Every single one of her movements made me flinch. She screamed with such a passion I could barely stand it. Why must she torture me so? Lucy would never have said such cruel words to Benjamin Barker, not ever.
I lay the blame on the arsenic. Of course, that was the problem. The moment her lips had touched the arsenic, I believed that to be the moment this madness was conceived.
"Let me go," she murmured once more, finally tired of screaming. Her voice sounded as if it had been worn by the previous volume.
I was forced to ignore her pleas. I dared not answer her without the thought of striking passion into her again. Such would be sinful, I thought. I had already caused such pain in my absence that I did not wish to risk her happiness again.
A small smile came to my lips as I looked at her there in my arms. The smile was small, of course, due to the fact that I had lost the ability to truly appreciate happiness, but nonetheless it was there. She was just as I had remembered. It scared me how much she looked like she had before.
My eyes cast over her yellow hair. That same yellow hair that I had seen so many years ago. Like woven gold, although it had become darker with the rain. That same pale skin, the sort you would find on a white rose, a soft pink in her cheeks. And, whenever she opened her eyes- she seemed in such a daze it is as if she were intoxicated, unable to open them- I saw that same bright blue. Not china blue, not sapphire blue, but a pure blue not to be compared with anything else.
It was as if time had decided to be kind to me, even if the fates refused to be. Time had been still for me, leaving everything else unchanged, just as I had left it.
My voice was not heard over the loud rain, but I did my best to hush Lucy, and in my hope I imagined it soothed her slightly. At least, she had become less fervent in her escape, and fell slightly limp in my arms. It pained me to see her lose her power so quickly, but I could not deny I was glad she was there.
At last, I could see the window to my shop, and could also see that the lights were still on in Mrs Lovett's pie shop. It was a wonder, really. It was late, and more often than not she had given up hope on customers appearing this time of night.
Lucy had reduced herself to a childish whimper as she realised we had found our destination. I held her tightly, trying to soothe her, but it did not work. I pretended to myself that it did, but nothing could calm her now.
"Mrs Lovett," I said calmly the moment I stepped through the door. Lucy did not at all change her pace of whimpers or cries, as if she did not recognise the name at all.
"Mrs Lovett," I repeated, raising my voice ever so slightly. I did not allow myself to shout, though. My love was already frightened as it was, and I fear it would become worse if I raised my voice in violence.
"Yeh know, Mr T," Mrs Lovett's voice sounded from the parlour, "one of these days I'll 'ave to follow yeh down those streets. Ten o'clock, yeh've taken more time than usual to get back! Honestly, one of these days-"
She stepped into the room, and looked at me. Her features seemed to freeze, as if she had been struck to the face. Her mouth was still open, but she could not speak. At last.
"I don't need your opinions, Mrs Lovett, I need you to help."
She nodded quickly, rushing to the parlour again and returning with a bowl of water and a cloth. I was surprised she was so quick. I hadn't even had the time to sit Lucy down at one of the booths.
Lucy seemed dazed, unable to speak, her eyes attempting to open, but closing through sheer fatigue. No wonder, really. It had been a long day, and I assumed that either she had spent a night on the streets or only just arrived from York.
I took the wet cloth in my hand and scrubbed lightly at her face, revealing those same pretty features I had remembered. Remembered? No, that was not the right word. The face I had imagined for all those years could not compare to the one I saw now. I simply saw the face I had once lain beside in the marriage bed, the face that I had once kissed.
"What 'appened?" Mrs Lovett asked me quietly as Lucy fell against my chest, obviously unable to hold herself up let alone her eyelids.
I ignored Mrs Lovett's question, intent on my task. Slowly- and I do mean very slowly- Lucy's eyes began to regain control of themselves and opened, and those same blue eyes surveyed the surrounding room.
"Where am I?" she whispered.
"Home," I said determinedly, hoping she would understand.
She did not.
Lucy shook her head, looking again around her. She spotted Mrs Lovett, but scarcely looked at her, and returned her gaze back to me. I would have been glad had she not started to breathe so heavily, her lips quivering in panic.
"But- but what about Pemberly Court? That is home- that is now to be my home!"
"If you wished for us to find a home there then simply say the word, my dear."
"No- no, my father is waiting for me there. Please, sir, you must take me back now!"
