Warnings at the bottom of the chapter

Chapter Five:

The Way Ahead is Clear

It had been a month and her bleedings still hadn't come.

Usually, it wasn't something Johanna took track of. A maid at Turpin's advised her to. Yet when she sat down to write it into her planner (she wasn't even going to write the word "monthly" or "bleeding", she planned to draw a circle on the days it started and ended), her cheeks flushed and she couldn't even dip her quill into ink. She gave up but couldn't fall asleep. Somehow she was still embarrassed. When she was younger, the beadle told her he could read her thoughts. Johanna desperately hoped neither he nor Turpin could.

When Mr. Todd took her to the apartment above the shop, her bleedings had been somewhat irregular. The moment Johanna realized hers had come, for the first time since, her knees buckled. She didn't have her sanitary belt or any other supplies. Mr. Todd was accustomed to blood with all the customers he had. And, Johanan reasoned with herself, he had a wife once.

But talking to a man about such matters was humiliating to think about on its own. One maid who worked for Turpin had a more modern view of the matter. Men shouldn't be so cowardly about women's problems. Still, Johanan couldn't discuss an uncomfortable subject with Mr. Todd.

She was thankful to have Mrs. Lovett - another woman to turn to. Although she was a bit gruff with Johanna, at least they were of the same sex and she would turn to her for ladies' problems. Johanna attempted to be casual when she asked for the supplies but stuttered over her words. Mrs. Lovett struggled with a smile until she promised to get the things once work got off if Johanna could wait that long. More relieved than anything, she agreed and thanked her again.

Weeks passed by, all of March had, but Johanna hadn't gotten her bleedings. That was fine. Wasn't it? After all, women had to stop at some point. She couldn't imagine an elderly countess complaining of a cramp every four weeks. Perhaps it was time that Johanna stopped. She comforted herself in these things, but part of her warned this wasn't normal.

She found Mrs. Lovett alone in the storage room. She muttered something about needing more meat and stepped back, nearly bumping into Johanna. She gasped, clutching her chest.

"You gave me quite the fright there," Mrs. Lovett said.

"I apologize." Johanna folded her hands in front of her, swaying on her heels to gather courage, "Mrs. Lovett, there is a question I would like to be permitted to put to you . . ."

Mrs. Lovett left the storage area and stepped into the shop, where she found a broom. Johanna lingered behind her. Left wondering if that was her way of granting permission. Perhaps she should help with the sweeping. But there was only one broom. Johanna cleared her throat again and glanced around. Toby was in the parlor, she reminded herself. Mr. Todd was out. His coat was gone.

"Why do ladies sometimes . . ." Johanna began with certainty, but as Mrs. Lovett dropped the broom and picked up the rag, her tone dropped. "Miss their monthlies?"

Mrs. Lovett paused at that, turning her head with a quirked eyebrow. "Monthlies?"

Johanna nodded and dropped her stare. "You know . . . bleedings?" The confused look didn't leave Mrs. Lovett's eyes. Johanna inhaled. "Woman's things? The time of the month?"

"Ah!" Mrs. Lovett exclaimed, and Johanna wished she weren't so loud. She took down a chair from one table and plopped herself down. "Took me a moment. I haven't had one since . . . well, for a while."

She relaxed upon hearing that. If Mrs. Lovett didn't have hers, then that must be the reason Johanna hadn't, either. But the mention of Mr. Todd made her uneasy. Johanna looked back as if to check he was there. He wasn't. She faced Mrs. Lovett again, who was now leaning against her elbow.

"Well." Johanna took a tentative step forward. "What happens when ladies-" she lowered her voice to a whisper, "-miss theirs?"

Mrs. Lovett gave a quick shrug. "Could be lots of reasons. Dr. Kenge said once they might not come 'cause of hardship or disease. Then, of course, there's the most common reason."

"What's that?"

"Pregnancy." At Johanna's look, she continued, "When a woman has a baby, they don't get their cycle until it's born."

"Pregnancy?" Johanna repeated, mostly to herself. She took down the other chair at the table and sat, gripping the edges of the seat; she leaned forward.

Pregnancy. Johanna didn't think so. Although she understood where a baby came from, thanks to an especially humiliating lesson from her governess and blush-inducing books for preteen girls, her body couldn't carry a baby. There was that night with Anthony. Before they were separated again. Though it couldn't take just one night to make a baby. No. It couldn't be.

Yet her heart pounded faster.

"But don't some women stop getting theirs at a certain time?" Johanna questioned, unable to keep the panic from her voice.

Mrs. Lovett looked her over. "They do. But not until they're my age or older. I only celebrated my forty-fourth last year." She extended her fist. "Yer still a spring chick. Nothin' for you to worry about."

"Oh-okay."

The two sat for a moment until Mrs. Lovett pulled herself up, using the table. She wiped off her hands and put the chair back. Johanna followed her lead.

"Better run along now," Mrs. Lovett said, "Your da's probably waitin'."

Dread filled her at the thought. This wasn't a scandal. Nothing was a scandal about this. Johanna was legally married and in love with Anthony. She was Mrs. Hope. She couldn't imagine telling Mr. Todd she was going to have a baby - if that was the case. She was already ashamed, and she didn't even know if there was a baby. A little Hope.

