Tales Of Another Beating Heart
7. With You I'm Sadness, Without You I'm Happiness
"Please Sir, sit... sit!"
Sweeney hovered behind his arch enemy, flashing him a murderous glare while he was turned away from him.
He hated him. He shivered, thinking of what he did to all the women who happened to pass his cosy little abode. And one of them happened to be Lucy. The bastard! His smarmy smiles and perverse manner made his blood boil over, anger already making his fingers tense and form sharp claws.
The judge sat in the chair, smiling and humming happily.
'He won't be happy for long. And he certainly won't be humming at all now that I've got him...'
Sweeney draped the large cloth over him, almost grinning insanely but managing to hold it back into a polite every-day-looking one. Oh he hated the man! He was so tempted to just beat the man up until he started to spit blood and then finish him with his trusty silver friend - but that would be a little too quick. He wanted this to last.
He walked around to the front of the chair.
The barber's fingers cupped around the small pot of shaving foam, the other hand grasping a brush covered in the white substance.
He paused looking at the judge, at how venerable he was at that moment. His throat was showing... his eyes were closed... he was trusting the man with the razors... still Sweeney carried on and brushed the foam across the judge's stubbly face.
He crept around the 'honourable' man, placing the pot and brush back on his desk, lighting a candle as the lighting had dimmed significantly, Sweeney smirked, knowing that in a few more minutes the judge would be no more - it was too exhilarating!
"Do hurry up Mr Todd; I have a lady awaiting my return for the ball I am holding this evening."
Sweeney scowls, narrows his eyes, unsheathes his razor, listens to his razor and creeps behind his enemy slowly.
"A lady, Sir?" he breathes, asking politely. "Isn't she a lucky one?"
The judge chuckles; shutting his eyes and regaining his venerability once again.
"I had another lucky one sometime ago. She didn't take to me as much as this pretty woman." he says proudly, and sticks his chin out, helping his barber reach his throat, and helping himself reach his own death.
"And Sir, may I ask the maiden's name?"
The judge fidgets uncomfortably for a moment, but doesn't open his eyes to look at the burning flames in the blackness of his barber's eyes.
"I think she was Lily? No. Lola? I cannot recall the little lady's name. I wish I could. But it was that long ago I cannot remember."
Sweeney approaches him, angling his razor above the man's throat. More anger and itching pulsates frantically through his veins and arteries, a rushed flooding of murder driving him to kill, dump, run. How could he forget the name of the woman he raped and drove to suicide? He was an abomination! He had no reason whatsoever to live! He needed to die. He needed to die! Now, he was venerable enough. Yes now, now was the time.
"Perhaps a face like mine would jog your mem... "
The bell rings out suddenly, making the judge's eyes open and Sweeney shoot an annoyed glare towards the disturbance.
"'Scuse me Sir... oh. Sorry are ya busy? I jus' brought some gin up... Mum said you mighta wanted some."
"Yes Toby. I am busy. And I am sure Mrs Todd knows that very well too. Now leave the gin on the desk and get out. As you can see, I have a client." he snapped, gripping his razor that little bit harder, making the pours of sweat from his hand drip furiously and create a super slip surface.
The young boy did as the barber asked; making his actions good, quick and easily stoppable. He scarpered after he'd done everything, careful not to slam the door after him.
"Bloody boy..." he muttered, turning his knife-like stare onto the judge, who was frowning impatiently, yet his eyes were closed again.
"Get on with it Mr Todd."
'Finish it. Now. Just do it. Stick your friend in and see his face wince with pain... the same amount as you've experienced only from him it comes all at once...'
He slides his razor over his throat, shaving the foam away from his chin. He's building it up, so the judge actually thinks he is just getting a shave... it is working so far...
He pauses after the sixth swipe, catching a dark moving shadow in the mirror in his peripheral vision.
Was that? No. They wouldn't... she couldn't... he was imagining it.
He shakes his head and glances at the judge, feeling the crazy itch growing even more.
He slides the razor over the foam again, just having the itch to dig it into the rapist's neck and kill him - kill him - kill him...
