Downton Abbey Page 5
He picks up the claret jugs and leaves her to her thoughts.
* This is a demonstration of Carson’s absolute hostility to Matthew, because the young man has broken the heart of his beloved Mary. Carson’s loyalties are pretty simple, but they go deep. He’s never had a child and, in his head, Mary has become his daughter, whether or not he is aware of it. In his view, nobody should marry into this house who is not in Burke’s Peerage or Burke’s Landed Gentry, and he doesn’t mind who knows it, whereas Robert never comments on Lavinia’s birth. She seems a nice girl and knows how to behave and, for him, that’s enough, given that he suspects Mary of having driven Matthew away. Violet, of course, is more judgemental and, like Carson, entirely partial.
27 INT. HALL. DOWNTON. NIGHT.
The orchestra is sawing away at Tales from the Vienna Woods.* Lavinia feels someone’s eyes on her. She looks up and it is Mary who smiles pleasantly. As the musicians get ready for the next item, two women walk down the aisle, looking about. They hand out white feathers to youngish men not in uniform. One of the girls holds out a feather to William.
FIRST YOUNG WOMAN: Here.
WILLIAM: What is it?
FIRST YOUNG WOMAN: A white feather, of course.†
SECOND YOUNG WOMAN: Coward.
William has taken the feather without thinking and now he stares at it. Robert has stood. He walks towards them.
ROBERT: Stop this at once! This is neither the time nor the place!
SECOND YOUNG WOMAN: These people should be aware that there are cowards among them.
ROBERT: Will you please leave! You are the cowards here, not they! Leader, will you continue.
The orchestra strikes up again and the women go. As they do, they pass Branson in the doorway, and hand him one.
BRANSON: I’m in a uniform.
FIRST YOUNG WOMAN: Wrong kind.
Branson only laughs. He doesn’t care.*
* I wanted Tales from the Vienna Woods, by Johann Strauss II, because of the irony of the orchestra playing Austrian music as a war-effort fundraiser. It’s a very slight joke for anyone who was prepared to pick it up.
† In August 1914, Admiral Charles FitzGerald founded the Order of the White Feather, which aimed to shame men into enlisting. Women would present them with a white feather, denoting cowardice, if they were not wearing a uniform – a horrible and smug business, really, which ought to have made them all ashamed, although in fact the campaign was very effective and spread throughout several other nations in the Empire, so much so that it started to cause problems for the Government when public servants came under pressure to enlist. This prompted the Home Secretary to issue employees in state industries with lapel badges reading ‘King and Country’ to indicate that they, too, were serving the war effort.
Of course, the white feather has become rather a cliché now, but I think it’s a useful shorthand for showing how completely ignorant many of the population were about the conditions at the front, and what they were asking these men to do. On the other hand, you need a very strong imperative in order for people to enlist, and if they’d known what they were getting into, a lot of them wouldn’t have. So, one mustn’t make the mistake of thinking these things are ever easy to judge correctly. You’re always trying to balance the different elements.
* I was quite keen to separate Branson from the war effort early on, because he’s an Irishman and he does not support the British Government or the war. Rather than starting him with a protest, it seemed more fun to begin with him making a joke, because he doesn’t care whether they want to give him a white feather or not. Part of being humiliated is to give people the power to humiliate you. And if you don’t give them that power, then you are not humiliated. And here we have William, who does give these cruel young women that power and is humiliated, and Branson, who doesn’t.
28 INT. DINING ROOM. DOWNTON. NIGHT.
William is serving with a very long face. The others are all there, Lavinia on Robert’s right.
CORA: That was horrid, William. I hope you won’t let it upset you.
WILLIAM: No, your ladyship.
ROBERT: Why are these women so unkind?
EDITH: Of course it is horrid, but when heroes are giving their lives every day, it’s hard to watch healthy young men doing nothing.
Carson glances at William, who looks more depressed than ever.
ISOBEL: By the way, Sybil, very good news. They do have a vacancy. It’s very short notice, because someone’s dropped out. You’d need to be ready to start on Friday.
ROBERT: May I ask what this is about?
SYBIL: Cousin Isobel has got me a place on a nursing course in York. I want to work at the hospital.
