Downton Abbey

by Julian Fellowes

  23 INT. LEEDS GENERAL INFIRMARY. DAY.

  William lies in a bed in this full ward. An elderly man sits by him. A little way away, Edith and Violet talk to a doctor.

  VIOLET: And has Lord Flintshire’s order been acted on?

  DOCTOR: It has. There’s an ambulance waiting, although no one quite knows how you managed it.

  VIOLET: What exactly is the matter with him?

  DOCTOR: He’s suffering with hypoxic decompensation due to his pulmonary barotrauma. There’ll be multi-organ failure as his creatinine rises.

  VIOLET: Was that in English?

  DOCTOR: His body’s sustained too much damage. He cannot recover.†

  VIOLET: But he looks so normal. Pale, of course, and weak, but not wounded.

  DOCTOR: Appearances can be cruelly deceptive. The force of the blast has fatally injured his lungs.

  EDITH: But if he’s lived this long —

  VIOLET: Would it make any difference if he stayed here or are you just making him as comfortable as can be?

  DOCTOR: That’s it. There’s nothing more we can do for him.

  VIOLET: So you agree with our plan?

  DOCTOR: I don’t know about you, but I’d rather die in a familiar place, surrounded by familiar faces.

  Violet gives a sign to silence him as the old man arrives.

  VIOLET: There you are, Mr Mason. Seems we have everything settled, and we’ll be away before too long.

  MASON: He’ll be forced to do better, if we can just get him back to where he knows. I feel sure of it.

  DOCTOR: I shouldn’t —

  VIOLET: I shouldn’t worry too much. We’ll know much more when he’s rested.

  MASON: I’m very grateful, m’lady. To both of you.

  EDITH: Never mind that. Let’s get him ready.

  She takes him off, leaving Violet alone with the doctor.

  VIOLET: See, sometimes, we must let the blow fall by degrees. Give him time to find the strength to face it.*

  † The majority vote had it that this diagnosis was too arcane to play out in a drama, but I was sad to see it go, because it gave the real reason why William is dying. As it is, all you get is that he’s sustained ‘too much damage’, which doesn’t seem enough information to me. My doctor friend, Alasdair Emslie, came up with hypoxic decompensation due to pulmonary barotraumas, which, had it been articulated, would maybe have made the public aware that this is a real, if rare, condition. Actually, as I write that, I’m not sure how many people would have taken it in. I suppose I was just anxious that William should not die like Little Nell in The Old Curiosity Shop, without anything very specific being given as the cause.

  * Although Violet is a law unto herself, in many ways she is also a good psychoanalyst. Here, the doctor wants to tell Mr Mason that it’s over, that his beloved son is dying. But Violet knows the old man has got to get there in his own time. She wants to start him off with the notion that William is very ill, and only gradually take him to the point where he can accept that the boy is going to die, which I think is a correct analysis of what’s required in this situation.

  24 INT. HOSPITAL. DOWNTON VILLAGE. DAY.

  Mary, in an apron, is tidying a bed. Sybil is working with her. There is a noise and Clarkson appears.

  CLARKSON: Right, they’re here.

  SYBIL: May I stay to settle him in?

  CLARKSON: Very well. I’ll let them know.

  MARY: I want to help, too.

  CLARKSON: Lady Mary, I appreciate your good intentions, but I’m concerned that Captain Crawley’s condition may be very distressing for you. Might I suggest that you hang back until the nurses have tidied him up a little?

  MARY: I’m not much good at hanging back, I’m afraid. I won’t get in your way, I promise, but I will stay. You have volunteers, don’t you? Well, that’s what I am. A volunteer.

  He might have argued further, but the door opens.

  CLARKSON: All right. Everyone to their posts.

  SYBIL: [To Mary] You stand there.

  The stretcher bearers carry in four men. Sybil and the other nurses obviously know the drill. We hear ‘Yes, this gentleman, second in.’ ‘Yes, doctor.’ ‘Number two. Nurse Crawley, here.’ ‘Yes, just here. Gently, gently, gently.’ As a stretcher is carried past, Sybil comes over and bends down. The stretcher bearer bends to lift him. Mary steps in. Together the three of them get Matthew onto a bed.

  SYBIL: [To Mary] Take him under his feet. Cousin Matthew? Can you hear me?

