A.N. Hey...this is a roleplay written between Spontaniously Insane and Twisted Ingenue. It's not stupendous but it was fun to write. I promise strong Sweenett...M-rated starting at Chapter eight...and TobyOC. It's good...read it. Happy birthday.
Also, you can blame Ingenue for the TobyOC. XD – Spontaniously Insane
The Widest Spectrum
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Chapter I: Bethany
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Tobias tried to whistle a cheerful song called "Give the Turtle Toffee", though the tune came out shuddery and odd. The air was far too frigid to permit whistling at present. No. The weather was miserable and freezing on the gloomy, gray street of London, Fleet Street. It was snowing, but it wasn't a gentle, sweet, pure white snow, it was more like silvery droplets of ice plummeting from the sky, making the atmosphere even more miserable than it already was.
Toby blew hot breath into his gloved hands. The gloves were a little worn and crudely made, but Mrs. Lovett had kindly knitted them for him and there was no need for him to complain. Before he met her, he never had gloves.
Anyhow, the boy quickened his pace. He wanted to get back home. As he carried the sack of flour in one arm, he thought longingly of the prospect of a warm meat pie and some hot tea from Mrs. Lovett.
Unfortunately, he was looking down at his feet, not watching where he was going. Young lads tended to do that. So, naturally, that lead to trouble and sure enough he ran into someone, causing him to fall backwards on the slushy, cold, cobblestone street, his rear hitting the pavement hard.
The young girl Toby ran into wasn't lucky either. The impact sent her into the curb and into a pile of slush. Though, from her previous state, she really wasn't much wetter than before. The little girl had been running around for hours in the cold, and by that point it was a miracle if she even knew where she was.
Just as she was about to pull herself from the snow bank a carriage raced by, spraying her with the wet slush on the cobblestones. The already too large excuse for a shirt and jacket she was wearing began to look more like a puddle of liquid fabric than clothing and it didn't help matters. Somehow, she managed to get both her shoes back on her stockinged feet and secure her headband on her head. It was a start, at least.
"I'm so sorry 'bout that!" Tobias leapt up, thanking sweet Jesus for not letting the bag of flour spill everywhere. He knew Mrs. Lovett wouldn't yell at him or beat him, but he would hate to inconvenience her in any way. "I wosn't lookin where I was goin'...a right bad 'abit! Mum always told me that it wos bad."
"'is alright sir. M-My fault..." The little girl tired her hardest to wring out her sleeves, and failed quite well at it, too. "I-I need ta be more careful."
"Sir?" Toby laughed, raising his eyebrows. "Ya' need'nt call me "sir" cos' if I ain't mistaken, I'm prob'ly 'bout your age...and 'bout the same..." Toby paused for a minute, trying to remember the word. "...social class." Toby took notice of her dress. "You're soakin' wet! You're gonna freeze if ya don't get 'ome soon."
After a second, the girl stood, hugging her jacket around her shoulders like it might actually do some good at keeping her warm. Her skirt hung low on her hips from the weight of the water it had soaked up, and you could almost see the pale skin of her stomach and the pink skin on her back. "Home..." She muttered, looking down the street Toby came from and then back up the street from where she came. "I don't think I wanna go home... N-Not my home..." She said. Another carriage, hurriedly going past, sprayed cold slush on both children, succeeding in undoing what little the girl had done to dry herself out.
"Shit!" Toby cursed, feeling the chill sink into his clothing. He then blushed when he realized what slipped out in front of a girl. "Um...I'm sorry 'bout that. Mum told me not to say them kinds of things in front o' ladies...but I 'eard Mr. Todd sayin' it... and..." Toby knew he had no good argument, so he just looked at the girl. He glanced into her blackish-brown eyes and saw deep traces of sadness, misery, and fear in their depths. He had been faced with those very same eyes at one time... when he looked in a mirror.
"Are you...?" Toby gulped, feeling the chilly air. He let out a shuddering breath which turned to a white, smoky haze in the air. "You don't 'ave nowhere to go?"
"I..." The girl paused as a chill wind whipped past them. "No. I don't 'ave anywhere left to go to, I 'spose..." Her eyes kept glancing back behind her, like she was looking for something. "I... I mean... I have... had a h-home... Once... I don't want to go b-back there, though, so it's not really a home, is it?" She turned to Toby and smiled. She was rather cute when she smiled.
"No..." Toby sighed, understanding. "I 'spose not." Toby looked into her eyes again, forcing himself to. Though he didn't like to see anything that reminded him of the horrid life he used to have, he knew he had to brave it out sometimes. He wished he could just focus on her smile. "Is it...?" he took a deep breath. "Is it really that bad?"
"Well..." The girl took a step inward, close the gap between the two. "I was paid a penny a week. But it was only if I didn't make him mad, which wasn't an easy task. He had this awful cane that had a leather strap on the end. He'd try and find reasons to hit me... I'm
glad I ran away, I just wish I'd thought it through a bit more." She shivered, holding her jacket close. If you looked, you could see the stark red and pink lines spanning the pale skin on her shoulders.
Toby felt strong pity and understanding begin to nag at his heart and stomach. Mostly his stomach. Pity always upsets the stomach.