CORA: We don’t have to talk about it now.
Clearly, she still does not approve.
29 EXT. KITCHEN COURTYARD. DOWNTON. NIGHT.
Anna is with Bates.
BATES: She just turned up at my mother’s house. Not long before she died.
ANNA: So what does it mean?
BATES: I think it means, at long last, I’m able to get a divorce.
She stares at him in silence for a moment before she speaks.
ANNA: Mr Bates, is this a proposal?
BATES: If that’s what you want to call it. And you might start calling me John.
ANNA: Why are you sure she’ll do it now when she’s refused for so long?
BATES: Mother left me some money, much more than I thought. Vera’s a greedy woman. She won’t refuse what I can offer her.
ANNA: Will we have to leave Downton?
BATES: Not until we want to. I’ve spoken to his lordship and he’ll find a cottage for us, near the house.
ANNA: You told him you want to marry me?
BATES: I did.
ANNA: Before you spoke to me?
BATES: You don’t mind, do you?
ANNA: Of course I mind! In fact, I’d give you a smack if I didn’t want to kiss you so much I could burst!
And so, at last, Anna and Bates enjoy their on-screen kiss.
30 INT. SERVERY. DOWNTON. NIGHT.
Carson enters from the dining room with a heavy tray. He is sweating, almost panting, with the effort. Daisy comes in with a covered dish on a silver tray. William is there.
DAISY: Crêpes Suzettes. And there’s just enough. Mrs Patmore’s making some more so they can have seconds, but there’s only one each now.
WILLIAM: Shall I carry them, Mr Carson? Or shall I take the extra sauce?
CARSON: Give him the sauce.
He is gone again, on his manic, driven way.
WILLIAM: I don’t know how he’s going to manage when I’ve gone.
DAISY: Well, you’ve not gone yet.
31 INT. DINING ROOM. DOWNTON. NIGHT.
Carson carries the dish to the table. William follows.
EDITH: Branson says I’m ready for the road.
ROBERT: That’s not what he told me.
Carson has arrived at Lavinia’s left and removes the cover.
LAVINIA: How delicious. I love these.
She helps herself to one and then hesitates. She whispers.
LAVINIA (CONT’D): Do I dare?
Carson gives her a warm smile. She takes another.
ROBERT: Where did you and Matthew meet?
LAVINIA: Oh, in London. My father works in London so I’ve always lived there. But I love the country, too.
VIOLET: Of course you do.
LAVINIA: Daddy’s a solicitor, like Matthew.
VIOLET: My, my. You’re very well placed if you’re ever in trouble with the law.
Robert speaks across the table to Matthew.
ROBERT: Did I tell you I’ve been given a Colonelcy in the North Riding Volunteers? So I’m properly in the Army again.
MATTHEW: Congratulations.
Robert is questioned about this by Violet. Matthew turns to Mary.
MATTHEW: He won’t go with them, will he? When they’re called to the front?
MARY: I hope
not, but he seems to think so… What’s it been like?
MATTHEW: Do you know, the thing is… I just can’t talk about it.
But he can’t not think of it, and his mind drifts away for a moment. Which Mary understands at once.
MARY: Have you missed us?
MATTHEW: What do you think?
MARY: So, might you give up the idea of Manchester and come back to Downton instead? When the war’s over?
MATTHEW: Not Downton, I’m afraid, but maybe London. Swire wants me to join his chambers. Lavinia’s his only child, and he doesn’t want to lose her.
MARY: So you’ll be his Crown Prince, as well as ours.
At the other end of the table, Carson is by Sybil.
CARSON: I’m very sorry, m’lady.
ROBERT: What’s happened?
SYBIL: We’ve run out of pudding, but I don’t care.
CORA: I fear one of you has been greedy.
She has assumed a daughter is at fault, but…
LAVINIA: It’s me… I’m afraid I took two.
SYBIL: Honestly, it couldn’t matter less.
But Lavinia sees Violet raising her eyebrows at Robert.*
MATTHEW: I hope it’s all right. Our coming here tonight. Mother was insistent.
MARY: Papa was every bit as keen.
MATTHEW: You don’t mind my bringing Lavinia?