  But Matthew is unconscious, his face covered in tiny cuts.

  STRETCHER BEARER: He is breathing, but he’s not been conscious since we’ve had him. They filled him full of morphine.

  SYBIL: Thank you.

  The man leaves as Mary sees a luggage label tied to Matthew’s wrist. She reads it.

  SYBIL (CONT’D): What does it say?

  MARY: ‘Probable spinal damage.’ What does that mean?

  SYBIL: It could mean anything. We’ll know more in the morning.

  But in fact, together, they absorb the enormity of the words.

  SYBIL (CONT’D): What’s this doing here?

  Pinned on Matthew’s coat is a bag containing Mary’s rabbit.

  MARY: I gave it to him, for luck. He was probably carrying it when he fell.

  SYBIL: If only it had worked.

  MARY: He’s alive, isn’t he?

  SYBIL: I should wash him. Molesley brought some pyjamas. This bit can be grim. Sometimes we have to cut off the clothes they’ve travelled in. And there’s bound to be a lot of blood.

  MARY: How hot should the water be?

  SYBIL: Warm more than hot. And bring some towels.

  Mary nods and goes to fetch them.*

  * One of the important elements here is that Mary takes orders from Sybil, because I believe that, when things get really serious, other rivalries and histories diminish. What gave me the idea for this scene was an incident years ago in Sussex, when I was driving home on a country road after a dinner party. I saw a car parked, and a woman slumped over the wheel, so I pulled over and went to find out if she was all right. ‘Blub-blub-blub, I’ve taken pills,’ said the woman; ‘my husband’s left me’ and all the rest of it. She was clearly sinking into unconsciousness, so I hauled her out of her car and into my own, and drove into Lewes. It was about one in the morning and I had no idea where to go. That was when I saw a young man walking along the pavement. I stopped and wound the window down, and asked him where the nearest hospital was. Hearing my voice, he turned to me with a whistle, ‘Oh, la-di-da,’ he said, and started to imitate the way I speak. So I said, ‘Look, I haven’t got time for all that now, there’s a woman here who’s taken an overdose.’ He immediately snapped back into the situation, saying: ‘Oh, right. Christ. You go down here, you take the second left, and it’s on your right,’ and I shot off. I have often thought that it was such a good example of how people are capable of telling serious from not serious. His class war became irrelevant as soon as he realised this woman was in real trouble. Here, Mary would not normally take orders from Sybil, but in this instance Sybil knows what she’s doing, and Mary does not. So she just says, ‘How hot should the water be?’ and so on.

  END OF ACT ONE

  ACT TWO

  24A EXT/INT. DOWNTON. DAY.

  Daisy watches anxiously as William is brought in on a stretcher.

  25 INT. SERVANTS’ STAIRCASE. DOWNTON. DAY.

  Thomas and O’Brien are together.

  THOMAS: You should never have told her Bates was here.

  O’BRIEN: Don’t I know it? And she was even worse after she’d seen him than before, ranting on about a scandal that would bring the roof down on the House of Grantham. Silly mare.

  THOMAS: What scandal?

  O’BRIEN: I could make a guess, but I’d rather not. I thought she’d just come up and take a bite out of Mr Bates. That’s what it sounded like.

  THOMAS: Then you should have asked more questions. You know what they say: ‘The devil
is in the detail.’

  O’BRIEN: Well, I’m not standing by while she brings misery and ruin on my lady.

  THOMAS: You started it.

  O’BRIEN: Oh yes, you’re very important, aren’t you? Very know-it-all. With all of us at your beck and call.

  THOMAS: I’m sorry if you’re angry, but don’t take it out on me. You did it.

  26 INT. SMALL LIBRARY/HALL. DOWNTON. DAY.

  Clarkson is with Robert, Violet, Cora, Edith, Carson, Thomas and Mrs Hughes. We can hear the ping pong next door, which means the row must be conducted in whispers and hisses.

  ROBERT: But why? If one of the servants were ill, you wouldn’t turn them out of doors because they don’t hold officer rank.

  CLARKSON: William is not a servant now. He is a private soldier.

  CORA: A wounded private soldier in an army convalescent home.