He looked at the nasty welts on her shoulders and unintentionally began fingering a scar on the back of his hand that he had received from his previous master. An ostentatious git by the name of Señor Pirelli.
"I'm...real sorry," Toby mumbled a little, kind of afraid to talk. "I...kind of figured ya might've 'ad somethin' goin' on wit' you." Toby smiled shyly and held out his hand. "Sorry for not introducin' meself. I 'ave dreadful manners sometimes. I'm Tobias...but you can call me Toby. I prefer it, act'lly,"
"I'm Bethany. Actually, it's Beth but I didn't like it very much." the girl said, smiling again. She reached out for his hand, hesitating for a fraction of a second. Her thin white hands were covered in pink and red skin all over. Flushing, Bethany pulled back her hand, burying the injuries under her jacket. Her mind whirled with thoughts about this sweet little boy who'd found her... Bethany wiped at the bags under her eyes, trying to clear her mind some.
Toby tried to keep a confident smile on, though he was feeling anything but. "Beth'ny...it's nice to meet you." He really hoped that the manners Mrs. Lovett taught him were showing a little. For some reason, he had a desire to impress this miserable looking girl. Maybe she'd think he was a gentlemen. Now...what if he kissed her hand or something? No. That would be getting a little on the pretentious side.
"N-Nice to meet you too." Bethany smiled. "I best be goin'..." She said, giving Toby a small nod and turning around. Here, she stopped. If only she knew where she could actually go. She pulled the three pennies she had out of her pocket and stared at them like they might tell her what to do. Nothing. Blast her money. 'Oooo... Stupid rich man's money...Cursed... stupid crappy money done me no good...' She thought. "Don't need his stupid cursed rich man money..." She said, not realizing she had said that out loud. She threw the three little coins across the street where the beggar woman picked them up. Then she stood there, pouting, arms crossed. 'Well, Beth, there went your savings and your dinner. Good job.'
Toby raised his eyebrows as he pondered something. His head was screaming that it was a bad idea, but his pity-filled gut was telling him otherwise.
"Er...Beth'ny?" Toby moved up to tap her on the shoulder. "Excuse me...I know we jos met an' all...but...would ya like to come over to me mum's shop for a lil' while. It's warm there...an' I'm sure Mrs. Lovett'll let you 'ave somethin' to eat. She's a good lady."
Bethany tried not to look too startled at the tap on her shoulder. At the offer, she flushed and quickly checked behind her to make sure the boy was talking to her. "You'd let me c-come with you?" She asked, barely able to speak because of the cold. "I'd... I'd love to. T-Thank y-you."
Toby smiled, relieved, but crossed his fingers behind his back, hoping that Mrs. Lovett would be alright with it. She was so kind, but sometimes...if Mr. Todd were there, of course, she might be a little on edge and wouldn't allow things.
"I've got the flour," Toby thought to himself optimistically, looking at the bag of flour. "Hopefully Mr. Todd won't be there and she'll be in nice mood."
Toby lightly took Bethany's cold hand. "Come on, then. It's only up the street." He began leading the girl down the cobblestone street, holding her hand tighter in his gloved one, hoping to spread a little warmth to it.
"Thank you again, Toby." Bethany said, smile returning to her place. The promise of a warm building brightened her spirits. She didn't expect them to let her stay, oh no, but being able to go inside for a moment made her day all the more better.
"No prob'm a 'tall," Toby replied, making his way to the door of Mrs. Lovett's pie shop with Bethany in tow.
Mrs. Lovett was at the counter, adding herbs to a little meat she was about to add in a pie. No...not that kind of meat. It was actually a little veal she'd been able to buy with her earnings. She was using veal for one reason...because this particular pie would be for Mr. Todd. Yes...and she knew he liked a little dried rosemary in his pies. No, he didn't say that directly, but every time she made him a pie with rosemary, he always complimented it more. And that's exactly what she wanted. A complimentary, satisfied Mr. Todd.
But that week she had made a discovery about his tastes. A few days ago, while making him a pie, she cut her finger in the process, accidentally getting a good amount of her blood in his pie meat. She decided to give it to him with the "what he doesn't know won't hurt him" philosophy. But to her surprise, his reaction to it was a smile and telling her it was the best pie he'd ever had. So, naturally...for Mrs. Lovett, at least, she wanted him happy so she gave herself a little incision somewhere on her hand every time she made him a pie and put a little of her blood in it. Yes...it was a little queer...but what wasn't in this day and age?
As Mrs. Lovett was in the process of slicing the back of her hand (she found out that more blood came out there), Toby made his appearance.
"I'm 'ome, mum!" he announced.
Mrs. Lovett jumped and let out a surprised yelp. She put down the knife rapidly and hid her hand behind her back.
"Toby, dear...you look so cold. 'Ow bout we..." Mrs. Lovett froze for a moment when she saw Bethany come up from behind him.
"Is this your friend?" Mrs. Lovett asked him, an unreadable expression on her face.
"Yes mam'," Toby nodded, taking Bethany's hand and lightly pulling her towards Mrs. Lovett who had come out from behind the counter. "This is Beth'ny, mum. And Beth'ny, this is Mrs. Lovett."