Anthony didn't know, and she couldn't contact him. He promised not to be gone for more than a few months. But what if those months expanded?

She was being silly. It wasn't likely. Johanna grabbed the railing as she sped up the stairs. It wasn't even certain she was expecting. She would have to find a midwife to confirm it.

Oh, a midwife. Before entering the room, Johanna took another glance at the street. She would have to sneak away during the busy hours to meet with one. Mr. Todd was possessive, and Mrs. Lovett knew too much already. She would have to go by herself. She desperately wished Anthony could go with her. It wasn't possible, and it was a foolish wish. It would be lucky enough to get away long enough to see a midwife.

But it still wasn't official. Johanna would wait for a time and her bleedings would come. This would all be over.

It was as if the stars had heard her unspoken wishes when she woke the next morning with a throb in her abdomen. Her bleedings had come at last. Thrown off by the strange recent events. But when Johanna checked, there was no spotting.

She waited for the rest of the day. Nothing came. No omen. No answer. The next day was luckless as well. Johanna waited a week and her bleedings didn't start.

A customer came in later, with a rounded belly she touched with care. Her features glowed, and she linked arms with her husband. Johanna couldn't keep her eyes away from the woman's stomach.

Johanna could be like that in a matter of months.

After the shop closed and Johanna found herself in a familiar situation, where she found Mrs. Lovett in her parlor. Toby was out. Johanna wasn't certain where Mr. Todd was, but he wouldn't get in their way. Mrs. Lovett lounged on her sofa. Exhausted after the dinner hours.

"Mrs. Lovett," Johanna said, taking careful steps forward. She should be brave and go right into it. Mrs. Lovett didn't like being interrupted.

"Hmm?"

"What are the common . . ." Signs? Symptoms? Occurrences? "Symptoms of . . ."

"Of what?" Mrs. Lovett put her hand down.

"Pregnancy."

Too forward. Too obvious. Johanna practiced excuses as to why she was so suddenly curious. But none effectively slipped her tongue.

While her stomach squeezed itself, Mrs. Lovett frowned and looked her over. She knows, thought Johanna, twisting a lock of her hair. Mrs. Lovett made eye contact.

"Dr. Kenge said there might be bloating or cramps. Your mum's midwife said you miss your cycle, or you feel tired all the time. Also mentioned somethin' 'bout your breasts being sore. Ladies usually feel mighty sick, too."

Sick. Cramps. Missed blessings. Tiredness.

Johanna had experienced all four.

A coincidence. Must be.

"I'm home, Mum!" Toby shouted from outside the room. He burst inside. "Oh, hi, Jo."

She managed a weak smile. "Hello, Toby."

As Mrs. Lovett coddled Toby with hugs and kisses across his cheeks, Johanna made her silent retreat. Back in the apartment, she put a hand on her stomach.

No. She couldn't be. Johanna didn't have any real reasoning. It just couldn't be.

"There's no baby," she whispered to herself.

Her worries remained in the back of her head. Johanna would joke with a customer when her hands would rub along the ties of her apron, along her belly. Reminding her there could be a baby there. In the morning, when she got dressed, Johanna would pull her corset over her chemise. Her hands would lay there and she would remember all her symptoms. Some evenings, Johanna would push through the dinner crowd with a light cramp. Her bleedings hadn't come.

Mr. Todd was down in the pie shop. His business was closed by the excuse he needed a day off. Johanna never heard of him needing time to rest. But he stayed away, just close enough behind the counter. Johanna hoped his intimidating demeanor wouldn't chase anyone off.

He didn't. Some even greeted him.

Johanna paused from behind the counter. Today was slower than most, and Mrs. Lovett instructed her to watch from here since she could see the entire shop from this angle. Save for the outside, of course. Johanna pressed her knuckles into the corner of the table. Without a thing to say.

One customer - a lady in plain clothing carried a reticule around her wrist. Sparking a memory of Johanna's own.

"I have a reticule like that," she said. Johanna closed her lips, wondering why she said that out loud. Mr. Todd wouldn't care.

To her surprise, he turned to her and asked, "You do?"

"I've had it all my life," Johanna replied, with a nod, "Anthony found it again for me."

"May I see it?"

His tone was soft, in awe.

Johanna nodded and disappeared upstairs. She found her reticule and ran back down. She held out the bag. Mr. Todd took it, tracing a finger along its designs. His lips parted.

"This was your mother's," he said, almost a whisper.

"What? But how?"

"I gave this to her. For our anniversary one year."

Johanna paused, as she thought of something to say. The moment was too tender to interrupt. Mr. Todd touched the golden clasp. He didn't open it.

"How did you get this?" he questioned.

"Turpin always had it. It's been with me since I was a baby." At baby, she flinched. "I think he's had it since . . . well. When he saw her last, I suppose."

Mr. Todd nodded and gave it back. His fingers lingered on the clasp. Johanna took it. She almost didn't want to. The reticule was a symbol of her mother. When Johanna held the bag to her chest, she almost had her mother.

Johanna returned the reticule but didn't stash it away in the drawer. Instead, she set it on the dresser. In case Mr. Todd ever needed to see it.

She'd always been a skeleton with a layer of skin. But as Johanna read Anthony's letter that evening, she traced along her nightgown. Feeling a bump on her abdomen.

And she knew.

Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy, talk of periods