Previously, on Downton Abbey: The estate hosts its first big house party since Matthew’s death, complete with a performance by a world-renowned opera singer, a new man for Mary (sort of), a crisis of self-worth for Tom, a super-creepy valet named Green who sexually assaults Anna, and a ridiculously over-the-top focus on card games that utterly no one cares about. Molesley still doesn’t have a job, and has to fill in as a footman at Downton, which he feels is beneath him. Edna works on flirting with Tom and getting him stupid drunk. Alfred makes sauces like a champ. And Cora is actually the least annoying person on the show for once.
Oh, Anna. The episode opens with Anna walking to work at Downton and looking forlorn. Bates arrives and is confused about why Anna didn’t wait for him to come to work. There is clearly Something Wrong with Anna, as illustrated by the giant I HAVE EXPERIENCED AN EMOTIONAL AND PHYSICAL TRAUMA sign blinking above her head, but, deploying his usual perceptiveness, Bates doesn’t seem to notice. Bates wants to know if it’s something he’s done, but Anna insists that no one’s done anything. They arrive at breakfast, where Anna manages to last all of thirty seconds because she’s forced to sit next to Green, the Horrible Rapist. She suddenly invents some task or other to do and bolts from the room.
The Party Guests Depart. Green the Horrible Rapist and his unsuspecting boss Gillingham are packing up to head out after their weekend with the Crawleys. Mrs. Hughes shoots death glares at Green. Robert says goodbye to Edith and Her Mr. Rochester-esque boyfriend, who he likes now because Gregson saved him from losing a bucketful of money at cards. Tom gets some kind words from the Duchess he’s been embarrassing himself around for the past several days about surviving grief, which is surprisingly touching. He also generally looks wickedly hungover. Gillingham says goodbye to Mary – who is wearing a positively stunning purple velvet dress – and asks her again about meeting up in London. Mary once more says no (dude: take the hint!), but still stares after his car as it pulls away.
The Taxman Cometh. Mary’s plan to talk to the tax collectors about the death duties due on Downton kicks into motion. She and Tom are to go meet with them, collect information about rates and length of payment and report back to Robert so that they can all discuss it. Robert’s still not crazy about the idea of paying installments on a debt for twenty years, but Mary argues that her plan is the best way to be a true caretaker of Downton and keep the estate self sufficient. You’d think that Robert would be into this what with his constant speechifying about how they are the caretakers of the estate for their forefathers, blah blah zzzzzzzz, but I guess he’s more interested in his daughter not being right. Rose overhears that Mary’s headed to London and she totally wants to tag along, because she’s Rose and that seems to be her primary plot point.
The Worst Storyline Ever Gets Worse. Tom runs into Awful Edna (I really need a better nickname for her but I can’t think of a suitably loathsome soubriquet that starts with the letter E. Help?) in the great hall. She had thought Tom might come down to see her, what with what happened between the two of them the night before. Tom looks horrified and embarrassed and says that he’s ashamed to say so but he was very drunk last night. He won’t deny being with her, but he’s sorry if he behaved badly, due to his general low spirits and unfortunate self indulgence. Edna starts whinging on about how clearly Tom’s being cold because he’s ashamed of what they did. And her point isn’t entirely inaccurate, because this is clearly a guy trying to get away from an awkward hookup at light speed and it’s just rather hilarious because I hate her. He says he’s very sorry if he behaved badly and he’d daresay they both are. Burrrrrrrrn.
Edna follows him upstairs to his room to say that he can’t treat a girl like this. She says he can’t use her and toss her aside – and randomly asks what they’ll do if it turns out she’s pregnant. They have a SUPER awkward moment where it’s not entirely clear whether either of them understand how the birds and the bees work before Tom declares that it doesn’t matter because she won’t know for weeks if she’s pregnant anyway. Edna says she must be sure that Tom will marry her if she is pregnant because she’s an incredible manipulative gold-digger. (Oh, wait, she may not have said that last bit out loud.) Tom looks constipated. She says she has to know if he’s going to be a man of honor – and then she insists that he can’t possibly say she’s not good enough for him, because if he was good enough for Lady Sybil Crawley, she’s good enough for him. This logic…is not very logical, but okay. Awful Edna is crazy, so we shouldn’t expect but so much. Tom gets angry at her for bringing Sybil up at all, and Edna insists again that she just needs his word that they’ll get married if there’s a baby. She stresses these words so heavily that literally everyone else on earth except poor dumb Tom has already realized that she’s plotting to go get a baby from somewhere if he says yes, but that particular clue boat just passes Tom right by. Edna continues on with her Monologue from Crazy Town, saying that if she is in fact pregnant she’s going to make a proper go of being his wife and not hold him back or anything. She says he won’t regret being with her. Tom looks gutted and says he’s full of nothing but regret. Well done, Edna.
