Disclaimer: If I owned Sweeney Todd, why would I be writing Sweeney Todd fanfiction? That's just redundant.
A/N: Forgive how short this is, I have a lot of homework XD. But I already know what's happening in Chapter Two, so I'm thinking it'll be up soon. Please R&R
"Come now, Lucy, don't fret so. It'll be alright, you'll see. You've got me, and you've got Albert, if he's worth anything, don't you?" Nellie crooned to the sobbing woman. "Ben wouldn't want you to fret so, now, would he? I'll set up shop down there, a nice pie shop. Albie, he won't be much trouble. And we'll both be here if you need us, hear? So it'll be alright." Lucy attempted for a moment to pull herself together, trying desperately to be stronger than she had ever been. Benjamin had been her life, and without him, what was she to do? How was she to live, how could she feed her young daughter, Johanna? Nellie Lovett's words fell on deaf ears. Lucy heard only the cries of her husband, only the wails of her daughter. Nellie frowned, unsure of how to comfort her, when in so much pain herself. And Nellie couldn't sob, couldn't shed a tear for a man who wasn't her husband, a man married to another woman. And even in her comforting words, Mrs. Lovett could not pity Mrs. Barker.
This Mrs. Barker, how dare she? She comes waltzing in with her beautiful yellow hair, and her pretty little face, the silly little thing. Marries the most beautiful barber in all of London, steals him right out from under Mrs. Lovett's nose, long before she was Mrs. Lovett. Has herself a charming, beautiful yellow-haired baby girl with that barber, and she never appreciated him, not once, for his artistry. Silly though she was, she had to see that much, didn't she? And now that he was gone for good, she couldn't make things easier for herself, and better for her baby girl, for his baby girl? If she married the horrible Judge, wouldn't it be wonderful? She'd have a nice house, and money, and a way to feed the pretty baby. But no, she sat up here, all alone, distraught. And for what? He wasn't coming back, he was sent away for life. Mrs. Lovett was just as saddened as she was when Mr. Barker married her. Nellie couldn't even have a baby with such a fat, disease riddled husband, let alone a baby to remember Ben by. But did she just give up, grow up as an old maid with no way to make a living? Certainly not. Silly Lucy, always having all the luck, and too stupid to see it right before her own eyes. Did she really deserve any pity? Nellie Lovett didn't think so.
Nellie gave Lucy a quick, dissociative hug, sighed sadly, and walked slowly down the dismal staircase to her new pie-shop, leaving Lucy to stare forlornly out the rainy window, cradling her baby girl in her arms. Once downstairs, she sighed and gave the sky an exhausted, grieved look. It was the only place she could ever show her loss, her hurt. Still, she couldn't stall much longer or she'd get far too wet, so she went inside. There, Albert was sitting. Of course he hadn't done any unpacking, he was far too tired from his gout. No, he sat down and waited for Mrs. Lovett to come trotting down the steps to do all the work, just as per usual. Never did a thing, never lifted a finger, not once. Still, he was sweet, and she did pity him. He, at least, had some excuse for his actions. He was always kind to her, and she was fond of him, if not in the way she was fond of Benjamin Barker. Still, it was frustrating to be married to such a useless man.
"So, my pet," he started, corpulent neck shuddering as he spoke, "are you going to just stand there in the doorway? I'm sure Mrs. Barker can manage. I, however, cannot. Go on, Nellie, sweet. Finish up your shop." He chuckled, causing his bulbous form to jiggle, and Nellie's features twisted in near repulsion. She turned quickly to hide it, and fixed her face to perfect composure before walking over to the counter and finishing her dream shop, her pie shop. Looney Mooney didn't stand a chance against her this time, wouldn't even have one single customer now that Nellie Lovett was selling her pies. If only she could find a reliable source for meat…
"Albert, love, where did you say you could find some good meat? You did say you could find me some good meat for my pie shop, didn't you love? When is that coming? We open up shop tomorrow, I need to start making some pies for the rush at lunch tomorrow," she said sweetly, feigning a lack of conviction. She needed that meat, but she'd never let her husband have the satisfaction of knowing it. His blubbery face lifted into a wide smile, a devious smile while she rolled out dough, the swift, jerking motions revealing her inner battle for composure. As much as she was fond of her husband, he liked to play games when it came to what she wanted. She needed that good meat. Mrs. Mooney couldn't beat her again. Never again.
"Now, now, let's be patient my pet. You'll get your meat, you'll see. Now why don't you stop setting up now and make me something to eat, won't you? I'm hungry, my pet. Make me something nice," he said, smile growing wider with every word. Nellie sighed again, quite sure she was never getting any quality meat. Quite sure Mrs. Mooney's pie shop would have far more customers than hers. Still, she stopped rolling out dough, looked at the unpacked boxes across the room, and finally went over to the kitchen to start making him some soup. Perhaps she'd bring some up to Lucy. She had a heart, after all. Didn't want the silly thing to starve, now, did she? And Nellie knew Lucy wouldn't dream of eating in such a state. But really, how would the baby get any nutrition that way? She had to think of the pretty little girl. He loved that baby, Johanna. And really, taking care of his baby would be just what he wanted Nellie to do, right?