"Your father is-"
"He is not dead and buried!" she cried out, shaking convulsively. "Why must you keep saying such horrid things? I was with him only hours ago- was it hours?- please, oh please, do help me find where I am supposed to be! We only just came down from York and he told me to find him there, but-"
"Calm yourself," I said quietly, holding her hands firmly. "You mustn't drive yourself to such a passion. Look, you've already brought yourself to tears." I swiftly wiped away the tear that started to caress her cheek, but she flinched, pushing my hand away. I could not say it did not harm my very soul, but what soul did I have left that was not hers?
"I weep only for my father, who you seem intent to make jokes of. They are none of them humorous, either!"
"But, my dear, my Lucy, I-"
"Lucy?" Mrs Lovett questioned all of a sudden, taking a step towards us. "Your Lucy?"
"It's her," I said firmly. Lucy snatched her hands from me.
"Who is Lucy?" she cried shrilly. She turned her head sharply to Mrs Lovett, her eyes desperate. "Please, ma'am, listen to sense and reason! He will not listen to me, I-"
"Lucy, hush yourself, you've become almost delirious."
"I am not Lucy!" she said, her voice wavering. "Please, ma'am, my name is Diane- Diane Walter! You must believe me, you must! He will not-"
A low moaned escaped me as I clasped my hands around Lucy's once more.
"You do not recognise me?" I asked, pleading more than I had since I first was taken to Australia. "It is me, my dear, your Benjamin. Your Benjamin Barker, your husband."
Her eyes grew wide, and with little breath she managed to shriek in an almost mad manner.
"I have never been married!" she exclaimed, beside herself with frustration. "Nor shall I be married if you continue to keep me here! Never once have I seen a Benjamin whether he be you or any other man!"
"My love, I-"
"I don't even know who you are!"
For a moment, I only stared at her, shocked still by her tears and blushed cheeks. It was an anger that I had not seen in her before. My memories sought to a time where she had ever been put in such a furore.
"Your Benjamin," I finally muttered, loud enough though for her to hear. She bit her lower lip, trying to think it would seem.
"I don't know a Benjamin," she said sadly, resigned. "Please, just take me home."
"This is your home."
I winced as Lucy moved away from me, backing away down the booth's bench. She shook her head doggedly, murmuring to herself. I felt Mrs Lovett's hand upon my shoulder.
"Perhaps yeh shouldn't, Mr T. I know she looks an awful lot like-"
"Looks like? Mrs Lovett, how blind can you be not to see her for what she is?"
"And what she looks like is yeh Lucy, I know, but she just said 'erself 'er name was Diane."
I rose quickly, causing Mrs Lovett to jump slightly, cowering under my gaze. Oh, how pitiful the woman could be at times. She claimed to love me so dearly, yet almost reduced herself to tears when I looked at her.
"Arsenic, you said," I reminded her. "Most cases, I should think it could kill her, but obviously it took another effect on her. Taken improperly it could result in amnesia, I'm sure of it."
"She's dead," Mrs Lovett said with a trembling voice. "Long gone, dead and buried. I told yeh about this."
"Then explain this!" I said, pointing a finger towards Lucy, who was only rocking back and forth now, the pure picture of madness. In a few simply strides I came to her side, wrapping her in my arms. She screamed out loud, but I hushed her, ignoring the pain in my heart that the one sound had caused.
"I'll admit, they're similar- could 'ave been sisters- but she's so young, Mr T. Yeh noticed that?"
"Some barely age at all," I said matter-of-factly, clinging to my wife desperately.
"And some are merely young," she told me as soothingly as she could muster. Lucy suddenly nodded, earnest.
"Proof! Evident proof!" she cried, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. "Then I am free?"
"Free?" I asked, feeling my heart sever. "Freedom? I offer you anything but, my dear. Is this not it?"
"Mr Barker, I-"
Quickly, I took hold of her wrists, holding them close and looking into her eyes- oh, those eyes, I curse them for intoxicating me so- and spoke quietly.
"My dear, my Lucy, you mustn't name me by that name again. They shall find me if you speak it out loud in front of anyone else. Please, it is Todd, now. Sweeney Todd."
Lucy seemed not to care for the idea, and only looked to Mrs Lovett, tears in her eyes. I sighed and rose again, bringing Lucy close to my chest. She struggled for a moment, then fell limp, shaking with quiet sobs.
"You seem weary," I said softly, smoothing her hair from her face. "We should have you off to bed."
Immediately, Lucy turned her head to Mrs Lovett, her eyes wide. In reply, Mrs Lovett shook her head.
"Nothing'll 'appen, love, I promise yeh."
I thought for a moment to scold the two of them for such thoughts, but thought better of it. I had nearly everything again. To scold now would be pointless.
