Now that the smoke started to disappear, people were running over and it was beginning to become clear just how bad the situation was.
And it was awful.
Eleanore's trembling hand rose to cover her mouth as she laid eyes on the carnage the blast had caused to the crowd. Now she could see the bodies. And the blood. So much blood...
A man almost knocked into her as he sprinted over to the carriage and appeared to be screaming a relative's name. Other people joined him, desperately searching through the chaos to find their loved ones and crying out in utter misery.
Those who had been fortunate enough to not stand directly in front of the letterbox were injured badly but some had started to come around, while others remained unconscious. The same, however, could not be said for those that had been directly stood in front of the letterbox.
A handful of people, who mere moments ago were cheering and smiling, now lay caked in blood and debris upon the ground. Their bodies unrecognisable and destroyed beyond recognition. All around them now, family and strangers - even a few police officers - began trying to assist them in any way they could. But they were frantic and helpless, most of them still in shock themselves. Eleanore could only watch and share in their agony.
A hand grabbed her shoulder and whizzed her around. Suddenly she was looking into the wide eyes of Amelia who was shouting something. She could see her lips were moving, but she simply couldn't hear what she was saying.
"Eleanore!" Amelia screamed. The side of her face was smeared with dirt and she had a graze on her chin from where she too had fell. "Are you hurt?! Eleanore can you hear me?!"
Amelia shook the baker hard by the shoulders but all she got in response was a hauntingly blank expression. Amelia knew Eleanore was in shock, but she appeared relatively unharmed, and so she left her there to run to the upturned carriage.
"Father!" She screamed desperately, pushing through the crowds "FATHER!"
Passing the second carriage that had somehow stayed upright during the blast, Amelia spotted Hooper nearby sprawled out on the stone steps of the building. He seemed conscious too and uninjured, just confused as he scrambled to get back on his feet and pick up his fallen cane.
Stepping over the broken glass and injured horse of her father's carriage, Amelia was relieved to see that Taylor had already made it out through the broken window and was dragging her father out too but struggling due to an injured arm. Helping him, she took her fathers arm and together they managed to lift him all the way out of the carriage and lay him on the ground.
Arthur's eyes opened when he was turned over and in a panic, he began hitting out with his arms and crying out.
"Father it's me!" Amelia took his wrist and noted that he grimaced in pain when she did so to his left one.
"Wh- ...what happened?" He asked after a bout of coughing from the dust.
"Explosion sir!" Taylor cried over the commotion, clutching his arm and gritting his teeth in pain "Are you hurt?"
"I- ...no I'm alright..." He groaned, attempting to sit up.
"We need to get you away from here, it's dangerous!" Taylor shouted. Looking around desperately, he finally spotted Winslow and one of Arthurs bodyguards crawling out from the other side of the carriage. Winslow appeared to be in a bad way, a vicious cut above his left eyebrow and a shard of glass wedged in his side. Jerry, his friend and Arthur's large bodyguard, was stood up straight with only a few cuts and scrapes on his face.
"Jerry!" He hollered "We need to get Arthur away from here - now!"
Instantly springing back into his professional job, Jerry raced around the side of the carriage and with Winslow's aid, helped Arthur up on his feet with an arm over his shoulder. "Come on!" They helped carry him over to the side of the road where a few other intact carriages were waiting. "Get in."
Arthur appeared to be drifting in and out of consciousness, and Jerry had to practically lift him in before getting in himself. Helping an injured Winsolw inside too, Amelia glanced over to the other side of the road where she had left her sister to tend to her father. Edith was still sat on the curb where she had left her, hunched over and holding her head. Amelia couldn't see Eleanore anymore. And that made her worried.
Knowing she had to get back to her sister and friend, she grabbed Taylor's wrist before he climbed up onto the rider's seat ready to make off with her father. "Where will you take him?"
"He needs medical treatment!" That was the response she got. "Now move out of the way!"
"Amelia," Arthur whimpered from inside the carriage, drawing her attention to him. "Help them." He pleaded, his eyes closing in pain "Don't worry about me. Help the people. Please."
"Move!" Winslow interrupted as he reached down to shove Amelia away and get the carriage moving. They made off in the opposite direction to the blast and Amelia could do nothing but let them go, their sole priority was the Prime Minister's safety - and that meant everyone else was expendable. At least she knew her father would be in good hands.
Running back to Edith, this time Amelia combed her fingers through her hair to look for any type of head wound but she found none. Edith still however remained hunched over and wouldn't open her eyes.
"Are you okay?!" Amelia asked sharply "Look at me! Edith, are you hurt?"
"No," She cried at last "I just...I cant see! There's dust in my eyes!"
Biting her lip in worry, Amelia glanced over her shoulder to the injured crowds and after searching hard, couldn't detect red curls anywhere. Turning back to Edith she took her hand "You'll be okay, just sit there and don't move. I need to find Eleanore, but I'll come back I promise."
Edith nodded and with that Amelia made off into the crowd again.
As she searched for Eleanore, she became overwhelmed by the number of injured people begging for help and turned to aid them. Ripping her dress she kneeled down and began making tourniquets for a man whose leg had been blown off. Another woman, unable to use her legs reached out to her and grasped her wrist, gurgling on her own blood and pleading for help. Once she had tied her a tourniquet, a police officer came over to help her with the lady on the ground and she moved on to the next person who needed help, this time a couple.
Walking down the rest of the steps with his hands over his head, Hooper felt vomit rise in his stomach as he surveyed the carnage around him. Heaving and covering his mouth, he ran down the rest of the steps, scooped up his hat and frantically ran to his own carriage to get away from any second blast that may occur. This was politically motivated and terrorist in nature, he had no doubt, there was no telling how many bombs may have been planted.