MARY: On the contrary, I’m glad. Glad to see you happy.
MATTHEW: What about you? Are you happy?
MARY: I think I’m about to be happy. Does that count?
MATTHEW: It does if you mean it.
MARY: You’ll be the first to know.
MATTHEW: So we’ve both been lucky.
MARY: That’s it. Happy and lucky.
She looks into his eyes, wishing she were telling the truth.
* I wanted this sequence to demonstrate a plot by Carson to make Lavinia look bad, as he tried to trick her into taking more than her share of the pancakes in order to show the family that she didn’t know how to behave. Unfortunately, we couldn’t persuade Jim Carter that Carson would be this nasty and so it didn’t look, in the rushes, as if Lavinia had done anything wrong. Because of this, the whole story didn’t work and it all had to be cut. I thought it a shame as it was one of the strands that happens above and below stairs, ending with the dog eating the last pancake in Scene 35, which now comes slightly out of left field. It was a lesson to me. You may write it, but it doesn’t mean they’ll do it. Looking back, I should have taken the trouble to explain the whole narrative to Jim, so it was my fault really. I wanted Cora’s line, ‘I fear one of you has been greedy,’ to wrong-foot Lavinia publicly, giving them all that slight feeling that someone is coming into the family who doesn’t know the rules, when the audience would understand it hadn’t been her fault. A Downton moment. At any rate, that’s what it was supposed to be. That said, all you want is for actors to take possession of their characters, and that Jim has most certainly done.
END OF ACT THREE
ACT FOUR
32 INT. SERVANTS’ HALL. DOWNTON. NIGHT.
O’Brien comes in. She listens from the door.
DAISY: What are you reading?
ETHEL: Photoplay. About Mabel Normand. She was nothing when she started, you know. Her father was a carpenter and they’d no money. None at all. And now she’s a shining film star. It just shows. It can happen…*
O’BRIEN: Ethel, I’ve a message for you. From her ladyship.
This is rather a surprise to everybody. Ethel looks at her.
O’BRIEN (CONT’D): You’re to go up and see her now.
ETHEL: What? Where?
O’BRIEN: In the drawing room, of course. They’re all in the drawing room.
ETHEL: But what have I done wrong?
O’BRIEN: Nothing. Quite the reverse. She’s very pleased with the way you’ve begun and she wants to thank you.
ETHEL: Now?
O’BRIEN: Yes, now. She’s asked for you. How much longer are you going to keep her waiting?
Ethel looks round, then hurries away. The rest are silent. Until the hall boys, and all of them, explode with laughter.
* In this scene, we are laying the groundwork for the fact that Ethel thinks the life she’s been born to isn’t good enough for her. Why shouldn’t she be a film star like Mabel Normand? Which, of course, is a sentiment I entirely endorse. Here we will have a situation where she does get in trouble with the Major, and she should have been more careful and less trusting. But, at the same time, I agree with her that she has every right to dream. Maybe she won’t be a film star, but why shouldn’t she go out and get a job and live a life, and not have to be standing around handing someone their food? Ethel, I’m on your side.
33 INT. DRAWING ROOM. DOWNTON. NIGHT.
Violet is with Cora on a sofa. They are watching Lavinia.
CORA: What do you think of my successor?
VIOLET: She’s not my idea of a countess. But he’s not my idea of an earl.
She shrugs. Mary and Edith are with Lavinia.
LAVINIA: I don’t know much about life in the country. But I do understand how the law works, so I believe I can be helpful to Matthew there.
EDITH: But you’ll be immensely helpful. Don’t you think so, Mary?
MARY: Of course.
The door has opened and Ethel enters. Carson assumes that she is bringing him a message, but instead she addresses Cora.
ETHEL: Beg pardon, m’lady, for keeping you waiting.
CORA: What?
ETHEL: I’m ever so grateful for your appreciation and I want you to know that it’s a privilege to work here.
The whole room is now silent, bemused by this bizarre exchange. Cora turns to the butler to help her.
CARSON: Ethel, what are you doing in here?
ETHEL: Her ladyship sent for me.
CARSON: And who gave you this message?
ETHEL: Miss O’Brien. She said I wasn’t to keep her ladyship waiting.