"Good ev'nin' marm." Bethany dipped her head slightly, refusing to meet Mrs. Lovett's eyes. Instead, she fascinated herself with a run in her stocking. You could almost taste the fear coming off of her, she was so nervous.
Mrs. Lovett's face broke into a smile as she wrapped an arm around Bethany. "Oh, dearie, you look as if you've 'ad death over for dinner." Mrs. Lovett took Bethany's cold, red hands. "'Aven't you any mittens?"
"No marm." Bethany managed to say. "I coul'n't afford 'um."
"You poor thing," Mrs. Lovett cooed gently, bringing Bethany over to the little booth and sitting her down. "I'm makin' some 'ot tea. Why don't I get you a cup?" Mrs. Lovett smiled at her.
"That would be lovely, marm. Thank you." Bethany smiled back, though still a tad nervous. There was a feeling that hung about the house like death and it frightened her, if only slightly.
"Well then," Mrs. Lovett moved away from Bethany and headed over back to Mr. Todd's pie. "Once we 'ear a whistlin' noise, we'll know it's ready." Mrs. Lovett turned to Toby. "Would you like a cup too, dearie?"
"Of course, mum," Toby gave her a toothy grin which immediately turned into a frown. "Mum!"
"Wot?" Mrs. Lovett looked alarmed.
"What'd you do to yer 'and?" Toby rushed over to Mrs. Lovett and pointed out the bleeding gash on the back of her hand.
"You needn't fuss, dearie," Mrs. Lovett smiled shakily. "Jos a lil' nick I got while choppin' a bit o' meat."
"But..." Toby protested. But before he could finish, a loud whistling noise came from the parlor.
"Me tea's ready," Mrs. Lovett stepped out from behind the counter and headed towards the parlor. "One minute, dearies."
"I hate to be a bother," Bethany started, gesturing after Mrs. Lovett lightly, "but that didn't look like any nick--" She stopped when heavy footsteps echoed across the ceiling and down the stairs outside.
"Is my pie ready yet, Mrs. Lovett?" Sweeney Todd's unmistakable monotone drawl could be heard outside. The bell on the door tinged and the older man stuck his head through the door, looking toward the parlor and completely missing the girl sitting close by. "Mrs. Lovett?" he called again, a little anger in his tone. Quickly he stepped inside and was about to shout again when his eyes caught Bethany. Bethany quickly tried to act like she wasn't there.
"Sir!" Toby leapt up in front of Sweeney, despite his fear of the man. "This is my friend, Beth'ny." Toby nervously turned to Bethany. "Beth'ny...this is Mr. Todd. 'E's a barber...a smashing good man!"
Bethany tried to muster up her confidence so she would look too much like an opportunity to be taken advantage of, or worse, a snack, and she did manage to coax a halfhearted glare from Sweeney's shock and/or confused face. "Nice to meet you, sir." She said, standing and giving him a welcoming nod. After a second, Sweeney's face fell into his more natural 'ah, what the hell' face. He decided he didn't mind her staying for the moment, but if Mrs. Lovett tried to bring up the matter of this girl staying that would be another thing entirely.
"Mrs. Lovett!" Sweeney stuck his head into the parlor, searching. "We need to have a little talk about this girl your br...boy has brought in."
There was the sound of Mrs. Lovett practically squealing from surprise before she came out of the parlor looking slightly frazzled while she juggled a teapot and two mugs.
"'Ey there, Mr. T," Mrs. Lovett tried not to stammer. "'Ow's bus'ness goin?"
"Mrs. Lovett, what have I said about bringing more children into this establishment?" Sweeney half snarled, taking his own very special mug and tapping away the flour that always seems to get in everything he brought downstairs. "I let you keep the boy, but this..." he glanced over at Bethany and put his hand to his temple."You know why I hate children and yet they keep coming inside." Sweeney pulled up a vacant chair and sat down in it, hunched over slightly like a man with too much on his mind. "And is my pie ready yet?"
"Oh! Pie!" Mrs. Lovett blushed vividly, hiding her hand behind her back. "Gotta...pop it in the oven! Then...it'll...it'll be great!"
"Oh brother," Toby sighed.
"Mrs. Lovett..." Sweeney looked up at her, glaring. "She can't stay." He then directed his glare at Bethany. "Have your tea and leave. We don't provide free room and board."
Bethany suddenly had an idea. Sadly the idea might have gotten her killed if she hadn't worked with a crazy old bastard before. She stood up and brushed the settling flour from her wet dress, more confident than before. "Mr. T-Todd." She addressed him and it took most of her self control to keep from stammering. "I-I'm willing to work here if I-I can stay. I... I can bake the crusts for Mrs. Lovett's pie." She crossed the room to stand next to Sweeney, who quirked an eyebrow at her welling confidence.
"You want work, then?" Sweeney asked, sitting up. His eyes looked Bethany over and again, and they kept settling on the small scars on her shoulder and hands. "Alright. Let's talk. Alone. In the parlor." He stood quickly, and after setting down his mug, he guided her none too gently into the parlor. "We'll be back in a minute, Mrs. Lovett."
