A/N: Sorry about not updating over the weekend guys. I would have done, but my friend came over for a sleepover. We watched Edward Scissorhands on Saturday night, and I ended up crying (sniffle). Johnny is amazing in whatever role he plays, and Burton is a fabulous director. ANYWAY. On topic. Chapter 3. Er... I started this with the intention of it being a fairly happy chapter and... well, see for yourselves. I SWEAR the next chapter will be happy-ish.


Chapter 3 – Truth And Lies

OoOoOoOoO

Susan stirred from sleep slowly, her eyelashes fluttering slightly but not opening. Her head was resting on something that was definitely not a pillow or cushion – or the floor – and her hands were linked around something else, and something else was curled into her hair softly. And her head felt like it had been kicked by a horse to boot; the aching thump almost drawing a moan from her.

What the…? She thought, before groggily managing to open her dark brown eyes somewhat. The sight she was greeted with made her open them fully, biting back an oath. Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

She was slumped sidewards in the booth in her shop, her head resting on Benjamin's chest and her arms around his neck. His hand was resting in her auburn hair, as if he'd fallen asleep in the act of running his fingers through them. Susan closed her eyes again and counted to ten, before emitting a loud sigh and deciding that she would have to make it perfectly clear to Benjamin that Eleanor Lovett was dead and gone, and no matter what he tried he was not going to bring her back. The things she'd seen in Australia… the things that went on under the noses of the officials… even by the officials… A shudder ran right down her spine as several memories bubbled to the fore of her mind. No, it would be better for both of them if Benjamin realised that she was beyond saving. If her heart was still whole, a stab of pain would have struck it at the thought of letting go of all those girlish fantasies she had indulged in as a young girl, even up to when Benjamin had gotten married… even when she had gotten married. She'd never stopped hoping. But now it was time to accept.

Sighing, Susan disentangled herself from her… from the barber. She stood and rearranged the skirts of her dress, before gazing around the shop. If she could find a way of owning it again, even though she had no money, then she'd have a place to stay and a business to come back to. Maybe the thought of new management would get rid of those fanciful ghost stories once and for all. Susan pushed away the thought that if this was impossible, she'd be out on the streets, and set to work trying to find a broom so she could get rid of all the dust.

When Benjamin awoke some time later, aching from the unusual position and missing the warmth of another body beside him, he was greeted by the sight of a much cleaner shop, and a very busy redhead carrying on cleaning. Turning at the sound of him working the stiffness out of his muscles, for a moment she almost smiled, but then her expression went blank again. Not hostile, or anything like that. Just… blank.

"Morning, Nellie." He greeted her, to be met with a glimmer of annoyance in her eyes.

"Susan now." She replied, going back to what she had been doing – namely, cleaning a stack of dishes in the chipped sink – with zest. "Susan Linnet."

"All right… Susan." The unfamiliar name rolled off his tongue. "You're staying, then?"

"Might as well." Susan replied. "Got a roof o'er me 'ead, an' a business ready an' waitin'. Seems a Godsend."

"So this is it, then?" Benjamin remarked softly. "We just… go back to normal? As if the last ten years never happened?" The prospect was an attractive one, to say the least.

"Not quite." The redheaded woman didn't so much as pause in her activities. "If we can get the shops back, you're welcome to 'ave yours back, o' course, but I think it'd be better if we pretended not to know each other, like… an' keep it that way."

"What?" Benjamin wondered if he'd heard wrong, the last tendrils of sleep clouding his hearing.

"You 'eard me." Susan responded, a little sharply, Benjamin thought. "It's for the best, really. I've changed Benjamin, more'n you'll ever know. You…" She paused, and seemed to struggle to grasp the right words, turning from him once more. "You're lookin' for that girl from ten years ago, an'… an' she's gone, Benjamin – as gone as Lucy, as gone as Thomas – an' she's never comin' back. She can't come back, 'cause… 'cause she's dead."

"All right." He said slowly, standing quietly and taking a few steps forwards. "You say Nellie's dead? I… I suppose that's understandable. It was naïve to think you wouldn't have changed." The barber reached out and laid a hand on the redhead's shoulder, tightening the grip when she tried to shrug it off. "But why can't I know Susan Linnet?"

Susan snorted softly. "D'you really want to? I jus' told you I've changed, d'you really think you'll want to know me?"

"Yes." Benjamin stepped forwards, so he was facing Susan, and looked at her intently. "I've known you since you were thirteen – do you really think I won't be here for you now."

"No, but that's not the point. I… I'm no good for you, Benjamin. Never was really, jus' bein' a slum girl an' all, but now…" The redhead bit down on her bottom lip, something she always did when she was angry with herself. "Albert was right on that one."

Benjamin was at a loss. Why was it so hard for her to understand that friendship like theirs was built to last through changes such as these? That he would accept her no matter how much she had changed? The barber was brusquely reminded of an encounter not long after she had married Albert.


Benjamin had come down to the pie shop after Lucy had fallen asleep, intending to have a drink or two with his friend and talk for half an hour or so before retiring himself. Instead of a bubbly, happy baker, he was met by the sight of Nellie sat in the small booth, head down, and yet obviously crying, the small sobs almost inaudible, her pale hands wrapped firmly around a glass of gin, the bottle beside it. She was shaking a little.

"Nellie?" He called softly, sitting beside her and trying to put an arm around the young woman, only for her to struggle away. "What happened?"

"Maybe you should go back up tonight, Benjamin." Nellie whispered, not meeting his eyes, keeping her head at an odd angle so he couldn't see her face.

"What? Well, why on Earth-?"

Please, Benjamin."

