Done It All Before
It was a habit of hers to wake before the sun. Just five months ago it had been necessary because she had a home to run, a husband to cook for and a shop, to set into business each and every morning. It was a hectic schedule that she had been running ever since her marriage five years ago. It wasn't all bad, she was flighty by nature and never could quite stay still and the sense of purpose her days gave her helped to forget some of the restlessness that overcame her from time to time. It was also worth mentioning that every morning her handsome tenant who lived upstairs with his wife came stumbling down the stairs in the hallway for a cup of coffee just between the parlor and the pie shop, obviously hastily dressed his hair loose and not yet styled, still sleep tousled.
He would always apologize to her for having to see him "Not properly dressed for company" and she would simply laugh at him, for she was hardly a proper lady and no one ever bothered with the strict rules of polite society with her. Still she couldn't help but feel pleased that he treated her with all the sensitivity and respect as a woman of that class. That was one of the reasons she was so fond of him.
"Mr. Barker, every mornin' you come down 'ere apologizing for looking the way any would fresh out of bed. You don't 'ave to apologize to me, I think you look very charming this way." He would shake his head at her brazenness, smiling in a way that implied he was just as fond of her as she was of him and wrap his hand around the cup of coffee, sweetened just enough with sugar to be bearable and raise one curious brow at her. "Still, I must apologize."
"Oh save it Mr. B. I 'ave more important things ta be doing then listening to your polite foolishness early in the mornin'." She would huff and pretend to be annoyed with him and go about her task of preparing breakfast and making a show of ignoring him. He would watch her curiously and she would get just the tiniest bit irritated with how he seemed too fascinated by an everyday little task like cooking.
Of course, men never really did tasks like cooking since it was domestic work and he had a wife, pretty lil' thing just upstairs there. Eventually, tiring of his staring she would turn to him with spoonfuls of food to taste and tell her if it was alright or some days he would just talk, overlooking the fact that she was quietly ignoring him until he said something that would catch her attention and she would be sucked right back into their conversation. She never could put up her little acts for long with him.
She enjoyed those early morning moments before they were separated for the day, when it was just the two of them talking and laughing and engaging and light-hearted bickering while his wife and her Albert both slumbered in their respective beds. Now she was a widow, Mr. Barker was gone and Nellie Lovett had a young child, a baby really to look after that wasn't even her own and a grief-stricken Mrs. Barker to deal with. She still had the pie shop, but with Albert not around to run his butchering business and thus supply her with free meat the quality of her pies had gone down. And so had the quantity of customers.
Mrs. Lovett woke early as usual and stirred from where she was curled under the thick layer of blankets she had pulled tight over herself. Now that it was fall, mornings in London saw a thick fog that blotted out the sun and encased everything and everyone in a gray chill. The cold had a way of seeping through the walls at night.
"Goin' to make your breakfast dear" Mrs. Lovett slurred, sleepily turning and reaching out to her husband's side of the bed. Oh. Nellie's eyes slowly opened as her hand touched not the great warm mass that had been Albert but the cool linen sheets instead. She was disheartened as she remembered the reality of her life now and for a moment she considered simply lying in bed until she felt like getting up.
But of course, ever practical as she was Mrs. Lovett just couldn't waste an entire day that she could be using to serve the dozen or so customers she was likely to get before the sun went down. She needed all the money she could get at this point. And then there was-
Nellie looked up sharply towards the ceiling overhead and swore under her breath, laboriously scrambling out of bed, tugging down the sleeves of her long nightgown and shuffling out of her bedroom, through the parlor and up the stairs that led to the Bakers residence. She felt more than a stab of sadness at seeing that Mr. Barker was not in the kitchen, sitting on his stool at the counter top and waiting patiently on her and his coffee. Of course 'e's not. Poor souls 'alfway cross the world by now I wouldn't wonder.
The shrill cries that had drove her out of bed were even louder as she reached to top of the stairs and Mrs. Lovett cursed once again before pushing open the door to the apartment. At once the stale, unclean air rushed over her and she wrinkled her nose in distaste as she glanced around the once perfectly tidy living space. The floor was in desperate need of a sweeping and was littered with soiled clothes, carelessly tossed aside books and other nicks and nacks and the occasional biscuit.