Before he could open the door to the carriage, he was stopped by a bloodied young man carrying a limp child in his arms.
"Please!" The man cried, his face crusted in blood as he moved toward him. "Help! Help please!"
"Get away from me!" Hooper shoved him hard and grimaced at the blood now staining his pristine white gloves. Spotting a young driver in a bowlers hat approaching him in concern, he pointed a finger at him "You. Drive! Get me away from here!"
The boy did not hesitate and scrambled to climb onto the driver's seat, happy to get away from the scene himself. With Hooper safely inside and pushing away another injured man who tried to get in the carriage with him, he made off and watched in relief as he got further and further away. Sykes had already been scooped off to safety by the looks of things, with any luck the blast would have killed him.
"Raise her legs!" Amelia hollered from where she kneeled by the injured woman accompanied by a fellow injured man whom Amelia could only assume was her husband. The gentleman looked confused but did so when she showed him by putting his wife's ankles on his shoulders while she put pressure on a wound on her chest that continued to bleed. "Keep them up! That's it! You'll be okay darling, just stay down, you'll be okay..."
"Is she die?" Her husband tearfully asked. Amelia chose to ignore the question and continue applying pressure to the poor woman's chest. Her husband sobbed brokenly by her side as she did so, speaking in a language she didn't recognise. Eastern European perhaps.
"Please! She has baby." He cried in broken English, pressing his hand to the woman's ever so slightly swollen stomach "Please help them."
Amelia's blood ran cold at his words. The woman on the ground continued to cough crimson as she tried to say something to Amelia with tears in her eyes.
"Don't talk..." Amelia told her gently, squeezing her hand "It's okay, just lay still." Turning to look to the woman's husband she told him firmly "Talk to her, keep her calm - I need to get transport, we need to get her to hospital."
The husband nodded and took his wife's bloody hand as Amelia stood and ran to try and find a passing carriage with a driver who would be kind enough to help those who were injured get to the hospital.
As she made her way back through the crowd, she caught sight of a wagon pulled by two horses turning onto the street and then stopping when the driver caught sight of the scene up ahead.
Seeing her chance, Amelia made a beeline towards it and flapped her arms in order to catch his attention before he could pull away. When she was close enough, she screamed for help. The poor old man at the front of the wagon grew pale at the sight of her dirt-streaked face and blood-soaked dress, but he had kind eyes and she could only have faith that his heart was the same.
"Please, sir! Can you help us? Can you take us in your wagon to the nearest hospital? I beg you, there are people dying! A pregnant woman over there needs medical treatment immediately, is there any room for the injured in the back of your wagon?"
The old man's mouth fell open and his eyes widened like saucers when just as she had finished speaking, a chorus of fresh agonising screams came from the crowd up ahead. His hands shaking while holding the reigns, he began to shuffle down from his seat to meet Amelia.
"Th-there's room in the back for some people, I can take out my produce for space." He trembled.
Amelia closed her eyes in relief and threw her arms around him "Thank you, sir. Thank you!"
"My God, what's happened?" He gasped as she pulled away and Amelia moved to the back of the wagon to remove the large boxes of produce that were stashed there.
"An explosion." She explained breathlessly as she managed to lift one of the heavy boxes down and onto the cobbled street.
"Here, I'll do that - you go get those people." He told her.
Amelia nodded and managed one more expression of thanks before she ran back over to where the couple still lay waiting for her, this time a young police officer had joined them.
"That man in the wagon can take us to the hospital, we need to move her!" She exclaimed, running over. The woman had gone quiet and lay still, passed out from the blood loss she could only assume. The husband was still speaking to her in their mother language while the officer that had just arrived at the scene was standing above them with a hard expression.
"Come on! There's only so much room and there are other people that need help! Will you carry her?!" Amelia snapped, pushing past him and ripping a new piece of her heavy skirts so she could fold it into a small bandage of sorts to put pressure on the woman's chest.
As she bent down to apply it, the officer's hand reached out and grabbed her arm, stopping her.
"Love," He breathed quietly, shaking his head "She's dead. Leave 'er."
Amelia stared at him in disbelief. Looking down at the woman she noted that her chest had stilled and she was no longer breathing. She was gone. Her husband had not even noticed and was still speaking to her, caressing her face with his bloody hand in an attempt to comfort her.
Tears filled Amelia's eyes and her lip trembled. She'd taken too long to get help.
"Go get the other people," The officer told her gently "There are still others that can be saved. I'll help him."
Amelia let a few tears slide down her cheeks as she had to turn her back on the confused husband who had just lost his wife and newborn child right in front of his eyes. She couldn't bear to look into his eyes when he understood they would not be coming back. But she needed to get back to Edith and find Eleanore.
At the thought of her red-haired friend, Amelia gasped when through the smog she finally spotted her! Eleanore had her back to her and was wandering around the carnage looking like a ghost.
Sprinting up to her, Amelia whirled her around by her shoulders "Oh Eleanore! Thank god you're okay! Oh my...you're head." She exclaimed, pressing a gentle hand to the wound on the baker's temple.
When the baker didn't flinch or give any hint of pain, Amelia grew concerned. She was likely in a state of severe shock and needed to get her head stitched before it got infected.
"Come here, follow me." She directed her away from the scene with a hand on her back. Together they made their way back to the curb where Edith was still sat, unable to see and growing panicked that she had not heard from either of them in a while.
"Edith, come on there's a carriage over there that will take us to hospital. Take my hand."
"Where's Eleanore?" She asked as she rose blindly from her spot and took her sister's arm.
"She's here with me, she has ahold of my other arm. She can't talk just now, she's in shock."
