Downton Abbey

by Julian Fellowes

  MOLESLEY: And that’s you and Mr Bates.

  ANNA: That’s me and Mr Bates. But thank you.

  She squeezes his arm, then goes, leaving Molesley alone.

  54 EXT. DRAKES’ FARMYARD. NIGHT.

  Drake is unloading some fencing from the trailer.

  DRAKE: I’ve kept you too long. You’d better get back, or they’ll come looking for you.

  EDITH: We’ve done a lot, haven’t we?

  DRAKE: We have. I’ll be forced to invent some tasks, or there’ll be no need for you to come much more.

  EDITH: Then start inventing. Please.

  He has put down the fencing and now he walks over to her.

  DRAKE: I will. Because I’d hate it if you were to stay away.

  EDITH: So would I. I’d absolutely hate it.

  He is in front of her now. They stare at each other for a moment and then, as he moves forward, so does she. They kiss.

  DRAKE: I can’t believe I’ve done that.

  EDITH: I’m awfully glad you did.

  DRAKE: You’ll have me thrown in the Tower.

  EDITH: Only if they give me the key.

  In the shadows, across the yard, Mrs Drake is watching.*

  * I don’t think either of them expect it to go any further than a kiss. In my mind, what they’re doing is just acknowledging the fact that they have been attracted to each other. Edith certainly isn’t going to run away with a married tenant farmer, and nor is he likely to elope with the daughter of the big house. But living in the shadow of Mary and Sybil, Edith is never the one who’s considered beautiful. She is never thought to be marvellous or clever or talented, all of which qualities Drake gives her. That is very powerful for her. His admiration allows Edith to see herself, not as a great beauty or a brilliant wit, but, for the first time, as having real potential. He lets her feel that she really does have something to offer, and that means a lot, because she knows now that if and when she meets the right man, she will possess these qualities for him.

  55 INT. KITCHEN. DOWNTON. NIGHT.

  Robert, splendid in white tie, looks in from the doorway.

  MRS PATMORE: Daisy, how many times must I tell you? Fold it in, don’t slap it! You’re making a cake, not beating a carpet! Oh, I’m sorry, your lordship, I didn’t see you there —

  ROBERT: That’s quite all right, Mrs Patmore. I wonder, is there somewhere we could have a word?

  Mrs Patmore wipes her hands. She is bewildered.

  MRS PATMORE: Er…

  MRS HUGHES: Why not go into my sitting room?

  56 INT. MRS HUGHES’S SITTING ROOM. DOWNTON. NIGHT.

  Robert and the cook are alone. She waits in nervous silence.

  ROBERT: Please sit. I do have some news of your nephew. I telephoned the War Office and they’ve just come back to me. But I’m afraid it’s not good news.

  MRS PATMORE: I knew he was dead all along. I said so to my sister. I said, ‘Kate,’ I said, ‘he’s gone and you’ll have to face —’

  ROBERT: Mrs Patmore, it’s worse than that.

  MRS PATMORE: What can be worse than being dead?

  ROBERT: Private Philpotts was shot for cowardice on the seventeenth of February.

  MRS PATMORE: Oh, my God.

  ROBERT: This explains why the regiment was reluctant to supply information.

  He walks to the door, past the stricken woman.

  ROBERT (CONT’D): Mrs Hughes, can you come in please? Mrs Patmore has had some bad news. Her nephew has been killed.

  Mrs Hughes takes the cook in her arms.

  MRS HUGHES: Oh, he never has.

  MRS PATMORE: And that’s not all —

  ROBERT: It is all, Mrs Patmore. Let us make sure it is all. Your sister needs to know no more than this. We cannot know the truth. We should not judge. And now I’ll leave you.*

  * Being shot for cowardice was actually very rare. We make a big thing of it now, and there is a special memorial in Staffordshire, the National Arboretum, with an area commemorating men who were shot for desertion and cowardice. In a way, it is astonishing how few there are – 306, I think – given that it was four years of the bloodiest war anyone had ever seen, involving millions upon millions of men. Nevertheless, we are a more forgiving generation, and we feel that, in many cases, they were suffering from shock and loss of nerve, so they were ill rather than cowardly. However, by having such a disciplined imperative, by making it almost impossible to give in and run for it, these men were able to fight and win the war. If they had been understanding of every man who deserted his post, would the results have been the same? We like to treat it as if it’s a simple issue, but I don’t think this is right. In fact, I’m sure it’s extremely complicated. And if ever we were fighting a war on that scale, which I hope passionately we never are again, we would probably find it very hard to be sympathetic and yet hold the line. Of course, Robert wants to keep it private, because he knows the shame that was attendant on it.