Unwashed tea cups and plates sat on the tables. On the dining table in the back of the room several bouquets of once colorful flowers were silently wilting away. Over by the window Lucy Barker sat, prim as always with her hands folded neatly in her lap. Her posture was slumped though and her fingers twirled listlessly together. The woman stared out of the window blankly while Johanna stood in her crib, grasping the railing to hold her up and screaming so loudly that she would break into coughing at the end of each cry.
"How can you just sit there Lucy Barker like you don't 'ear this child crying 'erself blue?" Mrs. Lovett scolded, crossing the room and taking Johanna out of her crib holding the curly-haired girl close to her chest, bouncing gently and rubbing her back to try and calm her down. Johanna's skin was damp against her own and she continued to cry, although not as intensely as before.
Lucy didn't move, didn't flinch, didn't even glance out of the corner of her eye to see the state of her daughter. She just kept gazing out of the blasted window as if she saw the figure of God himself in it. Mrs. Lovett sighed, softening as she glanced around the state of the room once again. "That's alright dearie. 'Ow about later on you and I will clean this place up top to bottom to give it a nice, homey feel again. Would that help?"
"Johanna never cried like that with Benjamin. She never cried when he was watching her at all, in fact she would laugh all the time. I used to be envious of how good he was with her because I felt he made a better mother than I did. Isn't that silly?" Lucy finally broke her stare with the window and looked up at Mrs. Lovett, who was frowning as she saw that Lucy's eyes were wet and red, pooling over with tears. Had she sat there and cried all not long? Mrs. Lovett bit her tongue to hold herself back from saying that that was because Mr. Barker was a good father who doted on his daughter more than he did his wife and would never do such a foolish thing as let his baby scream herself hoarse while he ignored her needs and sat away in some corner. She knew Lucy was not actually looking for an answer, especially not that one.
"I know that if Mr. Barker could see you right now he'd be heartbroken." Mrs. Lovett began, keeping the heat out of her voice "He would want you to be strong for 'im and for Johanna and be a brilliant mother for 'er to make up him not being here while you wait for him. Mr. B wouldn't want things to be like this." Nellie waved a hand across the room to demonstrate her point. Johanna had quieted, her arms wrapped around Mrs. Lovett's neck and cheek resting on her shoulder. The little girl, barely even a year old yet stared at her mother with large eyes whimpering a little every now and then. "Ssh, darling. Hush." Nellie soothed.
Lucy turned her face away from Mrs. Lovett once again. She was trembling and the bitterness and despair in her voice the next time she spoke was shocking. "What's there to wait on, Mrs. Lovett? Benjamin is dead." Here her voice faltered and she raised an unsteady hand to brush her cheek and spoke again, hushed. "I know it. I heard that the journey at sea to that place where they're shipping him out is just as wretched as the prison itself. My Benny would never survive on that ship."
She couldn't believe what she was hearing. Mr. Barker hadn't even been gone for a year yet and here was his wife already losing herself to despair and declaring him dead. "Benjamin is alive." Mrs. Lovett heard herself whisper hoarsely, nearly stunned silent.
"They say that the most hardened criminals fall to illness or starvation, Mrs. Lovett. That or they kill themselves before they even arrive. What hope is there for Benjamin? If he does make it he'll be so changed-"
"If that's all the faith you've got for 'im then I guess there's no 'ope!" Mrs. Lovett spat her voice far louder than it should have been. "I'd 'ate it for Benjamin if 'is life depended on your 'ope because for all it's worth the man would 'ave been dead before 'is ship even left port!" Lucy was struck silent her eyes widened in astonishment.
Johanna was squirming in her arms, whining louder now and Mrs. Lovett found herself unable to bear the stifled, stinking air of the room anymore or the stupidly wretched look in Lucy's eyes anymore. Benjamin Barker's golden, virtuous little wife who was, for all of her proclaimed love unable to find enough belief to even see that her husband was still alive.
Nellie stormed towards the door but just as she reached the threshold she turned back to face Lucy. "Benjamin Barker is alive. Would you like to know 'ow he'll survive being on that bloody ship? Because he's got himself a wife and a child at home, who I know he loves more than anything or anyone else in the world."
" Mr. Barker will make it past whatever they put 'im through because you an' Johanna are his life. He's living for you, for the day he'll be able to come back 'ere to you. To his heart. And all 'e asked was that you believe in what 'e promised you."