I wrote this quite a while ago, but only got around to editing and posting this. I apologize in advance for it, but couldn't bear to not post it. :P Enjoy this little one-shot.
Summary: In which Mrs. Lovett speaks freely with her Cockney accent and Lucy strives to correct her English. Humor. (Set when there was still a Benjamin Barker.)
Nellie Lovett's Worstest Grammar
It was a quiet evening in London, to be more specific, on Fleet Street, in the two-story building that housed Mrs. Lovett's pie shop, her home, Mr. Barker's barber shop, and his home he rented from Mrs. Lovett. On this quiet, warm summer's evening on Fleet Street, Nellie Lovett had already closed up shop to rest her aching bones. She sat in her parlour, sipping a cup of tea, accompanied by Lucy Barker, Benjamin Barker's wife, and her year old child. Nellie often found Lucy annoying, and even envied her often, but found herself mildly content with the blond's company.
Nellie was nearly the bottom of her cup of tea, and set it down for a moment so it might last a bit longer. "So where's Benjamin gone to tonight, then, love?" she asked Lucy, who was busy mending something. A dress of her own, possibly, telling from the soft-looking, delicate light pink fabric. Then again, it could've just as easily been one of Johanna's blankets. That child was a spoiled one, if Nellie had ever seen one.
"Benjamin is tending to business tonight, a Mr. Hamilton," Lucy said in her noble and strong, but still soft voice, not looking up from her needle and thread. "He scheduled an appointment at this time for a shave, could never quite get another chance soon, and didn't want anyone to fill his open slot."
"Ah," Mrs. Lovett said, not having much to work off. "Would I know 'im?"
"I don't imagine so," Lucy said, still not looking up from her work. Nellie waited a few moments in silence, staring at Lucy, before sighing and slumping down in her seat so that her head and shoulders were the only parts touching the back of the chair. She frowned up at the empty fireplace, where a fire had been absent for a while, except an unseasonal chilly night. It was the middle of summer, anyway. But Nellie often missed the comforting glow, the unpredictable cracks and pops of the fire that startled her sometimes, and even the pain of tending to it so it wouldn't go off and die.
"I do wish you would use proper manners and etiquette around Johanna," Lucy said with a bit of tire in her voice, like she had said it thousands of times. Nellie didn't doubt that she might've. But nonetheless, Nellie furrowed her brow and pursed her lips, staying slumped.
"The li'l girl isn't even old enough to know what's right 'n what's wrong. Won't make a difference whether I do or I don't."
Lucy looked up for the first time with a look of annoyance on her face. Nellie prepared herself for the long and boring lecture Lucy was just about to give her which Nellie wouldn't apply to her life. In truth, Nellie hated the woman. She really did. She only put up with her because of the fact that she loved her daughter as her own, loved her husband like she wished he were her own, and because she paid rent. If not for those things, Nellie would've already kicked the woman out in the streets. Hell, she might beat her out of the shop with a rolling pin. The corner of Nellie's mouth cracked a small bit of a smile as she thought of beating the blond out with her trusty rolling pin like she often beat out the drunkards.
"Eleanor, you know it won't be like that forever. Johanna is past one, and is growing even more intelligent every day. I would appreciate it so if you didn't start teaching her bad habits."
"Oh 'ell!" Nellie moaned, adjusting herself so she wasn't slumping any more in the chair. "Isn't like the dear is gonna get worser manners in a bloody day!"
Lucy's frown deepened. "I should also appreciate if you didn't curse in front of her. I won't have Johanna running about the house yelling profanities." Lucy looked down again and Nellie muttered a much fowler curse under her breath. "I should also like if you would use proper grammar."
Nellie rolled her eyes. "You know I ain't a-"
"Not," Lucy interrupted. Nellie blinked.
"You know I'm not. You'd say 'Not' instead of 'Ain't'. It's really an awful habit of yours, Eleanor," Lucy said, looking up once again with a blank expression.
Nellie narrowed her eyes. "You know I ain't a smart girl. I didn't go to school for 'rithmatic or readin'. Albert taught myself 'ow to read, 'n I only know basic maths to run the shop. 'ow in the world 'm I to know what's proper 'n what's not?"
"If you so wish, I could teach you," Lucy offered with a certain coldness.
"I've got better things to do with my precious time," Nellie said in an even colder tone. There was a small spell of silence between the two. Johanna made a few soft noises, but otherwise, silence filled the room. Lucy began mending the cloth again.
"How has Albert been doing lately, Eleanor?" Lucy asked softly, as if their little tiff hadn't happened moments ago. Nellie scowled at how absurdly forgiving she was, but Lucy was looking down and didn't see.
"Sitting around on 'is arse," Nellie grumbled. Lucy looked up and shot Nellie eye daggers in warning.
