Downton Abbey

by Julian Fellowes

  * For our own narrative purposes, in this instance, Robert decides to sleep in his dressing room. In fact, as we have already made clear, he doesn’t sleep separately from his wife, as many men did then. But even for couples who slept together, a bed in a dressing room remained an essential for many years after this. And not just a bed, but a bed that was permanently made, with clean sheets. This is true, I should perhaps say, of my own life, because to have a bed that is always made up means that, if you develop a cough or someone suddenly has to stay the night, you don’t have to fuss around. You’ve already got one extra bed in the house that is permanently ready.

  29 INT. MRS HUGHES’S SITTING ROOM/PASSAGE. DOWNTON. EVE.

  Anna comes in. Mrs Hughes is sewing.

  ANNA: Her ladyship’s been taken ill. So when the doctor gets here, can you hold onto him and tell Lady Edith?

  MRS HUGHES: I thought she wasn’t looking too clever.

  Anna leaves and runs into Bates in the passage outside.

  ANNA: Oh, I’m glad I’ve got you.

  BATES: Aren’t you serving?

  ANNA: They’re on the main course so I can spare a moment. I’ve been thinking… and I have to say something that you won’t agree with.

  He looks at her. She takes a breath.

  ANNA (CONT’D): We’re going to get married.

  BATES: Don’t be silly. We can’t, not now. Would I risk your being widowed by the noose?

  ANNA: You’re not listening. You’re going to Ripon tomorrow afternoon to take out a special licence — I don’t care how much it costs — and fix a day. We’ll tell no one. But this you will do.

  BATES: I can’t.

  ANNA: Aren’t I as strong as Lady Sybil?

  BATES: I don’t doubt that.

  ANNA: Well then, if she can do it, so can we. That’s what I’ve been thinking. I have stuck by you through thick and thin.

  BATES: Thin and thin, more like.

  ANNA: Then you will grant me my deserts, please, Mr Bates. If we have to face this, then we will face it as husband and wife. I will not be moved to the sidelines to watch how you fare from a distance, with no right even to be kept informed. I will be your next of kin, and you cannot deny me that.*

  He looks into her eyes. Jane comes running down the passage.

  JANE: Anna! You’d better come! Quick!

  * Anna’s determination to marry Bates is moving, but it also has some resonance in the modern world, since the importance she places on being Bates’s official next of kin was one of the bases of the Civil Partnership Bill. What people forget is that a simple request or statement was never enough to turn someone into your next of kin, in a hospital or a prison or anywhere else. Even if you’ve been someone’s girlfriend or boyfriend and lived with them for many years, this counted for nothing unless your kinship was officially recognised and sanctioned. Anna’s desire to marry is partly because of her love and loyalty, but it’s also that she doesn’t want to have to deal with their coming trials while being shut out from all deliberations. As Bates’s wife, she will have an official position from which to fight, and that’s really what she’s after. Of course, until the Civil Partnership Bill, this was not an option open to gay men and women, who often had to stand and watch as forgotten cousins from the shires took precedence over their partner in any official context. Thank heaven that’s over.

  30 INT. SERVERY. DOWNTON. EVE.

  Molesley’s slumped over the carafes of wine as they run in.

  ANNA: Mr Molesley, what’s happened? Haven’t you taken that in yet?

  MOLESLEY: I’m not well. I’m not well at all.

  JANE: First Mr Carson, then her ladyship and now him.

  ANNA: Help him down to the servants’ hall. The doctor can take a look at him, too, when he gets here.

  31 INT. DINING ROOM. DOWNTON. EVE.

  ISOBEL: And to Downton. Doctor Clarkson says he’s got ten cases already…

  Anna arrives at Robert’s right with the carafe. He looks up.

  ROBERT: Ah, I thought Molesley had joined the Temperance League.

  ANNA: I’m afraid he’s been taken ill, m’lord. I am sorry.

  ROBERT: Molesley, too? Good heavens, everyone’s falling like ninepins.

  Mary notices that Lavinia, who has been silent, looks grey.

  MARY: Lavinia?

  LAVINIA: Do you know, I’m not at all well, either. I wonder if I could lie down for a minute.

  MARY: Of course. Come to my room. They’ll have lit the fire by now.

  LAVINIA: Excuse me.

