Downton Abbey Script Book Season 1 (17 page)

MRS HUGHES: What's brought this on?

CARSON: Nothing. Except at times I wonder if I'm just a sad old fool.

Mrs Hughes has been adjusting her hat in the glass, but now she turns to give him her full attention.

MRS HUGHES: Mr Carson, you are a man of integrity and honour, who raises the tone of this household by being part of it. So no more of that, please. Now, wait while I fetch my coat.

She scurries off, leaving Carson thoughtful and alone.

William is talking to Daisy. Around them, the other servants are setting off in overcoats and hats.

WILLIAM: I wondered if you'd like to walk with—

DAISY: Is Thomas going?

WILLIAM: I think everyone is.

DAISY: Sorry, What were you saying?

WILLIAM: Nothing. Doesn't matter.

He leaves as Mrs Patmore appears.

MRS PATMORE: Put that in the larder before you go, and never mind your flirting.

DAISY: I wasn't flirting. Not with
him
.

She finds the idea outlandish, which puzzles the cook.

MRS PATMORE: William's not a bad lad.

DAISY: He's nice enough. But he isn't like Thomas.

MRS PATMORE: No. He is
not
.

Matthew is being dressed in a morning coat by Molesley.

MOLESLEY: Cuff links, sir?

MATTHEW: Those are a dull option for such an occasion. Don't you agree?

Molesley can't believe what he's hearing.

MOLESLEY: Might I suggest the crested pair? They seem more appropriate, if you don't mind my saying.

MATTHEW: They're a bit fiddly. I wonder if you could help me.

MOLESLEY: Certainly, sir.

He puts them in, then holds the coat open quite jauntily.

MATTHEW: I see you got that mark out of the sleeve. How did you do it?

MOLESLEY: Oh, I tried it with this and I tried it with that, until it yielded.

MATTHEW: Very well done.

MOLESLEY: Thank you, sir.

He is almost grinning.

People are going into the hospital. Carson and Mrs Hughes arrive just after Bates.

CARSON: You go in, Mrs Hughes. I want a quick word with Mr Bates, here.

The housekeeper goes in with the others.

CARSON: Mr Bates. I must thank you. Both for what you did, and for keeping silent afterwards. It was kind of you. And Anna.

BATES: It was nothing.

CARSON: I hope you don't judge me too harshly.

BATES: I don't judge you at all.

Something in his tone makes the other man look at him.

BATES (CONT'D):
Believe me
, I have no right to judge you. Or any man.

Violet, Isobel and Clarkson step up onto a dais. The crowd is below them. Some patients are there, including Drake, still in a wheelchair but transformed. His wife is with him. Cora whispers to Robert, nodding at the audience.

CORA: Why are you doing this? And why so many witnesses? Is it just to punish your mother?

ROBERT: Not ‘punish.' I'd say it was to teach her a lesson.

Violet stands, ramrod straight, as Clarkson speaks.

CLARKSON: Ladies and gentlemen, welcome, to this happy event. The investiture of our first Chairwoman, Mrs Reginald Crawley, who has graciously agreed to share the duties of our beloved President, the Dowager Countess of Grantham. Our little hospital must surely grow and thrive, with two such doughty champions united as they are by the strongest ties of all, family and friendship.

Violet and Isobel glare at each other with thinly disguised loathing.

 

 

The house catches the morning sun. Bates comes out of the kitchen courtyard and walks away, as briskly as he can.

Bates comes into the shop.

POSTMISTRESS: There you are, Mr Bates. It's in. Came this morning.

She hands over a 1913 version of
Exchange and Mart.

BATES: They said it would. But that isn't quite the same thing.

As he is leaving, he bumps into Gwen by the door. She is carrying a package and, for some reason, is flustered.

BATES (CONT'D): Hello. I could have posted that for you.

GWEN: I prefer to do it myself.

BATES: I'll wait outside.

Bates and Gwen are walking back together.

BATES: I've got a secret, too.

He smiles as he holds the rolled up magazine. She is nervous of confirming her own secret. She just nods.

BATES (CONT'D): You're all in for a surprise.

GWEN: A nice one, I hope.

BATES: Very nice, yes. Very, very nice.

They walk on.

Anna is standing on a chair, moving things around on top of a cupboard. She is investigating an immensely heavy box.

