Chapter 11: The "Promise"
Sweeney Todd and Nellie Lovett entered the pie shop, with Nellie still clutching onto Sweeney's left arm as if her life depended on it. Sweeney closed the door (with a good amount of difficulty seeing as though he didn't have either use of his arms thanks to Lovett and Lovett's packaging). He strolled to the booth, threw the items roughly on to table top, and sat Mrs. Lovett down in the seat. She let go of his arm and placed her head in her hands that were now resting on top of the table. But, she wasn't crying, just thinking.
Mr. Todd went to her cabinet and pulled out the rum and two glasses.
"Put it back."
Really? Even with her hands covering her eyes, she was able to tell that Mr. Todd took the rum and not gin out? Damn. Of course he just advanced to the booth with the rum still in hand. She didn't protest again when he started pouring their glasses. Mrs. Lovett picked her head up and eyed the rum in a lost stare as she continued thinking. Mr. Todd sat across from her, rum in hand, and never taking his eyes off of her. Mrs. Lovett took note:
"I'm fine."
"Are you?"
"I jus' thought that the bastard will 'ave left me alone by now. I thought that dinner ended everythin' and it would all be set and done with. Apparently not," she took a swig of the alcoholic beverage.
Sweeney looked at her from across the booth. She didn't look optimistic like usual but neither did she look pessimistic: she was merely indifferent to the whole situation.
"Jus' do me a favor and 'urry up and kill that bloody git before I do."
Sweeney abruptly stood up from where he sat and moved over to Mrs. Lovett. He looked down into her eyes as she looked up at him with a knitted brow and half smile wondering what he wanted.
"Now now, my dear, he is my kill, not yours. I thought you knew that all too well."
Mrs. Lovett started to laugh. She knew not why because there was no tease or mockery in Mr. Todd's voice−he was quite sternly serious. Perhaps as to cajole her tension that the judge caused her nearly minutes ago she started to laugh. Sweeney plopped himself down next her (luckily, Mrs. Lovett scooted to her right or he would have sat on her…again). She turned to face him and before she could register anything at all, he pressed his lips to hers.
Mrs. Lovett, although she was against him kissing her since he did not love her, actually did not object to his kiss. She knew not why, but probably because his kiss was different this time around: this kiss was slow and compassionate as opposed to his other lustful one. In fact, it was quite adorable coming from Sweeney Todd. Mrs. Lovett didn't move an inch: she kept her hands in her lap as Sweeney placed his on either one of her cheeks. Wait, now there's the Mr. Todd she was accustomed to: he pushed a little deeper into her mouth and she allowed his tongue to gain entrance. And although she detested herself for lack of self-control, she let a moan escape from her covered mouth and tongue.
But before that simple kiss turned into something that Mr. Wickham would call "unorthodox for unmarried couples to do," the bell jingled in in popped the man himself!
"Eleanor. I came to drop of your shopping articles from St. Dunstan's, my dear!" He started to the parlour, not even noticing Mrs. Lovett attempting to push Mr. Todd off of her (seeing as though he managed to push her down into the booth as he started up his lustful kisses). She thought she heard Mr. Todd chuckling a bit against her mouth. Finally, she got out of his grasp due to deciding to roll under the table and then scrambled to stand up in the middle of her shop, straightening her dress and patting down her hair and dabbing her smeared lipstick off (most of which was now on/in Sweeney Todd's mouth).
"Over 'ere, John," she called to Wickham who was still in the parlour. "Get out," she whispered to Sweeney. He smirked and actually left (but only because he noticed a man walking upstairs…his first catch of the day was awaiting him).
"Eleanor! Is something the matter, my dear? You seem a bit flustered after our excursion to the market. Everything alright?" He placed her boxes and bags next to the others on the booth's table top very neatly.
"Oh yes, love. I'm fine," she said. Then, another thought struck her head: "John, may I ask if ya are on mutual terms with Judge Turpin?"
"Oh yes, Eleanor. We have been friends since childhood. Is that alright?"
"O' course, dearie. I was jus' wonderin' since he seemed to know ya when we was at the market. Jus' me bein' curious is all," she smiled at him.