Making their way over to the wagon, Amelia was thrilled to see that the old man had already begun directing people into the back and was currently in the process of helping those who couldn't get in themselves. It was already filling up and with herself, her sister and Edith there would not be much more room.
"Oh thank goodness, I wasn't sure if you would be back in time." The old man greeted her in relief. "I can't take much more weight, this is a rickety old wagon."
"Just a few more." Amelia pleaded "There's still some more we can help. Just let me find them."
"Be quick." He nodded, turning to help Edith whose eyes were beginning to swell from the dirt and grime that were irritating her eyes. "Here, miss. Just step up here now, I've got you."
"Thank you." She whimpered, climbing inside and sitting beside another injured woman crying quietly to herself. Eleanore followed, sitting beside Edith and scooting so close to her they were practically mushed together.
There they waited for Amelia to return, as they did so Edith managed to find Eleanores hand and give it a tight squeeze. "Are you alright?"
The baker attempted to answer but her throat became tight and only a few pitiful whimpers fell from her lips. Edith smiled sadly and patted her hand. "It's okay, you don't have to answer..."
Eleanore managed another whimper and watched as Amelia came back with three more people, two men and a woman, both young and covered in dust and debris. With help from the others in the wagon, they were pulled in and Amelia scrambled to get inside before the carriage could start moving.
"That's everyone!" She yelled.
The response was a loud slap on the reigns from the driver and the wagon began to pull away and turn before making its way back up the street. Inside the wagon, the weight of the situation began to hit everyone and soon enough everyone inside was crying. Their suffering echoed and shared amongst those who had been left behind to die. The grief came in waves, small at first then larger and larger. Eleanore clutched tightly onto Amelia and Edith and together they shared in that grief.
Now given their undeniable safety, Amelia couldn't help but weep. She had tried her best, but she still felt like she hadn't done enough. Clutching tightly to her sister, she buried her face in Edith's shoulder and wept loudly.
~.0.~
The Old Bell Tavern, Fleet Street
Sitting with a finished tumbler of ale, Sweeney eyed the many drunken men in the pub and scowled in disgust as they bombarded the overworked maid with more and more orders. He wasn't entirely happy to be here, but Richard had insisted upon taking him after a long chat in his barbershop about their new plans. And here they had sat for the last few hours, and of all the things - discussing how to get away with murder.
"I still say we hire my friend in Surrey to take care of him, we can't afford to have any ties linked to us when they find his body, it'll get us killed." Richard came after taking a large gulp of his ale.
Sweeney rolled in his eyes "It's your conscience that'll get us killed."
Richards's mouth tightened in a line "I'm only trying to think of what's best. I know you want your revenge, as do I. But revenge is worth nothing when you have to face the gallows. Eleanore would be devastated."
At the thought of his Nellie wasting away into a depression at the loss of him, Sweeney reconsidered. But no, he needed to be firm. As much as he would hate to think of her growing old without him due to his own slip-ups with Turpin's murder, a part of him knew she would understand that he needed to do this. She was after all very understanding despite her stubbornness.
Over the course of these last few months, he couldn't believe how much his feelings for the baker had changed. Where once she had been considered a burden on his miserable life, he had come to the conclusion that she was the glue holding him together. She made him remember what it was like to live and not survive, to appreciate life and its gifts. With her, he felt alive at last.
He would tell her, when the time was right, that he loved her. He'd never been so sure of anything before. Falling in love with her was the easy part; it was admitting to himself that it happened that was hardest. He'd had stone defences around his heart for so long and he didn't even notice they had begun to crumble until it was too late and they fell entirely. She was a part of his life now, and he couldn't have been more glad of that fact.
"What if we hired someone to take him?" Richard came, breaking him out of his trance. "If we want to have a part in this but also maintain our distance, perhaps we should have someone abduct him then take him to an area where we can take our revenge for however long we want. However, we want..."
Like a Cheshire cat, Sweeney's smile grew into a wolfish grin. "Torture the man? I didn't know you had it in you, Richard."
"Don't always believe what you see." He said offhandedly, unable to keep the smirk off his own face at the man's childish glee.
"That could work," Sweeney said "Would your friend from Surrey be willing to trade murder to kidnap?"
Richard snorted into his ale "My good man, my friend would do it for free. He's been waiting to do something like this to Turpin for a long time."
Sweeney frowned "Why?"
"His daughter got sectioned after Turpin got her pregnant, he was a regular at her brothel you see. She went a little crazy, saying the father was a nobleman and he'd was coming to take her and her bastard away and marry her. Turpin didn't like the damage to his reputation and put her in Foggs, she died of Tuberculosis a few weeks later."
Sweeney stared at him with hard eyes "Is there anyone in this city whose lives have not been destroyed by that vulture?"
"Likely not." Richard breathed "It's fascinating how one person's actions can cause such large scale effects. Philosophers call it the butterfly effect so I hear." Running his finger awkwardly around the rim of his glass, he looked troubled. "We should bear that in mind while we do this, we don't know what sort of long term effects this may have. We can't be caught. Not under any circumstances."
"We won't, believe me I know we won't," Sweeney responded.
Richard sniggered "Well I like your confidence, Mr Todd. But I think we can make a good compromise. We're already high on the suspect list, you for the unwanted advances he's made towards Eleanore and me for what he did to Edith. We can't have any attachment to this crime whatsoever if the law investigates. So, here's what I propose." He shifted forward and put his hands on the table, lowering his voice so the people around them wouldn't be able to hear from their little booth "I hire a man or two to take Turpin when he's vulnerable, take him to somewhere secret where the law wouldn't think to look. And then we finish him..."
Sweeney sat quietly and considered. Just when Richard believed he was beyond convincing, Sweeney leaned forward and raised his hand toward him "Consider it a deal."
