Hope you all like this next bit… more characters introduced and all. Enjoy!
Chapter Three: An Intervention
As Carmella walked down Fleet Street, she felt her head starting to clear. Whatever Pirelli was selling, she hoped Mr. Todd wouldn't buy any, or else she might have to move out.
"'Scuse me, Miss."
Carmella stopped and came over to where a red-haired boy about her age stood with a vending cart. "Would you like some bread?"
"Well," Carmella began nervously, "I would, but I haven't any money…" She showed him her empty change bag and the boy smiled.
"I didn't say you had to pay for it." He ripped off a piece of baguette and handed it to Carmella. "There we are."
Carmella accepted the fresh bread with a slight blush creeping onto her face. "Thank you… that's very kind."
Taking a piece of bread for himself, he asked, "what's your name?"
"Carmella Lovett. My mother owns a shop on the corner of Fleet Street. Mrs. Lovett's Meat Pies."
"Ian," he smiled, shaking her hand. "My mother's in charge of the bread shop behind me. Mrs. Harper's Bakery."
"Won't you get in trouble for giving it away like that?" Carmella inquired with concern coating her voice.
Ian shook his head. "No. Mother doesn't mind, if it's for a good cause. And you looked hungry. Ain't that a good enough reason?"
Looking into his mesmerizing blue eyes, Carmella felt as though she were in a trance. "Have… have I seen you before?" That gaze seemed so familiar… hard to forget.
"Don't think so," Ian answered, dusting the crumbs off of his shirt. "Then again, there's a lot of people comin' and goin' 'round here; just get to know somebody one week and then they're gone the next. Real shame."
"I know how that is," agreed Carmella. Ian started heading back to the shop's door.
"Want to come inside? I can get you something to drink."
Carmella remained where she was, seeming to contemplate the choices. "Well… I guess it wouldn't hurt. As long as it's alcohol free. I'm all for the temperance movement."
Ian laughed. "Of course not. Mother won't let any alcohol into the house. Said something happened involving it - somethin' bad. She won't talk about it, though." He pulled out a chair and pushed it in after Carmella sat down, before fetching two glasses and filling them both with water.
"What does your father do? Does he help out with the shop?"
A solemn expression fell over him. "My father was killed." His voice was hardly above a whisper.
"Oh… I'm sorry." Carmella bit her lip, wishing she was able to hold her tongue better.
Ian shook his head. "Ain't your fault. You can't help what happened. Judge Turpin sentenced him to be hung. So it went. I didn't know him though, so it wasn't all for naught I guess. Gets lonely though, with only a cat to confess your feelin's to." He ran a hand through the tabby's thick coat, receiving loud purrs in return.
"I'm no stranger to loneliness either. My father, Albert Lovett, passed away a couple years ago. Had gout in his left leg… didn't do nothing but sit around all day. Ever since then, it's been me and my mom. My best friend, Caite Deshler, moved away a while ago. And mom doesn't like me being friends with Bernadette Mooney, but - "
"Bernadette Mooney, you say? She's a good friend of mine. I haven't seen her in ages…"
"She hasn't been in school," Carmella replied, drawing patterns on the old table thoughtfully. "Been too busy helping her mother run the business."
Ian wrinkled his brow, looking Carmella over. "You're in my school? Never seen you before… I'm sure I'd remember you."
"Oh, Ian!" The sing-song voice of a female rang out in the shop. "Where are you?"
The red-head cringed and stood quickly. "You need to get out of here, now."
Carmella looked shocked as Ian began to drag her by the arm towards the side door of the shop. "What's going on - where are you taking me?"
"It's Reverend Everly's daughter, Amanda," Ian explained as he opened the door, "you can't be here."
"Ian!"
"Go, Carmella."
He slammed the door in her face as she was about to protest and Carmella found herself in a small alleyway outside the bakery.
It was raining when Carmella rounded the corner of Fleet Street and the shop came into view. On the front steps sat a black-haired girl wrapped in a green shawl; in her hand was a stack of papers, the manuscript of her story. She stood upon seeing her friend, but Carmella barely noticed her.
"Something wrong?" Bernadette asked as Carmella dug around her pocket for the key. She eventually pulled out an old silver one and unlocked the door, brushing past the other girl. "What, so you're not going to talk to me, is it?" Bernadette asked, pausing in the doorframe.
Carmella sat down at the table and buried her head in her hands. "Been a horrible day," she replied softly. It took Bernadette a moment or two before she realized that Carmella was crying and sat down at her side to comfort her.
"Might I ask what's happened?"
"As if having a man who seems half-cracked come into your mother's shop, only to find out he's staying isn't enough, I met this guy… Ian Harper, his name was. Said he knew you. Things were going great, 'til he slammed the door on me after some Amanda girl showed up."
Bernadette pulled Carmella close in a hug. "Ian's wonderful… it's just, he doesn't hang out around the right people. Amanda, you said? As in, Amanda Everly?"
"That's the one." "Better if you don't get involved with her. She may be the Reverend's daughter, but by no means is she any angel." Bernadette stoked Carmella's hair comfortingly. "Would it be all right if I stayed here tonight?"
"I'd like that," Carmella replied, wiping her tears away with the back of her hand. "Just us girls… it'll be like a right old slumber party, yeah?"
Bernadette nodded and set her stack of papers in front of Carmella. "Better get started reading if you want to finish it tonight."
A/N: Okay, so more to come! I've got some plans for Ian which will be revealed a bit later on… Until then, I'll be working on getting Chapter Four up soon.
