Two more contrasting couples couldn't be found anywhere.
Benjamin Barker lay in bed, his wife Lucy tucked up in his arms, listening as Mr and Mrs Lovett argued downstairs. His wife slept on throughout all of this commotion, even as the couple raised their voices louder, but Benjamin could not sleep. He felt too sorry for his poor landlady. She was a lovely woman, though he had to admit that she could be a little annoying when she rabbited on for ages about seemingly nothing at all, and her fondness for gossip did force some to keep her at arms length, but she was harmless really. She deserved better than that great lumpy husband of hers, anyway.
From what Benjamin could gather so far, Mr Lovett was complaining about the way his wife treated her male customers. "You're nothing but a tart, woman!" He yelled, "Walking around in those absurdly tight dresses, flaunting yourself to every bugger who pays a visit! Don't tell me they come in for the pies."
Mrs Lovett had gone quiet by this point, and when Benjamin strained his ears he was sure he could hear her sobs coming from the parlour. Everything went quiet for a while, and just as Benjamin was drifting off, his face buried in Lucy's sweet yellow hair, the voices started up again.
Then the sound of a fist against fragile flesh rang up the stairs, echoing around the whole house. Screams now. More sobbing.
Benjamin had to force himself not to jump out of bed. He knew that Mr Lovett often hit his wife, he wasn't exactly discreet about it. It was more than Benjamin could bear to hear Mrs Lovett in pain.
He wasn't sure why, exactly. After all they had only known each other a few months. Benjamin sighed to himself, praying that the poor woman would some day, some how, escape.
He pulled Lucy closer to him and kissed her cheek as the house fell silent again and sleep finally washed over him like a tide.