WORKING DRAFT

FADE IN:

EXT. DOWNTON—NIGHT.

CUT TO:

INT. DOWNTON—SAME.

The great house bustles in preparation for dinner. We see a quick montage of downstairs, as the staff prepares the courses.

CUT TO:

INT. KITCHEN—SAME.

Mrs. Patmore mixes a pudding as Daisy tends to a roast that’s just come out of the oven.>

DAISY Does this look done to you, Mrs. Patmore? MRS. PATMORE Why is it I have to do everything in this kitchen myself? (walking to Daisy) Here, let me see that knife?

As Daisy hands the knife to Mrs. Patmore, Daisy’s hand slips, stabbing Mrs. Patmore seven times in the neck, chest, and arms. Mrs. Patmore falls to the floor, pulling the roast and pan with her, bleeding profusely, dead, covered in red-bliss potatoes. Daisy, horrified at the accident, backs up and slips on the roast, falling, and hitting her head on the open cast-iron stove door. She, too, is dead.

Enter Mrs. Hughes.>

MRS. HUGHES This is no time to be lollygagging around, Mrs. Patmore.

A beat as Mrs. Hughes realizes.>

MRS. HUGHES (cont.) Oh, dear.

Enter Jimmy, in a huff, followed by Thomas, red-faced, followed by Alfred, confused.>

JIMMY (to Mrs. Hughes) He touched my bottom again. THOMAS My hand slipped as I was reaching for something. ALFRED Yeah, his bottom. MRS. HUGHES There’ll be no more talk of bottoms or touching in this house. THOMAS Mister Carson won’t be too happy about having a lie down now, Daisy.

A beat.>

THOMAS (cont.) Daisy? MRS. HUGHES I’m afraid they’re dead. JIMMY Crikey! ALFRED But I was going to ask her to Badger Counting Day in the village tomorrow. MRS. HUGHES (heavy sigh) There’ll be no more badger counting for these two I’m afraid. THOMAS What are we going to do about the roast? Mister Carson’s waiting. MRS. HUGHES Jimmy, help get that roast and those little potatoes on a charger and get them to the dining room. Alfred, move the bodies outside. Thomas, stop touching Jimmy. Heavens. Am I the only one who realizes we have a dinner to serve?

All scramble as we

CUT TO:

LORD GRANTHAM’S ROOM—SAME TIME.

Mister Bates dresses Lord Grantham for dinner. After a time…>

LORD GRANTHAM You’re awfully quiet tonight, Bates. BATES Forgive me, my Lord. I’ve no right to be. I shall turn in my resignation now if I’ve displeased you. LORD GRANTHAM What seems to be the matter, old chap? BATES It’s Anna, m’Lord. LORD GRANTHAM Nothing serious, I hope. BATES She’s dead, m’Lord. LORD GRANTHAM It can’t be. BATES I’m afraid it’s true. Hit by a lorry in the village this morning. Dragged a great distance. I’d asked her to post a letter from me to her. LORD GRANTHAM My dear, dear man. A senseless tragedy. And a seemingly senseless errand. BATES Indeed, my Lord. Today is the anniversary of the day we met, seven years ago. Also, her birthday. Also, she was pregnant. But not with my child. LORD GRANTHAM Well, I hope this won’t spoil Badger Counting Day for you tomorrow. BATES Of course not m’Lord. LORD GRANTHAM Good man.

CUT TO:

LADY MARY’S ROOM—SAME TIME.

Edith sits on a chair sulking as Mary looks at herself in the mirror.>