* * *
28 INT. KITCHEN PASSAGE. DAY.
O’Brien comes out of the ironing room, carrying a splendid evening dress. She almost bumps into Anna, who’s surprised.
ANNA: Is her ladyship wearing that now?
O’BRIEN: Oh no. This is for Friday night. I thought I’d give it a press while I had the time.
ANNA: You don’t know what’s happened to Lady Sybil, do you? I’ve got the changes ready for the other two, but there’s no sign of her.
O’BRIEN: Don’t you start. I’ve had Her Majesty on at me all afternoon.
William hears this. He is walking down the passage.
WILLIAM: Mr Carson says he’ll fetch the police if she’s not back soon.
* * *
Which is unsettling. Anna goes. So does O’Brien. William continues on down the passage, almost passing Daisy.
WILLIAM (CONT’D): Hello? What’s the matter?
DAISY: Nothing. I’ve got a lot on my mind, that’s all.
WILLIAM: Because I may not be as bright as Thomas, but I’m a good listener.
DAISY: Oh, why can’t you leave me alone?
She goes, leaving him with a heavy heart.
* * *
29 EXT. VILLAGE SMITHY. EVE.
It is getting dark and the girls are exhausted.
MAN: Sorry, Miss. But Mr Crump’s staying over at the Skelton estate tonight. He’s working there all week.
SYBIL: Is there anyone else?
MAN: Not that I know of.
Sybil thanks him and they trudge on.
30 EXT. A COUNTRY ROAD. DAY.
The two girls are trying to get the horse to cross a ford. Their skirts are in the stream.
SYBIL: Come on Dragon, come on! Dragon, if you don’t move now, I’ll have you boiled for glue!
The horse makes a terrific jerking leap across, dragging the cart and leaving both of them sitting in the muddy water. The horse looks back at them with a smile.
31 INT. CORA’S BEDROOM. NIGHT.
O’Brien is fastening the back of a simple evening frock.
CORA: But what if she’s overturned? What if she’s lying in a ditch somewhere?
O’BRIEN: I’m sure she’ll be back in the shake of a lamb’s tail.
But Cora isn’t sure. She moves to her dressing table, where O’Brien tidies her hair and inserts a diamond ornament.
CORA: The truth is they’re all getting too old for a mother’s control.
O’BRIEN: They’re growing up.
CORA: They’ve grown up. They need their own establishments.
O’BRIEN: I’m sure they’ll all get plenty of offers.
Cora looks at her through the glass. Will they?
32 INT. CORA’S BEDROOM. NIGHT.*
O’Brien is still working on Cora’s hair.
CORA: Nobody warns you about bringing up daughters. You think it’s going to be like Little Women, and instead they’re at each other’s throats from dawn ‘til dusk.†
* * *
O’BRIEN: Not Lady Sybil, surely.
CORA: Oh no. Sybil’s the family peacemaker. But Mary and Edith have been like two rats in a barrel since they were little girls.
She is distracted by her own reflection but this last speech has given O’Brien an idea, and not a kind one.
33 EXT. DOWNTON. NIGHT.
Sybil waits, drained, as Gwen slips away round the side of the house. Then she rings the bell and William appears.
SYBIL: Can you get someone to send for Lynch?
WILLIAM: I’ll take him round to the stables, m’lady. I’m glad to.
Sybil doesn’t argue. She almost falls through the door.
* * *
34 INT. ANNA’S AND GWEN’S BEDROOM. NIGHT.
Anna walks in. Gwen is in bed, exhausted.
ANNA: You look done in. I’ll bring you some food up later when we’ve finished dinner.
* * *
GWEN: I think I’ve got a temperature.
ANNA: I expect you have. Where were you?
* * *
Gwen is rather deflated by this. Her cover is blown.
GWEN: You came up, then?
* * *
ANNA: I had to change for the afternoon. I’ve had Mrs Hughes and all sorts asking how you were. I didn’t know what to say. I wish you’d warned me.
