Chapter Nine
..As usual, he'd just stay in his shop and brood. He would carry on living, while she withered away in her memories. And indeed he did…
Seated yet again at the familiar fountain, Mrs. Lovett stared into the rippling water, her mind once again in another world. Peering into the coolness of the liquid, she hardly noticed as a small boy approached her.
"Excuse me ma'am?" the very shy voice questioned.
The woman jumped a little, startled by the boy.
"What is it dearie?" she said wearily, not bothering to face the child.
"I'm looking for…" he trailed off, as the baker turned to face him, "oh! Mum!"
"Toby? What are ya doin' out 'ere?! It's after twelve!"
She had missed him in the morning, and when he had not returned she'd been lonely, a cheery face was always needed in the shop, and today especially was in need of cheering.
"I missed ya today at the shop, where 'av ya bin?"
"Well," he begun, "Mr.T sent me to deliver something to the sailor boy, an' I figured, well, seeing as you wasn't up, I could stay out for a while. I came back for lunch, but the shop was closed so I stayed out some more. Sorry mum," he looked at her apologetically.
"It's alright dear, we was closed most the day. Me poor bones needed a good ol' rest."
"And you wasn't home when I got back, around ten, so I came out 'ere, to look for ya."
"Oh, well I just came out 'ere for some fresh air, must 'av forgotten the time, jus' like you."
The boy stayed silent, wanting, but not daring, to question her. He studied his adoptive mothers face, she looked tired. Very tired. Her hair was even more disarrayed than usual and her eyes were swollen and red. He could make out the tear streaks glittering on her pale cheeks.
"Mum, you alright?"
The baker, suddenly realising how terrible her appearance must be, turned away for the boy.
"Yes love, I'm fine. Jus' came out for a walk is all."
Toby wasn't convinced, but he trusted her more than anything.
"Oh."
She turned back to him, flashing a quick smile.
"Mum?"
"Hmm?"
"It's just…'e didn't 'urt ya did 'e?"
He'd wanted to know the real answer to that question hundreds of times, but he knew well enough that she would never confess, even if he did hurt her. And he didn't have the heart to doubt her.
Toby didn't understand why she wouldn't tell him, or why his mum continued to wait on Mr. Todd, but he had decided long ago that it wasn't worth asking her about it, and it certainly wasn't worth troubling Mr. Todd about.
"Goodness no! Dear me, 'ow can you think such a thing!?" she lied efficiently, hoping her voice wouldn't give way to the choked back tears threatening to spill at any moment.
"Sorry mum," he mumbled.
"Now, why don't you head on home then, an' get some rest, 'stead of 'anging 'round 'ere like a lost duck?"
"But you-"
"I'll be back by mornin' love, I just need some time alone alrigh'?"
"Alright mum," he said turning away from her and starting his journey home.
The baker sighed heavily as soon as his back was turned. Toby quickly retraced his steps, flinging his arms around his beloved guardian in a loving hug.
"I love you mum," he said quietly, wishing he could somehow lessen her not-so-effectively hidden pain.
"I know love," she said, her voice straining against the threatened tears, "you too, now run along!"
Toby gave his beloved mother a tight squeeze before jumping down from the fountain and running down the street, eager for the slight warmth of the sofa he called his bed.
As soon as the boy was out of sight, she let herself be overcome by her emotions. She sobbed, shaking violently; God, what was wrong with her? She felt awful, her mind vivid with the events of the evening. Her beloved barber, who had caused such events, was just as engaged in his thoughts.
Mr. Todd sat, unmoving, on the cold, hard floor. He was frozen, unable to move from his rather uncomfortable position, to his slightly more comfortable barber chair. He clenched his teeth, trying desperately not to shiver from the cold. He stared at the wall, his eyes burning holes in the peeling wallpaper. His expression was blank and unchanging, but his eyes flashed with lightning strikes of anger. His mind was racing, jumping from each painful thought to the next; Lucy- Judge- Lucy- Johanna- Judge- Beadle- Lucy- Beadle- Judge- Johanna- Mrs. Lovett-. He gritted his teeth at the thought of her. How dare she impose on his personal boundaries, she knew the rules. How dare she even think he needed her, he shuddered; or wanted her. If she wasn't so damn practical he would have done her off a long time ago. How dare she try to become, replace, his Lucy; his dear, sweet, innocent Lucy.
Your dear, sweet, dead Lucy.
He shook this thought off. She was not dead. She still lived as long as he did; he would keep her alive. Mrs. Lovett was always reminding him that his wife was gone, and each time, he wanted nothing more that to slit her throat wide open. But he refrained from doing so. She was his business partner, and he couldn't do without her. But that was all she was. She couldn't replace Lucy, ever. How dare she even chance to dream such a thing. She couldn't heal him. She couldn't mend his severed heart. She couldn't even touch his heart, let alone undo the many knots which had formed in it over the years. No, it was only to be touched by Lucy, and now, with her undeniably gone, it was damned to remain irreparably broken; cursed to beat forever on its own.
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