"I see. Well Eleanor, 'tis unfortunate, but I must terry away now: another business meeting. Perhaps we can go to dinner sometime next week since I'll be away in Liverpool for the remainder of this week and half of the next, when you aren't busy that is?" He looked rather shy at his question, almost as if he feared her to reject him. Nellie thought about it and then lightened up, her smile ever so widening.
"Sure thing, love. Next Friday at 7 is when I can take a day fer meself."
"I will see you then, Eleanor! I shall miss you greatly! You shall constantly be on my mind! It pains me to leave you for that long, my dear Eleanor, but, duty calls." He tipped his hat and was off. Mrs. Lovett waved him away and began to walk to the side door:
Nellie decided a damn right good talk was in order between her and Sweeney Todd−she jaunted up the stairs to his barber shop. The second she opened the door, however, blood splattered and plastered itself across her face and down her dress.
Sweeney took notice and rushed to drag her in and closed the door swiftly and roughly behind them. He cursed.
"Why the….pff!...fuck did ya make such a literally, bloody mess?!" Mrs. Lovett yelled as she spat blood out of her mouth that she had opened when she walked in. Sweeney ignored her comment and began to lever the body into her bake house and started to clean. She grabbed one of his many rags and began to help him. After a good thirty minutes of cleaning, Nellie spoke up again, remembering why she came upstairs in the first place.
"I thought I told ya not ta kiss me if ya really don't mean it, Mr. Todd," she said dryly. He stopped cleaning the blood stained window and looked at her.
"I will if you stop enjoying it."
"I mean it, ya bastard."
"Fine."
Sweeney mumbled with a slip of disappointment as he turned to cleanse the window again. Yet, Sweeney actually had no intention of doing what Mrs. Lovett asked…why start now?
Nellie had learned at her and Wickham's dinner date that following Friday night at seven that John Wickham frequently took business trips to various cities and ports around England, and even occasionally across the Channel to some towns along France's coast. He was a stock broker and his clients lived throughout the country or out of it so he took the liberty to visit them (seeing as he could afford it).
Dinner was quite casual (not like some judge or other showed up) but it was the loveliest Nellie had been to in quite some time. Actually, it was the greatest dinner date ever! It was quaint and cozy but very romantic with lots of fancy wines that even Nellie couldn't afford (and that's saying something). After they finished eating and Wickham paid their dinner bill, they left with Nellie linking arms with John. They knew not of the time when they arrived back at 186 Fleet Street; however, Sweeney Todd could probably tell them it was half-past midnight.
"Well Eleanor, my dear, I had a lovely time tonight."
"Oh John! 'T'was the best night o'...me…life!" Nellie exclaimed as she almost fell over due to her heavy level of wine in-take that night.
"Mine too. I think you should get to bed: you had a little too much wine," he laughed a bit.
"Well, I 'ad…ta….since ya's weren't drink' none…I 'ad ta….drink fer the both…o' us," Nellie laughed. She wasn't that drunk, she told herself, but everything just seemed a whole lot more laughable to her.
"Good night, Eleanor," John said as he bowed to Nellie. "May I kiss you?"
Nellie stopped her laughing and stared at the gentleman before her: never before had she met such a man, asking her for a mere kiss (whereas some man upstairs just plants them on her without warning or approval), aiding to her when she needed help, and just being the kindest man or even human in this corrupt and sinful world.
"You may."
He leaned in and placed a chaste kiss on her lips. Nellie almost squealed with joy: he was such the gentleman! She leaned in a bit more to prolong the kiss and placed her hands on his chest as he awkwardly placed his arms around her middle back and drew her in closer. He was very gentle and compassionate about the kiss. He pulled away after a good two minutes and released Nellie from his embrace. They stared at each other for a while.
"That was marvelous! Good night then, Eleanor! And may we have many more dates to come."
And John Wickham was gone.
Nellie, still standing in front of her front door, twirled around a few times in pure and childish delight. When her euphoria faded, she opened her door and skipped into her shop. She started for her bedroom.
"Well, well, we are a bit late now, aren't we, Mrs. Lovett?"
Mrs. Lovett spun on her heels to spot Mr. Todd sitting in the booth in her pie shop. Bugger! 'Ow long 'as 'e been there!?
"I am not a child, Mr. Todd. I don't need ya tellin' me 'ow late I can stay out or not. Besides, it's my 'ouse!" She huffed and then turned to go to her room. He got up and started to follow her. Once she got into her room, Sweeney closed the door behind them. Nellie went to her dresser in the vain attempt at getting into her nightgown:
"Stop it, Todd."
