Downton Abbey Script Book Season 1
Page 18
32 EXT. DOWNTON. NIGHT.
Violet comes out with Robert. She is furious.
VIOLET: What I cannot understand in all this is you! You seem positively glad to see Mary disinherited!
ROBERT: You speak as if we had a choice—
VIOLET: Thank you, Branson.
She has brought matters to an end. The chauffeur closes the door and starts the car as Robert retreats to the house.
ROBERT: I’m worn out. Tell Lady Mary and Mr Crawley I’ve gone to bed.
CARSON: Shall I tell them now, m’lord?
Robert thinks for a moment.
ROBERT: No. Wait until they ring.*
END OF ACT TWO
ACT THREE
33 EXT. DOWNTON VILLAGE. NIGHT.
Joe and Mrs Hughes emerge from the pub into the fair.
MRS HUGHES: I ought to start back. This is very late for me.
JOE: Ah, not yet. It’s a long time since I had a girl to show off for, at a fair.
He gives the man a penny and takes up the rings to throw.
JOE (CONT’D): So I take it you never get lonely?
MRS HUGHES: Well, that’s working in a big house. There are times when you yearn for a bit of solitude.
He makes his final throw and wins a scarecrow doll.
JOE: Well, something to remind you of me.
MRS HUGHES: I don’t need help to remember you.
She chuckles pleasantly, as they stroll on.
JOE: But what … what happens when you retire?
MRS HUGHES: I should think I’ll stay here. They’ll look after me.
JOE: Suppose they sell the estate?
MRS HUGHES: Suppose there’s a tidal wave? Suppose we all die of the plague? Suppose there’s a war?*
The other servants watch her laugh, from across the Green, then duck back behind a tent, so she does not see them.
THOMAS: What did I tell you? She’s found her Romeo.
GWEN: It might be her brother.
THOMAS: She hasn’t got a brother or we’d know it by now. Just a sister in Lytham St Anne’s.
DAISY: You know everything, don’t you?
He blesses her with a look. William snorts.
WILLIAM: Everything, my foot. You’re hiding behind him, but he’s not what you think he is.
DAISY: Oh, go home William, if you’re going to be such a spoil sport.
WILLIAM: All right. I will.
He turns and marches away, when Gwen calls out.
GWEN: Come back! She didn’t mean it! William! Wait for me!
She hurries after him, as Thomas smirks at Daisy. On the other side of the fair, Mrs Hughes is still with Joe.
MRS HUGHES: I must go. But it’s been lovely to see you again, Joe. Really.
JOE: And you know what I’m asking?
MRS HUGHES: You haven’t asked anything yet.
JOE: But you know what it is, when I do.
The truth is, she undoubtedly does.
JOE (CONT’D): I’m going to stop here at the pub, ‘til I hear from you. Oh, and take your time. I’d rather wait a week for the right answer than get a wrong one in a hurry. Think about it, carefully.
MRS HUGHES: I will. I promise you that.
34 INT. LIBRARY. DOWNTON. NIGHT.
Mary pulls the bell rope. Matthew is still there.
MARY: To break the entail, we’d need a private bill in Parliament?
This seems very ridiculous to her.
MATTHEW: Even then, it would only be passed if the estate was in danger which it’s not.
MARY: And I mean nothing in all this.
MATTHEW: On the contrary, you mean a great deal. A very great deal.
He looks at her, but the door opens and Carson appears.
CARSON: You rang, m’lady?
MARY: Yes Carson. Mr Crawley was just leaving. After that you can lock up. Do you know where his lordship is?
CARSON: Gone to bed, m’lady. He felt tired after he put Lady Grantham into the car.
MARY: I bet he did. Thank you, Carson.
The butler goes to fetch Matthew’s coat.
MATTHEW: Sorry, I wish I could think of something to say that would help.
MARY: There’s nothing. But you mustn’t let it trouble you.
MATTHEW: It does trouble me. It troubles me very much.
MARY: Then that will be my consolation prize. Goodnight, Cousin Matthew.
She holds out her hand. He takes it and holds it tightly, so wanting to find the right words. But he can’t.
