Warnings at the bottom of the chapter.

Chapter Six:

A Shooting Star

"Excuse me, is Mrs. Thomas here?"

Johanna grasped her reticule as she waited in the doorway. She heard of the midwife from an overheard conversation. Now, as she lingered in the doorway, Johanna wished she made an appointment with her or written to Mrs. Thomas first.

The house was modest - inside and out. A child poked her head from around the corner. Johanna gave a small smile. The child waved before disappearing back.

The maid who answered the door returned with a middle-aged woman. Mrs. Thomas, she assumed. The two greeted each other and Mrs. Thomas said,

"What can I do for you, miss?"

"I'm Mrs. Hope," Johanna said, tilting her chin. "I wanted to have an examination? If that's all right?"

"What for?" Mrs. Thomas circled her. "Are you expecting?"

"I was wondering if you could tell me."

Mrs. Thomas paused. "I usually do house cards." She moved to the desk and sat. She inked her quill. "Can I put you down for the twenty-third?"

Johanna paled. "I'm afraid, I can't do a house call. Could I have it just here?"

Mrs. Thomas consisted it.

"Alright." She stood. "Come with me."

She straightened herself and sighed with relief. Johanna followed Mrs. Thomas through the house and into another room behind the kitchen. It was more modest compared to the rest of the house. There was no wallpaper. The white walls were left barren. A table-like furnishing was in the center. Mrs. Thomas pointed to it, ordering Johanna to sit on it.

After a brief examination, filled with the most humiliating of questions, Mrs. Thomas came to a conclusion.

"You certainly are pregnant."

"Oh." was all she said.

"It looks like you're at least seventeen weeks along." Mrs. Thomas placed her enormous hands on her hips. "You should've come to me sooner."

"Yes, sorry ma'am. I just didn't know . . ."

"That's all very well. When the due date arrives nearer, we will arrange the details of the birth."

"Thank you, Mrs. Thomas." Johanna paused. She leaned back on her heels. What was the polite way to invite herself out? "I await our next meeting."

Johanna was one of the sailor wives who had children their husbands didn't know about. But Anthony would be back soon. He would see their baby. He would get to be a father.

Mrs. Thomas saw her out. Johanna was caught in the streets. Nearly pushed away. She fought down the street, keeping a tight grasp on her reticle. She slipped into the supply room to face Mrs. Lovett; she scowled.

"Where have you been?" she snapped.

Johanna was expecting this. Her excuse slipped out easily as she practiced.

"I apologize for slipping out like that. I had a headache and visited the local apothecary down the street. Is that alright? It won't happen again; I promise."

Mrs. Lovett stared. "If Mr. T asks, I sent you."

Johanna nodded. "Thank you, Mrs. Lovett."

She gave a stern nod.

After an afternoon of tending to the customers, Johanna snuck a paper and a pen to the room. She jotted down a letter to Anthony that could be sent at a moment's notice. She sealed the envelope with a kiss.

Dearest Anthony,

I received your letter, and I was quick to forgive you. I love you. But please understand when I beg you to return. Anthony, I learned recently that I am carrying our child. A child! I can't believe it. And I almost didn't.

I don't know what to do. Should I run? I have nowhere to go. I have no money. I work in Mrs. Lovett's shop now but for no pay, except in some freedom. The darest I've ever gone was to visit the midwife, Mrs. Thomas. She's told me I need to see her again. I don't know how I'll manage it.

I haven't told Mr. Todd and I don't know if I can. I may be able to confide in Mrs. Lovett. I believe she suspects something already. Please steal me away, darling.

Love,

Johanna, your wife

(I only say that because it makes me smile)

Instead of sleeping, Johanna rummaged through her wardrobe for her most loose dresses. Some already didn't fit. She found a few that were suitable but wouldn't last. Would it be suspicious if she wore the same four dresses every day? She would need another lie. That was what her life was built upon now.

She still had the problem with her corset. It was snug around her middle, which couldn't be good for the baby.

She fell onto the bed. Johanna hugged her pillow to herself. She would figure something out in the morning.

Mr. Todd woke her that night. She flickered her eyelids open with a groan. Johanna sat up, her hand flew on her stomach. She covered her midsection with the pillow. Mr. Todd gestured to the window.

"There's a shooting star," he said, "Look."

They said nothing as they watched the star travel across the skies.

Johanna didn't know how to address him. Not "Mr. Todd" nor "Father". Neither worked for opposite reasons. Mr. Todd was too formal. Father gave the impression they were close. They were not.

She found a cradle in the darkest part of the storage room. They could use it for their baby. When Johanna ripped off the covering, she found a doll. Ragged and dusty. She held it to the light. She used to have a doll like this. More extravagant. Johanna clung to the toy and called it Margaretta. Once she was deemed "too old" to play with such things, her governess stole it away. Johanna never saw that doll again. A few tears were shed over losing Margaretta, but she dabbed them away with a lacy handkerchief and reasoned she was too old to be playing with such things, anyway.

Babies needed a lot. Time, energy, things.

Johanna left the doll and cradle as they were and went back to helping customers.

Sleep greeted her with a nightmare. Floors and walls shook until the building collapsed, sinking Johanna into the ground until there was only black. Her skin was covered in gooseflesh when she awoke. She reached out for her doll. Fully convinced Margaretta was right there, at her side. She snapped back to reality when she realized Margaretta wasn't.

