she’s not yet prepared to change her plans, which is classic Mary, really. She needs to weigh up where she stands in it all before she makes a decision. It is the thinking that lost her Matthew in the first place. Most of all, here, she’s angry with Carson, who has, to her, blown Carlisle’s lapse all out of proportion. When she says, ‘Butlers will be two a penny, now they’re all back from the war,’ she is trying to hurt his feelings, and this is because she thought she could always do what she wanted with Carson, but now he’s let her down. The audience is obviously on Carson’s side. Or they should be.

  17 INT. SERVERY. DOWNTON. DAY.

  A door opens and Robert comes in. Jane is working there.

  ROBERT: I gather Carson was looking for me.

  JANE: Shall I go and find him, m’lord?

  ROBERT: It’s all right. Tell him I’ll be in the dressing room.

  He looks around. Jane catches his glance.

  ROBERT (CONT’D): Has he done the red wine yet?

  JANE: It’s over here, m’lord.

  Two full decanters stand, without their stoppers. There are two empty bottles. Robert picks one up, sniffs it and nods.

  ROBERT: Ah, I’m pleased. It’s a new one on me. I had some at a dinner in London and ordered it… Carson thought we might try it tonight.

  JANE: It’s important to try new things…

  ROBERT: Well, I’d better go up.

  But they continue to stare at each other.

  JANE: You made me sad yesterday. Wondering what the war was for.

  ROBERT: Oh, don’t listen to me. I’m a foolish man who’s lost his way, and I don’t quite know how to find it again.

  Suddenly, he takes her in his arms and kisses her, then steps back, amazed.

  ROBERT (CONT’D): I’m terribly sorry. I can’t think what came over me.

  She says nothing, but the incident has clearly stunned her.

  ROBERT (CONT’D): Please try to forgive me.

  He hurries away, but is still within earshot when she does speak, gently.

  JANE: I do forgive you…*

  * Robert’s kissing Jane is not a big surprise to the audience, even if it is quite a surprise to the characters. But this stuff did go on, for both sexes, though some people are reluctant to believe it. I remember a distinguished peer saying that he had really enjoyed Gosford Park, but one thing he didn’t believe was that Lady Sylvia would ever have had a relationship with a servant. A gentleman might sleep with a governess or a maid, but a lady would never do the equivalent. I was rather touched by this, because, of course, lots of aristocratic women had entanglements with servants over the centuries, including Queen Elizabeth I’s cousin, who went off with her groom. In fact, the handsome footman became quite an iconic type in a certain kind of fiction.

  18 INT. KITCHEN PASSAGE. DOWNTON. DAY.

  Carson is walking along when Jane comes downstairs.

  JANE: Oh, Mr Carson. His lordship said you were looking for him.

  CARSON: And?

  JANE: And, well, I was to say that you’d find him in the dressing room.

  CARSON: What’s the matter with you?

  JANE: Nothing.

  But she looks somehow pink and disturbed. As she hurries away, Anna appears with a tray. Carson signals to her.

  CARSON: Anna, you should know that, as a consequence of what you told me, I have decided not to go from here —

  ANNA: Because of what I said?

  CARSON: But I would rather you kept the reason to yourself.

  ANNA: Of course, Mr Carson.

  END OF ACT TWO

  ACT THREE

  19 INT. SERVANTS’ HALL. DOWNTON. DAY.

  Anna comes into the servants’ hall, where Bates is working on a waistcoat with some chalk. He looks up as she sits down and starts to set out the kit to clean jewellery.

  ANNA: What are you doing?

  BATES: I’m not sure. I thought this was oil, but the chalk’s not moving it.

  ANNA: It might be fruit. You could try milk if you can wash it after.*

  He nods. But he seems preoccupied as she glances at him.

  ANNA (CONT’D): Are you all right?

  BATES: Now you ask, there is —

  O’Brien comes in. She notices he has clammed up.

  O’BRIEN: I’m sorry. Have I interrupted something?

  ANNA: No, no.

  She turns to Bates, who mouths ‘Later’.

  * I’m sorry that exchange went, because I always like to remind people of the old solutions, but clearly it was less important than preserving the narrative. Before Dabitoff and its modern descendants, there were various ways you got marks out. Here, these suggestions were taken from a book of household hints, published some time in the 1880s.

  20 INT. DRESSING ROOM. DOWNTON. DAY.

  Robert, in black tie, is with Carson. Isis is on the floor.*

  CARSON: I wrestled with it, m’lord. I don’t mind admitting. And I wanted to be there to help Lady Mary, and —

/>   ROBERT: And protect her from Sir Richard.

  CARSON: Well, I wouldn’t quite put it like that, but yes, I suppose. Only…

  ROBERT: Only you felt you couldn’t work for a man who would offer a bribe?

  CARSON: That is correct, m’lord. He was asking Anna to spy on her mistress.

  ROBERT: Are you quite sure you won’t regret it? I know how fond you are of Lady Mary.

  CARSON: But I couldn’t work for a man that I don’t respect. And I certainly couldn’t have left Downton for him.

  ROBERT: I shall take that as a compliment. For myself and for my house.

  * I have to keep mentioning Isis in the stage directions, otherwise there is a tendency for her to get left out, because she slows up the filming. Emma gets really cross with me if the dog’s not in quite a bit of the episode, so I have these two forces pulling me in opposite directions.

  21 INT. MARY’S BEDROOM. DOWNTON. NIGHT.

  Mary is with Anna, who is finishing dressing her.

  MARY: I still don’t see why you didn’t tell me first.

  ANNA: I’m sorry, m’lady, but I didn’t want to add to your troubles.

  MARY: Well, you have done, whether you wanted to or not.

  This is harsh.

  22 INT. LIBRARY. DOWNTON. NIGHT.

  Matthew, in his chair, and Lavinia are dressed for dinner.

  MATTHEW: Nobody’s down yet.

  LAVINIA: They won’t be long.

  She looks across at a table with a tray loaded with plates.

  LAVINIA (CONT’D): Oh, look. They’ve cleared the tea but forgotten to take that tray. They must have been distracted.

  MATTHEW: Ring the bell.

  LAVINIA: I’ll do it. They’ll be busy getting dinner ready.

  She stands and picks up the tray.

  MATTHEW: It’s too heavy for you.

  LAVINIA: No, it’s not. I’ll just take it to the dining room. Someone will be in there.

  But she looks round at him as she says this and now she trips on the rug and starts to fall towards the burning fire.

  MATTHEW: Look out!

  She drops the tray with a crash and continues to fall, but she catches at the mantelshelf and manages to save herself.

  LAVINIA: Heavens, that was a near thing.

  She has brought her eyes up to Matthew. She stops.