Downton Abbey Script Book Season 1 (10 page)

CORA (CONT'D): But don't think I'm going to let it rest, Robert. I haven't given up by any means.

ROBERT: I must do what my conscience tells me.

CORA: And so must I. And I don't want you to think I'll let it rest.

With a sigh, he blows out his lamp.

Carson is crossing the hall when he sees Robert.

CARSON: Would it be acceptable for Bates to ride in front with Taylor? Otherwise, it means getting the other car out. He and His Grace are catching the same train.

ROBERT: Perfectly acceptable. And if His Grace doesn't like it, he can lump it.

Carson almost smiles as he goes off to sort this out.

Crowborough is leaving. He stands with Cora at the door.

CROWBOROUGH: You've been so kind, Lady Grantham. Thank you.

CORA: Goodbye, Duke.

Her voice is cold. She holds out her hand stiffly.

CROWBOROUGH: You'll make my farewells to your delightful daughters?

CORA: They'd have been down if they'd known you were leaving so soon.

CROWBOROUGH: Alas, something's come up which has taken me quite by surprise.

CORA: Obviously.

Robert now emerges from the main door, with Pharaoh.

CROWBOROUGH: Well, Grantham, this has been a highly enjoyable interlude.

ROBERT: Has it? And I feared it had proved a disappointment.

CROWBOROUGH: Not at all, not at all. A short stay in your lovely house has driven away my cares.

He catches Thomas's eye as the latter is strapping on the luggage. The other servants are in attendance. Taylor, the chauffeur, stands by the open door.

TAYLOR: We ought to go, m'lord. If His Grace is to catch the train.

Robert walks over to Bates, who is by the car.

ROBERT: Goodbye, Bates. And good luck.

BATES: Good luck to you, m'lord.

Crowborough has climbed in. The chauffeur shuts the door and gets in, as does Bates. The car is moving off, when—

ROBERT: Wait!

The car stops. Robert runs forward, opening Bates's door and pulling the case off the valet's lap.

ROBERT (CONT'D): Get out, Bates.

CROWBOROUGH: I don't want to be late.

Robert ignores him, holding the door. A shocked Carson runs forward to close the door after Bates. Taylor drives off.

ROBERT: Get back inside. And we'll say no more about it.

Bates takes his case and goes. Robert looks at his butler.

ROBERT (CONT'D): It wasn't right, Carson. I just didn't think it was right.

On the steps, Cora looks on this with resignation and goes inside. Carson shepherds the other servants away. Thomas and O'Brien are in a rage. Anna is delighted. The others are mainly just curious.

A large, suburban villa. The postman walks down the path.

This is a pleasant room. A handsome woman in her fifties, Isobel Crawley, is eating breakfast with her son, Matthew, who reads a paper. A maid carries in letters on a salver.

MAID: First post, ma'am.

ISOBEL: Thank you, Ellen.

She takes them, holding one out to Matthew. He opens it and reads. He looks astonished.

MATTHEW: It's from Lord Grantham.

ISOBEL: Really? What on earth does he want?

He scans the letter a little more.

MATTHEW: He wants to change our lives.

They digest this extraordinary remark together.

 

 

Matthew and Isobel Crawley are being driven by Taylor. The car turns into a gate.

TAYLOR: Here we are, ma'am. This is Crawley House.
*

MATTHEW: For good or ill.

Isobel gives him a sharp look as the car comes to a halt and Taylor gets out. They speak in lowered tones.

MATTHEW (CONT'D): I'm still not sure we've done the right thing. Why are we here?

ISOBEL: For the thousandth time, we're here because you will inherit a great position for which you are completely unprepared. Would you rather arrive in twenty years' time as an ignorant stranger?

Taylor opens her door, and she climbs out. Matthew gets out and joins her on the far side, as Taylor unstraps the bags.

MATTHEW: I still don't see why I couldn't just refuse it.

ISOBEL: There is no mechanism for you to do so! You
will
be an earl. You
will
inherit the estate. Of course you can throw it away when you have it, that's up to you.
†

MATTHEW: And do you approve?

ISOBEL: Whether I approve is neither here nor there. It will happen.

A butler, Alfred Molesley, has come out of the front door but he hangs back, seeing they are talking. Now Matthew turns to him.

MATTHEW: Can I help …?

MOLESLEY: I'm Molesley, sir. Your butler and valet.

MATTHEW: I thought we were to be looked after by Ellen and Mrs Bird.

MOLESLEY: Lady Grantham employed me, sir.

