Obviously, I do not own Mrs. Lovett, Sweeney Todd, or any of the original characters of 'Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street'. I only own my OC's.
The pie shop on Fleet Street bustled with excitement as its owner, Mrs. Lovett, scurried from table to table. The aroma of perfectly seasoned meat filled the air, as well as the musky smell of ale and exercised bodies. Rowdy men laughed loudly and clanked tankards as they discussed their ventures. Their wives huddled close, to complain about their husband's latest mistakes. At the table nearest the exit sat the Ainsworth family, standing out with their fine clothes and well groomed hair. Mr. and Mrs. Ainsworth sat side by side and laughed as their two youngest boys, George and Leonard, dug into their favorite food with intent. Cora, the beautiful daughter of twenty-three, sat beside her brothers and watched, highly amused. Mrs. Aintsworth's father –Mr. Pearson- sat quietly, drinking gin.
The Ainsworth's were of great wealth and honor, and Mrs. Lovett treated them as such. Cora had become good friends with the woman, as her family often sent her on errands to the market on Fleet Street. It was refreshing to have an acquaintance outside of her family and their tight-knit circle of ingenuine friends. Lately, however, her friend was less inviting. Being a woman herself, she knew that it was a love affair that took her attention but she did not ask.
"'ow about 'nother round o' pies for the lov'ly fam'ly?" Mrs. Lovett proposed, giving a wink to Cora before calling out. "Toby! Six pies for Ainsworth!" She smiled to the family and lowered her voice, making it soft and comforting, "On the 'ouse, of course, my treat."
Mrs. Ainsworth grabbed Mrs. Lovett's hand and said "That is so generous, but we cannot accept, my husband will pay for everything we eat." She smiled at the woman, who was smirking back.
"If you wish," she soothed, "but my offer still stands."
At the end of the meal Mr. Pearson stood, wobbling as he kept his hands on the table. His drunken eyes blinked slowly as he exhaled deeply, Cora felt sick as his breath, wreaking of gin, hit her nose. "I-" he began but a burp interrupted his sentence, and then he continued, "I need a shave."
Mrs. Ainsworth sighed, and shook her head, "Father, you cannot drink so much. It is unbecoming." She scanned her surroundings to ensure that no one was watching the drunk old man make a fool of himself.
Her father grunted, and repeated with force, "I need a shave." He began to trip his way to the staircase that led to Sweeney Todd's Tonsorial Parlor. His hands grabbed at shouting shoulders and heads as he fought to keep himself upright.
"Goodness!" His daughter gasped as she watched the man, "Cora, please, accompany him." She commanded, obviously upset by the sight of her father so distraught.
Cora stood, smoothing out her blue silk skirts. She scurried to her grandfather and grabbed his hand. "Come, papa. We will see to it that you have the finest shave in London." This brought a smile to his face. She loved to humor the man, as he has had low spirits of late. The two walked toward the staircase and she looked again to her papa, "Have you ever met the barber? Mr. Todd?"
He shook his head slowly.
Cora knocked lightly on the door and opened it. The shop was spacious, a vanity and chair were before her, and beyond that was a large window with a beautiful view of the moon. She guided him to the chair and asked him to sit. She took in the rest of the room, feeling an odd sort of peace in the dated wallpaper and smudged window panes. On the vanity was a photograph of a beautiful lady and a baby. From the hall, a man appeared. There was a small smile on his face, but it did not seem true. His hair was black with an odd streak of grey, it was striking. Cora met his eyes, which were black and cold. She warmly introduced herself and her grandfather.
His response was polite but distant, he bowed his head and replied only, "Sweeney Todd."
Cora felt an odd warmth toward the mysterious man, but mostly she felt sadness toward whatever made him so miserable. Inwardly she laughed at herself. You have known the man for two words, Cora.
"I need a shave." Called the man in the chair, who was spinning himself in the barber chair. Mr. Todd swiftly stopped the spinning with his hand.
"Of course, sir." He nodded toward the man, grabbing a razor from the table and pulled the strop on his belt taut. His eyes drifted up to Cora, who had not moved. Their eyes met for a few moments and he held his razor up, pointing at her and then moving it slightly to the left. "There is a chair behind you." He whispered, his eyes never leaving her.
Cora broke the contact and walked to the chair. She sat straight, and watched the barber sharpen his razor on the strop. There was a small, repeating 'shlink' as the piece of metal glided against the leather. His eyes observed the silver razor intently, flickering for a second to the girl watching from the corner, and then down to her grandfather. Sweeney covered Mr. Pearson's beard with a lather and began to skillfully remove the man's stubble. The shave lasted but a minute, and he handed his customer a rag to wipe the excess lather from his cheeks.
"My!" Cora gasped, "You are a master at your craft, Mr. Todd." She stood and walked to her grandfather, grabbing his arm gently, "Do you feel better, now?"
He responded with a grunt.
There was a moment of silence before she sighed upon her realization, "He left his money on the table."
Cora reached for her reticule but Sweeney touched her hand. Startled she looked up at the man, "No need, it was my pleasure." He politely nodded, "Your custom is always welcome, Mr. Pearson." He gave a separate nod toward the young woman, "Ms. Ainsworth."
She felt guilty and wanted to argue but her grandfather was antsy to return home. She gave the barber an apologetic smile, "Thank you, Mr. Todd." She turned back to the man on her arm and opened the door, "Let us get you home, papa."
Reviews (critique and suggestions) welcome!