"How much soup do you want, Albie?" she called, boiling the water and dropping in some vegetables she'd cut. He gave a mere grunt in reply, and, sighing, Mrs. Lovett knew to make a very large amount of soup. She wondered idly why she still asked him such a question. He always wanted more than there was, no matter how much she made. She wondered then how he hadn't eaten himself to bloatation yet.
When the soup was done, she brought Albert a pot of it to eat out of, and carried a bowl up the steps and into the upstairs living quarters where Lucy still sat, silently crying and staring out the window. Nellie bustled over to her with the soup and put it down on the table, touching Lucy's shoulder gently. "There you go love, some soup to keep your strength up. Oh, my, is he out there in the pouring rain? Look at those flowers, ain't they lovely on a day like today? Pretty little daisies," she said, seeing the young judge on the street staring up at the window, as he did every day, holding a bunch of daisies. Lucy gave no reply, but obediently ate the soup after she put the child in her crib. As she was about to leave, Nellie heard Lucy mutter something under her breath that she didn't quite catch. "What was that love?" she asked politely.
"Thank you, Nellie. You've always been so kind to me, I said," she answered miserably. "What do you think I should do about Judge Turpin?" she added, once again not allowing Mrs. Lovett out the door.
"He's just trying to make amends, love. He figured it'd be nice, see? He's just bringing you some pretty little daisies. D'you want me to let him in?" Hope bristled in her chest. She wanted the women out of this home. Perhaps, just perhaps, if Mr. Barker did somehow return….and Lucy were married to that there judge. Nellie knew she shouldn't hope for such things, but she was a selfish creature, and a smart one at that.
Her hopes were dashed with Lucy's short, stoic reply of no, and with that Mrs. Lovett crept down the stairs, now wetter than ever, her temper testy.
"Now, Mrs. Mooney, we mustn't bother Mrs. Barker so, she is ever so distraught, the poor thing. She is in no state to be having visitors, so please, Mrs. Mooney, that's enough for today, off with you," Mrs. Lovett dismissed her impatiently, wanting nothing more than for the unpleasant woman to be gone from her home and pie shop. She knew Mrs. Mooney was only there to see how the shop looked, how it was doing, and since her husband had failed to get her nice meat, Mrs. Lovett's pie shop was not doing well on its third week of business. She had barely any customers, and the place was rank with the smell of low quality, half rotting meat that she'd been forced to buy at the market to put in her pies.
"I only wish to help the poor dear, she's ever so upset, don't you think, Mrs. Lovett? She could use a nice, juicy pie, don't you think, Mrs. Lovett? And how will she get any if she doesn't ever come down and walk to my shop?" Mrs. Mooney shot back with a wicked smile. Mrs. Lovett's returning smile was sickeningly sweet as she put a few of her pies into the oven, then came back to the counter to absent-mindedly stroke her cat, Louise.
"Let's not make a fuss now, Mrs. Mooney. Louise has no problem with my pies, see? So why don't you just go back to your little shop. Mrs. Barker is quite upset, which is more reason to let her alone. I try to make her come down, Mrs. Mooney, but she's not quite ready for visitors or the like. So thank you for your concern, Mrs. Mooney, but we won't be needing you here. When she feels better, Mrs. Barker and I will come down to your shop for a nice chat. Goodbye, Mrs. Mooney," and with that, turned her back on the other woman and continued with her pie making. Louise jumped off the counter and ran into the other room, where Albert was sleeping. With a huff, Mrs. Mooney left the shop and walked briskly down the street to her own establishment. Nellie sat down with her own huff, rumpling her dress and grabbing a glass of the gin she kept for such occasions as this.
Just then, another man came clamboring into her shop. The Beadle! "Good heavens, sir, sit, please sir sit, would you care for a pie?" She busily began running about the room, grabbing the ale, and her pies. What a delight, to have the Beadle Bamford in her pie shop. The news would certainly draw in more customers, and then old Albie wouldn't force her to close down the-
"Please, Madam, good day to you, but I did not come in for a pie," he drawled, his cane rapping against the table. She froze, anger bubbling up to her chest. Lucy, she thought. "I wish to speak to a Mrs. Barker, who I believe lives in the residences upstairs? Would you mind taking me there?"
"Mrs. Barker, ah, yes, you see, she's not really in a sort of state to be taking visi-" Just then, she cut off, coming to a realization. She smiled slowly, turning a bit, looking at the Beadle with newfound curiosity and happiness. "You wouldn't happen to be here on behalf of the great Judge Turpin, now would you?"
"As a matter of fact, Madam, I am. Now as you were saying? Judge Turpin and I know quite well what state she's in, and he wishes to beg her humble forgiveness, Madam."
"Of course, of course, anything for a law-enforcer like yourself, kind Beadle Bamford. I'm sure she wouldn't object to such well known and respected visitors. It's just up there, let me show you," she finished, turning on her heels in excitement. This was it for Mrs. Benjamin Barker.
A/N: I actually like how this is turning out. Please review, reviews make me feel all fluffy and happy inside and make me want to get new chapters out and new stories and stuff because if I feel like people take the time to review then I might as well not keep them waiting
In short, yay chapter one, please REVIEW.