Toby clenched his fists and started heading into the parlor before Mrs. Lovett put hand on his chest to stop him.
"It'll...be alright, dearie," Mrs. Lovett assured Toby, though very unsure herself. She tousled his hair lovingly before returning to her pie, discreetly adding her blood in the meat.
"Mum," Toby sighed, sitting at the counter and pouring himself some hot tea in another mug, since Sweeney had taken his."Would you let 'er work for you?"
"Well..." Mrs. Lovett put the meat in the doughy crust before adding a flour covered top. "I always could use an extra 'and." Mrs. Lovett popped the pie into the small personal oven used only for the residents in her shop...her, Toby, and Mr. Todd.
"Yer sucha good soul, mum," Toby beamed at her. "Wish I could say the same 'bout..." Toby trailed off.
Sweeney led Bethany into the parlor and all but shoved her onto the little sofa. He quickly locked the door, pausing there for a second to think. He was not a man for love or compassion, that was for certain. But, he was not lacking in kindness. It was just his own brand of kindness...without love or compassion. Just kindness in his own little way. He turned, pocketing the key, and sat down on the chair opposite Bethany.
"Who was it that hurt you?" Sweeney tried to keep the hate from his voice. Bethany didn't answer for a second, and she didn't look at Sweeney, like she was hiding something.
"Answer me, girl." Sweeney snapped. It was like that tone broke something inside the girl, for it seemed all her confidence shattered.
"If I tell you sir, he'll kill me!" Bethany cried, though her voice was not raised very much at all. Sweeney rose and bent down over the girl, placing a rough hand on her shoulder.
"You act like I wouldn't." Sweeney snarled, officially angered. "Tell me or I might just hurt you worse than he ever did."
"I t-think he went by the n-name 'Beatle' o-or 'Beadle' o-or something. I wouldn't know, sir! We wasn't allowed to c-call him anythin' but 'sir' o-or 'milord'. P-Please don't hurt me, sir!" Bethany cried. Sweeney pulled the extra cloth off her shoulder and stared at the deep red marks on her back as though to confirm what she said. In doing this, he had to pull her up off the sofa a tad, and when he let go, she fell back to the cushions with a frightened yelp. Sweeney strode over to the parlor door like a man with a purpose, leaving the poor girl crying behind him.
"Mrs. Lovett, don't let the girl leave." he ordered, a plan forming behind his eyes.
"Oh no," Mrs. Lovett hid her bleeding hand in the folds of her flour-covered apron. "Wot's this you've got in mind?"
"She was a servant of Beadle's. If she stays here, he'll come looking for her. Here." Sweeney took a long swig from "his" mug and was surprised his tea was getting cold. He shrugged it off. Nothing could ruin this mood.
"I have work to be done, Mrs. Lovett. Bring the pie upstairs when it's ready." With that Sweeney made his exit out the stairwell, singing something to himself.
Mrs. Lovett sighed deeply. He could be such an ass sometimes. But, that's what she loved about him, I guess. She then turned around to Toby, giving him a smile. "Well, I guess she's workin' fer me now..." Mrs. Lovett got a small twinkle in her eye. "I've always wanted a lil' girl 'round, No offense, Toby, dear."
"None taken, mum," Toby bowed, grinning.
"Can't believe Mr. T's allowin' this," Mrs. Lovett remarked. Even though she knew his reasoning, she was still slightly incredulous.
"Can't either, mum," Toby agreed, giving a look into the parlor. "Looks like some''un in there needs some comfortin'."
"Call me in if ya need me, dearie," Mrs. Lovett winked at Toby before he headed into the parlor.
"B-Beth'ny?" Toby stammered. "You...alright?"
Bethany looked up from where she laid, eyes red and cheeks flushed. Quickly she sat up and wiped her eyes, sniffling. "I-Is he a-always that m-mean?" She asked, trying to keep her voice level.
Toby plopped down beside her and gently placed a hand on her shoulder before letting out a chuckle,
"You think 'es mean now?" Toby snorted. "'E was bein' right Christ-like then." Toby giggled. "'E's a downright grouch, 'e is. Mrs. Lovett and I 'ave lots o' fun teasin' 'em be'ind 'is back."
Bethany knew it was not right to smile at someone else's expense but hell, it made her feel better to smile. So she smiled. After a second, she gave Toby a hug around the neck, almost crying again. She realized how long it'd been she she'd had a good cry and it only made her want to cry more.
Toby was taken aback, but patted her lightly on the back. "I know 'ow bad it can be, Beth'ny. I 'ad a nasty master once too. 'E beat me when I wouldn't do somethin' right." Toby winced, trying to water down his story a bit. "But now your 'ere and everthin' gonna be better. Trust me. My life turned 'round ever since mum took me in. An' yours will too. I promise."
"Thank you Toby." Bethany said into the nape of Toby's neck."Thank you for everything."
"As much as I 'ate to say it...I didn't do much," Toby wrinkled up his nose. "It twas really Mr. Todd 'oo did everythin'."