MATTHEW: Mr Molesley, I'm afraid—

ISOBEL: May I introduce ourselves? I am Mrs Crawley and this is my son, Mr Matthew Crawley.

MOLESLEY: I'll just give Mr Taylor a hand with the cases.

MATTHEW: I can—

ISOBEL: Thank you, Molesley.

Molesley and Taylor start to carry the bags inside. Isobel and Matthew walk behind them. He lowers his voice.

MATTHEW: I won't let them change me.

ISOBEL: Why would they want to?

MATTHEW: Mother, Lord Grantham has made the unwelcome discovery that his heir is a middle class lawyer and the son of a middle class doctor.

ISOBEL:
Upper
middle class.

She's rather miffed by his description.
*

MATTHEW: He wants to limit the damage by turning me into one of his own kind.

ISOBEL: When you met him in London, you liked him.

They have reached the front door and they go inside.

Robert is at his desk. His wife is with him.

ROBERT: They must be here by now. I've sent Mary down to greet them.

CORA: I simply do not understand why we had to rush into this.

ROBERT: Matthew Crawley is my heir.

CORA: But Patrick was your heir. He never lived here.

ROBERT: Patrick was in and out of this house since the day he was born. You saw how many of the village turned out for the service.

CORA: But nothing's settled yet.

ROBERT: Yes, it is settled, my dearest one, whether you like it or not.

CORA: I wouldn't say that. Not while your mother breathes air.

This makes him smile.

Matthew and Isobel are with a maid, Ellen.

ISOBEL: Oh, Ellen, this is much better than I thought it would be. You have done well.

Molesley comes in, carrying a small attaché case.

MOLESLEY: Would you like this in here, ma'am, or taken up to your room?

ISOBEL: In here, thank you. So, are you the whole of our new household?

MOLESLEY: There's a local girl, ma'am. Beth. She's to double under housemaid and kitchen maid.
*

MATTHEW: This is ridic—

ISOBEL: Thank you very much, Molesley. And do you know Downton well?

MOLESLEY: I grew up in the village, ma'am. My father's still here, but he's widowed now. That's why I wrote to Mr Carson.

Matthew looks at his mother with an expression that makes her anxious they should be alone before he speaks.

ISOBEL: Might we have some tea?

MOLESLEY: Very good, ma'am.

The man goes, shutting the door. They are alone.

MATTHEW: Well, he can go right now.

ISOBEL: Why?

MATTHEW: Because we do not need a ‘butler'—or a ‘valet', if it comes to that. We've always managed perfectly well with a cook and a maid and they cannot expect us—

Isobel turns on her son quite severely.

ISOBEL: What they expect Matthew, is that we won't know how to behave. So if you don't mind, I would rather
not
confirm their expectations!

MATTHEW: I have to be myself, Mother. I'll be no use to anyone, if I can't be myself. And before they—or you—get any ideas, I will choose my own wife.

ISOBEL: What on earth do you mean?

MATTHEW: Well, they're clearly going to push one of the daughters at me. They'll have fixed on that when they heard I was a bachelor.
*

MOLESLEY: Lady Mary Crawley.

She is standing in the doorway in a riding habit. She must have heard. Both Crawleys are extremely flustered.

MARY: I do hope I'm not interrupting.

ISOBEL: Lady Mary—

MARY: Cousin Mary, please. Mama has sent me down to welcome you and ask you to dine with us tonight. Unless you're too tired.

ISOBEL: We would be delighted.

MARY: Good. Come at eight.

She is about to leave.

ISOBEL: Won't you stay and have some tea?

MARY: Oh, no. You're far too busy, and I wouldn't want to push in.

Her slight emphasis on the word ‘push' tells us she heard Matthew's speech. She walks out, leaving them stunned.
*

Mary has been helped onto her side-saddle by the head groom Lynch, who mounts as Matthew comes out. She ignores him.
†

MARY: Lynch, I think we'll go back by the South Lodge.

LYNCH: Very good, m'lady.

MATTHEW: Lady Mary, I hope you didn't misunderstand me. I was only joking.

MARY: Of course. And I agree. The whole thing is a complete joke.
‡

The two horses move off. Matthew has begun badly.

There are the remains of a tea, bread, butter, jam, on the table. O'Brien is cleaning a bracelet, while Anna mends the trimming on a bodice. Gwen is there, eating, and William and Daisy. Thomas reads his newspaper. Bates drinks tea.

THOMAS: So what do you think we'll make of them?

O'BRIEN: I shouldn't think much. She hasn't even got a lady's maid.