Richard smirked and shook his hand. With a somewhat smugness he asked, "So I have redeemed myself then?"
Sweeney scowled and let go of his hand. "Don't push your luck, Sykes."
The nobleman simply tittered and Sweeney's mouth twitched despite himself. He really wanted to hate this man, but it was admittedly difficult. He was too ruddy charming for his own good. No wonder he and Eleanore got along, it was very platonic he realised. A sibling dynamic of sorts that he rather wished he had with someone himself. Perhaps from now he and Richard would get along, he would try at least for he knew it would make Nellie extremely happy to know that he had made a friend that wasn't his razors.
"Fancy another ale?" Richard asked.
"No. I need to get back to my shop."
"Very well, I'll call upon you in a few days time once I have spoken to my friend. It'll take me about two days to travel to Surrey and back so in the meantime I think you ought to watch Turpin's routine, see if you can find a pattern of when he will be alone and vulnerable."
"My pleasure..."
Reaching into their pockets to pay for their drinks, Sweeney was startled to see two men stumble into the tavern who looked like they'd been in a serious fight. Their entrance caused a lot of commotion and Sweeney was eager to get out and away from the filth. Sighing he muttered, "For god's sake."
Richard turned to look at the racket and threw some notes down on the table "Yes I think we've outstayed our welcome. Let's be off."
The pair stood from their table and began to make their way out and past the wounded men who were sat by the bar with a small crowd rallying around them. They were covered in dirt and crusted blood and appeared to be out of breath. As Richard and Sweeney passed them, something the men said in response to a question caught their attention.
"...must 'ave been about five killed by that explosion, Westminister gonna be goin' crazy if it's killed the new Prime Minister."
Before they could reach the door Richard froze and grabbed Sweeney's arm "Wait!"
"Did ya see wot happened? Who would do something like that?" The barmaid came, dabbing at one of the injured man's head with a damp cloth.
"Oh come off it Dierdrie, there's plenty o'people who'd want 'im dead. He's the voice for us poor folk and them posh tots don't like it." The man winced as the cloth make contact with a nasty cut above his right eye "I wouldn't be surprised if it was that Hooper bloke himself!"
"You can't be serious!" A man near him shouted, "Goin' as far as to plant a bomb and kill a rival party and 'is supporters?"
"They don't care about us!" The second man, older than the first angrily snapped "They never 'ave! We're jus' a number to them and that's 'ow it always woz till sykes came along. Poor bugger, I really 'ope he's alright. The explosion went off right before 'is carriage turned the corner, most of it hit the poor people stood there. 'Opefully there's a chance he'll be alright then..."
The gentleman's words were met by a general murmur of agreement and tuts of disgust at the people who would do such a thing.
"Excuse me! Excuse me!" Richard pushed through the crowd to get the mans attention, the growing panic in his voice silencing them as they turned to acknowledge his presence. "What did you say about an explosion in Westminister? When?"
"Just recently, couple o'hours ago." The older man responded, gazing at Richard with his head resting on his hand and a look of resignation on his face. "We were there when it 'appened - woz right after the Prime Minister's speech, a bomb went off in a letterbox and toppled the carriage."
Sweeney grew pale where he stood and ran forward to clutch the man by his shirt collar, knocking into Richard in the process. "Were there casualties?!"
The man's eyes grew teary and he nodded "Three dead already, one o'them a little boy. There'll be more though, the bastards put all kinds in the bomb, there must be a dozen o'people injured."
"Where did they take them?!" Richard asked now, growing almost as frantic as Sweeney.
"Hey, mate take it easy." One of the men tried to calm them.
"TELL US WHERE THEY TOOK THE INJURED!" Sweeney screamed, shaking the man.
"Hey relax you're scaring him!" The first man yelled, yanking his friend away from Sweeney's grip and shooting the pair a glare "They're at saint Bart's Hospital, bout a quarter of a mile from 'ere!"
Sweeney turned and darted through the crowd, throwing open the tavern door and sprinting down Fleet Street before Richard even had the chance to catch up with him. He heard Richard call his name but he wasn't listening. His heart thundered in his chest and his blood pounded in his ears. Eleanore...Eleanore...
All he could think of was her name while he ran. Please god don't let her be dead, he silently begged. Please...
~.O.~
Saint Bartholomew's Hospital
Sitting alone in the white-walled waiting room of the Hospital, Eleanore coughed into her hand and tried to wipe the dirt and grime from her hands onto her ripped dress. They had arrived a while ago and despite being in severe shock from the events that had happened a mere two hours earlier, Eleanore felt somewhat better sitting in the warmth of the hospital room as she and Amelia were the last to be treated. Eleanore had let Edith go in before her, citing that her injury wasn't as bad and that Edith needed to be treated before she went blind. The nurses and doctors were understanding and said they would have someone tend to herself as soon as someone had finished with their patient.
"Here you are." Amelia walked over to her with a glass of water in her hand and a warm smile.
"Th-thank you..." She whispered taking it and gulping it down immediately to try and cure her tight throat. "Why is it...hard ta speak?"
"Symptom of shock, darling." Amelia took a seat beside her and sipped her own water. "Once that heads been sterilized and stitched up I imagine they'll send you home. Thank god it wasn't anything too serious..."
Eleanore eyed Amelia over the rim of her glass curiously. She had always perceived the youngest of the Sykes children to be somewhat of an air-headed girly girl like Lucy Baker. A little tedious but ultimately sweet and harmless in her pretty frocks. But back there, she had been a force to be reckoned with. Where she and Edith had been panicked and useless, Amelia had been hard as nails. and incredibly courageous.
"Where did ya learn that?"
"What?" Amelia looked confused.
"Back there, when ya helped those people." She told her "Amelia, ye were phenomenal."