Violet’s Supportive Streak Continues. Isobel and Violet continue their new found BFF-dom with a walk around the church. They chat about Dame Nellie Melba’s performance at Downton the night before, and Violet tries to find a tactful way to ask about how Isobel felt seeing Mary getting back to her old self a bit around Gillingham. Isobel admits that it was very hard watching Mary move on, but admits that her feelings don’t seem very defensible. Violet says they are defensible to her and, honestly, it’s okay if you maybe awwwed out loud for a second right there because it’s a very sweet moment between two women who’ve spent so much time at each others’ throats. Hurrah for maturity and character development. The Dowager says that she hopes Isobel finds a way to make friends with the world again, and that she isn’t criticizing or judging her for how she feels. So cute!
Great More Kitchen Staff Drama, Said No One Ever. The Team Downstairs Love Quadrangle of Doom continues. Hurrah. (Translation: In this instance, Hurrah means “Stab me.”) Anyway, Ivy’s been given her first big kitchen assignment for Mrs. Patmore and she’s both excited and nervous. None of us care, but Alfred is intrigued because he’s still into her for some unfathomable reason. I guess that this must be a more interesting storyline than when Jimmy sprained his wrist last week using a jar of jam, but the bar is pretty low.
Some time later, Jimmy tries some of the asparagus whatever it is that Ivy’s working on, insults her cooking and asks her whether she really even cares about this stuff anyway. Guys, Jimmy is such a catch. Ivy says yes, she does, she wants to be a good cook and wants to have a skill. Jimmy says he wants to travel and drink champagne and meet beautiful women and have a life that’s fun. He starts twirling Ivy around the kitchen and is totally about to kiss her when Alfred and Daisy walk in on them. Alfred shouts that he should report them to Mrs. Patmore, while Daisy just goggles.
Anna and Bates are Unhappy Because Apparently That is Their Default State. Anna tells Bates she’s to go to London to take care of Mary and Rose. She says it’ll only be for a day or so, but jerks away very obviously when he touches her arm. She quickly apologizes, claiming she’s just tired and insisting Bates hasn’t done anything wrong. Bates says he must have done something wrong because he has a martyr complex you can see from space. Honestly, the aftermath of this whole situation is just strange. I feel so awful for Anna, because something utterly terrible has happened to her and she’s so obviously hurting, but I’m also oddly annoyed because Bates is somehow turning a situation that’s about her into something that’s all about him. He’s so convinced that he’s done something because he’s unworthy blah blah whatever that he can’t see the obvious fact in front of him that there’s really something wrong with his wife that’s got nothing to do with him.
Bates complains that she won’t talk to him or even come near him – and Anna kind of snaps. She says the two of them are just in its others pockets all the time – they live together, they work together, and sometimes she thinks that’s just too much. They both look miserable and I remember that Anna and Bates are the designated Suffering Couple on this show, so we should have known when they looked so happy back in the first episode where we are headed.
Carson and Mrs. Hughes are the BEST. Carson and Mrs. Hughes are doing this thing where it seems like they have a drink together every night, and I’m busy flailing around, as I appear to do now whenever the two of them have a scene with one another, because they are just so perfect together. Carson is regaling Mrs. Hughes with stories about his Time in the Circus Long Ago. He’s telling her all about Alice, the woman he was in love with, who basically left him for Boring Mr. Grigg, the guy Mrs. Hughes helped find a job a couple weeks ago. Carson, in a burst of uncharacteristic openness, is telling her about how much he cared about Alice and how full of passion he was and how much he wanted to marry her, and we’re all just pretty much sitting her wondering when he’s going to realize that Mrs. Hughes is right there and they should get their act together. But, I digress (sorry, I just love them).
