Chapter 3 already!! I'm not certain if it's the holiday spirit, but writing frenzy has invaded my mind! I'm hoping to make great advance before starting off with classes again…
linalove: thank you, dear! Let's see if you agree with Mina's behavior in this chapter… all I can say is she is not ignorant to Mr T's 'charm'…
Disclaimer: I do not own Sweeney Todd. All I can do is dream…
"Mina, darling!" the sound of Nellie's voice traveled all the way up the baking house's stairs and outside the shop, where I was sweeping last evening's crumbles and whatnot dirt off. "Would you gimme a hand?"
I left my current task and descended the dark stairs, becoming used to the particular smell dangling there and in the bake house.
After adjusting my eyes to the room's poor light, I couldn't help but cringe to the sight of corpses lying in a bunch near the oven, blood still leaking and settling between the asphalt floors. Even though I was resolute to accept this lifestyle and be of any help I could to the baker, the crudeness of it all still bothered me significantly. Thank God, Nellie had insisted on never involving me in any chore inside the baking house, even if I did sometimes help her with the non-sadistic side of the process. Bringing down flour, taking the batches out of the oven, taking trays with pies upstairs to serve during the dinner rush; simple acts that made me feel helpful despite my feigned ignorance of the macabre secret ingredient. Needless to say I did not dare to try a pie again. Ever.
Nellie was half bent near the oven, fumbling with a man's pockets before extracting a few coins. She was drenched in sweat and seemed to have been there for days, baking restless. The dark marks under her eyes added to the effect. "There you are, Mina!"
"Nellie, are you all right? You look…" Awful. Sick. Ghostly. A hundred years old. "…tired. Really tired. How long have you been here?"
She chuckled and waved away. "Oh, nonsense, dearie. I'm all right. Just a little hot. Must be the years finally settling on me. All I needed; damn hot flashes and me working near an oven all day!"
She sighed and wiped the sweat off her forehead before walking to the cutting table, where a delicate tray rested. She took a pie from a batch that had just come out of the oven and set it on a clean plate, beside a cup and a kettle, and handed the tray to me.
"Here, luv. Take this to Mr T and make sure he at least takes a bite off it. Poor thing's already on his bones, don't know how he's supposed to even think without a decent meal once a day."
I nodded and made to reach the stairs, before turning and looking at Nellie with worried eyes. "Are you sure you're all right? I could help you, just tell me wh–"
"Don't be foolish, dear. I can manage. Besides, I'm almost done. I'll be up in a blink." She smiled and winked at me. "Promise."
……………………….
As I made my way to the barber's shop, I wondered if he'd be with one of his customers. I inwardly cringed at the thought of any poor fool that might've walked in searching for nothing but a shave. In any case, I would not be able to make sure he ate his lunch as Nellie told me to, and I was certainly not staying around to witness one of his shaves with 'special ending'.
I knocked twice before a growled 'Come in' was heard. I gasped when upon entering the shop I indeed found Mr Todd was not alone. A plump, middle aged man leaned his head back, eyes closed as the barber sleekly passed the silver blade across his neck, jaw line and cheeks, working on his face as if on a canvas, mastering the act and turning it into an art.
Besides my quick reverie on the threshold, I did everything I could to avert my gaze and get the hell out of the room as fast as I could. I turned to set the tray on the nearest table, the one beside the door, only to find it was gone. Nervously, I searched for it with my eyes, not wanting to disturb Mr Todd.
"Just set it on the bureau, Miss Thatcher." Too late.
"Sure, Mr Todd." I swiftly walked toward said bureau, setting the tray atop and headed for the door again. As my hand reached for the doorknob, he stopped me.
"Would you mind boiling some water for tea, Miss Thatcher? That is if Mrs. Lovett has not already done so. She almost never does." He said the last sentence under his breath, almost mockingly. He then asked the man he was shaving if he'd fancy some tea, to which the fellow thanked and denied chuckling, muttering about being in a hurry.
"I'll see to it, sir." I ventured to check the kettle, inwardly cursing after finding it empty.
"You can light the stove. There's water near the wooden chest." Although his back was facing me, I distinctly could tell he'd spoken through a smirk. I scowled and followed his instructions, forced to stay in the room to wait for the boiling kettle. I sat on a little stall beside the stove; elbows on my knees and my head propped up in one of my hands.
It seemed the man had come for more than a shave, for Todd was now attending to his hair. Nevertheless, I wondered why on earth he had not sliced his throat when he first got the chance to. It would have certainly saved him time not to mention his tonsorial products.
Being too immersed in my head, I became unaware of my eyes on the barber and next thing I knew I found myself staring at his bum. I startled and blushed at my unconscious ogling, averting my eyes and looking elsewhere around the room. However, the lack of any decoration on the dull walls and old furniture once again led my eyes to travel upon the other two living forms in the room. After briefly taking in the man on the chair, who was now holding trivial conversation with Mr Todd, my gaze settled on the barber himself, his head absently tilting now and then, making me imagine the concentration his pale face must have shown. He clearly was as immersed in his task as I was in my staring, his arms gently following the movements of his strong hands while they worked on the man in front of him. I mentally asked if those hands were as strong before he was sent to Australia. Surely the years there might've broken him down emotionally, but I sensed he had probably acquired some extra strength. At least that was what his hands suggested…as well as his back, where his broad shoulders led to a smaller middle.