"You know, Lovett, you never specified where I wasn't allowed to kiss you."
He had his arms around her in a sort of lock to ensnare her possible escape attempt. His mouth was clasped on her neck. He started to drag her to the bed.
"Fine, Todd, you are not allowed to 'ave your mouth against any part of my body," she teased. He immediately stopped his nipping on her neck and collarbone. But, he kept his tongue out, ensuring that his mouth wouldn't touch her neck, and glided it down her neck.
SMACK!
Sweeney fell onto the bed due to the force of Mrs. Lovett's smack. He was amused as she stood looking at down at him very un-amused.
"That goes for ya tongue as well, prat."
"Fair enough. But…" he got up and grabbed Mrs. Lovett and pushed her onto the bed and got on top of her. "…as I recall, the head is not part of the body."
And he kissed her…again. However, this time, he wasn't initiating a plan to take her mind off of Wickham or any of those failed attempts and stupid ideas. He was merely kissing her because, well, he could.
After a good long while of never faltering (frantically lustful) kisses, Sweeney broke away to see the expression etched on Mrs. Lovett's face: it was just her normal cheery smile.
"When ya gonna stop kissing me then?" She sighed in defeat.
"Never." He started kissing her lips again then stopped to move to her ear: "I love kissing you."
"Oh, so you 'ave…urges?" She teased as she ruffled her hands though his hair (purposely messing it up) as he started up at latching his mouth and tongue to her neck and even further down again.
"Shut up, Nellie."
"Ahh, thinkin' with your…."
"Mrs. Lovett….shut up!"
When Nellie awoke the next morning at about the crack of dawn (thanks to some noisy prostitutes over in a nearby alley), the first thing she noticed was that she was alone. Of course, that bastard Todd always left before she awoke herself. She stretched as she rose from her bed and strolled over to her vanity to start the process of getting dressed. The second thing she noticed in the mirror was a small line of purple marks trailing from just under her jaw all the way until her right breast. They were hardly noticeable. But, (always a but), there was a rather profound "love bite" on her upper right breast. That was noticeable, especially in the dresses she normally wore.
"Damn ya, Todd. Bloody git of a man did it on purpose too I bet…" she muttered to herself. "Well, 'e won't be too thrilled when he (and John) don't see it."
She ruffled through her wardrobe and pulled out a less-revealing-dress. It was an uppercut one that only exposed her collarbone but ensured that it did not show any cleavage with a little ribbon on the front that tied it together in the front rather than the back. She also decided to leave her hair down seeing as though if she wore it to the side, she could cover the trail. She grinned at her triumph and finished getting ready…
"Mornin' love: brought ya some breakfast."
Sweeney grunted in response as he continued to stare off into space at his window pane. Knowing he wouldn't turn around to face her, Mrs. Lovett stood next to him and motioned for him to grab his food rather than merely setting it down like she normally did. He turned to gruffly take it from her. And just as she predicated, Mr. Todd took instant note of her dress (or well, bosom as to where his mark should have been gallivanting itself to the public…and John Wickham).
"What are you wearing?"
"A dress."
He raised his brows and set the tray on his armoire. He faced her again, now with a sly grin. And he then took the ribbon on the front of her dress and twirled it through his fingers as he kept his eyes fixated on hers.
"Since when did you become so, shy, my dear?"
"I'm sure you can guess when, love."
He kept at the laces on her bodice and maintained eye contact with her. Occasionally, he let his fingers purposely and exaggeratedly brush across her chest, out of enjoyment for himself and also to piss her off. And it seemed to be working:
"Ya damn well know that I am currently seeing John Wickham. If 'e were to know all that you 'ave been doin', I daresay that'll start somethin'….stop it."
Todd ignored her aimless chatter and started pushing her back towards his barber chair. He was still having much trouble with the tight laces on her front. Although Mrs. Lovett protested all that Mr. Todd was doing, other than her furious remarks, she didn't lash out or anything of that sort. He pushed her into a sitting position in the chair and bit the lacey ribbon off on her chest that held back her cleavage and his "precious" mark. Luckily for Mrs. Lovett and unluckily for Mr. Todd, all that her now ripped dress exposed was the love bite and a normal amount of her chest that she usually exposed as in all of her other dresses. Sweeney grunted and moved to roughly kiss her lips as he straddled her in the chair. Her hands found their way to secure themselves around his neck as his gripped the back of the chair on either side of her head. One of his legs was still positioned on the floor.