He can feel something or someone watching him and pauses and turns away from his enemy for a second. No one is seen.
He carries on, wondering who or what was watching him... he knows that some sorts of eyes are observing his work... alas he carries on.
"I never caught your last lucky lady's name..."
The judge's breath catches and he coughs slightly. "I cannot recall."
"Was it Lucy?"
"Lucy... I... Lucy? Yes. Yes that was it. Pretty little woman she was. How did you know that was her name?"
"I suppose the face of a barber - the face of a prisoner in the dock- is not particularly memorable."
The judge hesitates before he opens his eyes. Then he gasps.
"Benjamin Barker."
Sweeney raises his razor and walks in front of the judge, his intensely black eyes gripping the horror and making it last in his enemy's eyes. He nods slightly.
"BENJAMIN BARKER!" he shouts, pushing his friend into the judge's neck repeatedly, blood spurting out of the victim's neck; he starts raising his foot over the pedal next to the chair, ready to slam his shoe down and send the judge downstairs to his rightful place - hell.
He stabs him, stabs him again, and again, and again until he is ready to press his foot down onto the step of fate... this is it... the judge dead forever...
"NO! 'E AIN'T DEAD YET!"
Sweeney swivelled around, noticing a familiar hourglass figure in the shadows, it took him a while to realise that it was hurling towards him to rugby tackle him down.
It hadn't been his imagination.
She had been there all of the time. In the shadows. Watching him.
Sweeney hit the floor with a loud thud, his razor falling out of his hand and laying next to him.
Nellie rushed over to his friend, picking it up carefully. He moaned, partly from the pain in his right side from where she'd tackled him and partly because he didn't want her to touch his precious razors...
"Hush now, love. I swear I'm only gonna finish 'im off. I'll return your precious one when I'm done." she said truthfully, scrambling over to the almost dead judge slouching in the barber chair.
He sighed and felt his head spin around and then he could feel his vision gradually fading out...
He could just reach an arm out in front of him... but his eyelids were drooping... he was feeling drowsy... slightly faint... he needed to get to Nellie... his head had a huge migraine...
His throat was suddenly dry and uncooperative. He needed to call her... he could see her holding his razor in front of him, circling the barber chair and hissing words that were inaudible from where he had been struck down. He opened his mouth, feeling confident that he could speak at least one last word...
She turned to him suddenly, wide eyed with concern and he could see her, looking like she was fading into a black abyss mouthing the words 'Sweeney, I love you'...
... he could feel the last bit of moisture cover his throat, making his voice box cooperate for one last time and with that one last word he could choose, he said:
"Nellie..."
His head whirled and his eyelids dropped. His breathing cut short and a serious silence fell into his ear drums.
Was he dead? Or just unconscious?
"Sweeney, love. Darlin', please get up! The coach'll be arrivin' soon!"
Sweeney winced, feeling bruised and battered but then feeling cared for when he felt a soft warm mattress underneath him.
He stirred and gradually opened his eyes.
"'Ello love. You feelin' alright?"
"Where am I?" he asked, looking around and only briefly recognising the room, then it clicked when he saw Nellie sitting on the edge of the bed, in another new flattering dress.
He sat bolt upright, ignoring the agonising pain in the whole of the right side of his body.
"Shit! The judge! We have to dispose of 'is body... agh!" He winced as more pain stabbed into his right side, the feel of torturous pins in his side wasn't something he enjoyed whilst being in the middle of being a murderer. Nellie hushed him and helped him lie back down.
"No, no, no! You lay back down. I told y'last night. I've got rid of 'im for ya. Now relax the coach'll be comin' soo - "
"I'll need t'pack... "
He rushed back up into a sitting position again, desperate to keep himself busy.
"Done it."
He stopped and frowned at Nellie, what was she playing at? Going around killing his enemies and then doing his packing? How did she know what he wanted in his luggage?
"Did you put the pictures of Lucy and Johanna in?"
She sighed heavily and nodded, annoyed than he had lied to her about never mentioning them again.
"Take them out, I can't do it, because as you can see, I'm slightly disabled this morning."