  Lavinia stands, again so do the men, and the two women leave.

  ISOBEL: Do you think we should take her home?

  MATTHEW: No, let her rest for a moment.

  ISOBEL: Well, I think I should go and help.

  She stands. So do the men. She goes, leaving an empty chair.

  VIOLET: Wasn’t there a masked ball in Paris when cholera broke out? Half the guests were dead before they left the ballroom.

  ROBERT: Thank you, Mama. That’s cheered us up no end.*

  * Spanish ’flu did tear through households, and often you would get several members of the same family falling ill, as well as their staff or fellow workers. It must have been so frightening. Violet’s reference to the masked ball in Paris is not invented. As a young man, I was fascinated by an engraving – not, I think, by Dürer, but it was that sort of thing – of a costume ball at some point in the fifteenth century where, during the evening, cholera struck. It was not that it actually killed them within seconds, but it rendered them incapable of moving, so they sank to the floor and died there. The result was this extraordinary scene in a Paris ballroom, of people dead while still in fancy dress. I remember the image vividly, and what Violet says here is perfectly true.

  END OF ACT TWO

  ACT THREE

  32 INT. BEDROOM PASSAGE/HALL. DOWNTON. NIGHT.

  Clarkson and Mrs Hughes leave Cora’s room. Robert is walking towards them.

  MRS HUGHES: I’ll take you to Mr Carson now. And then to see Mr Molesley in the servants’ hall.

  ROBERT: Doctor Clarkson. You’re kind to come. How is she?

  CLARKSON: Not too bad, I’d say. But she’ll need some nursing for a day or two.

  ROBERT: Oh, don’t worry about that. All our daughters are professionals. Let’s leave her to get some rest.

  Now Mary and Isobel walk down the passage towards them.

  MARY: Miss Swire may be another victim. But she’s sleeping now, so I don’t want to disturb her.

  CLARKSON: When she wakes, give her some aspirin and cinnamon in milk and keep her here. I’ll look at her in the morning.

  MARY: Why cinnamon? How can that help?

  CLARKSON: It’s to bring down the temperature.

  ISOBEL: Tomorrow, we could try them with some salt of quinine.

  MARY: If it is the ’flu, is it serious?

  CLARKSON: It’s a strange strain and a cruel one. Normally, children and the old are the most vulnerable, but this seems to strike at young adults who should be able to throw it off… I’d better go to Carson.*

  ISOBEL: I’ll come, too.

  Mrs Hughes and Clarkson share a look, as she takes them by a door to the servants’ staircase. Robert is left with Mary.

  ROBERT: If you’ll excuse me, I’ll go to bed.

  He kisses her and walks off. She continues on down the main stair. Matthew is alone in the hall, on the edge of the empty floor by the gramophone, leafing through records.

  MARY: Where is everyone?

  MATTHEW: I’m not sure. Cousin Violet’s gone home.

  MARY: What about you?

  MATTHEW: I’m waiting for Lavinia and Mother.

  MARY: Doctor Clarkson wants Lavinia to stay here. He’ll see her tomorrow… I don’t know this one.

  She is looking through the recordings.

  MATTHEW: Actually, I rather like it. I think it was in a show that flopped. Zip Goes a Million, or something.

  He puts on the record a
nd ‘Look for the Silver Lining’ starts to play. He holds out his hands, and they begin to dance.*

  MARY: Can you manage without your stick?

  MATTHEW: You are my stick.

  They dance on for a moment.

  MARY: We were a show that flopped.

  Her words hit the target. He looks at her. His face crumbles.

  MATTHEW: Oh God, Mary.

  He whispers into her ear, as close to her as a lover.

  MATTHEW (CONT’D): I am so, so sorry. Do you know how sorry I am?

  MARY: Don’t be. It wasn’t anyone’s fault, or if it was, it was mine.

  MATTHEW: You know Cousin Violet came to me and told me to marry you?

  MARY: When was this?

  MATTHEW: A while ago. When we knew I would walk again. She said marriage was a long business and if it was you that I loved then you were the one I should marry.

  MARY: Classic Granny. What did you say?

  MATTHEW: That I couldn’t accept Lavinia’s sacrifice, of her life, her children, her future, and then give her the brush-off when I was well again… Well, I couldn’t, could I?

  MARY: Of course not.