CARSON: You may go back downstairs now, thank you, Ethel.
ETHEL: Right… Thank you, m’lady.
She bobs and retreats to the door. There is a silence.
VIOLET: Well. Do we think she’s mad? Ill? Or working for the Russians?*
CORA: I’m afraid O’Brien has been playing a trick. Don’t punish the girl.
CARSON: The girl is not the one I’d like to punish, your ladyship.
Isobel is sitting on a sofa with Sybil.
ISOBEL: How are you getting on?
SYBIL: Hmm. I’ve had one lesson and I can make tea and I think I can boil an egg. But that’s about it, so far.
ISOBEL: Well done. Getting a boiled egg right is no easy matter.
* What we’ve lost now is the sense that, long before the Bolsheviks arrived, the tsarist regime was also seen as a dark power, a curtailer of liberty. The 1905 revolution, with the creation of a kind of parliament in the Duma, had altered things slightly, but nevertheless, much as we in the Seventies suspected everyone of ‘working for the Russians’, at the turn of the last century people had a very similar reaction to them. Funnily, and almost paradoxically, at the same time the Russians of the day had a similar role to their modern counterparts; that is, as a group of the super-rich who arrive in London and buy everything. Today, they buy all the nice houses, and go to Cartier and buy diamonds for their mistresses, and in just this way the grand dukes would arrive in the South of France and spend, spend, spend, losing more money at the casino than anyone else. So, you have the sinister element of the Cold War, as well as the money-spending plutocrat of the modern day; both of which were present in the British feelings about the Russians a century ago.
34 EXT. DOWNTON. NIGHT.
Branson is by the car as Isobel and Lavinia are seen into the back seat by Robert. Matthew is walking towards it with Mary.
MATTHEW: She has plenty of time to learn. Cousin Robert will be in charge here for many years. Lavinia will be a lawyer’s wife far longer than she’ll be a countes
s. That’s if I get through the war in one piece.
MARY: Of course you will. Don’t even think like that… How long are you staying in the village?
MATTHEW: Just tomorrow. I take the six o’clock train on Thursday.
MARY: And then you’ll be in France.
MATTHEW: Wherever I’m going, I’m so pleased that we’re friends again.
Does Lavinia look a little anxious as she waits for him?
35 INT. SERVANTS’ HALL. DOWNTON. DAY.
A new day. The servants eat breakfast. Mrs Patmore is there.
ETHEL: I still don’t understand why it was funny. To make me look a fool. You weren’t even there to enjoy it.
O’BRIEN: Oh, don’t worry. We enjoyed it all right, from down here.
CARSON: Miss O’Brien, her ladyship has asked me to take the incident no further. Don’t tempt me to disobey.
O’Brien looks down. Carson decides on a new tack.
CARSON (CONT’D): Did I see Lady Sybil in the kitchen yesterday?
MRS PATMORE: She wants to learn some cooking.
DAISY: She says she’s going to train to be a nurse, so she needs to know how to cook and clean and everything.
CARSON: Has she told her ladyship about this?
DAISY: It’s supposed to be a surprise.
MRS HUGHES: Mr Carson, it speaks well of Lady Sybil that she wants to help the wounded. Let’s not give her away.*
ETHEL: Why shouldn’t she learn how to cook and scrub? She may need it when the war’s over. Things are changing. For her lot and us, and when they do I mean to make the most of it.
Mrs Patmore snorts, and Ethel stares at her, defiantly.
ETHEL (CONT’D): I take it they ate all the pancakes last night, then?
MRS PATMORE: They did.
We follow Mrs Patmore to the kitchen, where she sees Isis.
MRS PATMORE (CONT’D): Here.
She puts a last pancake down. The dog eats it.
* Mrs Hughes, for me, is always a voice of justice. She isn’t in love with the social system they operate under, but she is essentially a fair person. When one of the Crawley girls does something that seems admirable, she’s perfectly happy to stick up for her.
36 INT. CORA’S BEDROOM. DOWNTON. DAY.
Mid morning and Cora is finishing dressing with O’Brien when Robert arrives. O’Brien retreats to tidy things on the bed.