Bethany looked up at Toby, letting her hands fall to her lap. "H-He didn't find me, and he isn't here right now, is he?" Bethany crossed her arms smugly, and the top of her dress nearly fell off her completely.
"We need to get ya a new dress, Beth'ny," Toby said softly, pulling up the top of her dress. "Mum can prob'ly 'elp make ya a new one."
Bethany flushed. "I-I don't n-need a new d-dress." She said softly. "I... I just need t-this to be taken up a b-bit. T-That's all." She smiled at Toby softly. "Its jus' the top t-that needs fixin'..."
"I see," Toby nodded. "I don't know much 'bout dresses, to tell ya the truth."
"M-Me neither." Bethany giggled a little bit. "This was me mum's dress once... she made it. If I knew how to sew I'da fixed it meself." Bethany suddenly realized that she was still wet. They both were. "Oooo. We're getting the sofa all wet sittin' here."
"Well, this sofa's taken a lot," Toby stood up, taking Bethany's hand and helping her up as well. "'Ow bout we get a change o' clothes then 'ave somethin' to eat? You look awful 'ungry."
"A-Alright..." Bethany said. She was very, very happy at the prospect of not only a new home and a fun job but of good food. "But... what can I wear?"
"Er..." Toby's ears turned a bright shade of pink. "...didn't think o' that." An idea finally flashed in his head. She could wear some of his trousers and..."Um...never mind...bad idea."
"Do ya think Mrs. Lovett has some old clothes I can wear?" Bethany asked.
"Could ya fit in 'em?" Toby looked skeptical. "Forgive me candor, but you're quite a skinny thing."
"I... I think I could. I can find a way, I'm sure." Bethany said, eyes growing hopeful. Oh, to be warm and dry again.
"Alright then," Toby took Bethany's hand and took her out of the parlor. Mrs. Lovett was sitting in the booth, elbows on the table, waiting for the pie to bake.
"Mum?" Toby looked to Mrs. Lovett. "Both of us got a mite wet from a bit o' slush out there. Do you 'ave anythin' Beth'ny could wear?"
Mrs. Lovett got up from the booth and strolled over to the children. "Actually, I do," Mrs. Lovett crossed her arms. "Oh, me dear Albert always got on me fer hoardin' me things...I'm a right good pack-rat." Mrs. Lovett motioned for Bethany. "Beth'ny? Why don't we go see what we can find? Toby..." she nodded at the boy. "You're gonna need to change too. Make sure ya put your wet things in the clothes basket."
"Yes, mam'," Toby nodded politely, and then disappeared down the halls, anxious to get out of his cold, wet clothes.
Bethany walked over to Mrs. Lovett, unsure of wear to go. "Thank you for the clothes." She said softly, watching Toby go with saddened eyes.
"Aw, it's nothin'," Mrs. Lovett smirked a little before sauntering down the halls into her bedroom. "Come now, dearie."
Bethany followed Mrs. Lovett into a small, slightly drab room with a queen sized bed topped with a green, shabby quilt. Mrs. Lovett strolled over to a corner in the room and knelt down in front of a gray, brass-bound trunk. She flipped open the clasps and pulled the trunk open. A loud creaking noise emitted from the hinges.
"Ere we are," Mrs., Lovett exhaled loudly. "I 'aven't 'ad a look in 'ere ever since me Albert passed on."
Bethany swatted the rising dust from her face. "There's a lot in there." She commented, looking over Mrs. Lovett's shoulder. "Is there anything that'd fit me?"
"Oh..." Mrs. Lovett began digging around in the trunk which was filled with clothes. "If I can find it, I'm sure." The woman spent a few minutes looking, pulling out dresses and fabric until she exclaimed,
"Aha! 'Ere it tis!"
Mrs. Lovett pulled out a small, lacy emerald green dress with long sleeves and a high neckline. The dress was rather pretty, but the color of it had been muted somewhat from age. The lace remained white since it had been out of the sun, yet the lace at the edge of the sleeves was frayed slightly.
"Might be a lil' long for a lass your age," Mrs. Lovett remarked, holding the dress up to Bethany. The dress was so long that it hit the floor. "But it'll do if I can 'em it."
Bethany's eyes grew wide at the sight of the dress. "It's perfect." she said. After a moment of just being in awe of the sheer kindness, Bethany's eyes turned to pick at her own, wet dress. "C-Can you fix this one too? T-the shoulders jus' need ta be taken up." Bethany asked, hope in her eyes.
"Course I can, dear!" Mrs. Lovett exclaimed loudly. "Why don'tcha slip out o' that and put this un' on now? I'll fix yer dress later when I 'ave the time."
Bethany hugged Mrs. Lovett tightly. "Thank you so much." She said happily. Quickly, she slipped her old wet dress off her shoulders and threw it on a vacant chair, hanging the middle sash lovingly on the bedpost. She pulled the green dress over her head, watching the fabric fall to just above her ankles. It wasn't quite as long as she had thought. The middle was a tad too large for her, and she snatched her almost dry sash back from the bedpost. She tied it around her waist and back into its bow behind her, admiring her handiwork in the full length mirror.
"Fits like a glove."