I closed my eyes. If he had not noticed my gaze on him before, he surely would any moment now, with my eyes burning holes on his back and all. Part of me felt real bad doing this, leering at a troubled widower without his consent behind his back. On the other side, a nagging little voice assured me I should most definitely ended what I started, seeing how women throughout the ages have been victims of this type of behavior from indiscrete men. In a twisted sort of way, I had the power to avenge in the name of women all over the world by relishing in this mysterious man's attributes.
What the hell. I opened my eyes. For the sake of us gals.
Leisurely crossing my legs, my arms in the same position as before, I silently sighed while I allowed myself to fully admire his bottom. Those pin striped trousers really suited him. Following the stripes downwards, with his legs, a small mischievous smile crept to my lips. He indeed was a very, very good looking man. Oddly, his clothes added to his appeal as well. I unconsciously began to jerk the leg I'd crossed, creating spasmodic movements of my foot in the air.
I wonder what he looks like without…
A chirping whistle-like noise brought me back from lust land, making me stand to my feet with a halt and startle both Mr Todd and his customer. The kettle, having heated up and boiled the water, was puffing vapor. Other than the odd look they both gave me, I seemed to have caused no harm.
"I'm sorry." I hissed with a shaky breath, before turning my attention to the, much like me, heated kettle.
"Are you all right, young madam? You seem quite flustered." The man in the chair was now standing, cleaning his face with a towel and giving it to Mr Todd along with the payment to his services.
"Oh, I'm all right, sir. Just a bit heated." Both men merely stared at my flushed face. "From being to close to the stove, that is!" I sighed giggling nervously and turned my back on them, carefully grabbing the kettle to pour water in Mr Todd's cup.
"Oh. Well, Mr Todd, many thanks to you, as always." The man grinned at Todd, who thanked him back, and left the room. "And good day to you, madam."
I looked sideways from the bureau as I was preparing Todd's tea, nodding him off with a still heated face. This time from embarrassment. Continuing my task as hastily as I managed, I didn't hear the barber's steps approaching me until I saw him next to me, his eyes on the tray.
"Here you go, Mr Todd, your tea." I handed him the small cup and he took it without looking at me. He then walked toward his blurred window, his face in a stoic expression. For a brief moment his eyes flickered in my direction.
"That would be all, Miss Thatcher."
I fidgeted on my feet. "Um, actually, sir, Nellie has asked me to make sure you at least have a bite for lunch. Of the pie she sent for you, just out of the oven."
He grunted and rolled his eyes, only to continue gazing outside while sipping his tea.
"You can tell Mrs. Lovett I'm fine, girl. Now leave, I'm sure she must have something for you to do."
I frowned. Last thing I needed was this man acting childish while both Nellie and I were trying to help him. I looked at the porcelain plate and its content before carefully venturing further.
"Listen, Mr Todd. I know it's none of my business what you do, much less what you eat or if you decide not to do so. Even so, I'd wish you considered Mrs Lovett only means good by worrying for you."
"Means good? What would you know of her intentions, silly girl?" He spoke finally looking at me, eyes narrowed.
"That's not of my concern, sir. But the fact she has helped both you and me with unconditionally only tells me how much she cares. The least thing we can do in return is please her with little acts such as bothering to eat something she's made." With my gaze on the floor I made to leave the shop, but his voice stopped me.
"Rich coming from you, isn't it?" I frowned and turned my head his way.
"I'm sorry, sir?"
"Forgive me if I'm wrong, Miss Thatcher, but haven't you denied to try one of her… concoctions since the day you found out about her secret recipe?"
I stood there, mouth agape. How was I supposed to respond to that? Without a word, I seized the pie lying on the plate, took a mouthful of it and set it back, my eyes everywhere but him as I chewed through it.
When I was done, I stared at him, defiantly, while he merely stood with an inquiring expression. Silent as me, he made his way to the bureau, set his tea down, and proceeded to do exactly what I'd just done, except he glued his eyes to mine while he chew, defiant as well. He once again placed the pie on the plate, where it landed with a low thud.
"There. Pleased?" He asked with raised eyebrows. I had to smile at success.
"I am. Thank you, Mr Todd." I sighed and turned to leave before once again I stopped, this time because of a thought. He sensed this and irritation arose in his voice.
"What now?" he hissed.
"Just wondering…the man who just left, why didn't you…?"
"Well I can't be known as the best barber in London without clientele to prove so, now can I?"
Fair enough. I nodded in agreement before finally making my way out of his room, unexplainably giddy as I walked down the stairs. However, what greeted me as I got down certainly made the giddiness dissipate.
Guess what's greeted Mina downstairs? I might update really soon