Downton Abbey

by Julian Fellowes

  MR BRYANT: It is kind, but we ought to make it clear we can’t stay long. I wasn’t sure we had time to come at all.

  CORA: Luncheon is quite ready.

  MR BRYANT: We must eat and run, I’m afraid. We have to be at Maryport by six.

  They walk inside, into the front hall, followed by the two servants.

  ROBERT: We’re all so terribly sorry about the reason you’re here.

  MRS BRYANT: If we could see Charles’s room…

  MRS HUGHES: Shall I take Mrs Bryant up?

  CORA: No, I’ll do it.

  ROBERT: We’ll all do it. My cousin, Mrs Crawley, who looked after Major Bryant, and my daughters, who nursed him, will join us for luncheon.

  MRS BRYANT: How thoughtful.

  MR BRYANT: But we can’t be long. I’ve told our chauffeur he’s to stay in the car.

  MRS HUGHES: Will I take him something to eat?

  MR BRYANT: Leave him be. He’s quite happy.

  He is a discourteous man, which the others have absorbed.

  ROBERT: Now, please come and see where Major Bryant lived while he was with us…*

  * Kevin R. McNally, who plays Mr Bryant, is the husband of Phyllis Logan, our Mrs Hughes. So we had this husband and wife team in various scenes, although, of course, playing on opposite sides, which was quite fun. I’m not entirely hostile to Mr Bryant, who is self-made, successful and rich. I think it would be wrong to read any hostility from me into it. Clearly, Mrs Bryant is a much nicer person, both more sympathetic and less judgemental, but Bryant has come a long way in the world; he put a lot of effort and, I think, love, into his son, and it’s all come to a tragic nothing. So, I believe one has to take a slightly more open view of him.

  In this scene, I am guilty of being rather snobbish in making Mr Bryant thoughtless about his own chauffeur, and of course I am comparing him to the terribly considerate Cora and Robert. In real life, I am fully aware that whether employers are thoughtful or not has absolutely nothing to do with their social origins and everything to do with their personality, so I apologise for slipping into something of a cliché.

  32 EXT. KITCHEN COURTYARD. DOWNTON. DAY.

  Ethel is sitting in the game larder, holding her boy. She has the rug round them both. Mrs Hughes approaches.

  MRS HUGHES: I’m afraid it’s not going to work.

  ETHEL: Why?

  MRS HUGHES: They’re in the dining room now, and they’re getting straight into the car when they’ve finished. I tried to speak to her on her own, but there was never the right moment.

  She strokes the cheek of the infant.

  MRS HUGHES (CONT’D): Your granddaddy is a bit of a bully.

  ETHEL: But I must see them. I’ve come all this way.

  MRS HUGHES: Of course it’s a disappointment —

  ETHEL: You said yourself there wouldn’t be another chance.

  MRS HUGHES: We can’t know that. Maybe you should write to them, after all. You’ve nothing to lose.

  ETHEL: No. No, they have to see him. They must see Charlie.

  MRS HUGHES: Well, maybe they will, sometime in the future. I hope so. You’d better go now.

  33 INT. KITCHEN. DOWNTON. DAY.

  Daisy is with Mrs Patmore.

  DAISY: Can I ask you something?

  MRS PATMORE: Will it work if I say no?

  DAISY: This wedding cake. Can I make it?

  MRS PATMORE: You wouldn’t know how to start.

  DAISY: But you could tell me. And if I make it early, then you could make another if it’s no good.

  MRS PATMORE: Hmm… If I say yes, will you do as you’re told?

  They are interrupted by the arrival of Mrs Hughes.

  MRS HUGHES: Daisy, there’s a wretched chauffeur at the front who’s not allowed to get out of the car, so can you make him a sandwich and take him up a bottle of pop?

  DAISY: We’ve some ham and — what was that?

  They turn just as Ethel runs through towards the stairs.

  MRS HUGHES: Oh, my God.

  She races after her. Mrs Patmore is amazed.

  DAISY: Who was that?

  MRS PATMORE: Wasn’t that Ethel? Did you see what she was carrying?

  DAISY: No.

  MRS PATMORE: Then just let’s leave it like that.

  34 INT. DINING ROOM. DOWNTON. DAY.

  The Crawleys and the Bryants are having lunch.

  MRS BRYANT: I’m afraid Downton will be a place of pilgrimage for a while.