* * *
GWEN: Did you cover for me?
ANNA: What do you think?‡
She adjusts her cap.
ANNA (CONT’D): I don’t suppose this had anything to do with Lady Sybil.
* * *
GWEN: Oh, Anna, it was a nightmare. The horse threw a shoe and we tried to find a blacksmith but we couldn’t …
Anna is laughing at the account and so, at last, is Gwen.
* * *
GWEN (CONT’D): I don’t know how I got in without being seen. I’m sure I’ve left a trail of mud up the stairs.
ANNA: So did you get the job?
GWEN: We’ll have to wait and see.
But of course she thinks she has.
35 INT. LIBRARY. NIGHT.
Edith, changed, is writing letters when O’Brien comes in.
O’BRIEN: Sorry to bother you, m’lady, but your mother wanted you to know that Lady Sybil’s back. She’s changing now, so dinner won’t be late, after all.
EDITH: What happened to her?
O’BRIEN: The horse went lame.
Edith nods her thanks. But the maid does not leave, instead she seems to hover. At last Edith looks over.
EDITH: Is there anything else?
O’BRIEN: There is something that’s been troubling me … You remember that Turkish gentleman? Mr Pamuk? The one who died. All sudden like.
EDITH: Of course I remember.
O’BRIEN: Well … it’s Daisy, m’lady.
This name does not strike any bells.
O’BRIEN (CONT’D): The kitchen maid. Only she’s been talking recently as if she had ideas about Mr Pamuk’s death.
EDITH: What sort of ‘ideas’?
O’BRIEN: Well, I’ve no proof and maybe I’m wrong. But I’ve a sense she knows something but she won’t say what.
Now comes the coup de grâce.
O’BRIEN (CONT’D): Something involving Lady Mary.
At last Edith’s interest is captured. Entirely.
EDITH: How absurd. What could she know?
O’BRIEN: That’s just it. Whatever it is, she won’t say. Not to us, anyway.
EDITH: Have you spoken to Lady Mary about this?
O’BRIEN: I didn’t like to, m’lady. It seemed impertinent somehow. But I thought someone in the family ought to know about it.
O’Brien, of course, is cleverer than any of them. Edith nods.
EDITH: Quite right. Bring the girl to my room tomorrow. After breakfast.
Mary comes in, also dressed for dinner, as O’Brien goes.
MARY: What did she want?
EDITH: Nothing. Just a message from Mama that Sybil’s turned up alive.
MARY: Poor darling. She had to walk for miles. I don’t think I’d have got down, however lame the horse.
EDITH: No. I don’t believe you would.
She goes back to her letter.
END OF ACT TWO
ACT THREE
36 INT. EDITH’S BEDROOM. DAY.
Edith is with Daisy and O’Brien. Daisy shaking with nerves.
DAISY: I couldn’t say, m’lady. I don’t know what Miss O’Brien means. I didn’t see nuffin. Well not much.
The other two women exchange a quick glance.
EDITH: O’Brien, I wonder if you might leave us?
O’Brien goes, annoyed to be shut out of her own plot.
EDITH (CONT’D): Now … it’s Daisy, isn’t it?*
DAISY: Yes, m’lady.
EDITH: I’m sure you see O’Brien acted as she did because she’s concerned.
DAISY: I suppose so, m’lady, but—
EDITH: She seems to think that you are in possession of some knowledge that
is uncomfortable for you.
Daisy is silent. She won’t agree but she can’t lie.
EDITH (CONT’D): Because if that is the case, then I don’t think it fair on you.
Daisy looks up. She’d thought she was in trouble.
* * *
EDITH (CONT’D): Why should you be burdened with Mary’s secret? When there’s nothing in it for you but worry and grief? My dear, my heart goes out to you. It really does.
* * *
These are the kindest words Daisy has heard in a long time. If ever. Her shoulders start to shake and soon she’s weeping. Edith steps in and takes her gently in her arms.