  MATTHEW: However much I might want to.

  MARY: Absolutely not.

  But the admission is enough. A moment later they are kissing.

  LAVINIA (V.O.): Hello?

  They spring apart to see Lavinia coming down the stairs.

  MATTHEW: What are you doing up?

  LAVINIA: Shouldn’t we be getting back?

  MARY: It’s decided. You’re staying here. Doctor Clarkson’s coming in the morning, so he can treat all of you together. You can borrow some things until Matthew brings you what you need. I’ll go and organise a room.

  She walks out towards the green baize door.

  MATTHEW: How do you feel?

  LAVINIA: Like a nuisance.

  MATTHEW: You could never be that.

  LAVINIA: I mean it, Matthew. Don’t ever let me be a nuisance. Don’t ever let me get in the way. Please.*

  * For once, Clarkson diagnoses the illness correctly, and he has his work cut out. Cinnamon in milk was a period treatment to bring down the temperature; it was supposed to have some sort of coolant effect. I cannot comment on its efficacy. Clarkson’s explanation of it was cut, but in a way I agree with that; I like references that seem puzzling, but when you look them up you find they’re completely accurate. I was sadder to lose the curious – and true – fact that Spanish ’flu was most pernicious with young adults. This meant that many men died who had survived the war, which seems cruel even by nature’s standards.

  * The treatment of ‘Look for the Silver Lining’, here, wasn’t quite as I’d imagined it. I wanted it to start with the slightly thin sound of an actual recording from the period, and then for the tune to be taken up by a hidden orchestra until they were dancing to a lush, heart-moving treatment of this very romantic tune by Jerome Kern. But for some reason the production decision was instead to bring in a version of the Matthew and Mary theme, and only go back to ‘Look for the Silver Lining’ at the end. I’m afraid, for me, the two tunes jarred and the result was rather less than enchanting; in fact, the sound had a slightly unpleasant dissonance. Usually, when I see what I’ve written realised, it is, if anything, better than I had imagined, but in this instance I found that what should have been an incredibly romantic moment wasn’t quite. But of course that was only a personal opinion. I don’t remember any letters of complaint.

  * I thought Zoe Boyle, as Lavinia, was charming in this section, and very touching. Without the lines to express it, she nevertheless made it quite clear that she realised that once Mary was coming after Matthew, full on so to speak, it was an unequal contest. A really good piece of work.

  33 INT. SERVANTS’ HALL. DOWNTON. NIGHT.

  Molesley is slumped over. Clarkson is with Mrs Hughes, O’Brien and others. Clarkson talks as he goes to examine Molesley.

  O’BRIEN: I’ll sleep on a chair in her room.

  CLARKSON: Oh, no. There’s no need for that.

  O’BRIEN: I don’t mind. I’d like to be on hand.

  MRS HUGHES: So we’re quite the hospital again.

  CLARKSON: You’ll probably gain some more patients over the next few days. But you don’t need to worry about Molesley. He’ll be fine in the morning.

  MRS HUGHES: Oh?

  CLARKSON: Uh-huh. The others have Spanish ’flu. He’s just drunk.

  Molesley raises his head as if to protest, but no.†

  † Kevin Doyle is a wonderful actor. He has created this extraordinary, three-dimensional, emotionally wracked loser that I now write for. His Molesley has that marvellous combination of being both hilarious and very moving – a gift to a writer.

  34 INT. LAVINIA’S BEDROOM/PASSAGE. DOWNTON. NIGHT.

  Anna and Jane have made the bed. Jane folds the bedcover.

  ANNA: I’ll fetch Miss Swire.

  She leaves. Jane follows. In the passage, Bates is walking away. The door opens. Robert is there in his dressing gown.

  JANE: Oh, did you want Mr Bates, m’lord?

  ROBERT: I forgot to say I want to be woken early.

  JANE: Well, I can tell him that… Freddie got into Ripon Grammar. So whatever you said, it worked.

  ROBERT: Marvellous. Some good news at last.

  JANE: I hate to hear you talk like that.

  Somehow her words alter the tone to a more intimate one.

  ROBERT: I’m sorry. That was selfish of me. To spoil your happy moment.

  JANE: You need never say sorry to me… How are you? Really?