  CORA: We’re glad to be, if we can help to bring some peace of mind.

  MR BRYANT: There’s no point in wallowing in it. What good does it do?*

  Before anyone can comment, there is a scuffle in the servery and Ethel runs in, followed by Anna. Carson looks aghast.

  ETHEL (V.O): Leave me alone!

  MRS HUGHES (V.O.): Ethel!

  ANNA: I tried to stop her —

  ROBERT: What on earth?

  Cora has jumped to her feet, as Mrs Hughes hurries in.

  CORA: Ethel! I know what this is. Mrs Hughes, I don’t think it’s quite the right —

  ETHEL: I’m stopping. Until I’ve had my say… This is Charlie. Your grandson. He’s almost a year old.

  Mrs Bryant starts, but Bryant stands, speaking sharply.

  MR BRYANT: What proof have you?

  This is so unexpected that it silences everyone.

  ETHEL: What?

  MR BRYANT: I say what proof have you? If my son was the father of this boy, where is your proof? Have you any letters? Any signed statement?

  ETHEL: Why would there be letters? We were in the same house.

  MRS HUGHES: I think she is telling the truth.

  MR BRYANT: I’m not interested in ‘think’. I want proof that my son acknowledged paternity of this boy. If what you say is true, then he would have known of the boy’s existence for months before he… before he was killed.

  ETHEL: Yes. He knew.

  MR BRYANT: So? What did he do about it?

  ETHEL: Nothing. He did nothing.

  MR BRYANT: Thank you. That’s the proof I was looking for. If Charles was the father, he would never have shirked his responsibilities. Never.

  ETHEL: Well, he did.

  MR BRYANT: I won’t listen to any more slander. Now, will you please go, and take that boy with you, whoever he is. You are upsetting Mrs Bryant.

  MRS BRYANT: Well, I would like —

  MR BRYANT: I say you are upsetting Mrs Bryant. Lord Grantham, are you going to stand by while this woman holds us to ransom?

  ROBERT: This isn’t doing much good.

  MRS HUGHES: Ethel, you’d better come with me. Come on.

  She ushers the young woman out. Mr Bryant looks round.

  MR BRYANT: She thinks we’re a soft touch. They hear of a dead officer with some money behind them, and suddenly there’s a baby on every corner.

  ISOBEL: But if she’s telling the truth —

  MR BRYANT: If Charles had fathered that boy, he would have told us. No, I’d say she’s done her homework and discovered he was an only child. She thinks we’d be ripe for the plucking.

  MRS BRYANT: You knew her. Was she one of the nurses when he was here?

  CORA: She was a housemaid.

  CARLISLE: Were you aware?

  MARY: No.

  Isobel is next to Mrs Bryant. She speaks quite gently.

  ISOBEL: No one told me Major Bryant was your only son.

  MRS BRYANT: That’s right. Just Charles. We wanted more, but it didn’t happen.

  ISOBEL: Matthew is my only son, and he nearly died. I think I know a little of what you’re going through.

  Mrs Bryant glances at Matthew. Her voice is wistful.

  MRS BRYANT: He seems such a nice young man —

  Mr Bryant is uneasy at his wife’s intimacy with Isobel.

  MR BRYANT: Well, I think that’s cast rather a shadow over the proceedings, so I don’t see any point in prolonging it. Daphne, come on, we’re leaving.

  Mrs Bryant looks at Isobel
with a sad smile.

  MRS BRYANT: He’s afraid of his own grief. That’s why he behaves as he does. He’s terrified of his own grief.*

  * I remember talking to an old lady once, whose childhood home, like Downton, had been used for convalescent officers during the first war, and she recalled that, after the fighting was over, the families of inmates who had died would come back in pilgrimage. Her parents had found it very upsetting but totally understandable, because it would have been during a period of convalescence that their families visited, and often it was the last time these men and women saw their sons alive. For the owners of the houses, it was an extra post-war service that was expected of them.

  * My mother, when I was young, always used to say that it was better to be gullible than suspicious, and there is something about suspicious people who always assume they’re being tricked or gulled in some way that is unattractive. Mr Bryant is just such a person, and here we have his suspicious instinct kicking in. I don’t know what Kevin McNally decided for this scene when he was playing the part. In my own head, Bryant doesn’t engage with the boy yet; he doesn’t really think he is his grandson. All he can see is a woman who wants him to write a cheque, and it takes time for him to look beyond that, whereas his wife, of course, sees her grandchild from the moment Ethel comes into the dining room.