He tells Mrs. Hughes that Grigg told him that Alice said she wished she’d chosen Carson instead. Carson says that since Alice is dead now this doesn’t matter very much, but she disagrees insisting that it makes a big difference when you know that someone you loved did in fact love you back. Carson says that still doesn’t change anything, but she insists that it changes him, or at least from where she’s sitting.
And Mrs. Hughes Keeps Bringing the Truth. Anna barges in at this point before any more awesome truths can be shared and Carson flees because Anna looks tense and upset. She tells Mrs. Hughes that when she gets back from London she wants to move back into the main house and out of the cottage she shares with Bates because she just can’t bear being there. She’s crying, and saying that she can’t even let him touch her, even though she knows he’s done no wrong. Anna insists that she’s not good enough for Bates now and feels that somehow she must have somehow made this happen. Mrs. Hughes, because she is the most awesome person on this show, drops some truth: She says that’s nonsense, that Anna was attacked by an evil, violent man, and that there’s no sin or blame in that. Anna, still crying, says that she feels soiled and awful because of what happened to her. Which I understand is a very realistic reaction, but wow, this storyline is so hard to watch.
Mrs. Hughes tries once more to get her to go to the police – after all (because apparently this is a theme of this episode?) what if she turns out to be pregnant. Anna says she’ll kill herself if that’s true. Mrs. Hughes is not having that kind of talk, and she doesn’t want someone like Green to get away with what he did. Anna then goes on another over the top speech about how Mrs. Hughes will have to come with her to the prison to visit her husband after Bates has killed Green, so they can visit him before he’s hanged. Because apparently Bates is only capable of one response to this and that is KILL KILL KILL? Seriously, ladies, how about we entertain a world where Bates just doesn’t kill Green? There’s a justice system, it exists, why not give that a go?
To be fair, I’m sure Bates would be out for vengeance, but how about just…I don’t know something else besides murder? The constant refrain of OMG WE CANT DO ANYTHING TO PUNISH THIS GUY BECAUSE BATES WILL JUST KILL HIM is so unnecessarily melodramatic – particularly when it’s being done simply as a plot device, to keep Anna and Bates at odds with one another, and to make sure that Anna has to keep holding on to this devastating secret. Mrs. Hughes says Bates’ heart is breaking for not knowing, and Anna says it’s better for him to have a broken heart that a broken neck. Mrs. Hughes gives up and says Anna can have a room, as long as she comes up with some reason to give her husband.
Alfred’s Dream Job and Terrible Taste in Women. Jimmy gets Ivy to come with him to the Boot Closet We’ve Never Seen Before This Season to make out, but Daisy spots and follows them. Alfred comes into the kitchen to tell Daisy and Mrs. Patmore about a training school being set up in London at the Ritz hotel, to teach a few candidates how to become chefs. If they pass the test the chosen candidates get free training and a basic wage and the chance of a job after. They have two tests a year, apparently. Alfred wants to tell Ivy about this for some totally unfathomable reason as Ivy can cook exactly one thing that we’ve seen, and Daisy directs him to the boot room to find her. Whoops, Alfred opens the door on Jimmy and Ivy kissing and is all kinds of upset.
Later on, Alfred decides to start studying for the chef’s entrance exam himself and Mrs. Patmore says she’ll help him. Daisy refuses to do so, pretty much because she doesn’t want Alfred to leave Downton. After Alfred heads to bed, Mrs. Patmore – who is co-sharing the Mrs. Hughes’ Amazing Wisdom Tiara today apparently – tells Daisy that she has to help him because even though it will be hard, in the end it will be much easier for them to part as friends. She points out that maybe it’s better if Alfred goes, because sometimes you can spend too long on a one-sided love. PREACH, MRS. PATMORE, PREACH.
Surprise Dinner Party in London. Mary comes down for dinner at Rosamund’s and finds out that Cora’s surreptitiously engaged her aunt to throw a dinner party while she’s in town, in order to invite Lord Gillingham. Because that’s not obvious at all. Mary looks a bit taken aback to see the unexpected guests, but covers it well. She says she hopes Miss Mabel Lane Fox didn’t mind him cancelling on her to come see them. Gillingham smiles, awkwardly, and asks Mary not to punish him for wanting to see her again. So, folks, how are we supposed to be feeling about Gillingham? He seems nice enough I suppose, but he’s not particularly interesting and he has a fiancée that he’s apparently throwing over to spend time with Mary, who has told him repeatedly that she’s not really ready for anything romantic. Yet, he keeps trying, like a well-meaning sort of stalker, but without actually getting rid of the fiancée he’s sort of but not quite cheating on. Oh, I don’t know – the issue is that he seems to be hedging his bets a bit, which feels smarmy, even if I do think he’s interest in Mary is at least mostly genuine.