"Looks lovely," Mrs. Lovett remarked. "Need to do one thing, though..." Mrs. Lovett came behind Bethany and attached the little silver clasps on the back together. "There we go. 'Ow does it feel?"
"It's... it's the best present I've ever gotten. It fits so well, like it... it was made for me." Bethany smiled through happy tears. "You are too kind to me."
Mrs. Lovett chuckled a little. "Oh, I isn't a saint at 'tall. And 'ow do you 'spect me ta treat ya, dearie? You're workin' for me...I 'ave ta give ya somethin' in return."
"I'm sorry... you've just given me so much more than I-I deserve." Bethany put her arms around her middle, hugging the soft fabric to her frame.
"More than you deserve?" Mrs. Lovett raised her eyebrows and put and arm around Bethany's shoulder. She then began to understand what was doing on. "Oh, dearie, I 'ope you 'aven't 'ad a nasty ol' master like poor Toby did."
Bethany had so much she wanted to say about her old master, but she bit her tongue like always and stayed silent. Her fear of that man was far greater than her love for this new life she had been given. She knew she could say what she wanted and could get away from it, but her heart told her it was best to bear it all alone. Like always. You could see the hate and the anger in her eyes though. Like deep pools of water with no bottom, they held years of anger and hate toward her former master, such that no man should ever have toward another. "H-He wasn't that bad, marm." Bethany said, trying to smile. She was lying through her teeth but she would rather spare Mrs. Lovett of her troubles.
"Oh, that's 'ogwash," Mrs. Lovett snorted. "It'd slipped me mind that you 'ad the Beadle as yer master. A right revoltin' piece o' work that man is...if you can call 'em a man."
"He... I hate him. I have wished him the worst possible death imaginable for years. I... I really shouldn't be s-saying any of this." Bethany stopped herself short of a long awaited rant, suddenly scared. "I-If he finds out what I just said... Oooo. I might as well be dead." Bethany hugged her arms to her chest tighter, saddened eyes not bearing to look at herself any longer.
"Well even if 'e does find out, 'e ain't gonna kill ya, dear," Mrs. Lovett said firmly. "'Your never gonna be in 'is servitude ever again. Mark my words." Mrs. Lovett looked almost irate. "You 'ave every right to 'ate 'em too! I've always thought 'e wos an oily, slimy thing...but now..." Mrs. Lovett pursed her lips. "'E dos deserve to die."
Bethany continued to stare at her shoes. "No man deserves to die, Mrs. Lovett. Not even those who wish for death." Bethany paused, biting her lip. This whole conversation left her with a bad taste in her mouth. She clasped her right wrist tightly. "Once one is faced with the prospect of death, no matter how much they may have wished it, it still makes them fearful." She said, clutching at her wrist so tightly that her hand began to turn pink, than red, and then a delicate shade of maroon.
"Well, if ya die in your sleep, it don't matter much," Mrs. Lovett shrugged. "An' some folks are so old and weary that they jos wanna go up ta Jesus." Mrs. Lovett looked down at her feet, guilt bubbling in her stomach.
"They still held fear in their hearts at some point." Bethany countered, ignoring the fact that she was cutting off circulation to her hand via her grip on her wrist.
"Well..." Mrs. Lovett bit down on her lower lip so hard that a metallic taste entered her mouth. Blood. She was at a loss for words.
"You didn't directly kill them," she thought to herself. "Mr. T does it...not me."
Bethany looked up at Mrs. Lovett and it was then the pain hit her. Quickly, she released her hand, biting down on her lip to keep from saying something awful. The hand was a pretty shade of purple at that point. "Oooo..." Bethany hissed, glaring at the even deeper purple bruise she had just given herself.
"Wot' you been doin' to that poor wrist o' yours?" Mrs. Lovett took Bethany's wrist in her hand. "You commit a murder o' somethin'?"
Bethany winced, both from pain and the fact that her other secret was out. As Mrs. Lovett examined her wrist, it began to turn back to its normal color, which made thin sets of scars visible. Several little ticks, clean and clear, one just under the other, and then one long scar across her wrist, also very clean cut. Possibly made with a razor blade.
Mrs. Lovett paled. "Wot' in the...?" she couldn't finish. "Oh, darlin'...you 'aven't, 'ave you?"
"I... I didn't want to be there anymore." Bethany tried to explain. "I was younger... I heard mast-... him... talkin' 'bout this chap who did himself in... How free he must have felt..." Bethany bit her lip, drawing blood. "I didn't know what I was d-doing..." she said, playing with her headband with her free hand. Suddenly something struck her and her eyes grew fearful again. "Please... don't tell T-Toby..."
"Course I won't tell Toby!" Mrs. Lovett looked appalled at even the idea of it. "Let's jos keep this 'tween you an' me, alright?" Mrs. Lovett tenderly smoothed Bethany's short, dark hair. "But I don't wont' you to be doin' it anymore, understand?"
A voice in Mrs. Lovett's head hissed "Hypocrite!", but she brushed it aside. She wasn't cutting herself because she felt like it. She was just doing it for Mr. Todd...just for Mr. Todd. Well...it did feel rather...good sometimes...but...it just wasn't the same.