  We have some fun here with Bryant’s indignant, parental pride. As it happens, we know that Major Bryant was a thoughtless and shallow flirt, but I’m always amused by parents over-estimating the qualities of their children, which lots of people are guilty of. I like the moment, too, when Bryant accuses Ethel of ‘upsetting Mrs Bryant’. He, of course, is perfectly happy to upset Mrs Bryant as much as he likes, but he needs an accusation to hide behind. And all through this exchange, Mrs Bryant wants to know the truth. Isobel understands the situation better than the rest. ‘No one told me Major Bryant was your only son. Matthew is my only son, and he nearly died.’ Of course, when I wrote that line, I didn’t know what was coming. Oh, God.

  Bryant storms out, leaving it to his wife to give the true analysis: ‘He’s afraid of his own grief.’ Certainly, this is often true of Englishmen, but I’m sure all over the world there are men who see emotions essentially as weakness, and so when they feel them they’re taken unawares. They are genuinely astonished to find that they are in love, that they are tremendously unhappy, whatever it may be, because they see such things as unmanly. So they put emotion from them for a time, until it becomes unmanageable, and that is what has happened to Bryant here.

  35 INT. SERVANTS’ HALL. DOWNTON. DAY.

  Ethel is weeping. Anna and some of the others are with her. The astonished faces show they have just learned the truth.

  ETHEL: If that’s what he’s like, I don’t want his help! I don’t want it!

  O’BRIEN: I doubt you’ll have the option… You’re a dark horse. How did you keep it a secret all this time?

  ANNA: Maybe when he’s thought about it he’ll feel differently, you never know.

  CARSON: Anna! Will you kindly go upstairs and help in the dining room!

  He stands in the doorway. Anna hurries away.

  CARSON (CONT’D): Ethel! Please take the child and leave. How did you get here?

  ETHEL: I caught the bus and walked up from the village.

  CARSON: Then can you reverse the process as quickly as possible?

  BATES: She’s very badly shaken, Mr Carson. She’s lost everything.

  His appeal is passionate enough to move Carson.

  CARSON: Are you all right for the fare?

  ETHEL: Yes, thank you.

  Her eye lights on an unfamiliar face.

  ETHEL (CONT’D): You’re the new maid, aren’t you? The widow with the son.

  JANE: I am, yes.

  ETHEL: Thought so.

  Before she can elaborate, Mrs Hughes arrives with a basket of food. She sees Carson.

  MRS HUGHES: Here we are. Just to tide her over.

  CARSON: I’ll see you later, Mrs Hughes.*

  * I was sorry when we had to cut the Jane/Ethel exchange, because, for me, humankind is full of ironies and this illustrates one of them. Here we have Jane and Ethel in exactly the same situation – the fathers of their children were killed in the war and these two little boys are much of an age – but one, Jane, has done it all according to society’s rules, the other has not. So a support mechanism comes into play for Jane, while there is no support for Ethel. I suppose I wanted that one moment where they see each other face to face to underline this difference, but anyway it was elbowed to make room for more important information.

  35A EXT. DOWNTON. DAY.

  The Bryants’ car drives off, leaving Robert standing outside the house.

  36 INT. LIBRARY. DOWNTON. DAY.

  The party, minus the Bryants, are served coffee by Carson.

  MARY: He’s their only grandchild. There can never be another.

  CARLISLE: Even if Ethel is telling the truth —

  CORA: I believe she is.

  CARLISLE: Even so, there’s no legal reality to it. The child is her bastard and has no claim on them.

  The word sends a tremor through the room. Carson shudders.†

  ROBERT: Steady on, sir. The ladies have had enough shocks for one day.

  CARLISLE: I just don’t see the point in pretending something can be done, when it can’t.

  MATTHEW: What about you, Mother? Can’t one of your refugee charities help?

  ISOBEL: But she’s not a refugee, and we have more claims on our funding than we can possibly meet.

  MARY: The truth is, Ethel’s made her choice and now she’s stuck with it.

  LAVINIA: That seems a little hard.

  MARY: Does it? Aren’t all of us stuck with the choices we make?