* * *
EDITH (CONT’D): There, there. Come and sit down. You’ve been carrying too heavy a load for too long. Just tell me, and I promise you’ll feel better.
* * *
37 EXT. DOWNTON VILLAGE. DAY.
Violet is getting down from her carriage. Mary is with her. They walk into the village hall.
38 INT. DOWNTON VILLAGE HALL. DAY.
The flower show. The decorations are complete and people are setting out the stalls with cakes and jams as well as flowers. Matthew and Isobel are admiring Bill Molesley’s table. Cora sees Violet and comes over to greet her with a cool kiss on the cheek.
VIOLET: You seem well prepared.
CORA: They’ll add a few flowers in the morning before we open, but I think we’re nearly there.
Isobel has approached them.
ISOBEL: Do look at Mr Molesley’s display. He’s worked so hard.
To Violet, this is loaded. They join Matthew at the stall.
MATTHEW: They’re rather marvellous, aren’t they?
MARY: Lovely. Well done Mr Molesley.
BILL MOLESLEY: Thank you, m’lady.
Violet looks round the room, firmly.
VIOLET: I think everyone is to be congratulated. It’s splendid.
ISOBEL: But do look at these roses. Have you ever seen the like?
It’s a challenge. Violet meets it head on, turning to Cora.
VIOLET: My dear, Mrs Crawley believes I am profiting from an unfair advantage.
CORA: Oh?
VIOLET: She feels, in the past, I have been given the cup more as a matter of routine than merit.
She smiles blandly. Matthew catches Mary’s eye.
MATTHEW: That’s rather ungallant, Mother. I’m sure when we see Cousin Violet’s roses, it will be hard to think they could be bettered.
ISOBEL: Hard. But not impossible.
VIOLET: You are quite wonderful the way you see room for improvement wherever you look. I never knew such reforming zeal.
ISOBEL: I take that as a compliment.
Violet turns away, murmuring audibly to Mary.
VIOLET: I must have said it wrong.
She moves on, leaving Mary and Matthew together.
MARY: Poor Granny. She’s not used to being challenged.
MATTHEW: Nor is Mother. I think we should let them settle it between them.
MARY: So you are interested in flowers?
MATTHEW: I’m interested in the village. In fact I’m on my way to inspect the cottages.
MARY: You know what all work and no play did for Jack.
MATTHEW: But you think I’m a dull boy, anyway. Don’t you?
She wouldn’t answer him, even if she knew the answer.
MATTHEW (CONT’D): I play, too. I’m coming up for dinner tonight. I suspect I’m there to balance the numbers. Is it in aid of anything?
MARY: Not that I know of. Just a couple of dreary neighbours, that’s all.
MATTHEW: Maybe I’ll shine by comparison.
Violet across the room calls out.
VIOLET: Mary! We’re going.
Mary looks at her companion.
MARY: Maybe you will.
39 INT. SERVANTS’ HALL. NIGHT.
Most of the servants are present. Carson looks in.
CARSON: Might I have a word?
They are all silenced by his tone.
CARSON (CONT’D): I want to say something before I ring the gong. I’m afraid it’s not very pleasant.
Naturally, you could now hear a pin drop.
CARSON (CONT’D): His lordship is missing a very valuable snuff box. It appears to have been taken from the case in his room. If one of you knows anything about this, will he or she please come to me. Your words will be heard in the strictest confidence. Thank you.
He goes, leaving the household amazed. Then O’Brien speaks.
O’BRIEN: I am sorry, Mr Bates. What an unpleasant thing to have happened.
ANNA: Why are you picking on him?
THOMAS: Because he’s the only one of us who goes in there. But don’t worry. I’m sure it’ll turn up.
BATES: Thank you for your concern.
There is the sound of the gong and they all walk out to attend to their duties, leaving Bates alone with Anna. He is pale.
BATES (CONT’D): I hate this kind of thing. I hope to God they find it.
* * *
ANNA: Don’t be silly. Nobody thinks it’s you.
BATES: No?
ANNA: Why ever would they?