  ROBERT: Since you ask, I’m wretched. I lost my youngest child today, I suspect forever, and I can’t see any way round it.

  JANE: I wish you knew how much I want to help. In any way.

  ROBERT: Do you?

  JANE: I think you know I do.

  He holds out his hand and draws her into the room.

  35 INT. CARSON’S BEDROOM. DOWNTON. NIGHT.

  Mrs Hughes is waiting for Carson to drink the brown milk.

  CARSON: I’ll see if I can get up tomorrow.

  MRS HUGHES: Oh, don’t be foolish. You’re ill, and in all probability you’re going to be a lot iller in the morning.

  CARSON: Yes, but how will you manage? And what about the wedding?

  MRS HUGHES: I’m not sure there’ll even be a wedding. But, either way, I won’t burden you with it.

  CARSON: Well, perhaps Mr Molesley could come on a permanent basis? Until I’m better.

  MRS HUGHES: I doubt that’s the solution, Mr Carson. Neither my patience nor his liver could stand it.

  36 INT. ROBERT’S DRESSING ROOM. DOWNTON. NIGHT.

  Robert is kissing Jane.

  ROBERT: If you only knew how much I’ve longed for this.

  JANE: Have you, really? Because I have. I know it should feel wrong, but it doesn’t. Not to me.

  ROBERT: Right or wrong, by God, it feels free. Free of the war, free of duty, free of my life. I’ve lived so long according to my duty and now I find myself constantly wondering why —

  They kiss again but there is a knock and the door is opening.

  ROBERT (CONT’D): Who is it?

  Robert pushes Jane behind the door, then opens it further and stands there, facing Bates. His heart is pounding.

  BATES (V.O.): I’m sorry, m’lord. We never settled the time you wanted to be woken.

  ROBERT: Early, I think, with everyone ill. Seven. I’ll breakfast at half past.

  BATES: Very good, m’lord. Goodnight.

  He goes and Robert shuts the door. Jane comes to him. She lifts her arms to embrace him again, but he holds them.

  ROBERT: This isn’t fair. I’m placing you in an impossible situation.

  JANE: I want to be with you. I want to make things easier for you. Let me.

  But Robert steps back, releasing her arms. She looks at him.

  JANE (CONT’D): I see. You don’t want me now.

  ROBERT: I want you with
every fibre of my being. But it isn’t fair to you, it isn’t fair to anyone.

  JANE: You didn’t say that a moment ago.

  ROBERT: And in that moment I have woken up. I am myself again. Oh, my dear, I wish I had it in me to break the rules and glory in it. But that isn’t the man I am or could be. I wish I were different, I wish everything were different.

  JANE: I don’t want you different. I like you the way you are.

  ROBERT: Thank you for that. I will cherish it. Truly.

  But he opens the door, looking up and down the passage. He comes back and takes her hand. She kisses her finger and touches his cheek, then slips out.*

  * When I first wrote this scene, I did intend to put them into bed, but when I thought about it, I felt it wasn’t really truthful. With his wife dangerously ill, and with everything else swirling about him, Robert would not do that, not once he’d had time to think. And here, Bates’s intervention is key, because it wakes Robert up. Once he has woken up to the fact that he’s kissing a maid while the woman he loves is his wife, then he can’t go on with it. Jane may be up for some action, possibly, but she’s in a different situation. Her husband is dead, she’s in love with Robert, and in this I’m sure she’s perfectly sincere. In other words, she doesn’t have the same emotional brakes to apply. But anyway, Robert wakes up, and so it’s not going to happen. Jane has lost, which she is decent enough to accept.

  37 INT. SERVANTS’ HALL. DOWNTON. DAY.

  Mrs Hughes is at her wits’ end. So is O’Brien.

  O’BRIEN: I’m not easy. I’m not easy at all. When will the doctor see her?

  MRS HUGHES: As soon as he gets here and not before.

  What does his lordship say?

  O’BRIEN: I don’t know. He’s gone out.

  MRS HUGHES: What about Miss Swire?

  A hall boy comes in coughing. He hands Mrs Hughes a letter.

  ANNA: Not too bad, I think. I’ll take her up something on a tray in a minute.

  MRS PATMORE: And we’ve three kitchen maids down, so it’s me and Daisy contra mundi.

  By now, Mrs Hughes has glanced through the missive.