Let’s Hit the Club. After dinner, Rose’s new friend John wants to take them to hear the jazz band at the Lotus Club. After some begging and awkwardness everyone agrees to go – even Tom and Rosamund. The club is very bright and posh and Gillingham convinces Mary to dance as soon as they arrive. Mary tells him she’s glad he came to see her, that now that she’s in London this whole night out feels a bit like playing truant and she likes it. Gillingham asks to see her again before she leaves, but Mary doesn’t see how that’s possible. And she points out again that he’s told her he’s engaged to be married. Almost engaged, says Gillingham. Which okay, whatever. Mary responds that almost is good enough for her – and reiterates that she’s just not ready to get into anything now, and won’t be for some years. Gillingham says that he doesn’t believe that, though why he’s suddenly an expert on Mary and Matthew, their relationship or mourning I don’t know. Mary says she’s had fun with him, but it’s time for her to go back to real life again.
We also meet Jack Ross, the lead singer of the band and, I do believe, the first character of color that’s ever appeared on Downton in any capacity. He pops in to save the day when Rose’s drunk gentleman friend gets a little too wasted and rushes off to find the loo, leaving her in the lurch in the middle of the dancefloor with no partner. Jack swoops in, asks if Rose is alright and starts dancing with her. Rose looks kind of swoony, because let’s face it, this is a pretty swoon worthy maneuver, while we cut to Rosamund clutching Mary’s hand and gasping in shock at the sight. Which I’m not sure was supposed to be quite as hysterical as I found it, but I just couldn’t stop laughing. Her face. Rose and Jack make small talk for a second and learn each others’ names’ before Tom is sent over to – awkwardly, as that seems to be his schtick now – fetch her back to the table. Rose defends Jack’s behavior to Tom, Rosamund and the rest of the table as they get up to leave. Rosamund deploys an epic glare and swoops out, while Jack manages to get a wave in to Rose as she leaves, which makes her smile.
The Bates and Anna Unhappiness Hour Continues. Everyone gets back from London safely. Tom stomps off as soon as the car pulls up. Mary looks worriedly after him. Bates greets Anna downstairs and asks how the trip went. She says it was okay, and looks very nervous and small. Bates tries to get Anna to kiss him, but she’s says she has stuff to do. He says either kiss him or tell him what’s wrong, and Anna gets angry. She tells him not to bully her (which is actually kind of deserved). Bates says he can tell she’s unhappy but he can’t tell why, and he needs to know what it is. He swears he will find out what it is because he just has to. Carson appears in the midst of this to ask Anna to tell Mary that Lord Gillingham has arrived because apparently he is actually some form of stalker. Anna visibly starts at this, saying that they just saw Gillingham in London, and clearly freaking out internally that this means she might have to see his valet Green, the Horrible Rapist. She’s relieved when it turns out that it doesn’t look like Gillingham will be staying (thus probably no Green) but her reaction her should be a red flag to anyone watching that this all has to do with what’s upsetting her so badly. Not that it seems as though any of the men are paying enough attention to catch this, but I guess we’ll see.
Mrs. Hughes Gets All the Awesome Points. Mrs. Hughes, because she is the best person on this show, is now holding court and giving advice to Tom, who has filled her in on his plethora of poor recent life choices, to include sleeping with (or something close to it, there seems to be some confusion on this point) Edna. Mrs. Hughes says that this is indeed a sorry tale, and that a large portion of it is just really Tom’s fault. (Sidebar: Mrs. Hughes is my hero.) Tom tells her that he couldn’t think of anyone else to turn to for help. The two of them start working on a plan to get him out of this mess.
Hey, Gillingham Might Be Kind of Crazy. Gillingham is waiting for Mary in the drawing room, having basically stalked her back to Yorkshire from London. Mary seems rather flustered by his arrival and actually has to take a moment to compose herself before going in to see him. Gillingham looks anxious. He says he was on the same train she was, but hiding in a different carriage because he didn’t’ want to speak to her with Tom and Rose and everyone else around to hear. Ominous!