He hit the pedal.
Mrs. Lovett screamed as the chair slid onto its back and straightened out. She was sliding off the chair and into the trap door. Well, she most certainly would have if not for Sweeney's hands being where they were. Even though they were barely hanging onto the barber chair in its deadly reclining position, he still continued to kiss her. And he also started to chuckle quite devilishly at their current predicament. Mrs. Lovett bit his tongue and he tore away. She immediately clasped her hands on his vest to prevent herself from slipping even more.
"Mr. Todd!" She yelled at him.
"Mrs. Lovett," he mocked her as he hit the lever again to proper the chair into its normal state, causing her to slide abruptly back into the chair whilst he fell off of it. That damn sly grin never once left his face.
She stood up fanning out her skirts and "straightened" her hair out. She gave Mr. Todd the most displeased and ferocious glare she could.
But she failed and laughed a bit that more of came out as a snort.
"I hate you."
She started towards the door.
"If that was true, Mrs. Lovett, then maybe I would stop kissing you. But for now, consider that our last kiss. Unless of course…"
She slammed the door and was off to start the day.
Providentially, Nellie remembered the powder Mr. Wickham had given to her to cover her long-gone black eye: she applied it to Sweeney's "very generous" mark (thanks to the bastard, he had ruined her only non-revealing dress since he bit the lace off).
However, that was nearly two months ago…
And Sweeney actually stayed true to his word and not once did he kiss Eleanor Lovett. He even stopped sleeping in her bed for the most part, unless it was a particular chilly evening or he was uncomfortable elsewhere (probably in order to ensure he wouldn't kiss her). Nellie minded his absence, however even though she shouldn't. And so did he.
It was now the end of June.
John Wickham frequented Mrs. Lovett's nearly every day, save some weeks when he had business out of town. He started to bring her flowers−red roses to be more exact−at the start of every week. And he brought her boxes of chocolates at the end of the week for her to devour over the weekend. Every Saturday and Sunday he would then take her out to all the fanciest restaurants London had to offer. In between her lunch and dinner rushes, John would take Nellie on a walk to Hyde Park and sometimes the market. They were becoming quite close.
And Mr. Sweeney Todd could not stand one ounce of it!
But apart from that abhorrent "relationship" that was now dwindling between John I'm-going-to-fucking-kill Wickham and his Eleanor Lovett, everything for Sweeney Todd, Eleanor Lovett, and Tobias Ragg, all of 186 Fleet Street remained all the same. Business was booming for the two per usual. Mrs. Mooney seemed to be put back in her proper place as just some other, second-rate pie shop that "gave the stomach cramps to half the neighborhood." Oh, and still no judge for Sweeney to amass revenge upon.
However, Sweeney did experience something unusual: and that something greatly pissed him off…other than Wickham that is. One of his prized and precious razors was missing. What the fuck? Where did I put it? Did someone steal it? No. No one comes in here whilst I'm not in here. Not even Mrs. Lovett and especially not the boy. Did I drop it in the bake house by accident? No! I'm more careful and precise than that! Those were only some of the thoughts that swarmed in Mr. Todd's unstable mind. But, after maybe a week of looking, questioning, and even interrogation of Lovett and Ragg, Todd gave up. He still had six of his friends left and besides, he really only used one or two and let the others rest. Life could go on without one of his razors by his side…
Two whole months (give or take a few days)…
"Eleanor, I was wondering perhaps if you would like to accompany me on my next business trip to Brighton on Thursday?"
The two seemingly romantic couple of John and Nellie were walking in Hyde Park, arm-in-arm. She stopped dead in her tracks.
"B-B-Brighton?"
"Yes. Is something the matter, my dear?"
"Brighton is…by…by the sea," she stuttered, not believing what she was hearing.
"Of course, darling. Isn't that where you always wanted to go? You told me that when we first met," he smiled at her.
"R-really?" She still couldn't believe. Was one her dreams finally coming true?