Johanna threw on her dressing gown and crept downstairs, grimacing at the creaky steps. She wandered through the storage room, waving her hands in front of her like a madwoman. Until her toe slammed into the cradle. Using the wall as her guide, Johanna sat and reached to feel the dirty doll. She hugged it to her.

She was seventeen and had a husband, a child, on the way. Yet she took comfort in the doll. Johanna ignored those doubts and mockings in her mind.

The floors creaked, although she hadn't moved. Her eyes flickered open as the steps traveled. Johanna moved into a protective stance, covering her head and pleading for dear life.

"Johanna?"

Mr. Todd. She did not relax.

"What're you doing down here?"

He wasn't angry.

"I couldn't sleep," Johanna fibbed, "So I came down here."

Mr. Todd knelt by her. She didn't cower. She tilted her head down, finding her stomach was partly exposed. She adjusted her dressing gown.

"What's that you got there"

She paled and prayed he hadn't seen herself. But when she followed Mr. Todd's gaze, she realized he was looking at the doll on her lap. Johanna held it out to him, biting her lip.

"I know it's silly of me at this age and my status, but it's comforting." Johanna straightened her skirt over her knees. "I used to have a doll." She chuckled to herself. "Her name was Margaretta."

Johanna couldn't tell why she was speaking to Mr. Todd now. Perhaps she was lonely, or desperate for human connection.

The seasons turned warmer, and Johanna layered on shawls. She was sweating more than a pig, but it hid her pregnancy, which was all that mattered. Her dresses were too small. When she stretched them over her stomach, threads ripped out. In the paper, she found an advertisement for a maternity corset that could replace the fabric garment she'd made for herself. There was no hoping she could still fit in her corset.

"You're glowing," Mrs. Lovett observed when Johanna came down.

"I am?" Johanna paled but chuckled. "I suppose the warmer weather's been getting to me."

She didn't believe herself for a second and ran to a mirror the moment she could. She was glowing.

Looking away, she bumped into someone. Johanna whipped herself around with an apology.

Anthony stared back.

She couldn't speak.

"You're back."

It clicked with her.

"Oh, my goodness. You're back. Anthony!" Johanna threw her arms over him. "You're back. I knew you'd come."

He clasped the back of her head and pulled her in, kissing her forehead. "I promised, didn't I?"

"I had a letter I was going to send you." Johanna tilted her head to make eye contact. "I'm glad I won't have to, now."

They lingered in each other's touch before stepping away. Their hands remained holding the other.

"What are you doing here? There's people here and Mrs. Lovett. Mr. Todd-he can't see you here. Or Mrs. Lovett, she might tell him. Or Toby. I love the boy, but he can blabber. Or any of the regular customers. They haven't been coming as much, but . . . Anthony."

"I know I should have. My only excuse is that I wanted to see you."

Anthony ran his hands along her arms, taking her fingers in his own. As he looked down, he paused. Anthony faced her. Laced with hesitation and confusion, but most of all, adoration.

"Johanna . . . ?"

She glanced down with a smile and nodded. "I found out a few weeks ago."

He laughed. She laughed.

They wrapped their arms around each other, sharing a chaste kiss. Anthony pulled away with a chuckle. Johanna placed his hands on her stomach. When he looked back up, his eyes were gleaming with awe.

"My dresses don't fit anymore," Johanna said, with a light giggle, "You can't really feel anything yet."

"Have you told them? Mr. Todd?"

She bit her lip. "How can I? I'm humiliated and awkward and frustrated all at once."

"We'll figure something out. By the time they're born, we'll be in Paris."

Johanna beamed at the idea and traced her finger over Anthony's wedding ring.

"Perhaps, if I tell Mr. Todd," she began, slowly, "He'll understand and allow me to go with you." At Anthony's expression, she paused. "I need to tell him, anyway. If he makes me stay, there are certain things I need." Like a proper corset. "He'll find out soon enough. The months will go by and I don't think I can keep this secret for longer than that."

Anthony gave a small smile. "We could leave. Now."

"Could we?" Johanna peered behind him. "I don't know how you made it back here, but we'll be noticed. By Mrs. Lovett or Toby. Mr. Todd could be out there, too."

"Is there another way out?"

"Not that we could get to." She sighed. "I wish, Anthony. I'm sorry." Johanna squeezed his hand, and Anthony kissed her knuckles.

"I always worry this will be the last time I see you again."

"It won't. I'll tell Mr. Todd and he'll have to let me see you. Even if he doesn't, we'll find a way. We'll run away together and all our dreams will come true." She moved her hands to his chest. "You'll show me that cottage. I've already planned out how to furnish it. Our baby will be born and he or she will grow up in a loving home. We could have more children. It'll be our family and we'll be far, far away from London."

Anthony pulled her close and kissed her neck.

"I'll come for you tomorrow," he said, "I promise."

"I'll be here."

With a last glance, Anthony snuck out the door. Leaving Johanna clutching at her chest. She looked down at her belly. Two things rushed to mind. Anthony was happy. Beyond happy, really excited. But he realized rather quickly she was expecting. Time to tell Mr. Todd, indeed. Before he found out on his own.

Warnings: Pregnancy