Anyway, it turns out that Gillingham arrived to ask Mary to marry him. Which, on the face of it, seems positively crazy. He just met Mary again maybe like a week ago, he’s already got one woman he’s kind of sort of supposed to be marrying, and Mary’s not even out of half-mourning for the man who was the love of her life. If this is supposed to be making us root for these two to get together, surprise, this approach is not working. Happily, it doesn’t seem to be working for Mary either. She looks positively taken aback for a beat, before she simply tells Gillingham that he doesn’t know her. He argues that they’ve known each other since they were kids – but Mary quite rightly points out that they really only met properly very recently. And now he wants to spend the rest of his life with her? Say what? Apparently that is exactly what Gillingham wants. He says he loves her and then proceeds to THIS convincing argument, sure to cause ladies to swoon all over: Look, I never met Matthew but I’m sure he was a splendid chap. But he’s dead and I’m alive. Oh, okay, then. Charming.
Gillingham says the two of them are good together, and could be very happy if she’d let them. I just. Have I started taking crazy pills? Is there any reason I’m supposed to think this is romantic? Why should Mary say yes to a man whose primary winning quality appears to be his not-deadness? But what about Miss Mabel Lane Fox the almost-fiancée, Mary asks. Gillingham pretty much scoffs, and says that he likes Mabel a lot, but he’s in love with Mary. He says she fills his brain and that he can’t stop thinking about her. This is more than a bit out of the blue, and it’s hard to argue that we’ve seen any evidence of the two of them being so swept away by emotion that we should be buying into any of this. Mary says he’s very persuasive and he urges her to let herself be persuaded. She says she wishes she could, but…. Gillingham tells her that she can take as long as she needs, years even, as long as she’ll agree to marry him in the end. And we’re all just in a state of shock here basically and don’t know what to do with ourselves. How is this even a real conversation that just happened?
Mrs. Hughes Crushes It. Mrs. Hughes gets Awful Edna to come visit her and Tom in her office. Edna says that it’s obvious that the two of them plan to gang up on her and try and pay her off. Mrs. Hughes, in her most glacial tone, asks why ever they would do that. Edna seems disoriented for a moment – and then goes through her well what if I’m pregnant spiel again. Mrs. Hughes says she wasn’t planning to offer her anything, because there is no child. Edna huffs that there’s no way she can know that. Mrs. Hughes says that yes, actually she does know that, and there’s no baby, because there’s no way that Edna would have let herself get pregnant without being sure that Tom would step up and take care of her. Tom, working the stupid look that’s served him so well all these years, asks what if he’d agreed to marry her and she wasn’t pregnant. Mrs. Hughes explains that if he’d agreed Edna would have gotten pregnant somehow, with whatever candidate she could find. Mrs. Hughes says that she doesn’t have proof of any of this, but if Edna persists in her lying, she’ll summon the doctor and have him examine her whether she likes it or not. Edna says she can’t stop her from speaking to Cora, at least. Mrs. Hughes says, that’s true, she can’t, but if she wants a reference or another job in her life time at all ever, she’ll keep her mouth shut.
Basically: Mrs. Hughes. Is. My. Hero. Especially when it turns out that she basically bluffed her way through that whole conversation, powered by her righteous dedication to protecting those she cares about. She says at least they know the truth of Edna’s story now. Tom nods. And I’m so relieved I can barely type that we aren’t dragging this overly soapy pregnancy plot out another week.
Edith’s Adventures in London. Edith’s visiting Gregson in London and his butler has left for the night so it’s just the two of them in his posh flat until he returns at eight the next morning. They’re sort of nervously flirty together, and we find out there’s a week to go until Gregson is off for his poorly thought out new life as a German citizen. He says he has something for Edith to sign, some sort of document that’s to give her some authority over his affairs. They make small talk about what Gregson will do while he’s waiting for his paperwork to process in Germany and flirt about whether they’ll go out for dinner, before kissing. Edith hesitates for a second, but then the kissing continues and the music swells and, well. I think we’ve all guessed what’s going to happen next. What a modern girl Edith has become!
