CHAPTER II:
The History of the World, My Pet…
Night time had finally fallen upon the city of London. Up in his parlour, Sweeney Todd fixedly cleaned his instruments, one by one with meticulous care. She watched him from the doorframe, silently following his every move.
He seemed to be in a good mood. The top buttons of his collar were undone, and he tapped his foot softly to a music only he could hear as he examined the details of his precious razors. The carefully engraved initials B.B.; the glistening handle and the scathing blade still dripping with blood.
She lived for these moments. She cherished every second when she had the opportunity to watch him whilst he was unaware of her presence. He was almost child-like, with a small touch of innocence in his actions and expressions. He suddenly turned and saw her standing, her diminutive frame clad in a soft cotton nightgown, and blocking the entrance. Her long fiery curls were no longer up in their usual chignon, but flowing freely down her back, and shamelessly gleaming under the candle light; her coffee-brown eyes looked at him with that customary affection she reserved for him alone, and her lips curved in a tired, but loving smile. At this moment, Eleanor Lovett almost looked beautiful.
For a short instance, neither individual made a move. They simply stood there, examining each other. Sweeney seemed transfixed, with an unearthly look in his silvery eyes, whilst Eleanor began to make her way towards him carefully, yet with confidence. When she reached him, she slowly stood on her tiptoes, and without a second thought pressed her lips to his, closing her eyes as she did so.
Sweeney did not respond to the kiss at first. As Eleanor was about to withdraw, wounded by his rejection, he buried his large hands into her hair and kissed her with ardent fervour. She pulled away cautiously and looked at him, finding his eyes full of desperation, desire, and a small hint of hope. He kissed her again, and this time she did not pull away, but tugged at his shirt. His hands began roaming her body, grabbing handfuls of the smooth fabric that currently served as a barrier between him and what he sought after.
Eleanor once again pulled away from him, and placing her small hand inside his larger one, she led him down the stairs, into her small quarters and closed the door.
The harsh light of the sun greeted Eleanor Lovett as she opened her tired eyes. The first thing she noticed was that she was surrounded by white all around. There were white walls, white curtains, white bedclothes, and a small wooden-brown crucifix atop the bed.
"Is this Heaven?" was the first thought that ran through her mind. Then, the mockery of the question hit her and sent her into a reel of painful child-like giggles. She was not clothed in one of her usually fancy garments, but was instead she wore a simple chemise, with a soft and light pair of drawers. She struggled to sit up, but the attempt sent such a sharp throb through her entire body that caused her to resist immediately. She settled for staring at the high ceiling, and hoping for the appearance of any face.
Soon, her wish was granted as a small man in a fancy waistcoat and cravat, carrying a black leather bag walked in, fixing his spectacles on his oversized nose before he made a move to speak.
"Nice to see you are finally awaken, Mrs. Lovett." His voice was much too high for a man, and Lovett had to use all her strength to not burst into another fit of giggles.
Before she was able to reply to his greeting, the doctor continued.
"My name is Doctor Bennett. I was hired by the police department to serve as your personal physician, Mrs. Lovett, as it seems that you have taken quite a blow in these past few days. Now, then, where shall we start? You are very badly bruised indeed, Mrs. Lovett." Stated the doctor, once again fixing his spectacles.
"It don't take a bloody physician to discover that, doctor." Replied Lovett in a hoarse voice, finding that it hurt even to swallow.
"Yes… well." Doctor Bennett cleared his throat as an indication that he was about to proceed.
"Your ankle was very badly harmed, and the task of walking promises to be a rather agonizing one for perhaps as long as a fortnight. Your left wrist is, without a doubt, broken, and during the two days whilst you remained unconscious, I set the bones in place, however do not expect it to heal properly at your age."
At this comment, Mrs. Lovett's eyes widened with rage as she reached for the blankets.
"Now, you listen to me, little man. You got no right to barge in here like the bleedin' saviour 'imself and… well, talk to me in such a manner! You can save those 'elpful commentaries fo' your other patients."
The doctor, however, seemed to ignore her outburst. He fixedly adjusted his cravat. After she was finished, he continued.
"You are not to strain yourself for the next little while, and there will be absolutely no talk of you getting out of the confinements of these quarters. You are permitted to start sitting up in bed and attempting to walk only when there is help at your service, which will be provided three times a day for five and forty minutes. Is that clear, madam?"
Mrs. Lovett looked at him, her countenance filled with disbelief.
"Wot's tellin' me I should trust you, sir? If I feel I gots the strength, why shouldn't I try to get up? Innit better fo' me to get out of this bloody place sooner?"
Doctor Bennett simply looked at her with annoyance in his eyes.
"I suggest, Mrs. Lovett, that you follow my instructions directly, if you in fact desire to have a successful and healthy pregnancy."