"Oh...thank you." Amelia smiled and tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear "I um, I trained as a nurse for six years at University. Gave it up when I turned twenty-five. Never forgot what I learned though, it comes in handy when you have so many children."
"I never knew that..." Eleanore smiled at her "Wot made ya give it up?"
"I got married and started a family." She responded passively. "I know it sounds a little silly with all the money our family has, but I really didn't want to hire a nanny to raise my children. We never were, mother and father were in our lives so much - that's what makes us all so close. Children need their parents, they need them terribly. As soon as I got married that's what I decided."
Eleanore blinked and sighed, thinking of her own father and how often he vanished in and out of her and her mother's life growing up. "Well, not every parent deserves a child."
"No," Amelia agreed quietly, looking down at her skirts and thinking of her own husband who didn't care at all for their daughters but lavished his attention on his only son. "No, they don't..."
The baker licked her lips and took another sip of her water. Passively, she asked, "Do ya regret it?"
Amelia's eyes snapped up to look at her. "Why would I regret my marriage?" She asked quite defensively, taking the baker by surprise.
"No, I meant giving up nursing...at university..." She amended.
"Oh, sorry I-" Amelia apologised, looking away.
Eleanore considered her with a hint of suspicion. She had always wondered what sort of relationship Amelia and Charles had when no one was around. She knew that pure, sweet Amelia was far too good for him and quite frankly it wouldn't have surprised her if Charles had been mistreating her all these years. Something she did not want to think about and was concerned to address for fear of speaking out of place with Edith or Richard. But she couldn't help but wonder.
"Well..." She started cheerfully to change the mood "Remember, if we ever got man trouble, us girls can always count on each other ta chat about it."
Amelia smiled a little, but it was a rather sad smile. She knew what Eleanore was offering and she appreciated it, but she could tell no one. "Thank you, Eleanore."
"Ya welcome, but honestly it should be me thankin' you. I dunno wot we would 'ave done without ya. You really did save people Amelia, an' ye helped me. Thank you."
Amelia's eyes grew wet "You're welcome."
Eleanore opened her mouth to speak again when an approaching doctor with grey hair called her name. With a reassuring smile from Amelia, the baker raised from her seat and followed the doctor into one of the rooms where he told her he intended to do a full examination. Her heart sank at the notion but she had no choice other than to comply, even though she knew the medical charge for this would be astronomical...
When after a good hour or so of stitching up her head and examing her completely, he told her to wait on the bed and he'd fetch her something to take home for her pain. While she was sat there in her thin white gown, she shivered at the thought of what may have happened if she and the girls had been closer to the carriage when that explosion hit. And Arthur, poor Arthur. She hoped to god he was still alive, he was the best thing for the country at this time. And taking him away before he could have the chance to shine would be absolutely heart-wrenching to think about.
Who could have done something so cruel? So vicious?
She had an idea but she could be wrong.
But this certainly wasn't the first time someone had tried to kill Arthur.
The curtain around her bed shifted open and Eleanore was startled by the doctor re-entering with a handful of things.
"Here we are," He said "Morphine and dressing for your wound. Pour this on the dressing and clean it two times a day for a week and drink plenty of gin if the morphine doesn't take away your pain. The stitches won't last forever so you will need to come back and have them taken out in a couple of weeks before it can fully heal."
Eleanore breathed a sigh and stood "That's all that's wrong wif me? I thought I might 'ave had ta spend a day or so here before I could go home."
The doctor chuckled, "No you can rest assured Mrs Lovet that you are alright and may go home. Luckily the fall wasn't too serious and there was no damage to the baby."
The baker's eyes widened and her stomach lurched. She must have misheard him. "I'm...sorry?"
The doctor's happy expression vanished when he caught sight of the baker's face. "Oh, you weren't aware? You showed all symptoms during the full body examination. You're pregnant, about three months I'd estimate..."
Her mouth fell open as she lowered her gaze to her stomach. Pregnant. The word echoed in her mind. She was pregnant. A child was growing inside her.
"I-" She stuttered, more in shock now than she had ever been "You-you're sure the baby is okay?"
"Perfectly." He assured.
The air came out of her lungs in an exhale of amazement. She couldn't believe this. So many thoughts and emotions threatened to drown her all at once. How could she have been so stupid? Of course, she was pregnant! Her period hadn't come in months and she had been sick now for so long. That is she had a feeling...but she hadn't actually come to terms with it possibly being true...
But it was true.
She was...happy. All her life she wanted a child of her own. And this child was a product of the love of her life, Benjamin Barker. No. Not Barker, Sweeney Todd.
A sudden sense of dread washed over her. What if Sweeney didn't want a child? Would he be angry? No, surely not. Shocked of course but she was certain he wouldn't be angry. He cared for her after all, right? They could work it out.
"Th-thank you, doctor." She managed when she realised she had kept him waiting while she'd let her thoughts run away with her. "Ow much do I owe ya?" She bent forward to reach for her little purse on the bedside table and braced herself.
"Ah, no need." He retorted, pulling out a piece of paper and stubby pencil "Your treatment has already been all paid for by a... Mrs Amelia Holton."
Eleanore paused mid-hand in her purse. Amelia had already paid for her? That must have cost a fortune!
"Is she still outside?" She asked.
"No, she left after paying to see her father who's in ward C."
"Oh," Eleanore said disappointed, she'd have to thank her next time she saw her. "Thank you, doctor, I'll jus' change and be on me way."
"Not a problem Mrs Lovett, there's a gentleman waiting outside for you causing quite the ruckus. Took a lot of us to convince him that you were fine."