Wordlessly, Benjamin reached a hand out and held her chin, turning her face towards him. He could never tell what Nellie was thinking if he couldn't see her eyes. Yet what he saw on her face now made his blood run cold, and then hot, with shock and anger.

"Who?" He asked, horrified at the large bruise covering her right cheek. "I'll-"

"It was me own fault." Nellie cut him off, the lie evident in her eyes. "I tripped over earlier an' hit meself on the counter. I'm fine."

Benjamin just looked at her, eliciting a long, drawn-out sigh.

"The truth this time, please." He chided her gently, trying once again to pull his friend into a half-hug. This time Nellie didn't resist, instead laying her head on his shoulder as she spoke.

"Albert thinks we're sneakin' 'round behind 'is back." She said bluntly. Benjamin couldn't help himself – he let out a chuckle.

"You can't be…" He began, and then trailed off as he saw Nellie's expression. "You're serious."

"Yeah. I am." Nellie abruptly sat up straight. "So, I think it'd be best if you jus' didn't come down for a few nights. 'E was drunk, but that's when e's 'onest 'bout what 'e's thinkin'."

"Eleanor, I don't see why you should let the paranoid delusions of your husband stop you living your life the way you want to." Benjamin felt a fire building inside him, setting alight to the fuse of his temper. "I mean, you can't credit it! Has he forgotten I have a wife? Planning to have a child?" He shook his head, disgusted, missing the way the baker winced slightly at those rhetorical questions. Something suddenly occurred to Benjamin, and he turned slowly to Nellie, brushing his fingers over her bruise with a touch so feather-light it was barely there. The smallest shiver ran down Nellie's spine, and he drew his hand back, afraid that he'd hurt her.

"Did he…?" He didn't need to finish the question, or hear the answer. Benjamin balled his hands into fists. "Nellie, listen to me. If he ever – ever – tries to hurt you again, come up o the shop and tell me. I promise I won't let him hurt you."

"You can't promise that, love." Nellie's tears had long since stopped, but now a single diamond glinted on her cheek. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't 'ave said a word. Forget I said anythin'."

"No." Benjamin brushed the tear away with his thumb. "Please, Nellie, promise me you'll do it."

"I… All right." She sighed heavily. Benjamin tucked a stray red curl behind her ear.

"Good. Is there anything else you want to get off your chest."

She said no, pretending not to know he could see she was lying. He pretended to believe her.


"Is it because I didn't stop him?"

Susan blinked several times, confused by the sudden change of topic.

"What're you on about?" She demanded, hands on her hips, whirling round to face the barber, whose expression could only be described as wretched.

"Do you not want to know me because I didn't stop Albert when you needed me that night?" Benjamin reiterated. "I promised you I wouldn't let him hurt you, and then…"

Susan was torn. Half of her wanted to hug him for simply being Benjamin Barker and remembering something with clarity that she'd almost forgotten, and the other half wanted to shake him. She told him that she'd changed, that they couldn't carry on as before because of her… and then he blamed himself? Over something like that?

"'Aven't I jus' been sayin' that this is 'cause o' 'ow I've changed?" A smirk threatened to take over her face due to his actions and she forced it down, annoyance beginning to bubble up instead. "I never… You never… Argh!" Susan slammed a hand down on the counter to let out a little of her frustration. "Stop blamin' yourself, Benjamin, 'cause I never 'ave an' never will."

"Then tell me one thing, and I'll not mention it again." Susan looked into Benjamin's eyes and saw he meant it, and gave a stiff nod. The barber carried on. "What else happened that night? You lied when you said there was nothing else."

Susan was about to say she couldn't remember, but then remembered that he'd probably see she was lying.

"Oh, nothin' really." She said instead, a false airiness surrounding her words. "Albert jus' got a bit uptight 'bout me not getting' pregnant right away. 'E said a few things… but God, that was years ago."

"Did he call you useless?"

Susan stared at Benjamin, wondering how on Earth this man managed to read her mind, or know what she was hiding. After all these years it shouldn't be so easy for him! And yet there he was, fixing her with that penetrating stare of his.

"Yes. 'E did. Now can we forget about it?" She narrowed her eyes dangerously. "You said-"

Susan was cut off as the barber pulled her into a hug. She felt her eyes go wide as Benjamin held her tightly.

"You're not." He whispered into her ear, his breath tickling slightly. "And don't say you didn't believe him."

The redhead didn't respond. Benjamin was right. She had believed Albert when he called her a useless whore… and to be truly honest, she'd never stopped believing it because it was true. Well, maybe she wasn't entirely useless – and she certainly wasn't a whore – but she wasn't good enough for Benjamin. Especially not now.

Unsure how to respond to the gesture, and beginning to feel more than a little overwhelmed, Susan pulled away from the barber, and turned back to the dirty dishes she'd been cleaning.

"Right, now that that's sorted, I've got some cleanin' to finish." She announced abruptly, knowing that she'd probably hurt Benjamin, hating herself for it, and knowing it had to be done. She heard Benjamin moving away, but a minute or so later, a quiet song reached her ears.

"She is my friend

See how she listens

See how she shines

How she smiles in the light

My friend

My faithful friend...

Speak to me, friend

Whisper...

I'll listen

I know, I know you've been locked

Out of sight

All these years, like me

My friend...

Well you've come home to find me waiting

Home, and we're together!

And we'll do wonders...

Won't we?"

Oh, how I wish we could, my friend. Susan thought as she cleaned. Oh, how I wish we could.


A/N: Please review! I noticed I didn't get as many reviews for the last chapter, which was a little disappoitning. Thank you to those people who DID review. Was it because there wasn't a song? Sorry, I couldn't find a way to fit a song into Chapter 2. Anyway, did you know that every time you don't click the lavendar button a baker fails to have a happy ending with a hot singing barber? 'Tis true.