GWEN (V.O.): What are you doing?

Anna is so surprised by this that she almost falls. She steadies herself. Gwen is standing in the doorway.

ANNA: If you must know, I'm trying to find some space on top of the cupboard to make life easier.

Gwen relaxes. But she is not off the hook.

ANNA (CONT'D): So what's in it, then?

GWEN: What?

ANNA: A bleedin' great packing case that weighs a ton. That's what!

She pats the box. Gwen looks almost shifty.

GWEN: Can't you just leave it?

ANNA: No. I can't. And you'll tell me right now. Unless you want me to ask Mrs Hughes about it.

Gwen thinks, then motions to Anna to get off the chair.

Cora is walking. She turns the corner of the path to find Mary sitting, reading a letter.

CORA: Anything interesting?

MARY: Not particularly.

She folds the page and puts it away.

MARY (CONT'D): It's from Evelyn Napier. You met him with the Delderfields, last November, at Doncaster races.

CORA: Is that Lord Branksome's boy?
*

MARY: It is.

CORA: Do you like him?

MARY: I don't
dis
like him.

CORA: And what's he writing about?

MARY: Nothing much. He's out with the York and Ainsty next week, and the meet is at Downton, so he wants some tea when he's here.

CORA: Where's he staying? With friends?

MARY: He says he's found a pub that caters for hunting.

CORA: Oh, we can improve on that. He must come here. He can send the horses up early if he wants.

MARY: He'll know why you're asking him.

CORA: I can't think what you mean. His mother's a friend of mine. She'll be pleased at the idea.

MARY: Not very pleased. She's dead.

CORA: All the more reason then. You can write a note, too, and put it in with mine.

MARY: Shall I tell him about your friendship with his late mother?

CORA: I'm sure you of all people can compose a letter to a young man, without any help from me.

The two women are staring at a new typewriter on the table.

ANNA: How much did it cost?

GWEN: Every penny I'd saved. Almost.

ANNA: And is this the mystery lover?

Gwen acknowledges the truth with a raised eyebrow.

GWEN: I've been taking a correspondence course in typing and shorthand. That's what was in the envelopes.

ANNA: Are you any good?

GWEN: Yes, I am, actually.

She blushes with a slight smile, proud of herself.
*

ANNA: But what's it for?

GWEN: Because I want to be a secretary.

ANNA: What?

GWEN: I'm bored with being in service. I'm not saying it's wrong or anything like that, but I'm bored with it. It's not for me. I want to join a business and earn some money and not … be a servant.

Anna is digesting this when the door flies open on O'Brien. The maids stand together, blocking the view of the table.

O'BRIEN: Her ladyship wants the fawn skirt that Lady Mary never wears. The seamstress is going to fit it to Lady Sybil but I can't find it.

ANNA: I'll come in a minute.

O'BRIEN: They're waiting now.

ANNA: One minute. I'm just changing my cap and apron.

She can't of course move without revealing the typewriter. O'Brien goes. As she speaks, Anna fetches a frilly cap and apron for the afternoon and pins them on. So does Gwen.

ANNA (CONT'D): Have you told anyone? What did your parents say?

GWEN: I can't tell them ‘til I've got a job. Dad'll think I'm a fool to leave a good place. And Mum'll say I'm getting above myself. But I don't believe that.

She looks at her fellow maid defiantly.

ANNA: Nor do I.

Violet and Cora are with Robert, who's reading the paper.

CORA: It's not of my doing. It's all Mary's own work. But I think we should encourage it.

ROBERT: Branksome's a dull dog but I don't suppose that matters.

CORA: Did you know his wife had died?

ROBERT: He only ever talks about racing.

But, for Violet, it's time to get down to business.

VIOLET: Cora's right. Mary won't take Matthew Crawley, so we need to get her settled before the bloom is quite gone off the rose.

CORA: Is the family an old one?

VIOLET: Older than yours, I imagine.

ROBERT: Old enough.

CORA: And there's plenty of money.

VIOLET: Really?

ROBERT: Mama, you've already looked him up in the stud books and made enquiries about the fortune. Don't pretend otherwise?

Violet draws herself up and becomes very grand, indeed.

ROBERT (CONT'D): Are you afraid someone will think you American if you speak openly?

VIOLET: I doubt it would come to
that
.