The baker's eyes snapped to the door. Sweeney was here? A surge of love went through her at the thought of him charging in looking for her. He must have heard the news and come straight here on foot bless him. She was so glad he was here, it had been a horrific day for her and all she wanted now was to spend the night in his arms.
But she couldn't forget what she needed to do. She had to tell him about the baby, tonight. The sooner he knew the better.
"I'll see you again soon, Mrs Lovett. I hope you recover well in the next few weeks. Take care of yourself and the little one."
"Thank you, doctor, I will." She smiled. Pulling the curtain shut behind him, Eleanore began to change after the doctor left and couldn't keep the smile from her face as she cradled her ever so slightly swollen stomach. She could feel her child through her skin, their very presence bringing tears to her eyes.
Breaking her concentration was the sound of a patient next door moaning in pain. She shuddered when she remembered the state of the injured that had come with her and the girls. Some were beyond saving, one had died on the journey and who knew how many were still there unable to afford treatment.
She needed to get out of this godforsaken place and get home where she felt safe. She didn't want to go outside anymore, who knew what would happen if she did. She could not afford to endanger her child's life.
Throwing on her dress and tying her corset she made sure to not tie it too tight for the little one's sake. Purse in hand and shawl wrapped around her now torn green dress she made her way out of the room and winced when she moved her head a little too sharply, the tender skin of her wound stinging with any slight movement.
When she made her way back out into the hall she came upon Sweeney pacing around with an expression of apprehension and worry permanently etched onto his face.
"Nellie!" He cried throwing his arms around her instantly.
Losing her composure now that she was in Sweeneys embrace, Eleanore cried softly onto his shoulder and squeezed her eyes shut. "Oh love..."
Sweeney pulled back and cupped her face, turning it to the left and right gently like a concerned lover. "Are you hurt? One of the Sykes sisters said you hit your head but she didn't know any more."
"Yeah, I cut me 'ead open, nothin' too serious. Just a cut. They stitched me up good an' proper, now I'm free to go." She told him in an attempt at cheeriness.
"Are you alright?" He asked, his eyes shining with sympathy.
She shook her head and felt fresh tears gather in her eyes. "No."
Sighing in understanding he brought a hand to the small of her back "Come, let's get you home."
Wiping her face with the back of her hand she began to walk with him and smiled tearfully when his hand moved from her back to take her hand. There it stayed all the way out of the hospital and during the carriage ride back to Fleet Street. He hadn't ever held her hand like this before, and it was a wonderful feeling. Yet despite feeling happy at Sweeney's affections, Eleanore couldn't help the gnawing feeling in the pit of her stomach when she remembered what she had to tell him. She didn't think it could wait till tomorrow.
She wasn't sure if Sweeney was the father type. When he had returned to her after all these years he had been a broken husk of a man with little warmth and compassion. He had changed so much, but not entirely. She had seen how he had interacted with Joanna and how easily he had fallen back into that father figure role. He was capable, she knew he was. They could make this work and have this child.
It was her dream...
When at last their carriage pulled up outside the pie shop, Sweeney stepped out and lifted Eleanore down from the step by her waist in a move that made her heart skip a beat. There he held her above him for a moment before gently placing her down on the ground. Her head came at his shoulder level and he'd never quite realised just how small she was. Funny really, how someone so small could make such a big difference.
"Come on," He beckoned her inside to the parlour and sat her down, insisting upon her relaxing while he put the kettle on for both of them.
As he poured the tea he braced his hands against the counter and sighed. He could have lost her today, the thought alone had been soul-destroying. Life was an incredibly precious thing, in the blink of an eye, it could be gone or wasted. He would know, he'd taken it.
The spoon hit against the side of the cup while he stirred deep in thought. Since the night he had so viciously murdered George, he had been having nightmares. He would see George's face, bloodied and battered in the mirror when he went for his morning wash. Sometimes when he saw a man with a thick moustache and light brown sideburns, that strangers face morphed into Georges.
He had not intended to be so brutal. George was an obstacle at the time, a mere living thing close in proximity to him when he had been at his most violent and murderous. He'd taken out his rage on him and spared him no mercy. And so he had died a painful, slow death that he did not deserve.
Sweeney dropped the spoon and watched it clatter on the worktop. He swallowed the bile that began to rise in his throat and tried to calm his shaking hands. Guilt. That must be what he was feeling, extreme guilt.
He couldn't take it back. It was done. But by god did he regret that he had done such a deed to a man whom Eleanore cared for - not the man who had made his life a living hell. That was his biggest mistake. Choosing the wrong man in the heat of the moment and making him suffer unimaginable pain.
Nellie would never forgive him if she found out.
"Love, ya alright in there?" The gentle voice of Eleanore called to him from the parlour.
Sweeney snapped out of his trance and realised that he had been stood at that counter for so long the tea had likely gone cold. Throwing the tea away he instead settled on grabbing two glasses and the bottle of gin. Toby obviously wasn't back from playing otherwise the bottle would have been hidden or empty.
"Sorry I got distracted," he mumbled, walking into the parlour.
Eleanore chuckled at him and took the glass when he passed it to her. When he reached to uncork the gin and pour her a generous amount, she cringed. She couldn't touch the stuff now that she knew she was pregnant. But of course, he did not know that.
"There, that'll help your head," Sweeney told her.
"Um, thanks..." She managed half-heartedly, bringing the glass to her lap and not drinking it.
Sweeney tossed back his in one go as he joined her on the couch. Not noticing that she hadn't touched her drink and placed it on the nearby coffee table, Sweeney surveyed her closely.
She was not looking at him, but into the fire, her eyes reflecting the flames like the red of her hair. She had a faraway look upon her face, a sense of resignation and fatigue. What had happened to her had been horrific, he could only imagine how she must be feeling.