  † It seems right to remind the younger generation particularly about laws and situations that were quite different until fairly recently. At that time, an illegitimate child was entirely the mother’s responsibility, and had no claim on the father whatever. With this story, it was important for the audience to grasp that Ethel might persuade the Bryants to take some responsibility for her child, but she couldn’t command it. She couldn’t go to the police and say, ‘Their son was my boy’s dad and I need an income,’ which you could now. In those days, even if the child was the spitting image of the father, it still didn’t mean anything in terms of the law.

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

  Carson is with Mrs Hughes. The door is closed.

  MRS HUGHES: Yes, I knew she was coming, but that was not how we arranged it.

  CARSON: But why let her come here at all? You must have known you risked embarrassing her ladyship.

  MRS HUGHES: Now, this is where we differ. Her ladyship’s embarrassment and a child’s life do not seem to me to weigh equal in the balance!

  CARSON: Will you apologise to her?

  MRS HUGHES: If you insist, I will apologise for Ethel’s behaviour, yes.

  CARSON: But you won’t mean it.

  MRS HUGHES: Not really, no. But I suppose making apologies you don’t mean is part of a servant’s lot.

  She goes, leaving him unclear as to who won.*

  * I’m sorry that Carson didn’t tell off Mrs Hughes in the final edit, because I felt it was a good illustration of their different views regarding the family. I may find a place for something similar further down the line.

  38 INT. KITCHEN. DOWNTON. DAY.

  Thomas and O’Brien are with Mrs Patmore and Daisy. The table is covered with bags and tins.

  MRS PATMORE: Candied peel? Well, well. I never thought you’d find that.

  THOMAS: I hope you’re pleased, Mrs Patmore.

  DAISY: ’Course she is. Aren’t you? There’s stuff here we haven’t seen since before the war. I can’t wait to get started.

  MRS PATMORE: I won’t ask where you got it from, because I don’t want to know.

  THOMAS: I keep saying. There’s nothing wrong. So what I’d like to know is
—

  O’BRIEN: When will he get paid?

  MRS PATMORE: When I’m satisfied.

  O’BRIEN: And when will that be, oh Mighty One?

  MRS PATMORE: When Daisy’s baked the cake and I’m pleased with it. He understands. He knows this is just the sprat to catch the mackerel.

  She walks off as the dressing gong sounds.

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

  Bates is dressing Matthew, who stands as he puts on his tail coat and then is helped back into the chair.

  MATTHEW: I really ought to walk to the library.

  BATES: No need to rush it, sir. You’re getting better every day.

  There is a knock. Bates opens the door to find Violet.

  VIOLET: Oh, Cousin Matthew? Are you dressed? May I come in?

  MATTHEW: Please.

  He half struggles to his feet but she waves him back down.

  VIOLET: No, no, no. No, stay where you are.

  She looks at Bates, who leaves and closes the door.

  VIOLET (CONT’D): No doubt you will regard this as rather unorthodox. My pushing into a man’s bedroom, uninvited.

  MATTHEW: Well, um —

  VIOLET: It’s just, I don’t want us to be disturbed.

  She has sat down. Now she launches into her subject.

  VIOLET (CONT’D): I’m sure you know how pleased I am that you will recover after all.

  MATTHEW: Thank you.

  VIOLET: Just as I am delighted that you can once more look forward to a — to a happy married life.

  MATTHEW: I’m very lucky.

  VIOLET: Now this may come as a surprise, but I feel I must say it all the same.

  MATTHEW: Please do.

  VIOLET: Mary is still in love with you.

  MATTHEW: What?

  This is a great surprise – at least that Violet is saying it.

  VIOLET: I was watching her the other night, when you spoke of your wedding. She looked like Juliet on awakening in the tomb.

  MATTHEW: Mary and I have always —

  VIOLET: Of course, I suspected long ago that the flame hadn’t quite gone out, but then there was no chance of your recovery and it seemed best to let her try for happiness where she could.

  MATTHEW: I quite agree, and Sir Richard is —

  VIOLET: Oh, now, let’s not muddy the pool by discussing Sir Richard. The point is, you loved her once. Are you sure you can’t love her again?

  MATTHEW: Cousin Violet, please don’t think I mind your speaking to me in this way. I quite admire it. But consider this: Lavinia came back, against my orders, determined to look after me for the rest of my life. Which meant that she would wash me and feed me and do things that only the most dedicated nurse would undertake, and all with no hope of children or any improvement.