  57 INT. DRAWING ROOM. DOWNTON. NIGHT.

  The women are sitting after dinner.

  VIOLET: I think it’s a ridiculous idea!

  SYBIL: Why?

  VIOLET: Because this is a house, not a hospital! It’s not equipped!

  MARY: But, Granny, a convalescent home is where people rest and recuperate.

  VIOLET: But if there are relapses, what then? Amputation in the dining room? Resuscitation in the pantry?

  CORA: It would certainly be the most tremendous disturbance. If you knew how chaotic things are as it is…

  ISOBEL: But when there’s so much good can be done —

  VIOLET: I forbid it! To have strange men prodding and prying around the house, to say nothing of pocketing the spoons! It’s out of the question!

  CORA: I hesitate to remind you, but this is my house now, Robert’s and mine. And we will make the decision.

  VIOLET: Oh, I see. So now I’m an outsider who need not be consulted?

  CORA: Since you put it like that, yes.

  58 INT. DINING ROOM. DOWNTON. NIGHT.

  Robert and Matthew are drinking port.

  MATTHEW: I still think it’s an honour.

  ROBERT: Is it? To dress up like some fool in an opéra bouffe? I’m a chocolate soldier, ridiculous even to myself.

  MATTHEW: And have you provided no comfort, when war has claimed the loved ones of the people around you?

  Robert is silent, which allows the point.

  MATTHEW (CONT’D): There. Don’t talk as if your task here has no value.

  ROBERT: What was it like at the hospital today?

  MATTHEW: At the front, the men pray to be spared, of course. But if that’s not to be, they pray for a bullet that kills them cleanly… For too many of them today, that prayer had not been answered.

  59 INT. KITCHEN. DOWNTON. NIGHT.

  Mrs Patmore, Daisy and the maids are cooking the servants’ dinner.

  MRS PATMORE: We’ll eat in about twenty minutes.

  WILLIAM (V.O.): Good. And would you have any to spare for a poor traveller?

  He is in the doorway, in uniform.

  DAISY: William! I don’t believe it!

  WILLIAM: Pinch me. I am your dream come true.

  DAISY: You’re like a real soldier.

  WILLIAM: I am a real soldier, thank you very much. Now, come and give me a kiss.

  MRS PATMORE: Ooh, we’ll have none of that!

  WILLIAM: Won’t you let a Tommy kiss his sweetheart, Mrs Patmore, when he’s off to fight the Hun?

  DAISY: Have you finished your training?

  WILLIAM: Not yet. But it won’t be long now.

  MRS PATMORE: Well, on the eve of departure, we’ll see. But right now, put her down.

  Mrs Patmore has watched all this with tears in her eyes.*

  * We put in this scene, the return of William as a soldier, proud as punch of his uniform, quite deliberately after the scene in the hospital, so the audience would have a clearer idea of what he was getting into. William is an innocent about warfare, as so m
any of them were. But Mrs Patmore, of course, is not deceived. Her nephew has just been shot and she is full of tears.

  60 INT. SERVANTS’ HALL. DOWNTON. NIGHT.

  The table is laid for supper. Lang is in there, reading, and Anna, but no one else, as William walks in. She stands.

  ANNA: William! What a treat to see you, and how smart you look. Welcome.

  WILLIAM: Thanks.

  ANNA: Supper won’t be long. I’m just going up to clear the dining room.

  WILLIAM: Shall I help?

  ANNA: ’Course not. You’re in the Army now.

  With a laugh, she leaves them alone. Lang looks up.

  LANG: So, still full of the joys of warfare?

  WILLIAM: I’m not sorry to be part of it, Mr Lang, and I can’t pretend I am.

  LANG: Oh, yes, you’re part of it. Like a metal cog is part of a factory, and a grain of sand is part of the beach.