"Nellie, what happened?" He asked gently.
Her chest rose and fell in a deep breath, she felt her hands begin to shake from the memory of that blast. She shook her head and felt her voice break "I don't know... there was an explosion, and then there were people dyin'..."
Sweeney put his own glass down and looked at the fire. He didn't know how to respond to that. Instead, he reached for her hand and decided that he would indeed tell her what he should have told her a long time ago.
"I could have lost you, Nellie. You don't know how devastated I'd be if anything happened to ya." He began.
Eleanore chortled in response "Well ya didn't lose me, silly man, I'm far too stubborn ta die."
"Too stubborn for your own good." He responded fondly, turning her face to him and wiping her tears with his thumb. He stopped when her eyes met his and he again found himself momentarily stunned and unable to speak.
"Uh, Nellie I..." He began, his throat clogging. Why was it so damn hard to speak? Just tell her, you idiot! Spit it out!
"Sweeney there's somethin' I need ta tell ya." She said out of nowhere, surprising him.
"Oh, alright." He quickly dismissed the feeling of disappointment worming its way into his mind. He could wait, he'd let her speak first. "What is it?"
Her eyes lowered and she was playing with her hands again, something she did when she was nervous he had come to notice. "When the doctor examined me fully, he found somethin'."
Sweeney's heart began to race. Was she sick?
"What?" He asked fearfully "Are you alright? Is there something wrong with you?"
"Well, not exactly wrong..." Her eyes had brightened a little bit now and he was sure he could see the hint of a tender smile in the corner of her lips. Just what the hell was going on?
Over the cracking of the fire, she took a deep breath and said; "Sweeney,
I'm with child."
A penetrative silence followed soon after. Sweeneys face remained blank for a while as he took his time to process what she'd just said. When the silence became unbearably uncomfortable, he scoffed with laughter "What..?"
"I'm with child." She repeated, a little concerned by his reaction, or lack thereof. "I'm pregnant, Sweeney. Doctor says I'm about three months."
Now, he was beginning to show signs of shock. His face had paled significantly. He stood and recoiled from her like she had an infectious disease. All humour was gone from him now and he did not look pleased.
"Is this some kind of a joke?"
"Wot?" She gasped, shocked. "Of course it isn't a joke! Why on earth would I-"
"You said you were barren!" He accused.
A lump formed in the baker's throat. This wasn't the reaction she had hoped for. She anticipated an unhappy one, but not this. Not anger.
"I thought I was." She managed "Twelve years I lay with me Albert an' not one pregnancy. Eventually, I got so used to 'im sayin' it was me fault I believed it." Turning her face away to hide her tears she wiped at them frantically with her wrist and turned to look back at him, hoping to see some kind of softness in his eyes. But all she could see was the same hardened exterior as before.
"You honestly think we could raise a child right now?" He snapped, his voice growing in volume. "You think us raising a baby in this filth of a city is a good idea?!"
"We can make it work." She said quickly, beginning to feel like she was pleading. "I... I know it's not the best time, an' we don't know much about raisin' a baby. But this is a gift I've been askin' for all me life. Ya don't know how long I've bin dreamin' of this moment, carryin' then holdin' a child of me own in me arms." Then after a moment of hesitation, she added softly "Your child."
Like a switch that had been flicked on, Sweeney went from staring at her blankly to raising his hands to his face in fear and pacing in front of the fire. This was all too much, too damn much. How could she land this on him now when everything between them was going so well?
"You're asking something of me that I can't give. I can't be a father right now!" He cried "Nellie I can't! I can't raise a child!"
The tears that she had been so desperately trying to hold back at the start of their conversation now began to fall and her mouth turned into a snarl of anger. "You already are a father! And I'm sorry that ya aren't ready but that's just 'ow life works! We got ourselves into this! Now we 'ave to get ourselves out!"
"No. No. You got yourself into this mess! You told me you couldn't have children!" He growled, pointing his finger at her.
"Don't you dare blame this on me!" She screamed "It was you who came to me for the first time and you who continued to do it knowing there was always a chance! And you who got me pregnant! This is not my fault!"
"You told me you couldn't have children!" He yelled again, "I didn't ask for you to get pregnant!"
"You think I'm not shocked too?!" She hollered back, her mouth agape at the words that were coming out of his mouth "This isn't about you and it's not about me either! It's about an innocent child who didn't ask for any of this either!"
Eyes blazing Sweeney watched as she rose from her seat and approached him. He took a step back to keep himself away from her and the gesture made her stop. He didn't want to be near her or the baby, his baby. He didn't want any part in his child's life. The realisation hit her like a tonne of bricks.
Burying her face into her hands, Eleanore began to sob. This couldn't be happening. This couldn't be happening. Why her? Why now?
"Nellie..." Sweeney took a step forward now, his heart aching to see her cry but his stubbornness preventing him from reaching out to her.
"Why can't ya jus' be happy?!" Her head snapped up from her hands "I thought you'd be happy! I thought ya cared about me..."
"I do!" He said frantically, clutching her shoulders "God Nellie I do care about you! More than you know! I-"
"Then care about the child too." She begged "If you care, then support me. Be there for them. Nothing can change the fact that yer gonna be a father, Sweeney. Ya either gonna be one or not."
"Nellie I can't!" He bellowed, pulling away.
"Why?" She cried desperately, choking back her tears. The situation descending into chaos as they continued to shout over each other. A part of her was glad Toby was not home otherwise it would have been a horrible sight for the poor lad to see.
"You keep saying ye can't but ya won't tell me why!" She yelled after a minute or so of intense arguing where neither of them was listening to the other.
"I'll fuck them up!" Sweeney screamed all of a sudden, punching the mirror hanging above the mantle and sending shattered glass over the carpet. The impact made him whimper in pain as shards of glass cut his knuckles.