  CLARKSON: But he is not a convalescent. He is a dying man. So, once again, I’m expected to break the rules. Then Lady Grantham commandeers an ambulance, no doubt leaving dead and dying by the roadside to do it —

  VIOLET: Well, it can go back and get them now.

  CLARKSON: And who is to look after him? Because Nurse Crawley is already fully occupied —

  EDITH: I am. I’m going to do it.

  The irate doctor turns to the manager.

  CLARKSON: Sergeant, were you told about this?

  THOMAS: I was.

  CLARKSON: Why didn’t you send for me?

  THOMAS: Because I don’t see why William shouldn’t come here.

  CLARKSON: This is a home for officers!

  CARSON: Downton is William’s home, too. We all have the right to be cared for in our own home.

  CORA: I agree. And that settles it.

  CLARKSON: Well, I can see I’m fighting a losing battle. But it is very hard, Lady Grantham, to find myself, time and again, defending decisions to my superiors that I have not personally taken.

  With a brisk nod, he marches out. Robert looks at Edith.

  ROBERT: I hope you really can look after him, after all that.

  EDITH: I think so. No, I’m sure I can.*

  As the meeting breaks up, Cora speaks to Mrs Hughes.

  CORA: Oh, Mrs Hughes, we’ve had a letter from Major Bryant. He’s coming back to see his old companions on Thursday. We’re all so distracted, so can you make sure he’s looked after? Give him tea or something.

  MRS HUGHES: Certainly, m’lady.

  * We toyed with the idea of putting William in the hospital, but that seemed to me to be too unrealistic. The family does control the house, even if it does not control the hospital, so there was really only one option, if they were going to take him away from Leeds and bring him home. After all, there isn’t any treatment to be given other than a hot cup of tea and someone to hold his hand. We’ve already established that, so there would be no reason not to have him there.

  27 INT. MRS HUGHES’S SITTING ROOM. DOWNTON. DAY.

  Mrs Hughes is busy packing a basket when Carson looks in. She stops and stands, blocking it from his view.

  CARSON: Lady Sybil telephoned. Captain Crawley’s been brought in. I thought you’d like to know.

  MRS HUGHES: Thank you. How is he?

  CARSON: Still alive. I think that’s about as much as she could say. Lady Mary’s down there as well.

  MRS HUGHES: It’s not like her to get her hands dirty.

  He gives her a look, but does not go on with it.

  MRS HUGHES (CONT’D): Miss Swire arrives from London tomorrow.

  CARSON: Does she, indeed? Miss Swire.

  MRS HUGHES: I’ve put her in Tankerville. It’s quiet and she’ll need what sleep she can get, poor soul.

  CARSON: How’s William?

  MRS HUGHES: They’re settling him in now. I’ll take something up in a minute.

  CARSON: Doctor Clarkson isn’t any happier about it.

  MRS HUGHES: We’ve a funny way of showing our gratitude in this country.

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

  Anna is getting Mary ready for bed.

  MARY: Whom is she going to sell it to?

  ANNA: She didn’t say. Just that there was nothing we could do to stop her. Mr Bates has given her every last penny to keep her quiet, but she’s tricked him, and now he’s got nothing left to bargain with.

  MARY: Well, we both know what I must do.

  ANNA: But how can you ask Sir Richard for help without telling him the truth?

  MARY: I’d rather he heard it from my lips than read it over his breakfast.

  ANNA: Suppose he won’t do anything? Suppose he throws you over?

  MARY: That’s a risk I’ll have to take. I’ll go up to London tomorrow afternoon. It’s a request that demands to be made in person.

  ANNA: What about Mr Matthew?

  MARY: Captain Crawley’s out of danger and Miss Swire will be here to keep him company. I think I can take some time off to save my own neck.

  ANNA: They’re saying downstairs that he won’t walk again.

  MARY: It looks like that.

  ANNA: It’s very hard on Miss Swire. To spend her life behind a wheelchair.

  MARY: I suppose so. Although God knows there’s nothing I’d rather do.

  She smiles sadly, as if this were a joke. Anna looks at her.

  ANNA: Don’t ask Sir Richard, m’lady. Don’t put yourself in his power.