At this, he looks at her but he does not reply.
* * *
BATES: Better get a move on.
40 INT. MARY’S BEDROOM. NIGHT.
Mary is alone. There is a knock and Cora enters.
MARY: I’m coming. Do you think this brooch works? I can’t decide.
CORA: It’s charming.
She sits carefully on the bed.
MARY: Oh dear. Is it another scolding?
CORA: Of course not. You’re too grown up to scold, these days.
MARY: Heavens. Then it’s really serious.
CORA: I’d like you to look after Sir Anthony Strallan tonight. He’s a nice, decent man. His position may not be quite like Papa’s but it would still make you a force for good in the county—
MARY: Mama, not again! How many times am I to be ordered to marry the man sitting next to me at dinner?*
CORA: As many times as it takes.
Her voice is stronger than before.
MARY: I turned down Matthew Crawley. Is it likely I’d marry Strallan when I wouldn’t marry him?
Her words contain a veiled compliment to Matthew.
CORA: I am glad you’ve come to think more highly of Cousin Matthew.
MARY: That’s not the point.*
CORA: No. The point is, when you refused Matthew, you were the daughter of an earl with an unsullied reputation. Now you are damaged goods.
Her words are a severe shock to Mary.
MARY: Mama—
CORA: Somehow, I don’t know how, there is a rumour in London, that you are not … virtuous.
MARY: What? Does Papa know about this?
CORA: He knows it and he dismisses it. Because, unlike you and me, he doesn’t know that it is true.
Again, the plain but shocking statement subdues Mary.
CORA (CONT’D): Let’s hope it’s unkind gossip. Because if anyone heard about …
MARY: Kemal. My lover. Kemal Pamuk.
Her words are meant as a haughty challenge, but Cora is simply relieved she will not have to speak the name.
CORA: Exactly. If it gets around, and you’re not already married, every door in London will be slammed in your face.
MARY: Mama, the world is changing—
CORA: Not that much, and not fast enough for you!
MARY: I know you mean to help. I know you love me. But I also know what I’m capable of, and forty years of boredom and duty just isn’t possible for me. I’m sorry.
CORA: I do love you and I want to help.
MARY: I’m a lost cause, Mama. Leave me to manage my own affairs. Why not concentrate on Edith? She needs all the help she can get.
CORA: You mustn’t be unkind to Edith. She has fewer advantages than you.
MARY: Fewer? She has none at all.
Edith’s reflection can be seen in the glass of a picture
on the wall. The door is slightly open.
41 INT. UPSTAIRS PASSAGE. NIGHT.
Edith is standing, listening, at Mary’s door.
42 INT. KITCHEN. NIGHT.
Daisy is pouring bread sauce into a sauce boat. She works in silence as Mrs Patmore takes up a thick cloth.
MRS PATMORE: Open the oven.
Daisy opens the heavy door. Mrs Patmore lifts out the big, earthenware roasting dish with three large fowl. She turns and walks into the side of the kitchen table and trips. The dish falls on the floor and shatters. As she screams, a cat starts out from the shadows and pounces on the first bird.
ANNA (V.O.): What’s happened?
She and Gwen appear at the doorway as Daisy tries to drive away the cat from the first bird.
MRS PATMORE: It’s that bloomin’ Daisy! I’ve said she’d be the death of me, and now my word’s come true!
DAISY: I didn’t do nuffin!
ANNA: Here, let me help you.
She wrestles Mrs Patmore into a chair. Gwen kicks the cat.
* * *
GWEN: Get away! Get back to the stables! Who let this thing in here?*
She picks up the bird which has been chewed, with a great mouthful missing from its breast.
* * *
GWEN (CONT’D): What’ll you serve now?
MRS PATMORE: Why, them o’course. I ain’t got nothing else.
Gwen looks at Anna and Daisy.
* * *
ANNA: I s’pose they’ll be all right. Daisy, give us a hand, get that cloth.
Downton Abbey Script Book Season 1 Page 22