  WILLIAM: It’s all right, Mr Lang. I understand. And I’m not saying I’m important or owt like that. But I believe in this war. I believe in what we’re fighting for, and I want to do my bit.

  LANG: Then God help you.

  61 INT. DRAWING ROOM. DOWNTON. NIGHT.

  Matthew and Robert have joined them and Matthew is with Mary. They glance across to an animated Edith talking to Lavinia.

  MATTHEW: Edith seems jolly tonight.

  MARY: She’s found her métier. Farm labouring.

  MATTHEW: Don’t be so tough on her.

  MARY: That’s like asking the fox to spare the chicken.

  MATTHEW: What about you? Last time you told me good news was imminent.

  MARY: Would you be happy, if it were?

  MATTHEW: Of course. I’ve found someone now, and I want you to do the same.

  62 INT. SERVANTS’ HALL/KITCHEN. DOWNTON. NIGHT.

  William is recounting his tales to the table.

  WILLIAM: ‘If you’d taken another minute to make up your mind, sir, we’d all have marched over the cliff!’ And I’ll tell you something else as well —

  As they are laughing, Daisy collects some dishes and brings them back to the kitchen, where Mrs Patmore is tidying.

  MRS PATMORE: William’s got more to say than a parliamentary candidate. What’s the matter?

  DAISY: I know it’s my fault, but I wish I hadn’t let him think that we’re… like sweethearts, because we’re not. Not by my reckoning, anyway.

  MRS PATMORE: Too late for second thoughts now, Missy. You don’t have to marry him when it comes to it, but you can’t let him go to war with a broken heart, or he won’t come back.

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

  Anna is plaiting Mary’s hair for the night.

  MARY: What a time we’ve had. Poor Sir Richard must have thought he’d come to the mad house.

  ANNA: I don’t expect it’ll put him off.

  She catches Mary’s eye for a moment.

  MARY: I’m going to accept him.

  But Anna does not comment. She just goes on plaiting.

  MARY (CONT’D): Do you think I should?

  ANNA: That’s not for me to say. If you love him more than anyone in the world then of course you should.

  MARY: It’s not as simple as that.

  ANNA: Oh? It is for me, but then I’m not your ladyship.

  MARY: Did you love Bates more than anyone else in the world?

  ANNA: I did. I do. I’ll never love again like I love him. Never.

  MARY: Well, there you are, then. One day you’ll meet someone else and you’ll marry. Perhaps it will be second best, but it doesn’t mean you can’t have a life.

  ANNA: I think it does for me.

  And she ties a ribbon into a bow to finish the plait.*

  * Anna’s moral position is higher than Mary’s here. Anna is prepared to be alone for the rest of her life if Bates never comes back. Mary, on the other hand, is not prepared to be on her own forever if Matthew never returns. But, to be honest, I’m on Mary’s side. I think Anna is throwing away her life. So, in one sense, in terms of romantic fiction, we’re supposed to approve of Anna’s abnegation and sacrifice, but in reality I approve of Mary’s getting her act together and being determined to make another life. So, in the Downton way, I hope the audience is divided.

  64 INT. DINING ROOM. DOWNTON. DAY.

  Robert, Mary and Edith are eating breakfast. Carson is there.

  ROBERT: Are you sure you should be doing this, Carson? We’ve managed very well with Mrs Hughes.

  CARSON: Quite sure, m’lord. And breakfast is not a taxing assignment.

  Robert shares this with the girls, as he opens a letter.

  ROBERT: Edith, this is a message for you. Mrs Drake writes that they’ve decided to hire a man, so they won’t be needing you any more.

  Edith’s cheerful mood is wiped away, as if by a magic cloth.

  EDITH: Is that all she says?

  ROBERT: Well, she’s very grateful. Here we are: she says she and Drake send their thanks to you for giving up so much of your valuable time.

  Edith is silent in her misery. Robert smiles at her.

  ROBERT (CONT’D): I expect it’s rather a relief.

  EDITH: Oh, I wouldn’t say that. Not entirely.

  Which is all she will trust herself to reveal.

  ROBERT: Has Lady Sybil gone already?

  CARSON: She had a tray at half past six.

  ROBERT: She would. Carson, have they told you we’re to be turned into a hospital?