MATTHEW: Goodnight.
His intensity is disconcerting. She pulls her hand back.
35 INT. HALL. DOWNTON. NIGHT.
Carson holds a coat open for Matthew.
MATTHEW: I hope I haven’t kept you up too late. I’m afraid we’ve interfered with your dinner.
CARSON: It’s been rather a chop-and-change evening downstairs.
MATTHEW: Lady Grantham got off all right?
CARSON: ‘All right’ is an optimistic assessment, sir.
MATTHEW: It’s very difficult, Carson. For her, for Lady Mary, for everyone.
CARSON: It is, Mr Crawley. But I appreciate your saying so.
This is the nicest thing Carson has ever said to Matthew.*
* * *
36 INT. ANNA’S AND GWEN’S BEDROOM. DOWNTON. NIGHT.
Anna has just climbed into bed, when Gwen arrives, with bread and cheese on a plate, and a glass of water.
ANNA: Are you back? How was it?
GWEN: Fine. I came back with William, after Daisy broke his heart … I brought these up for you, but I see you’re taken care of.
ANNA: I am. Very well taken care of.
And she snuggles down, lifting the lids off the dishes.
* * *
37 INT. SERVANTS’ HALL/SERVANTS’ STAIRCASE. DOWNTON. NIGHT.
Mrs Hughes returns from the fair and walks along the passage. O’Brien can be seen in the servants’ hall sewing.
O’BRIEN: Well, that’s Her Greatness done and dusted for the night.
She bites the thread savagely. There is a sound in the passage. It’s Mrs Hughes. Bates enters. William’s slumped in a corner.
BATES: William, did you have a good time?
WILLIAM: I’m off to bed.
He stands and walks off. Bates follows him to the stairs.
BATES: Wait. What happened?
WILLIAM: Nothing. It doesn’t matter.
* * *
Bates would say more but Gwen comes downstairs at that moment, and walks with Bates back to the servants’ hall.
* * *
BATES: How was your evening, Mrs Hughes?
MRS HUGHES: Very enjoyable, thank you. The others are just behind me, so you can lock up in a minute … Well, I’ll say goodnight.
She is about to go as Thomas, Daisy, the maids and the hall boys come in, just in time to see her. She waves goodnight to them as she walks away. Thomas turns to O’Brien.
THOMAS: I was right when I said she was looking sparkly-eyed.
CARSON: I beg your pardon, Thomas.
He has crept up on them. Now he waits, to let his disapproval register, then leaves.*
THOMAS: He can disapprove all he likes. Mrs Hughes has got a fancy man.
He laughs with a sneer, and Daisy laughs with him.
* * *
BATES: Don’t be nasty, Daisy. It doesn’t suit you. And Mrs Hughes is entitled to her privacy.
O’BRIEN: You would say that, wouldn’t you?
* * *
THOMAS: I reckon there’s a job vacancy coming up. Miss O’Brien, do you fancy a promotion?
O’BRIEN: Very droll. If she’s got a boyfriend, I’m a giraffe.
* * *
38 INT. CORA’S BEDROOM. DOWNTON. NIGHT.
Cora’s in bed. Robert is in his dressing gown.
CORA: How was she when she left?
ROBERT: You know my mother. She’s not keen on conceding defeat.
CORA: And Mary?
ROBERT: Well, sh
e listened to Matthew, but whether she’s accepted it remains to be seen.
Cora nods. Robert sits on the bed, taking his wife’s hand.
ROBERT (CONT’D): The question is, have you accepted it?
CORA: I think so.
ROBERT: But I don’t want you to feel angry towards Matthew.
CORA: I won’t. I like Matthew.
ROBERT: Don’t think he’s cheated Mary. He hasn’t.
CORA: To be honest, Robert, Mary isn’t the person you—
She stops. She very nearly gave away Mary’s secret.
ROBERT: Mary isn’t the person I what?
CORA: Never mind.
He takes off his gown and climbs into bed.
ROBERT: It’s a shame she won’t take Matthew. I think even Carson could put up with ‘Mr Crawley’ if Mary was his wife.
