A/N: Hey! This is my first Sweeney Todd fanfic! Le disclaimer: I don't own Sweeney Todd, and if I did, I'd be really rich right now... XD Its current title is the working title; I might change it before the end of the story, so... heh. Oh yes... In this story, Mrs. Lovett's first name is Claudetta. I read that Claudetta was one of the first names that she's been given, and I was like, hey, I like that one best, so I'm using it. The only image of Mrs. Lovett in my head is Helena Bonham Carter as her, so... yesh. I'll stop blabbering now. Please R/R!!
Prologue: Return to London
Climbing out of the cab, she surveyed her surroundings.
"This it, ma'am?" asked the driver. The girl hesitated a moment before answering.
"Yes," she said. "Fleet Street this is." The driver nodded, rolled up the window, and drove away.
The girl looked at the building in front of her, and as she read the sign, a smile lifted her tiny lips. Mrs. Lovett's meat pies. She remembered this shop. She remembered it very well. Its reputation was engraved fondly in her memory: Mrs. Lovett was known for making the worst pies in London. The girl hadn't had one of her pies in a long time... it'd been about eight years. Eight years... She couldn't believe that was how long she spent in the United States. She'd been sent to America because her mother hadn't had enough money to care for her as a child... but now she was back, and old enough to work to sustain herself. Maybe not to live alone, but she could help out her mother. She planned to work and help out Mrs. Lovett at the shop, actually...
She shook her head. She might actually want to go into the shop instead of just standing outside and staring at it!
She picked up her bag and pushed open the door, stepping into the shop. The first thing she saw was a brown-haired boy behind the shop counter, furiously cleaning it. The girl walked up to the counter, setting her bag on the floor.
"Hello," she said, leaning on it. "I'm looking for Mrs. Claudetta Lovett..." The boy quickly looked up at her.
"Mrs. Lovett?" he repeated, a sliver of sorrow in his eyes.
"Yeah," the girl replied. "Mrs. Lovett. Can you tell me where she is, or could you go get her or something, please?"
"Who are you, please?" the boy asked.
"My name's Catherine," said the girl.