The End of Edna. We cut to Edna running up the stairs in a tizzy. Thomas passes by her on the way down and asks her what’s got her all worked up. Edna says it’s none of his business. Thomas smirks and says he thought they were all about to be dancing to her tune or whatever. Edna whirls and asks him whether he knows why everyone hates him so much. She says it’s because he’s sly and oily and smug, and she’s pleased she got the chance to say so before she left. Thomas grins his patented Thomas-shark smile – and this time it’s actually awesome to watch – and says if they’re playing the truth game, Ednaa probably ought to know that she’s a manipulative little witch and if her schemes have come to nothing, then he’s delighted. Edna turns and flees, as all evil must do in the face of a greater evil. It’s like Thomas is Sauron.
We then see a shot of a lone figure hurrying across the perfectly manicured Downton grounds. Bye, Edna. Absolutely no one will miss you. While I’m over the moon to see this character depart because I detest her, this whole sequence just begs the question – what was the point of bringing her back at all to annoy us for three episodes? If nothing has changed – Tom’s exactly where he was when all this started, Thomas is still winning, no one in the house has even found out about Tom’s dalliance with the help that didn’t already know about it – wasn’t it all just a waste of time? It wasn’t even good drama. I am side-eyeing Julian Fellowes pretty hard for this, I must say.
Edith Gets Busted. Rosamund totally calls Edith out about staying out until 6am during her overnight adventure at Gregson’s. Edith tries to deny it, but Rosamund’s not having it, as her maid saw her come in that morning. She says Edith’s taking a great risk, trusting Gregson with her name and reputation, and just look what that got her with Sir Anthony Strallan. Edith looks quite hurt by Rosamund’s comments, but only asks whether she’s planning to tell Cora. Rosamund says no, since her niece is a grown woman and she herself isn’t a spy – but she reminds her again that she’s risking her future and has no guarantees, no matter how much the world may be changing. Dun dun dunnn
Mary Gives Gillingham an Answer. The next day, Mary and Gillingham go for a walk around the estate because he wants her answer to his proposal. Mary asks what happens if she refuses and Gillingham helpfully mansplains that they both know he must marry because that’s how the system they’re trapped in works. Mary asks him not to rush into anything. But Gillingham says he won’t humiliate Mabel Lane Fox (unless he can get what he really wants, that is), so he’ll probably just go ahead and marry her if Mary says no. He says he’d break up with her for Mary, but he feels he’s honor bound to go through with his other engagement if he can’t have her instead. I have a lot of problems with this entire scenario – one of which being that it’s entirely too early in the season, and in Mary’s grieving process for her to have someone legitimately trying to get her to get married again, and, two, the double standard used by Gillingham here is nauseating. Sure he may want Mary more, but he’s certainly not going to end up alone. And also it’s gross – I don’t care if Mabel Lane Fox is the worst person on earth, she deserves better than a man who seems to view her as a bargaining chip on his best day.
Mary looks genuinely conflicted for several moments, before she tells Gillingham that it’s no good. She says she’s not free of Matthew, that he still fills her head every day, and that she just doesn’t want to be without him yet. This is some wonderfully subtle work by Michelle Dockery, conveying a bunch of feelings all at once. There’s a moment of silence between them before Gillingham asks her for one last favor. He wants her to kiss him, which is actually also kind of gross and really manipulative. He says he’ll never love anyone again as he does in this moment and he must have something to remember it by. Which is really kind of creepy and aggressive if you think about it too hard, so I’m going to try not to do that. They kiss, and it’s not very romantic, though the sweeping camera angle and the rising music seem to desperately want you to think that it is. To me, it seems like a weird sort of romantic bullying, and I just can’t see a lot of women swooning over a guy going on about how obsessed he is with a girl several days after meeting her and then forcing his affections on her in this way. What if Mary didn’t want to kiss him? I mean, it seems obvious on some level she must have, but even asking her for that at all is a very uncomfortable gesture for me.
The two of them pull away and Gillingham takes his leave, after another overly flowery bit of dialogue about how much Mary is his darling. Whatever. When Mary returns to the house, she looks a bit sad, but not crushed by events, though she tells Tom that she’s afraid she’s done something she may regret for a long time to come. How are we supposed to be reading this scene? Are we meant to feel bad for Gillingham? Proud of Mary for owning her grief? Hoping these two crazy kids will work it out?
It’s very confusing. But I guess we’ll have to see where we end up next week – I doubt we’ve seen the last of Gillingham. Thoughts? Share them in the comments!