"Yes. I thought that since my next trip was in Brighton, and how you've always desired to see the seaside again, I thought it would nice to invite you. It would make me profoundly happy and I hope it will make you happy, as well." He continued to smile at her.
"Y-ye….Yes!" Nellie threw her arms around his neck, pecked his cheek a few times and started to dance around out of pure joy! He twirled her around a few times and gave her a long kiss on the lips.
"Well, I shall pick you up Thursday morning with horse and buggy! And then, it's off to Brighton for two weeks!"
When Nellie arrived home to 186, she burst through the door to her shop in song! Never before had she experienced full bliss and happiness. And what matters even more perfect other than finally going to the sea again, Thursday was only a day away with it being Tuesday today: only one day to wait. And all good things come to those who wait…
"Bugger. The shop…the boy…the damn barber…"
Nellie stopped her little dance of happiness at those thoughts. If she were to be on leave for two weeks, her customers would truly be getting unruly if there were no world famous meat pies for them to devour for two whole weeks. But, they could wait just as she had. And Toby, well, the lad could surely use a break and two weeks will be plenty for him to relish and relax doing whatever for that long.
But Mr. Todd…well, the bastard would be slaughtering and barbering of course, that was for sure. Yet, the bodies would inevitably pile up since Mrs. Lovett wouldn't be there to chop them into pies. Well, Mr. Todd could surely do it himself or put his killings on hold for two weeks.
It didn't matter to her: Eleanor Lovett was going to the seaside with John Wickham and that was that.
Wrong…oh, she was wrong...
Wednesday had come and gone with the rushes, the last two lunch and dinner rushes Mrs. Lovett and Toby would be attending to for the next two weeks. Toby was busy cleaning everything down after dinner and Mrs. Lovett had just finished packing. Now, she had to tell Sweeney Todd where she was going to be for the following two weeks. She knew not why, but she had put off telling him until tonight. Tonight being the last possible chance she would get to tell him. Oh, procrastination is a virtue…
"Mr. T, can I speak ta ya for a second?" Mrs. Lovett asked Mr. Todd as she stepped into his parlour and closed the door behind her. He was standing by the stove pouring the tea she had brought up before the dinner rush had commenced.
"Do I have a choice?" She ignored his smart response and spoke anyway.
"I am going to be 'eading to Brighton fer the next two weeks with Mr. Wickham and thought ya should know. So don't be killin' any more unless you plan on clearing up the evidence."
She wasn't exactly asking his permission to go (why would she?). But the way she spoke those lines, it certainly seemed that way.
"No." He turned to face her and put the kettle back down and advanced her, slowly backing her into the door.
"No?" She exasperated.
"Exactly, my love."
"That's nice, dear. But I'll be going to the sea with John no matter what ya say," she said sternly with her hands on her hips.
"I forbid it."
"Ya forbid it? Ha! Don't make me laugh, Mr. Todd! You can't tell me what ta do!" She laughed.
"I can and I will. You are not to go to Brighton with Wickham and that's final," Sweeney yelled.
Mrs. Lovett glared daggers at him. In fact, she was about to lose her temper with him. Sweeney seemed to be doing the same thing.
"Why not!?"
"Because, you have only known that man for two months and now, he is taking you to Brighton of all places?! Besides he knows the fucking judge!"
"As do I, Mr. Todd and as do you!" Mrs. Lovett bellowed as Mr. Todd merely continued:
" No. I don't care if Brighton is a seaside town, and I especially don't care what you think or feel of Wickham, but I don't trust that town and especially don't trust that man. Therefore, you are not going." He had her backed into the door and had his hands on either side of her head. He bore into her eyes. She looked as though she was about to cry.
No. Instead, Mrs. Lovett leaned forward, put her hands on his face, and kissed him on the lips. Sweeney was instantly taken aback and even took a step back instead. He decided though to wrap his arms around her waist as she led him across the room and backed him into the wall. Before Sweeney could deepen the kiss, Mrs. Lovett broke away.
"Consider that our last kiss, Sweeney Todd. I'll sea ya in two weeks." She kneed him in his groin to distract him as she bolted out of his shop and down into the bake house to dispose of his damn evidence before she went to bed.