  MARY: A convalescent home. I’m afraid we’ve all bullied you into the whole thing. I hope you’re not dreading it too much.

  ROBERT: Not dreading it exactly, but it’s a brave new world we’re headed for, no doubt about that. We must try to meet it with as much grace as we can muster…

  END OF EPISODE TWO

  ACT ONE*

  1 INT. DRAWING ROOM. DOWNTON. DAY.

  July 1917.† Sybil, in a nurse’s uniform, moves beds with Edith. Cora, Branson, Anna and Ethel are with them, as well as Doctor Clarkson, Isobel and some orderlies from the hospital.

  ANNA: Should we give them some more space between the beds?

  EDITH: Well, we could give them —

  ISOBEL: Not much. I’m determined to defend the library as a recreation room.

  CORA: Where are we to sit?

  ISOBEL: We can screen off the small library.

  CORA: Is that all?

  EDITH: I suppose we still —

  ISOBEL: Or we could leave you the boudoir. I wanted to put the intermediaries in there, but we don’t have to.

  CORA: How kind.

  Isobel chooses not to react. Sybil is troubled.

  SYBIL: Why will we only have officers? Surely all wounded men need to convalesce?*

  CLARKSON: The hospital is for officers, and the whole idea is to have a complementary convalescent home.

  SYBIL: Of course. But I don’t know if we can make that an absolute rule.

  ISOBEL: If the world were logical, I would rather agree with you.

  VIOLET (V.O.): Which comes as no surprise.

  Violet is being shown in by Carson. She looks round.

  ISOBEL: You would not, I imagine.

  VIOLET: You imagine right. What these men will need is rest and relaxation. Will that be achieved by mixing ranks and putting everyone on edge?†

  She turns and walks out before Isobel can reply.

  * The family have come to the conclusion that it’s time Downton played its part in the war, with the different members manifesting greater or lesser enthusiasm. Sybil, of course, is very keen, Robert rather less so, and most of the others fall somewhere in between. It’s rather like filming. People think they want you to film in their house, but when it actually starts they can’t believe the disruption. And really what they wanted was for you to give them an enormous cheque so they can mend the roof, but not actually to displace anything. That is the point of this storyline, that when you make these commitments, for the best possible motives, so often you haven’t r
eally negotiated what it will do to your life. In this case, obviously, Violet has a clearer idea of what is going to happen, in the way of general disruption, than her son or any of the rest of them.

  † As for the date, we were driven by the knowledge that we wanted to have a couple of episodes after the war, so that the series would take this group of men and women through the fighting and out the other side. We didn’t want to have Armistice Day at the end of Episode Eight, because we needed a sense of life going on, once the war was over, rather than making it too final.

  * We had to make it clear that the hospital was for officers, and therefore Downton Abbey would be a convalescent home for officers. You must allow for modern sensibilities, and so we have Sybil, who is, I think believably, the voice of modern reason, saying how ridiculous it is that all the men don’t convalesce together; how absurd to maintain the class divide, even when it comes to the war wounded, which I think is a fair enough point. Nevertheless, it is important for us to reflect the values of that time. Even today, there is a belief that too much familiarity makes it hard to take people’s orders seriously. And usually, whether it’s bosses in factories, or officers, or people running a house, if there is too much informality it can be difficult to make the whole operation run smoothly. At any rate, that was certainly the thinking in the War Office then. The officers had to be preserved as a kind of separate human group in order to be taken seriously by their men. I suspect there was probably something in it, whatever we may tell ourselves now.

  † I don’t think Violet would have been unusual in believing that it was impossible to relax with people of a different rank. There was then a feeling – and probably there is now, more than one admits – that people are more relaxed among their own tribe. Isobel, naturally, takes the intellectual, middle-ground position. Part of this story is about the way any change of situation can empower people, and if you want to be in control of it – and personally I don’t think we’re very much in control of anything – you have to be aware of that. But Cora and Robert are not really prepared for how Isobel, inevitably, as a trained nurse, the widow of a doctor and the daughter of another doctor, will carry an authority in the world that is now moving into Downton. So she is bound to assume a leadership role, which is a direct challenge to Cora’s position as the mistress of the household. All of that, obviously, was quite deliberate on our part.