"I won't. I... I promise." Bethany wiped a new tear from her eye. Her hand, in its travels, found its way into her hair, which was growing long. She really didn't like it long. "Mrs. Lovett, I think there's a pie in the oven still...we might want to go get it before it burns."
"Oh, yes!" Mrs. Lovett jumped again and fled to the front shop with Bethany following behind her. As she reached the oven she silently prayed to herself that the pie wasn't burning.
'"Beth'ny?" Mrs. Lovett peered into the oven. The pie was golden brown and not burnt in the slightest. "Would you please 'and me that lil' oven mitt on the counter there?"
Bethany handed her the mitt obediently and then sat down in the vacant chair, looking behind her to make sure Toby wouldn't sneak up on her. Little boys tended to do that and she was already a tad bit afraid of the room. Mostly the door that Sweeney Todd always came through, but she didn't know his name so it was just 'that door'.
"Mrs. Lovett... that man that came in earlier...what was his name?" Bethany asked, leaning forward on her chair slightly.
"Wot you mean?" Mrs. Lovett slowly took the pie out of the oven and placed it on the counter to cool. "Mr. Todd?"
"Yes. That man that hired me. You call him Mr. Todd, but I never found out his full name." Bethany said, scuffing her shoes together slightly, almost afraid to ask.
"Well..." Mrs. Lovett sighed, resting her elbows on the counter, trying to be casual. "'Is name's Sweeney Todd...an'..." Mrs. Lovett flushed a light pink. "E's...not a bad fellow. A li'le...different...but...'e ain't a bad man."
"Sure he isn't," the voice in her head taunted her again.
"He didn't seem that bad..." Bethany sat in thought for a moment. "But he... he's not what he seems, I believe..." She paused, staring at a cockroach on the floor, lost in her own thoughts.
"Wont me to 'elp you make some...?" Toby sauntered in the room, but froze in place once he saw Bethany. His jaw began hanging slack.
Mrs. Lovett snickered in her hand a little, thinking about how cute puppy love was sometimes. Ah...how she wished her love life could be that simplistic and sweet.
"Miss. Beth'ny," Toby's eyes were still wide as he numbly walked over to her. "You look...like a reg'lar lady."
Bethany flushed. It was the first time she'd been truly complimented in a long time. "T-Thank you." Bethany's heart fluttered, which was an awkward emotion for her.
"D-D-Don't like..." Toby smiled lopsidedly. "...bein' dishonest 'bout things..."
Mrs. Lovett quickly tiptoed over to Toby and whispered in his ear, "Go on! Tell 'er she looks pretty!"
"Wot...?" Toby's ears turned violet.
"C'mon, lad. Ain't afraid are ya?" she teased, giving him a nudge.
"You..." Toby gulped, feeling VERY awkward. "You look...r-rather..."
"Very," Mrs. Lovett corrected in a hiss.
"Very..." Toby wished he could just evaporate into thin air. And was it his imagination or was it getting unnaturally hot in the room. "...p-pretty."
Bethany felt her face get hot all the way up to her ears. "Y-You really think so?" She asked, stifling a giggle.
"Of...c-course..." Toby stuttered. "I...t-told ya that...I don't lie."
Bethany smiled like nothing she'd ever smiled before. "Y-You look n-nice yerself." She said, playing with the collar of his shirt. "And... you're a very sweet boy for... for sayin' that." Bethany leaned over and kissed Toby on the cheek lightly, turning even redder herself as she did so.
Toby might as well have been a long, boy-shaped tomato due to the color he turned. "Um...I..." he was then incapable of coherent speech while Mrs. Lovett was practically squealing with the cuteness of it all.
"Well, lil' lovebirds," Mrs. Lovett was smirking from ear to ear as she picked up a plate, blowing the flour off of it, and placed the meat pie on it. "I'm gonna go give this to Mr. T. You don't wont 'em on an empty stomach."
Mrs. Lovett headed out of the shop and up to the metal stairs, gripping onto the railing with one hand and holding the pie with another. She was glad to get to see Mr. Todd again. Maybe he'd smile at her or thank her for the pie. Maybe.
She reached the door and hesitantly knocked on it. "Mr. T?" she called out. "I got you yer pie!"
The door opened silently and Sweeney Todd walked back over to his chair. He had had a long, long day and with that girl. He was a tired man that night. He didn't even say anything to Mrs. Lovett as she walked inside.
"Mr. T?" she tentatively walked over to him in his chair. "'Ere's...your pie." She let out a shuddering breath as if she didn't have enough air in her lungs.
Sweeney looked up at Mrs. Lovett with tired eyes and accepted the pie almost gratefully. After a second he tasted the pie, and finding it to his liking he tucked in for a well deserved dinner. "Mrs. Lovett, this is a wonderful pie." He said, licking his lips which were formed in an almost smile.
Mrs. Lovett practically fainted as her head began spinning with euphoria. The seemed to be rocking back and forth before her eyes and breathing was practically not an option as her heart raced. She could hear the pulsations banging in her ears.