Nothing was going to stand in her way of her dream to go to the sea. Even the man she loved, Sweeney Todd. No. He was the obstacle that hindered her dream and he wasn't down and out yet…
Mrs. Lovett had just begun hacking away at a rather plump corpse when the bake house door creaked open to reveal Sweeney Todd. He looked rather pissed.
"You, Nellie Lovett, are not going to Brighton with that man, and that's then end of it. I'll see you in the morning," he turned to leave.
Sweeney closed the bake house door behind him and locked Mrs. Lovett in.
CLANK!
"Wot are ya doin', Todd! Let me out!" She screamed through the closed iron wrought door after she had thrown the cleaver at it…well, at Sweeney more likely.
"Just taking precautions, my pet."
He wanted to laugh at her but found it inappropriate. They were not initiating a game like they used to before Wickham came into their lives. No. He was angry at her for even thinking she was going away with that bastard of a man and angry at the bastard himself for attempting to whisk away Sweeney's Lovett. Sure, he had just crushed her dream. But he deemed it worth it and necessary. Something was off about Wickham even though Sweeney couldn't exactly place what was off. In his eyes, Mrs. Lovett was safe, even though he knew not what from or even why. Maybe he was merely jealous, but, oh well.
Now, Sweeney had to tell Wickham himself Mrs. Lovett was not going to Brighton. That would be easy.
And he did just that.
Wickham was very displeased.
"I am very….sorry…Mr. Wickham, but Mrs. Lovett has worked herself into….a fever," Sweeney muttered to Mr. Wickham after he had managed to locate his house (he had at one point walked Mrs. Lovett there for one of her dates). Well, fever rhymes with cleaver, and it is rather hot in the bake house so…
"Oh, that is a downright shame, Mr. Todd. But surely she'll recover soon. I was so looking forward to our excursion to the sea," Wickham sighed.
"Indeed it is. She just wanted me to let you know," he lied and then turned away to leave.
Meanwhile, Nellie was locked in her own bake house. After she had heard Sweeney's footsteps fade away, she fell to her knees on the stone cold floor and began to sob furiously.
"Damn ya…Todd," she sniffled in between sobs. "I hate you."
She didn't mean it; how could she? She was too much in love with him to hate him. She could say it all she wanted, but it was just meaningless words that had no essence. She hated herself for loving him. She hated the fact that one of her dreams was ruined by the other.
She knew crying never solved anything but also knew she couldn't stop now that she was so worked up. Yet, she drew herself up, picked up the newly dent cleaver, and went back to the work table with that fat cadaver still on it. She didn't precisely cut the body according to how she normally would when she was going to bake it into a pie. No. She brought the cleaver down and began to psychotically chop it into mincemeat. Blood splattered everywhere and soaked Nellie head to foot. Blood and tears mixed on her distraught and lunatic-like face.
How fortuitous…there were still four bodies left…
Nellie heard a click and turned her head in the direction of the door.
"You are free to leave the bake house now, Mrs. Lovett."
She threw the cleaver at him once more with much force and velocity that she didn't even know she possessed. Sweeney dodged it, but only just: it grazed his right cheek and lodged itself in one of the stairs behind him. The cut now embedded on his face started to trickle down his cheek. That was new−it wasn't usually his blood that ended up on his face.
Mrs. Lovett ran out of the bake house amidst Mr. Todd's distraction of his own blood. She ran straight to her room and started crying again.
It had been a full week without talking. For the majority, Mrs. Lovett kept to her room unless she needed to use the washroom or sneak into the kitchen for some sustenance (which she only did once a day and hardly ate anything at all). Today, she managed to evade Toby and Todd and went out for a breather to St. Dunstan's. She almost considered renting a carriage and heading to Brighton herself, but alas, she would have to go back to Fleet Street for her money and luggage and surely the boys would have spotted her. She hadn't intended to ignore Toby but it seemed to end up that way. He eventually got the gist and gave up forcing her to talk; yet, he would still hover around her the second she opened her door, the rare occasion that was. Sweeney Todd, on the other hand, seemed to become a regular in her parlour which her bedroom door had the unfortunate to be placed against. Occasionally, when he wasn't peering at her door, Mrs. Lovett would throw one of her knick-knacks from her room at him and then retreat back into her room and locked the door behind her. He would then attempt to get into her room but to no avail. He couldn't even get in there at night like he used to.
