An Unusual Day

Sweeney Todd watched as another of his unlucky customers slid down the chute to the hellish bake house below. He wiped off his razor, not phased at all by what he had just done. He never felt phased by anything accept what had happened fifteen years ago to his Lucy and baby Johanna. He tried to shake the memory of their faces from his head but they were there to stay. They were after all what he had left…or so he thought.

He took notice to the blood spattered on his sleeve. Another shirt for Mrs. Lovett to wash. She usually came up to collect his bloody laundry soon after she heard the customer land with a thud down below. Sweeney waited for her…and waited. He began to get annoyed by her absence and holstered his razor. He put his barbering coat on over his shirt so the stain would not be evident to the whole of London. Then he impatiently strode down the stairs and into Mrs. Lovett's shop.

The bell on the door tinkled merrily to better contrast his angry mood. He scowled when Mrs. Lovett was not in sight.

"Mrs. Lovett!" he called, "Where have you gone?"

He entered the living room to see her slumped on the settee.

"Mrs. Lovett!" he said, startling her.

She sat up quickly but it was apparent that something was wrong.

"What is it, Mr. T?" she asked, her voice sounding hoarse and strained.

"Me shirt needs washing before there's another customer", he replied darkly.

"Oh", she exclaimed, standing up, "I'm so sorry, love. I just don't feel up to mark today."

She threw him a new shirt she had washed not long ago.

"Now go and change, I'll have your shirt washed in flash."

He left the room to change and she fell back down onto a chair. She let out a deep sigh. 'It'll be alright Nellie,' she told herself, 'you're just tired is all.' She had a hard time convincing herself that she would be okay but when Sweeney entered the room and tossed her the bloody shirt, she straightened up as if she were fine. She hurried past him to start washing it but his eyes followed her. He quickly shook off any feelings of annoyance or concern (it was hard for him to tell) and hurried back to his shop.

The sun had started to set when Mr. Todd noticed another oddity. Mrs. Lovett usually brought him dinner at about this time. It had been hours since he gave her his shirt to wash. It wasn't like he ate much of anything when she did bring him dinner but with no other customers, he wondered what she could possibly be up to. He sat down in his chair and stared into space for awhile. The judge, Lucy, and Johanna entered his thoughts but then someone else crept in unexpectedly. It was Mrs. Lovett. Why had she entered his mind? It wasn't normal for the baker to be in his usual revenge thoughts. Then again, this day was not very usual at all.

He sighed and looked to the window. The sun was completely gone. He couldn't suppress slight feelings of concern or curiosity so he stood and headed for the door. He cursed himself for actually feeling a little worry. The worry changed to annoyance and then back to worry, he couldn't decipher what he felt if he felt anything at all. He opened the door to the shop and the bell chimed just as merrily as before. Mrs. Lovett was once again nowhere in sight. The house was completely dark and Sweeney ventured in.

He looked around as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. Then suddenly he saw a mass on the floor. He soon came to realize that it was Mrs. Lovett! She had collapsed on the floor and was lying on her back, a now clean shirt in her hand. Without thinking, Sweeney hurried over to her.

"Mrs. Lovett?" he asked, "Mrs. Lovett!"

She didn't respond and reluctantly, he placed the back of his hand gently against her forehead. He pulled it back immediately and gaped in shock at the hotness of her head. She definitely had a fever.

'What to do', he wondered to himself. He paced about the room for a moment before having a flashback to a time when Lucy had been ill. She had a fever just like this and she was weak, so weak. The doctor said it was the flu. The flu…he snapped back to reality and to Mrs. Lovett sprawled on the floor.

Instinctually, he picked her up, one hand on her back and the other under her legs. He carried her into the hallway and spotted a door that was slightly cracked open. He kicked it open the rest of the way with his foot and then walked in. Sweeney was right; it was Mrs. Lovett's room. He laid her down on the bed and then continued his pacing. He bit at his nails as he wondered what he should do, trying to remember what he had done for Lucy. He placed his hand back on her forehead, uncomfortable with the feeling of her skin against his. Her fever was shockingly high, the reason she had passed out. Sweeney knew the only thing he could do was to lower her fever… but how?

The frazzled man walked into the kitchen and fumbled around in the dark for a rag. He cursed, frustrated, and then finally found one. He then reached for the sink and tried the one he thought was cold. No, it was hot. He growled and pushed the other one forward, this time cold water came running out. Sweeney dampened the rag then turned off the faucet. He folded the wet rag in half and then placed it on her forehead. He paced around the bed, not sure what to do next. He couldn't go to the doctor, no that was no good. A doctor would question what manner of work she was doing and why her hands were stained red from washing the shirt. No, a doctor would be too nosey and too close to the law.

Out of ideas, he pulled a chair up next to the bed and waited. He watched her, really watched her for the first time. He watched her shaky intake of breath and that she was shivering. Sweeney stood and lifted her body off of the blankets so he could cover her with them. He sat back down, his foot bouncing up and down on the floor anxiously. While he watched her, motionless except for her breathing, he thought. Not of revenge or his lost wife and child, but of the baker in front of him. What would he do if she were gone? Who would erase all his murderous evidence? Who would turn his victims into pies? Who would wash his bloody shirts?