CORA: We don’t know he’d take her, now.
This really is an odd thing for Robert to hear.
ROBERT: Why on earth do you say that?
CORA: I’m not convinced they’re suited.
ROBERT: Have it your own way. We’re suited. So let’s give thanks for that.
He kisses her and settles down. But Cora lies awake.
* * *
39 INT. ATTICS. DOWNTON. NIGHT.
Bates, in his vest, carrying a towel, knocks at a door.
* * *
BATES: William?
* * *
He opens the door but a sad voice speaks out of the dark.
WILLIAM (V.O.): Leave me alone, Mr Bates. I know you mean well, but let me be.
Is he crying? Bates closes the door gently.
THOMAS: What chance did he have? Up against a champion?
He is smirking by his door. Suddenly Bates seizes him by his waistcoat and bangs him hard against the wall, leaning in.
BATES: Now, listen, you filthy little rat. If you don’t lay off, I’ll punch your shining teeth through the back of your head!
But Thomas just grins into the face so close to his own.
THOMAS: Is this supposed to frighten me, Mr Bates? Because, if it is, it isn’t working. I’m sorry, but it’s just not working.
His smile is hard, and Bates is one step from murder.
40 INT. MRS HUGHES’S SITTING ROOM
Mrs Hughes is holding the scarecrow doll won for her at the fair by Joe Burns. She smiles at the memory.
41 INT. KITCHEN. DOWNTON. MORNING.
Breakfast time. The place is a whirl of activity.
MRS PATMORE: Daisy! Chafing dishes! Now!
DAISY: They’re right in front of you, Mrs Patmore.
MRS PATMORE: Are you trying to trick me?
But then she looks hard at the table. The dishes are there. Mrs Hughes has been watching all this.
MRS HUGHES: Anna’s still not well enough. O’Brien, you’ll have to dress the girls again, this morning.
O’Brien, laying Cora’s breakfast tray, looks outraged. She whispers to Thomas.
O’BRIEN: When you think of what we know about Lady Mary, and here I am, waiting on her hand and foot.
THOMAS: Will we do anything with that?
* * *
O’BRIEN: Maybe, but not yet. I’m not sure we’ve got to the bottom of it, yet.
* * *
Thomas is distracted by William, who is about to go out with a serving dish.
THOMAS: What do you look like? Daisy, what do you think he looks like?
Daisy hesitates. This makes her uncomfortable.
* * *
THOMAS: A tramp. A vagrant. That’s what. Do your buttons up.
* * *
For a moment, William doesn’t move.
DAISY: Well, go on, then.
Silently, William puts down the dish, refastens his buttons, picks up his dish again and leaves. Daisy watches him uneasily. Then Thomas catches her eye and winks, as he goes out and she smiles. Gwen and Mrs Hughes have witnessed all this.
42 INT. SYBIL’S BEDROOM. DOWNTON. DAY.
Sybil’s hair is being arranged by O’Brien.
* * *
SYBIL: I’ll have it down, today. With just a bow to hold it back.
O’BRIEN: Of course, m’lady, if you want to look like a milkmaid.
SYBIL: That’s exactly what I want, thank you, O’Brien. How’s Anna?
O’BRIEN: Gwen said she was a bit better.
SYBIL: Good. Ouch.
She has been punished. There is a knock and Gwen comes in.
* * *
O’BRIEN: What do you want?
GWEN: I’ve got a message for Lady Sybil. From her ladyship.
SYBIL: Thank you, O’Brien. I’ll manage now.
Without a word, O’Brien puts down the brush and leaves.
SYBIL: Odious woman. What does Mama want?
GWEN: I just said that to get rid of her. This came today.
She brings a letter from her pocket and hands it over.
SYBIL: I knew they’d want to see you.
GWEN: S’your reference wot’s done it.
SYBIL: ‘That’s’ done it.
They look at each other, brimming with excitement. Then …
GWEN: How’m I going to get there? They won’t let me take a day off.
SYBIL: You’re going to be ill. They can’t stop you being ill.
GWEN: What?
SYBIL: No one has seen Anna for a whole day. They won’t notice if you vanish for a couple of hours.