"Nellie…"
She stopped dead in her tracks. She swore rather profusely in her head at his voice. Just when she thought he was out of her hair, there he was in front of her.
"Go. Away." Those were her first words that week. She turned around to walk the opposite way when Sweeney grabbed her wrist. She gave him a contemptuous scowl.
"I'm sorry."
"No you ain't."
He moved his grip on her wrist to hold her hand and started to drag her back home. She didn't protest due to his strength.
Sweeney sat her down in the middle of the sofa when they arrived back in her parlour at 186 Fleet Street. She let her head droop and then he kneeled in front of her and placed his hands on either of her knees. That caused her to look into his eyes.
"I'm sorry," he repeated (and tried to make himself sound even more sincere even though he wasn't actually sorry).
"…"
"Look, I didn't want you to go because I was….jealous," he whispered that last part.
"What was that, dear?" She heard him.
"I'm jealous, alright!" He averted his gaze and started to stare meaninglessly into the unlit hearth of the fireplace.
"Well, that's nice, love. But that still don't give ya no right to lock me in the bake 'ouse or "forbid" me from goin' with John." She almost started to cry again for the mere thought of not going again, but she held her tears at bay.
"Fine."
"That's it? Well, I see no more reason ta talk ta ya then!" That man was so irritating! And bloody well confusing! Mrs. Lovett made her way to stand up in order to retreat back to her room but Sweeney's grip on her knees tightened so she remained on the sofa. Bastard…
"Wait. I wasn't finished…" he seemed reluctant to go on. In truth, although he would never admit it to her let alone himself, he desperately wanted to make amends with her.
"Go on then." She was quite curious as to what that bastard was thinking.
"I will be the one to take you to the sea…not Wickham. He has no right to be doing that. Only I can take you there. You got that, Mrs. Lovett?"
Mrs. Lovett was about to cry: but not out of tears of sorrow but out of tears of pure happiness.
"W-w-what?"
"You heard me, woman."
"Ya promise?" She stuttered as a few tears escaped.
"Sweeney Todd doesn't make promises. That is something Benjamin Barker did. No. Sweeney Todd makes threats," he half-heartedly joked. "No. I threaten that I will take you to the sea."
"R-r-really?"
"Of course, my love. But only after my revenge is complete. After that though, I threaten to take you to the sea either for a visit or we can live there. Whatever you want."
She put her hand on his right cheek. It was then that she noticed there was a long cut: a cut that her cleaver had make about a week ago. She traced its length with her finger.
"I'm sorry…I didn't mean to, Mr. T."
"Yes you did. But I deserved it," Sweeney chuckled a bit. "It was quite funny."
Later that very same evening, it being another Thursday literally a week after she should have been at Brighton with Mr. John Wickham, Nellie Lovett found herself in her bake house "disposing" of Mr. Todd's "customers." There were only two probably due to the fact that Sweeney spent most of the day with Mrs. Lovett on the sofa until she opened only for the dinner rush and that's when he had made his kills. Anyway, Nellie had just finished putting the meat into the grinder for tomorrow morning when she heard the bake house door open.
"Toby! I told ya, ya ain't allowed down 'ere!" She was slightly panicking but only slightly: there was nothing down there as of now that would give her away; there were no apparent corpses, the bones were all in bags out of sight, and the blood would quickly be regarded as animal blood and not human. Yet, she still fretted out of habit more than anything.
However, it was not Tobias Ragg who entered that godforsaken bake house. And nor was at Sweeney Todd on one of his rare ventures down there. No.
It was John Wickham…
"John! Ya nearly put me off my rocker! What are you doin' back so soon?" Nellie exasperated. She was glad it was him and not Toby. Wait! No she wasn't! It was just as bad for him to be there now as it would have been for the lad. Nellie quickly composed her practicality. "Let's get upstairs then and we can 'ave a nice cuppa tea."
She started to walk forwards but he closed the door behind him to where it wasn't exactly closed all the way but just enough to get his point across.
"John?"
He ignored her and stepped forward with a glint in his eyes that Nellie would instantly deem foreign to John Wickham. It was a glint no different than the one Sweeney Todd gave to his customers before he silenced them for eternity.
Oh fuck...a cliff-hanger! I don't have time for much AN's but THANK YOU ALL TO REVIEWING! I just wanted to hurry and finish this and get it up but now I gotta go!