  MARY: Let’s not pretend I have a choice.*

  * The business of newspapers latching onto these things seems very topical, and since we filmed this the Leveson Inquiry and the phone-tapping scandal have only underlined that. There is something strange when the newspapers decide to attack you, as I know, because I’ve lived through it. They just get you in their sights, and bang. And, lest we forget, we didn’t invent sensationalism. Those late-Victorian rags would print drawings of people being shot or knifed, and cheerfully blacken reputations for the sake of selling an extra copy. When Mary is caught in the grip of this culture, the only person she knows to appeal to would obviously be Richard Carlisle. As I have said, he is not modelled on a specific man, but he is an example of that kind of new newspaper baron who had entered society at the end of the nineteenth century.

  29 INT. WILLIAM’S ROOM. DOWNTON. NIGHT.

  William sleeps. Edith is tucking him in and generally tidying up. William’s father and Mrs Patmore are with her.

  EDITH: Why don’t you go home now, Mr Mason, and we’ll see you tomorrow.

  MASON: Are you sure you don’t mind sitting up with him?

  EDITH: He won’t be alone. Not for a moment, I promise.

  MASON: He looks so perfect, lying there.

  He is almost overcome with sorrow as he goes.

  MRS PATMORE: But he does look perfect. Are you sure they’ve got it right?

  EDITH: I’m afraid so. If only I weren’t.*

  * A wonderful actor plays Mr Mason, Paul Copley, whom I’ve been a big fan of for years and years. He has that curious dimension of truth in his work that I find very moving. I remember seeing him in something when I was young and I thought he was going to be a star. In fact, he should have been – a star character actor, like Richard Griffiths or Ben Kingsley. Happily, my enthusiasm for his work was shared by our perspicacious casting director, Jill Trevellick, so she invited him to make what would be a very significant contribution to Downton.

  30 INT. HOSPITAL. DOWNTON VILLAGE. DAY.

  Robert and Lavinia approach the bed, which is hidden behind screens. Robert opens the screens to see Clarkson gently examining Matthew’s spine. He is lying on his side with his back exposed, while a nurse and Mary look on.

  CLARKSON: Can you feel that?

  MATTHEW: Mm.

  CLARKSON: What about that?

  MATTHEW: No.

  CLARKSON: And that? Hm? Nothing at all?

  Mary comes out and kisses Lavinia in greeting.

  LAVINIA: Do they know any more yet?

  MARY: They’re examining him now.


  LAVINIA: So he’s conscious?

  MARY: Just about. We’ll go in as soon as they’re finished.

  ROBERT: Have they found out what happened?

  MARY: They were in a crater when a shell landed near them. The explosion threw Matthew against something sharp; a rock, a fallen tree…

  ROBERT: Go on.

  MARY: Doctor Clarkson thinks there may be trouble with his legs.

  Lavinia gasps and Robert puts an arm round her as Clarkson emerges from behind the screens. He draws them away.

  CLARKSON: Not good news, I’m afraid. There appears to be extensive crushing of the sacrum and lumbar regions.

  ROBERT: What’s the prognosis?

  CLARKSON: It’s early days, but I’d say the spinal cord has been transected, that it is permanently damaged.

  ROBERT: You mean he won’t walk again?

  CLARKSON: If I’m right, then no, he won’t.

  Lavinia bursts into tears.

  CLARKSON (CONT’D): It’s a shock, of course, and you must be allowed to grieve. But I would only say that he will, in all likelihood, regain his health. This is not the end of his life.

  MARY: Just the start of a different life.

  CLARKSON: Exactly. Lord Grantham, I wonder if I might have a word?

  He takes Robert to one side. Mary stays with Lavinia.

  LAVINIA: Have you got a handkerchief? I never seem to have one in moments of crisis.

  MARY: Here.

  LAVINIA: Thank you.

  Out of the women’s hearing, Robert looks shocked.

  ROBERT: You mean there can be no children?

  CLARKSON: No anything, I’m afraid.

  ROBERT: But isn’t there a chance that might change?

  CLARKSON: The sexual reflex is controlled at a lower level of the spine to the motor function of the legs. Once the latter is cut off, so is the former. He will also be permanently incontinent.*

  With sorrow, Robert looks over to the young women. Lavinia has pulled herself together. She straightens her shoulders.

  LAVINIA: Right.

  She walks forward as the nurse opens the screens. Mary would follow, but Robert holds her back slightly.

  ROBERT: Give them a moment together.