Chapter Two
Toby shut the door after the doctor, the worried look still present on his face, even though he wasn't allowed to be present during his mother's examination, neither was Mr. Todd, although the latter had just been informed of the baker's condition and requirements.
As soon as the man was out of sight, Toby rounded on the barber.
"What did he say?" he asked, his words coming out in a rush and jumbling up a little.
"Toby, I am not discussing your mother's condition with you." said Mr. Todd shortly.
"Exactly! My mother! I've more of a right to know than you, Mr. Todd, she's nothing to you." The last four words hit him like one of his precious razorblades, piercing his heart. Since he had arrived on Fleet Street, he hadn't really noticed how much Mrs. Lovett meant to him. She reminded him of a woman he used to know. Well, a girl who lived in the workhouse when he moved to Fleet Street at the age of thirteen. He suddenly thought back to the present, took in Toby's tear-streamed face and sighed in defeat.
"Sit down, Toby." instructed the barber, pointing to the settee in the parlour that also acted as Toby's bed for the night, before taking a seat in the armchair across from it, his eye's never leaving the young boy's face.
"Your mother has got quite a few injuries, Toby, she's really hurt."
"What's wrong with her?" Toby pounced on Mr. Todd's words, leaning forward slightly with worry.
"She's got a mild concussion, a large gash on her waist and she's fractured her leg in three places. It might take a while, but she'll be fine, lad. Eventually."
"When will she wake up?"
"I'm not sure, but it should be sometime soon."
As if those words had been a trigger, a quiet moan came from the bedroom off the parlour. Both Sweeney and Toby jumped at it and made for the door, though the barber attempted to slow his pace a bit, less he look too eager to visit his landlady.
By the time Sweeney reached the open door, Toby was perched on the edge of the double bed, it's patchwork quilt risen to cover the baker herself, who was sitting up weakly in bed. The boy looked reasonably awkward as he enquired after her health. Finally, Mrs Lovett stretched out her arms to the child, who practically lept on her. He backed away with a terrifiedly guilty expression on his face as his touch caused his adoptive mother to wince and clutch at her waist.
"I'm sorry, Mum, I'm really, really sorry!" gasped Toby, tears of terror streaking his face.
"No, don't worry, darling, it's alright." she soothed, opening her arms once more to her son, who embraced her gingerly. When they broke apart, she smiled once more at the boy.
"Toby, dear, could you do me a favour? Could you check that the pies are ready for tomorrow's shop opening? I'll be right down in the morning."
"Uh, no you won't, Mrs Lovett, you aren't leaving this bed for the next fortnight at least." Sweeney Todd had spoken for the first time, actually alerting the pair for the first time that he had entered the room.
"Toby, go to bed." sighed Mrs. Lovett, ruffling Toby's hair before giving him a push on his way. He turned at the doorway and blew her a kiss before running off through the parlour, presumably to find Mrs. Lovett's hidden supply of gin. The demon barber walked over to Mrs. Lovett's side, picking up the glass of water he had left by her bedside and holding it out to her, gently clasping her fingers around the cold glass and walking towards the door before the widow could catch a glimpse of his eyes.
"Get some rest." he said, carefully toning his voice to sound more sympathetic than loving. After he exited the room, the baker mused on his reaction to her. The softness of his voice, the gentleness of his touch, the loving look in his eyes. One word came immediately to mind.
Maybe.