"Why?"
"'Cause you tackled me down last night. You should join a rugby team or somethin'."
"Yeah I know sorry about that. But what I meant was... why? Why do y'want me to take the pictures out?"
"The frames are too heavy."
"They aren't - "
"They are Nell."
"They're not."
"They are."
She knew he was lying. Even she could lift them easily with a few fingers. But she knew that deep down he was only saying it because he was trying to hide the fact he wanted to start again. She supposed he was really grumpy with her - after all, she had badly hurt him and she'd be pissed off if someone had tackled her down to the ground in the middle of the night.
She sighed, feeling bad for ruining his revenge and got up off the bed, walking over to her bedroom door.
"Thank you."
She stopped, poising her hand over the metal door knob.
She did not turn.
"For what?"
"For stopping me letting that bastard live."
She turned at that, feeling tears well up in her tear ducts, opening her mouth to say something but closing it again when she could hear the loud noise of the carriage and horses from outside.
"I'll jus' go an' get rid o' those pictures for ya shall I?"
She turned and opened the door, leaving a confused and hopeless feeling Sweeney alone.
He sat up, sighing heavily.
He was grumpy again. The judge was dead. That was that. He was free now. He did Lucy justice and now he was free to give his heart to Nellie, properly.
"I'm such a shit. I've just let her think I hate her again." he whispered, frowning and putting his head in his hands and suddenly feeling the ashamed tears fall down his cheeks.
The door opened and small footsteps entered, clearly it was Toby because he had the smallest and lightest feet in the household.
He cleared his throat.
"Mr Todd?"
Sweeney hesitated. He was crying. Could he show Toby that the scary man who had always been in control of him, was crying?
He sighed. He was family now, wasn't he? He would understand.
He sniffed and looked up, taking his head away from his cupped hands.
"Are ya crying? Oh god! You alright? Mum said you was 'urt! Should I go an' get her Mr Todd?"
Sweeney shook his head, he motioned for him to come and sit next to him with his non-bruised arm.
"Listen Toby, I've been terrible to you and your Mum in the past - "
"That's true."
Sweeney frowned (the tears had seemed to dry immediately) and Toby shut up, knowing what he was trying to say was important.
"And now I'm married to your mother, I can see why you love her so much. So, we've decided to make a family, and that family will include you. That's why we've decided to move away from London... "
Toby frowned, confused and not seeing what Mr Todd was trying to tell him.
"Mum says we're only goin' for an 'oliday."
Sweeney stared at him with a blank expression. Lie. He needed to think of a lie fast!
"We are. A very long one."
"But wouldn't that be like livin' there?"
"Yes. Exactly like living there."
"Are we gonna be a family?"
Sweeney nodded managing a smile.
Toby looked at him, straight in the eyes, feeling that it was the right moment, and then seeing that there was nothing to be afraid of. He'd never looked Mr Todd straight in the eyes before, but now he had done, he could see honesty and care in them. He could see him being in a house with his Mum.
He swallowed, suddenly finding the courage to ask him the question that had troubled him from the first day he'd heard that his Mum was getting married to him.
"So, d-does this m-mean that you're my... um... "
Sweeney could sense what his next word was going to be and felt strangely glad that he would say it.
"...that you're my f-father?"
He smirked and nodded.
"Well...Mum says we 'ave to um... 'urry up before weather gets bad... Mr... Dad... "
Sweeney's stare softened and secretly his heart was melting inside. He had a son. He smiled and ruffled Toby's brown hair.
"Tell y'Mum that I'll be out in a minute, and tell 'er I'm not getting anythin' that was the Barkers'."
Toby nodded, remembering the message although he didn't fully understand it.
"See ya soon Dad!" he squealed happily, skipping excitedly to the door, happy now that he had two parents to care for him.
Sweeney smiled again, sitting up and swivelling his legs over from the bed.
This was it.
This was the start of his new life.
This was the start of his new family.
And soon he would say goodbye to London forever.
And soon he would arrive at his new home, with his new wife and his new son.
The new life couldn't have started better.
Now was the time for him to have the time of his life.