Eleanore jumped from the sound and the pair grew quiet. Sweeney slumped into the armchair nearest him and brought his bloodied hand to his face, clenching his eyes shut and rubbing his forehead with his fingers.
Managing a tearful whisper, he said, at last, "I'll damage them, Eleanore. I won't be the father they deserve. I just, I just can't..."
The baker exhaled and felt fresh tears sting her eyes. Despite her hurt, despite her anger. Her heart went out to the broken man in front of her. This was a product of his own insecurities and trauma. He'd failed as a father before. Now he was convinced he would do so again. The fact he believed this made her heart hurt for him, for she understood why he had come to this conclusion.
Biting back the urge to argue again she took a few steps forward and knelt in front of him, pulling his hand away from his face and imploring him to look at her.
"You only believe that because of ya past." She told him. "There's still a part of Benjamin Barker in there that was once a lovin' father. That Benjamin is still there, he's jus' wearin' the mask of Sweeney Todd. You could be a wonderful father if ya would only jus' believe ya could."
He shook his head bitterly, her naivety and optimism angering him "No I'm not, Eleanore. I'm a killer. And remember you're no better than I."
His comment made her pull back, her eyes widening "What?"
"You baked people into pies for me, Eleanore. You honestly think that's something a good mother would do? You're delusional."
Lip trembling and eyes burning, Eleanore raised to stand from where she was kneeling and took a few steps back from the man. It took her a minute or so to fully process what he had just said and even longer to come to the conclusion that he was right.
A lone tear fell upon her belly as she looked down and thought about what this poor child was being brought into. A broken shell of a man for a father, and a weak-willed, failure of a mother. Perhaps...perhaps the kindest thing was to let them go, and not bring them into this cruel, harsh world. Maybe that was the kindest thing, but she was not going to give up. Not here. Not now.
"Love please," She managed, swallowing the harsh lump in her throat "We can work it out. We can. We jus'..." She struggled for words"...need some time."
Sweeney's eyes grew cold. "I don't want to work it out."
She stared at him in stunned silence. She felt like she'd just been slapped across the face for daring to hope, daring to dream. A dream that was quickly slipping away with every moment.
The barber stood from the armchair and began to walk away from her, twisting the knife further.
"Sweeney!" She gasped, reaching for his hand. He snatched it away before her fingers could touch his own. He knew he was being cruel, but he simply couldn't bear to look at her sad brown eyes and tear-streaked face. He had to get back up to his shop, his only sanctuary where he could think and be alone.
"Sweeney please!" He heard her choke on a sob as he stepped around her and briskly made his way out the parlour and up the stairs to his apartment.
Eleanore heard the door slam and couldn't believe what had just unfolded. She was so incredibly hurt, so devastated that she could barely speak or comprehend coherent thoughts. Her back hit the wall and with trembling legs, she managed to slide down the wall into a sitting position with her knees up. Her hands moved to cradle her stomach and soon enough she couldn't keep the sobs at bay. Plastering a hand over he mouth she heaved and cried hard into her skirts like a lost little girl.
What would she do now? How could she continue to raise this child without their father being present? What would she tell them? They were unwanted and unplanned, that's why their daddy wasn't there to play with them.
How could she possibly look her child in the eyes and tell them that?
Coughing weakly into her hand from the force of her cries, she jumped when she heard another door close. Her hope raised significantly that it was Sweeney, running back down to the parlour to apologise and take her in his arms. These hopes were dashed when she heard Toby singing merrily as he skipped into the parlour in a very cheerful mood. His smile, however, faded instantly when he came upon his mother on the ground.
"Mum...?" He stuttered.
Sniffing and trying to maintain her composure somewhat, the baker frowned at him "Where the hell 'ave you been?"
"I...I was out with a friend." He lied smoothly.
Like a true gentleman, he had escorted Beth home on time so her parents would assume she had spent the day at school. The whole walk he had been mustering up the courage to tell Beth that he liked her, really liked her. But like an absolute coward, he had chickened out right when they'd reached her beautiful stately home. What he had managed to do though, was tell her that the girls who picked on her were only jealous because she was smart and beautiful. As soon as he'd said that, Beth had gasped and her cheeks had grown pink. Toby had instantly regretted it and began apologising when Beth had smiled, pressed a kiss to his cheek in thanks and then - seemingly embarrassed herself - scurried off inside her house. Toby could have exploded with joy at that very moment. Unable to contain himself he had sung and danced his way back home with a beaming smile, very much mad with love.
That happiness and cheerful mood had disappeared as soon as he had walked into the parlour, his mother was in a sorry state and he instantly forgot about everything and dropped to his knees in front of her.
"Mum, wots wrong? Wot 'appened?"
Like the pain of remembering just what had happened was too much, Eleanore felt her resolve break and she pulled Toby close into a tight embrace, crying into his shoulder brokenly. "Oh, Toby!"
Rubbing her back in a gesture of comfort, Toby could only feel helpless. "Mum, why are ya cryin'?" He asked, his own eyes growing wet. "Please tell me wot's wrong...?"
Crying harder at his words, Eleanore couldn't gather the strength to respond even if she wanted to. She cried not only for herself but for her baby too. I'm so sorry lil one, she thought I'm so sorry...
Even though Toby was holding her, even though Sweeney Todd was just above her, both the barber and the baker had never felt so alone.
A/N: I know, I feel so badly for Nellie but I do also feel for Sweeney too somewhat :( Thoughts? Again I'm sorry this update took some time to come out but I really wanted to make it lengthy and stick to this kind of word count for the future. More drama-filled chapters to come soon, thanks to everyone who is still reading! x