There was no satisfaction in the knowledge that at any moment, he could let his razor slip and slit the Judge's throat at any moment. Even the slightest nick would have relieved him, he expected, but he was denied the opportunity if he was to play his part accordingly.
He maintained a steady ignorance as he saw her enter the room. As if she wasn't even there. Don't raise suspicions. Lucy seemed to keep the same interests in mind and did not look at the barber as she took a seat opposing the two, watching with a careful eye. The Judge seemed to notice but did not move, without much care. He expected her to speak at some point or another and would acknowledge her at that moment, and that moment only.
It was an unsettling silence in the room, awkward only for those who understood truly what thoughts were flying through the other's mind, even if they did not realise it themselves. Finally, Sweeney's temptations caught the better of him and he glanced up, suddenly caught in the grip of the deepest blue eyes he had found himself unable to stare at for so long. Lucy looked at him with quite the same awe; it couldn't be, but it is. Her nightmares had told her she had only been dreaming. None of this was real.
"I don't suppose that my husband has thanked you for returning, has he?" Lucy said finally, her voice too light, too natural. "I think I will take it upon myself to do it on his behalf."
"Thank you, ma'am," Sweeney replied, his voice too composed, too structured. "But I am sure you will understand I am not here for the gratitude."
"Ah, so few men admit it!" the Judge said proudly, smiling to himself. "I never could do with these men going by with nobility on their lips with nothing more than thirst for a man's money. Nobility is in admitting that thirst."
"From what I have heard you are a new visitor to the city," Lucy continued, ignoring her husband's remark. "Roseanne had not seen you about since those few weeks ago. Might I ask how long you plan to stay?"
"Until I die, I suppose." He noticed the way that Lucy's shoulders become tense at this, her lips trembling. "After all, I have a family of my own to care for."
At this, Lucy straightened, her lips pressed together firmly and a thin film of tears threatening to fall.
"You do, do you?"
"I say a family... a daughter, to be correct."
"Only... only a daughter?"
"My wife had gone long ago," he replied, looking away again from Lucy, unable to see her reaction to his words. "I never remarried."
"You say that so judgingly, I don't suppose she would have judged-"
"I would have judged myself, ma'am, for I haven't that ability in me."
Upon hearing this, Lucy rose, biting her lip to halt her words. She looked briefly at the Judge who seemed unaware of any angst and walked from the room briskly, a shuddering sigh audible as she did so. Mr Todd did not look at her as she left. It would only be more painful than he could allow.
It had struck him as odd after that time that it had been quite some time since he had seen Roseanne, she having disappeared from the house. When he enquired the issue, tentative of having to do so at all, the Judge seemed unaware of any strangeness to the question and answered quite simply.
"I've sent her into town with one of my work associates. She does so love it that I couldn't possibly refuse the idea."
"This would be the town's beadle, if I might ask, sir?"
"Indeed it is."
"She was accompanied by him on her first encounter," Sweeney explained, though no question had been asked and no one cared for the answer. The silence allowed Sweeney to think on his situation, his hand still threatening to instil a life of its own and slice the throat that it wavered above. He only needed that one chance…
The opportunity was missed.
"I must say, Mr Todd, I am quite impressed with your work," the Judge said, the words praising but the tone nothing more than bored. "I shall thoroughly recommend you."
"Thank you for the honour, sir," he replied, bowing his head. The Judge seemed reluctant to say anything else and simply nodded, taking his leave from the room. The assumption that the barber would show himself out was taken for granted and left Sweeney slightly dizzy with the blunt rudeness. However, he could not deny he preferred his position in such a manner and took his leave.
The front door seemed so close when he felt a hand grab hold of his shoulder, pulling him aside. Sweeney did not bother to turn immediately, knowing full well to whom that small hand belonged.
"Then she's alright?" Lucy asked fervently. "Johanna's alright?"
"Johanna is fine," he affirmed. Lucy sighed shakily, smiling.
"That's all I could have asked for. But please, I must know more- tell me, is there anything else to know? Is there anything at all?"
"I have missed as much as you over the years; I am unlikely to know anything." There was a sudden despondence in Lucy's eyes that he could not bear. He sighed and reluctantly continued. "She's the spitting image of you, I'll admit it."
"You think so?"
"Albeit the difference in her hair. Mrs Lovett had enough sense to collect some dyes to solve that."
"I knew I'd left her in good hands," she murmured softly, smiling to herself. There was a hesitant pause before Sweeney allowed himself to continue.
"It seems that our daughter had also caught the eye of what seems to be our young friend," he said, his lips threatening to smile at the thought.
"Our?"
"I've heard tell that you've become accustomed to a young Anthony Hope's presence?"
Lucy paused for a moment, the shock bringing her eyes up towards his and widening them to a point of childish curiosity. Her smile had become more hesitant, almost disappearing as she registered the idea.
"Small world," she said finally, tilting her head, though refusing to let her gaze leave Sweeney's.
"Isn't it just."
"Now I fear you must go," Lucy began heatedly, her anxiety getting the better of her voice. She put her hands on the barber's and pushed him further towards the door. "I fear if you stay here a moment longer either he will find us or I will have lost the will to stay a moment longer apart from you."
"And why must we remain apart?" This was asked in a moment of mild rage and selfishness, but he could not say he regretted saying it. Lucy bit her lip and shook her head, still pushing him away.
"You will come back; your business is far too good for him to refuse it. Please, wait until then."
Sweeney was unable to refuse this as he found himself finally pushed from the house and left outside, the door closed before he could register the fact. He stared dumbly at the house for a moment, unable to move and unable to stand the idea of leaving. Despite any form of honour he had tried to display wrongly in front of his daughter, he could not help but feel the desperation and selfishness of an infant thinking of where his Lucy was and where she was meant to be.
