A/N: Fanfiction isn't letting me edit my chapters…sorry for any mess; I'll do what I can. But here's the beginning of the story, mmmmm yesh! You'll like it soon enough loves!
Hazel walked through the dark alleyway of a London street she did now know, drenched, socked in rain as it poured down viciously on her. She walked with a quick pace, crossed her arms on her chest, breathed heavily. She had to seek shelter somewhere.
For the first time in a while, Hazel was afraid. She had never been in London before and it was a big place. Suppose some bugger tried to kill her? But it was only midday and despite the terrible weather, the sun was shining. No one was about in such a mess as this…
"I'll look for an inn." She thought. But she had no money; she had nothing but the tattered dress covering her, shielding her, not very well.
She blindly ran out of the alley and across the street, having to make a rash decision as where to go, or else get drowned like a dumb turkey.
Squinting her eyes, she scanned the area, dark and deserted looking. Suddenly a little shop caught her eye. A pie emporium, it was, read "Mrs. Lovett's Pie Shop". It looked well kept, at least more than any other building around here, with the battered windows and dusty doorways.
So she ran to the shelter of the shop, and without thinking to knock (it was a shop, right?) burst through the door, gasping like a fish out of water. She wiped the rain from her eyes and shivered violently, freezing and hugging her arms around her. She looked up at the sound of a voice in a rather high feminine pitch:
"My my at wha' the cats dragged in! Ya poor poor thing!"
It was a dark haired woman, standing behind a counter, kneading dough.
She walked briskly over to Hazel, guiding her to the booth beside the window.
"Sit now love, bless my eyes, you're a' soaked to the bone you are. Never seen such a sight as you!" She eyed her , tisking away.
She went into another room and brought back a large brown men's coat.
"My Albert's" she said, wrapping it around her. Was that her husband?
"Nice cupa' tea is what you need deary" said the woman, who Hazel now presumed was Mrs. Lovett, and she poured tea into a steaming cup and set it down in front of her. She looked at it for a second…and reluctantly drank it.
"My my, what brings a girl such as you out in this kinda' weather alone?" she said, hands on her hips, as she watched the girl sip the tea.
"And what of' that 'air!" she proclaimed, looking at the chopped off locks of Hazel's remaining dark hair, platted against her head, wet.
She looked up at her. Oh no, she thought. This means I have to talk, have to explain myself. Hazel was not good with talking to people, not good at all. She often found herself finding no words or physically unable to respond. Her nerves pulsed in her brain. She shivered still under the burly coat. What had she gotten into…what would happen to her? She didn't like to talk, but…she had to do something.
She cleared her throat. Summoning something inside of her…
"Uhm.." she began in a small, almost whispery voice. "My name is Hazel Haven, Miss, and well, I came here from Finsbury because my family was going to Australia…and well, uhm, I stayed here because they had no room for me. And my hair…I had to cut it so my father could sell it for a few pounds."
She lied, of course. She ran away when her father said they were going to Australia on the bloody old ship. She did not understand why they had to leave, and she refused, silently of course. "We haven't the money to stay here any longer love." He had said sadly and shortly. She said nothing, but that night flew out of the house and ran until day break. They were probably on the last ship right now…
Mrs. Lovett stared pitifully down at the soaking wet girl and pouted.
"Bless you ya poor thing…" she stroked her wet head. "An now you've nowhere ta go? Lost in the streets, a girl wif no family…'swat the worlds come to it has, bloody immigrants comin' around takin' families away in ships…I'm sorry deary."
Hazel stared down uncomfortably at her tea cup and swallowed. The woman was nice, and pretty too. She seemed safe, like a mother, and she did not like having to lie to her.
There was silence.
"Let's get you nice and dry eh?" Mrs. Lovett chimed suddenly, and helped her out of the booth. Hazel hugged the coat near her as she led her to the other room, which held a huge old wardrobe.
"Luckily for you I 'ave a dress about your size" she mumbled, filing through the lace and cloth. Hazel stood behind her feeling dumb and apprehensive. "Okay, so I can just stay with her as long as she let's me," she thought. "Just me and this nice Mrs. Lovett. All I have to do is ask…"
"Here we are love." She interrupted her thoughts, and held out a light pink dress with white lace trim. "From me old days," giggled Mrs. Lovett. "not likely I can squeeze into it now, so it's yours ta' keep! Go ahead, put it on."
Hazel managed to strip out of her clinging tattered garments and put on the dress, accepting it. It was the fanciest thing she had ever had, being in a poor family, and she felt awkward and vulnerable in it. But smoothed her palms on her sides and managed a small smile.
"Thank you mum" she said in her tiny voice.
Mrs. Lovett disregarded the wet garments on the chair beside the fire. She looked at Hazel, with a bit of surprise in her eyes.
"My my," breathed Mrs. Lovett, surveying her up and down. "Well you look quite nice for a girl with short 'air, that dress brightens that smooth skin of yours."
Hazel stood beside Mrs. Lovett and stared into the looking glass. She did not recognize the girl in the reflection. Her skin glowed around the pale pink of the dress indeed, and her dark hair matted against the sides of her face formed the shape of her profile. Her eyes burned a greenish yellow, she realized. She even had a blush on her cheeks, color for once! She looked…nice. Pretty,even.
"Mrs. Lovett," she began, mustering up her courage. "I have no where to go. I'm only 17 and I 'ave no money, no food…can I uhm…please maybe if-if I could, stay here with you? And help you bake, and clean the shop and do errands or laundry or 'somfin. I, uhm, I can work…p-please mum."
She managed to look her in the eye, hopeful. Mrs. Lovett sighed. "Ah…well…I can't in my good nature throw out a poor thing such as ya' self love, with those big eyes of yours." she said. "'An I could use the help around the bake 'ouse and such, if ya willing to work."
Hazel, with relief, smiled and said "Yes mum."
Mrs. Lovett smiled. "Off to the kitchen then for me ta' show you around."
She followed her out of the room, looking down all the way.
She heard Mrs. Lovett say a cheery greeting to someone, and without knowing it, bumped into the chest of a man in a dark leather vest. She gasped and held her hands there for a moment, scared stiff.
She looked up to see the eyes of a man like no other. Dark and foreboding; pale and brooding, with anger and confusion, and yet a glint of…what? His hair was dark and a strip of grey showed the long fatigue of a weary soul. She stared back wide eyed and speechless. A man. A monster.
"Ah!" smiled Mrs. Lovett from the kitchen.
"I see you've met our lovely neighbor and barber, Mr. T!"
A/N: that's it for tonight! This took me a while to write…tell me what you think so far. Including a lot of Sweeney in the next chapter, oooh And I like Hazel because she has that natural beauty, and the liberal beauty too, without the long hair and the fancy petticoat shit. Reviews please! xx