"So where is he?"
"Don't know where Albert's gotten off to," Nellie grumbled. "Just as well, it's nice to get a break from 'im."
"Are you two having troubles?" Lucy asked nonchalantly. Even if they were, it's not like Nellie would've told Lucy.
"My 'ole life is trouble," Nellie grumbled back.
Lucy looked back up. "Is something wrong, Eleanor?" Nellie nearly rolled her eyes.
"No more than usual," she said, crossing a leg. Suddenly, a thought from earlier today occurred in her mind. "Actually, there was this funny li'l thing that 'appened in the shop t'day."
"Oh?" Lucy asked, eyes on her needle.
"One of the men 'ad a bit too much to drink, 'n hopped up on the table. I just took my rollin' pin 'n started for 'im to get 'im down, but not before 'e could dedicate Three Blind Mice to 'is boat," Nellie snorted. "Was just 'bout the bloody funniest thing I'd seen in my life."
Lucy looked up, a bit startled, then sighed, and started her mending again. "Sometimes I wonder if your business gets to your head," Lucy said. Nellie raised an eyebrow.
"'ow so?"
"Well, it's just that with the pies you sell, I've seen on more than one occasion ale, or gin, or some kind of alcoholic beverage being sold. Most take it in reasonable amounts, but I've seen drunk men fighting, or slurring around the shop. It unnerves me, and it seems like you haven't a second thought to it," Lucy explained.
"I still don't see the problem, dear."
"It's just that Johanna is growing up. She's going to be exploring, and want to explore your shop. Now, if you're having to show men out the door, or worse, laughing at them because they can't find it on their own, what kind of role model are you to Johanna?"
Nellie rolled her eyes again. "Keep 'er out of the shop, then. Singin' a song is perfectly 'armless. Long as the men don't got any-"
"Have," Lucy broke in. Nellie stopped in mid-sentence, hardly believing herself.
"Are you correcting my bloody grammar again?" she asked with irritation.
"Yes, in fact, I am, Eleanor," Lucy answered calmly. Nellie exhaled with pursed lips and shut her mouth, not willing to speak any more. "Continue, Eleanor."
"No, I don't think I will," Nellie snapped, more dramatically than she possibly should have. Lucy looked up with a tired expression.
"Why do you hate me so much, Eleanor?"
"Where do I start? You annoy the livin' 'ell out of me, try to change me to be some sort of suitable nanny for your child, think everythin' through calmly like some kind of perfect angel, and to top that, I'm in love with your 'usband and would DIE to be in your place!" That's what Nellie wanted to say, but instead she lied. "Course I don't 'ate you, Lucy. I adore you 'n your family, Benjamin or anyone else could tell you that."
"Yes, I suppose so," Lucy said.
"So what are you fixin' up there?" Nellie asked, curiosity getting the best of her.
"A dress. It was my mother's, and I'm altering it so it will fit me," Lucy said, frowning and pulling out an odd stitch.
"If I ever 'ad to fix me up a dress, I'd go straight on down to a tailor, I would. Save me a 'ole bunch of trouble," Nellie commented.
"It'd hardly save you any money, Eleanor," Lucy said back. Nellie sighed.
"No denying times is hard," Nellie sighed. Lucy stopped mending for a moment and glanced up at Nellie. Nellie caught her eye for a split second, but then Lucy's gaze dropped quickly. She bit her lip and started mending again. Nellie sighed once more. "What?"
"Are," Lucy said quietly.
"What?"
"Are," Lucy repeated. "You'd say, 'Times are hard'."
Nellie shot up on her feet and held her hands up in the air. "Bloody 'ell! I'm going to murder you and use you to make my pies!" Nellie yelled. Johanna looked up curiously at the raging lunatic who had jumped up and began waving her arms about. Lucy glared at Nellie.
"Eleanor, that's a disgusting thought. Cannibalism will not be tolerated in my house," Lucy said darkly. Nellie rolled her eyes.
"You don't honestly think I was being serious. What kind of a person eats pies made outta people, anyway?" Nellie asked.
"Even if you were joking, I don't want that kind of talk around Johanna. It's not funny, and highly inappropriate," Lucy said, returning to her mending. Nellie stood there in disbelief, then stomped out of the room. "Where are you going?"
"I'm grabbing some of my bestest ale, and believe me, I need it," Nellie grumbled.
"Best," Lucy said with something of a crack of a smile popping out before Nellie slammed the door shut and stomped all the way down the stairs and cursing.
The end.
Any good Fanfiction author has at one point in their life played the role of Lucy Barker; Grammar Nazi at least once in their life. Still, you've got to adore Mrs. Lovett. Hope you enjoyed, and please leave a review!
Best Wishes,
Aktress.