To his surprise, not only business concerns bothered him. Did he actually care about her for personal reasons? He had known her when he was Benjamin Barker and he knew her now while he was Sweeney Todd. She had done so much for him…he couldn't help but feel something… No, he wouldn't let himself feel anything for her besides her being his accomplice. Nothing more, nothing less. He scolded himself once again for his straying thoughts. But as he watched her, cold sweat forming on her as the fever captivated her body, he felt a strange pang in his heart. Why was that? Was it because he felt guilty for being so cold to her earlier? No, he didn't think that was it. If killing mostly innocent people didn't make him feel guilty, why would Mrs. Lovett?

He rested his head in his hands and stared at her. She shook still but it wasn't as fiercely as before. Sweeney picked up the extra blanket at the foot of the bed and tossed it over her as well. It wasn't long before she began to toss and turn. He wasn't sure if this was good or bad. At least she wasn't so deathly still. But then she started to moan and clench her hands fitfully. She turned over one way and then turned back to face him. Her brows were furrowed painfully and more persistent cold sweat beaded on her forehead.

For the first time, Sweeney actually felt panic in his heart. He raided the closet for more blankets but there were no more. Still she didn't seem warm enough. 'How else can I keep her warm?' he wondered. Only one answer popped into his head: body heat. No, he couldn't bring himself to lie next to her in the bed. Besides, he could catch her flu. Then again, he could lose her. Why was everything making him so bloody confused tonight? He sat down again, still nervously tapping his foot and thought. 'Should I lie next to her? It won't feel right. I don't want to.'

Then he thought of how she, knowing she was extremely ill, gladly forced a smile and washed his shirt for him. How she had not been disturbed by his coldness towards her. 'Mrs. Lovett…' he thought, 'why do you do so much for me? How do you do so much for me?' Sweeney had no doubt in his mind the amount of love she had for him. She would do anything for Mr. Todd and he would not even lay with her while she fought a fever. He looked at her pained expression and once again felt that pang in his heart. Was it compassion? He hadn't felt in a long time so he wasn't sure at first. But alas, he made up his mind.

With a deep sigh, he stood up and lay down in the bed next to her. Reluctantly at first, he put his arm around her. But it didn't feel as dreadful as he imagined it would be. He actually didn't mind the feeling of her being so close to him. Did he even enjoy it? He didn't know but never the less, he put his other arm around her as well and held her tightly.

Mrs. Lovett awoke the next morning to a shocking surprise. Mr. Todd was lying next to her, his arms resting around her. She suppressed a gasp so she wouldn't wake him. Wake him was the last thing she wanted to do. Was this one of her wild fantasies? Was it all a dream that she would wake from and feel disheartened? No, it felt so real. Then she noticed something, Mr. Todd never slept. And yet, he was lying next to her, sleeping so peacefully, his face untroubled. Little did she know, Sweeney was actually enduring a nightmare.

He sat in his chair, motionless. It reflected Mrs. Lovett's body lying in the bed right in front of him. Why hadn't he laid with her? Why was he so selfish? Why did he never tell her what he felt for her, how much she actually meant? Sweeney would not let a tear fall as he looked at her lifeless form, why did he feel like crying? He never cried, ever.

But there is only so much a man can endure before he reaches his breaking point. His life was ruined even more so than before with his clever baker dead. Her shop would close and then there would be no one to bake his customers into pies. The foul stench of the rotting corpses was sure to attract police and then he would never take revenge on the judge. But not only that, Sweeney felt like weeping for her. He didn't like to think so but he had feelings for her that he couldn't deny. And now she was gone forever, still loving him but she would never know the truth.

Suddenly the police burst through the door and he let out a loud: "NOOOOOOO!"

He suddenly felt her in his arms, rather he in hers. Had she heard him scream? She must have. He immediately felt ashamed but before he could protest, she shushed him lovingly.

"Just a dream", she said, consoling him, "It's okay now."

He didn't like to be cuddled like a child but he for some reason was reluctant to let go.

"Mrs. Lovett…" he said, "You- you're alright."

"Yes, I'm feeling a lot better now", she replied, "I can't believe you did all this just to take care of me."

"I can't believe you'd do all that just to take care of me", he muttered more to himself than to her.

She let him go in shock of the sudden change of heart in him. She looked him in the eyes, making sure that he was the same man. He, for the first time, looked deeply into hers'. He had never appreciated her life as much as he did now and a slow smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

"Mr. T, what's gotten into you today?" she asked as he smiled at her.

"I dunno", he replied, "I guess it's just an unusual day."

To her great liking and surprise, he put his hand around her neck and pulled her closer to him. He shyly pressed her lips against his and she wrapped her arms around him. As he deepened the kiss, she thought: 'What an unusual beginning to an unusual day!'