"Th-Thank you..." Mrs. Lovett said airily. She knew she was going to have to collapse on her bed once she went downstairs. She was far too dizzy. "M-Made it...sp-special."
Sweeney's face fell back into a frown when he looked up again. "Mrs. Lovett, are you alright? You look faint." There was only a hint of worry in his voice when he asked this, but he felt he had to ask.
"Y-Yes..." Mrs. Lovett gave him a weak smile. "Just fine." She tried to get a grip on herself. She couldn't stay up here with him very long if she couldn't keep her head.
"So..." she began. "I... really 'ope you give that Beadle wot 'e deserves," she made a slicing motion on her throat. "'E's an 'orrible thing, 'e is."
"I plan to when he comes by." Sweeney grinned before taking another bite of his pie. He paused, curious. "What brought that up?"
"'E's not only a dirty 'lil toady 'oo does all that nasty Turpin's filthy work." Mrs. Lovett spat. "'E also beats children!"
Sweeney froze, fork to his mouth. "How would you know that, Mrs. Lovett?" He asked, voice dangerously low.
"'Ave you seen them marks on that poor girls back?" Mrs. Lovett scowled. "You know 'ow much I 'ate it when folks beat lil' boys an' girls like that. It's downright 'orrible."
"The man must have had some reason to do what he did, Mrs. Lovett." Sweeney remarked absently, still eating.
"Yer standin' up fer 'im?" Mrs. Lovett's voice was very quiet. She couldn't help but be a little disgusted, though she couldn't stop her heart from fluttering as she watched him eat.
"No. I just don't want you putting a man to shame without knowing what exactly happened." Sweeney said, gesturing with his fork.
"This...is the Beadle were talkin 'bout 'ere...remember?" Mrs. Lovett's voice was strained and high pitched. No...she couldn't get mad at him. She didn't want him angry with her.
"I'm just trying to break you of the habit, Mrs. Lovett. You did the same thing to me with that Spanish..." Sweeney made a face. "...Italian...fellow. That boy's former master...whatever his name was. You were about to ream me out for killin' him when you thought he was innocent but when I explained you were okay with it. I don't want you chasing the man away before his shave with that talk." Sweeney said, putting down his clean plate.
"'Course...I won't sir," Mrs. Lovett lowered her head as the word "pushover" echoed in her head.
"Mrs. Lovett, might I ask you, what where those scars on her wrist?" Sweeney set down his fork and looked up at Mrs. Lovett blankly.
"Scars?" Mrs. Lovett pretended to look confused. "Wot scars?"
"You know what I'm talking about." Sweeney said, half snarling.
"Oh...those scars," Mrs. Lovett bit her lip. "I'm not gonna be betrayin' her confidence, sir...if ya...don't mind." Mrs. Lovett began nervously picking at the scabbed cut on her palm that she'd given herself two days ago.
"I don't care, Mrs. Lovett. If she's going to work with us I need to know these things." Sweeney said, standing.
"N-No...you don't," Mrs. Lovett stuck out her chest and lifted up her quivering chin. "That's 'er bus'ness...and I know...so...that's all that matters."
Sweeney gripped Mrs. Lovett tightly on the shoulders. "Mrs. Lovett..." He said, warningly. 'Tell me."
Mrs. Lovett's stomach practically flipped. Yes...he was touching her...clutching her so tightly that it hurt. Sheer bliss.
"She jos..." Mrs. Lovett gulped as her senses began clouding. "You've gotta not tell anyone else, sir."
"I won't tell." Sweeney said, pressing his face close to her's. "Now tell me."
Mrs. Lovett tried not to let out a high-pitched sigh. Evil man. Knowing her weakness. "Sh-She does it...to 'erself. Ya know...cuttin' on...purpose cos ya aren't 'appy."
"Does or did?' Sweeney asked. "Important difference."
"I-I think she's stopped..." Mrs. Lovett was shivering. "I-I told 'er not to do it anymore...I...th-think she won't."
'Think? Think?" Sweeney backed off and sat back in his chair, rubbing his temples. "Think is not a reassuring word."
"Damn," Mrs. Lovett muttered to herself when he let go.
"She's going back on the streets as soon as I have Beadle in my hands." Sweeney said finally. "I'm not having her around."
"No!" Mrs. Lovett went to his side, clinging onto his arm. "You can't do that!"
Sweeney rolled his eyes, shaking her loose and walking to his window. "I can't trust her. And besides, what help could she even be?"
"I need another 'and," Mrs. Lovett persisted, rushing to his side again and lightly touching his shoulder. "Bus'ness is boomin' an' me an' Toby can't do it all by ourselves. I get awful tired."
"Prove to me that she can help, and that she'll keep her nose out of trouble and maybe I'll let her stay." Sweeney said, turning around to face the mirror. He did have some pity in his heart for the girl. Just a tiny, tiny bit.
"Of course, sir," Mrs. Lovett nodded fervently. "Thank you so much! You're the best, Mr. T!" She gave him a light peck on the cheek just for the hell of it.
Sweeney sighed, rolling his eyes at her. "Alright. Now, out. I see customers coming."
"Yes, sir," Mrs. Lovett beamed, taking his plate and heading out of the barbershop.