The rain was unbelievably horrendous that day. It was unexpected, as well, considering the unseasonable warmth that had engulfed the city in the past week. Anthony took it in his stride, though, ignoring the shower that half-drowned him as he entered the shop. He shook his head and let the rain water splatter to the floor, catching the walls and window.
"I just cleaned that," Nellie murmured, batting the boy with the cloth in her hand. Anthony smiled sheepishly and ran his hand through his hair, attempting to drain the last of the water and wiped his hand lazily on his coat.
"Sorry, ma'am," he said, still grinning. "Is Johanna in?"
Nellie's face softened and she smiled in return, nodding towards the door leading into the parlour.
"In there, love."
Anthony waved his hand in gratitude and walked with an excitement that bordered on childish, much to Nellie's ill-disguised amusement. She returned her attention to the now considerably muddier window and sighed, scrubbing away just like before.
Johanna was sat on the floor with Toby leaning neatly with his head in her lap, looking up as she read from a small book, some collection of poems that Anthony could neither bother to investigate nor cared to do. He cleared his throat slightly with little reaction from Toby other than a lazy turn of the head and causing a sharp look from Johanna who smiled quite quickly upon recognising the figure.
"If you like, I could fetch you a towel before you try and sit down on our seats?"
"I hadn't exactly planned to sit."
"Then stand if you have to, but you'll have a long enough wait. Toby here wanted to listen to some-"
"Come on, now, can't you think of anywhere more exciting to read poetry? It was meant for the outdoors."
"It's raining," Johanna pointed out.
"So?"
"So I don't feel like drowning."
"When was the last time you went out in the rain, hm?"
The point was taken as meaningless, but a good one. Johanna bit her lip and handed the book to Toby, smiling apologetically.
"I promise you I will continue when we come back," she said, stroking the boy's hair before standing and rushing to Anthony's side. She did not look backwards, thoroughly distracted now to the point where she quite nearly forgot to take hold of her shawl and cloak. Nellie only rolled her eyes when she saw the two leave the shop. With a slight twinge of jealousy, she watched the two link an arm with each other's and run down the street, half laughing as the ferocity of the rain caught them.
She wondered briefly whether Mr Todd had noticed the two running down the street through his window briefly before her curiosity was soothed as she heard a familiar thump of footsteps from the shop's steps.
"Before yeh say anything," Nellie began firmly, pointing with her cloth-wielding hand, "the two of 'em over powered me."
"Don't be a child," Sweeney barked, his eyes blazing. "You let them go?"
"Yes. I'll remind yeh, Mr T, they're both old enough to make that decision to leave the building by themselves."
"My daughter is currently unchaperoned and in the company of a sailor, Lovett."
"You're paranoid."
With pursed lips, he turned towards the doorway with a determination to hunt down the two immediately, but was stopped by some invisible force that told him better.
"Let them act like children then," he said, not looking at Nellie as he made his way back towards his flat. She looked as he walked away, pausing before grinning to herself and shaking her head.
"That girl'll never marry," she muttered to herself, once again returning to the window.
The rain had refused to die down, a fact that didn't faze the two young lovers-to-be after they had found a bench that was, for the most part, protected by a large willow tree overlooking a small ravine.
"I must admit, I couldn't have imagined a better way to spend my day," Johanna mused, blinking as a large drop of water landed on her head.
"Then you haven't done much in life," Anthony replied, brushing the water from her head. She smiled up at him, finding herself noting how small she felt in comparison to him.
"I suppose you're used to all the water, though," she said after a short pause, her eyes not leaving his.
"Being a sailor and all that."
"I suppose so." Anthony grinned at the thought. "I was so used to it it took me days to be able to walk
properly on land again."
"Impossible!"
"No, I mean it! You can become so used to the ocean that land seems such a strange thing."
"I've never been at sea, I wouldn't know it."
"Then I must take you at some point, won't I?"
"Father wouldn't allow it."
"He wouldn't be able to stop you forever."
"You obviously, sir, do not know my father very well. No, I should think I'd have to marry to be able to leave and I very much doubt I will do such a thing."
"You are so sure of that?" Johanna blinked, smiling slowly.
"Are you so earnest, Anthony? I was quite sure before that you displayed some affection."
"I meant nothing of it!" Anthony said quickly, panicking. "Of course, I would never mean to offend-"
"You are not offending me, Anthony, in any other way than you expect me to believe that your
endearing closeness is anything other than some deep affection."
"Miss, I mean nothing by it, though I-"
"Anthony, I will admit to you that I feel such affections, though it is not in my place as a woman to speak out about them. Though your insistence in being petulant is testing me and I have no other option but to confess it."
Anthony remained quiet, not at all confused but certainly stunned. Johanna could not help but laugh and reached out to hold the sailor's hand, the skin frozen by the weather in a similar fashion to her own.
"Now, Anthony," she began, squeezing his hand, "you mustn't drag a poor girl from the warmth into weather such as this without rewarding her for her obedience."
"And what would you recommend, m'lady?" Anthony asked, nervously smiling.
"That you kiss me as only a sailor can, of course!" Even Anthony could not remain embarrassed a moment longer and placed his spare hand that was not within Johanna's grasp on the small of her back and pulled her forward, kissing her.
"Now, that wasn't so bad, was it?" Johanna said through a smile.
"I never expected it to be for a second." As if to prove his point, he pressed his lips to hers a second time, the sound of the rain suddenly gone to them. They barely noticed as the leaves of the willow tree gave into the pressure of the rain and doused them in the fresh waterfall.