* * *
GWEN: I s’pose.
SYBIL: I’ll get Lynch to hitch up the governess cart and drive you in. It’ll work. I promise.
* * *
43 EXT. THE GARDENS AT DOWNTON ABBEY*
Robert is walking with Mary.
MARY: The only one who never sticks up for me in all this is you. Why is that?
ROBERT: You are my darling daughter and I love you, hard as it is for an Englishman to say the words.
MARY: Well, then …
ROBERT: If I had made my own fortune and bought Downton for myself, it should be yours without question, but I did not. My fortune is the work of others, who laboured to build a great dynasty. Do I have the right to destroy their work? Or impoverish that dynasty? I am a custodian, my dear, not an owner. I must strive to be worthy of the task I have been set. If I could take Mama’s money out of the estate, Downton would have to be sold to pay for it. Is that what you want? To see Matthew a landless peer with a title, but no means to pay for it?
MARY: So I’m just to find a husband and get out of the way?
ROBERT: You could stay here if you married Matthew.
MARY: You know my character, Father. I’d never marry any man that I was told to. I’m stubborn. I wish I wasn’t, but I am.
* * *
44 EXT. ISOBEL’S GARDEN. DOWNTON VILLAGE. DAY.
Isobel is pruning roses. Molesley arrives with a tea tray. His hands are still raw and it has spread up his arms.
ISOBEL: It’s no better, is it?
MOLESLEY: Not really, ma’am, no.
ISOBEL: What about the solution I gave you?
MOLESLEY: Doesn’t make any difference. If anything, it’s worse.
ISOBEL: And you won’t wear gloves?
MOLESLEY: Don’t ask me to, ma’am. Please. I’ve been a footman, but I’m not a footman now.
ISOBEL: Are you busy at the moment?
MOLESLEY: I thought I’d walk up to give my father a hand, ma’am. And you did say it might take a week.
ISOBEL: Very well. But if it’s no better by next Wednesday we’ll ask the doctor. No point in keeping a dog and not letting it bark.
45 INT. LIBRARY. DOWNTON. DAY.
Cora is with Robert.
CORA: Are you doing anything?
ROBERT: Why?
CORA: I was taking Sybil to choose a new frock but I think I’ve caught Anna’s cold.
ROBERT: I’ve arranged to show Matthew the cottages we’re doing up. It is his idea, and he’s getting away early on purpose. I’m no judge of hemlines, anyway.
&nbs
p; CORA: I’d better cancel it.
ROBERT: Poor Sybil. Surely she can sort out her own frock at this stage. Branson can take her.
CORA: Hmm. She has such wild ideas.
ROBERT: Sounds intriguing.
CORA: Well, if you don’t like what she chooses, don’t blame me.
46 INT. SERVANTS’ HALL. DOWNTON. DAY.
Bates, O’Brien, Thomas, William and Daisy are in there, when Mrs Hughes appears with Anna. Bates jumps up.
BATES: Does this mean you’re better?
O’BRIEN: Don’t tell me. Let me guess. She doesn’t feel up to starting work.
ANNA: I do. I want to.
MRS HUGHES: Not yet. Try a little mending. But that’s enough for now.
She puts the sewing basket down on the table and goes.
ANNA: I wish she’d let me do more.
O’BRIEN: Of course you do.
ANNA: I hate being ill. My mother used to look down on ill people. She used to say ‘Oh, they’re always ill,’ as if it were their fault.*
THOMAS: My mother worshipped disease. If we ever wanted to get anything out of her, we had to start by pretending to be ill.
Daisy peals with laughter, infuriating William.
WILLIAM: You talk such rubbish.
DAISY: Don’t say that. Tell us more.
Mrs Patmore has appeared, spoon in hand.
MRS PATMORE: Daisy, perhaps you can delay hearing Thomas’s life story, and come and help with the dinner.
DAISY: Yes, Mrs Patmore.
She stands and goes, with a smile for Thomas.
BATES: Welcome back. It wasn’t the same, without you.
He talks softly to Anna, but Thomas and O’Brien have heard.