A/N: Thanks to everybody who has reviewed thus far...sorry it's taken me so long, senior year's hassle, let me tell you. :-) Also, I forgot to mention this earlier - none of these characters belong to me. Dr. Henry Jekyll and (with him, as always) John Utterson are the creation of Robert Louis Stevenson. Lucy Harris and the chapter titles are the property of Frank Wildhorn and Leslie Bricusse. I have gotten nothing other than pure enjoyment (and the occasional sleep deprivation) from writing this story, no infringement intended. All right, now that I've gotten that out of the way, on with the show...
After strolling inconspicuously across the street, Frederick and I found ourselves in front of the Garden. I stopped dead in my tracks, mentally preparing myself for the experience to come. What sort of place would Lucy become the proprietress of? I wondered silently. A restaurant? A pub? A cabaret? A...brothel?
A gentle nudge from Frederick propelled me through the front door. What I saw was far from what I expected. The Garden was not, as I feared, an exact copy of the putrid Red Rat at all. In fact, I had never seen a place so remarkably different from the Red Rat. I looked around in utter delight. The Garden looked more like an oversized parlor than a seedy pub. At the various tables neatly positioned around the room, entire families dined. In the back corner of the room, a group of well-dressed young gentlemen were engaged in a thoughtful discussion. None of these people seemed to take notice of my young companion or myself. I shook my head in disbelief. This forum for thought and family entertainment was the brainchild of Lucy Harris?
Frederick led me to an unattended bar made of polished cherry wood. I sat down hesitantly, trying to mask my trepidation. The confrontation to come would be one of the most difficult of my life. I could feel it.
My efforts to appear nonchalant must have failed miserably, for Frederick sensed my tension. "Relax, dear fellow," he said, smirking. "I've never known any of these girls to meet someone they didn't like."
I nodded tersely.
"This girl of yours must be an intimidating job, the way you're acting...Ron!"
His assessment of my manner was interrupted as a pretty young girl with jet-black hair and honey-colored eyes approached the bar. She was dressed to the nines - a dress of impeccable lilac silk was accented by a shiny gold locket that hung around her neck. I didn't feel any need to ask what that locket contained. Her appearance caused Frederick to smile so broadly that it bordered on the embarrassing.
However, when she began to speak, a completely different person from the one that appeared before us managed to emerge. A type of person I recognized.
"'Ello, love," the girl purred. "And 'ow are you doin' this beautiful evenin'?"
Frederick stood and wrapped his arms around her waist.
"Considerably better, now that I'm with you," he beamed back.
Before I could clear my throat to remind Frederick of my presence, the girl gave me an inquisitive glance and spoke.
"And who do you think you are, Freddie, bringing a friend and not introducing us properly?" She narrowed her eyes in mock suspicion.
Frederick blushed. "Sorry, darling. It is my honor to introduce you to Dr. Henry Jekyll, of London. Dr. Jekyll, this is Veronica White."
I extended my hand. "It is a pleasure, miss."
"The pleasure is all mine, Doctor. And to what do we owe the pleasure of your company tonight?" she asked politely.
"Actually, Miss White, I'm here to meet your manageress. I believe we knew each other...a long time ago, and if so, I wish to renew our acquaintance."
"You know Luce?" she drawled. The girl had an unmistakable Cockney accent, and I wondered whether I had actually seen her during the stormy times I spent in the Red Rat. "Why didn't you say so? I'll go get her for you!" She disappeared through a door behind the bar.
I was overwhelmed. How do I go about setting things aright? What can I possibly say?
Before I could answer these relentless questions, I was stopped dead in my tracks as I looked into a pair of chocolate eyes that met my startled own. I was instantaneously taken back to another world - a world of smoke and mirrors, of endless vice, of pure opportunity - when a warm, familiar voice shattered my reverie.
"'Enry?" it whispered. "'Enry Jekyll? Is that really you?"
I did not stop to think or speak. A weeping Lucy Harris, looking more ravishing than I ever remembered, sought my embrace, and I enfolded her in my trembling arms.
After strolling inconspicuously across the street, Frederick and I found ourselves in front of the Garden. I stopped dead in my tracks, mentally preparing myself for the experience to come. What sort of place would Lucy become the proprietress of? I wondered silently. A restaurant? A pub? A cabaret? A...brothel?
A gentle nudge from Frederick propelled me through the front door. What I saw was far from what I expected. The Garden was not, as I feared, an exact copy of the putrid Red Rat at all. In fact, I had never seen a place so remarkably different from the Red Rat. I looked around in utter delight. The Garden looked more like an oversized parlor than a seedy pub. At the various tables neatly positioned around the room, entire families dined. In the back corner of the room, a group of well-dressed young gentlemen were engaged in a thoughtful discussion. None of these people seemed to take notice of my young companion or myself. I shook my head in disbelief. This forum for thought and family entertainment was the brainchild of Lucy Harris?
Frederick led me to an unattended bar made of polished cherry wood. I sat down hesitantly, trying to mask my trepidation. The confrontation to come would be one of the most difficult of my life. I could feel it.
My efforts to appear nonchalant must have failed miserably, for Frederick sensed my tension. "Relax, dear fellow," he said, smirking. "I've never known any of these girls to meet someone they didn't like."
I nodded tersely.
"This girl of yours must be an intimidating job, the way you're acting...Ron!"
His assessment of my manner was interrupted as a pretty young girl with jet-black hair and honey-colored eyes approached the bar. She was dressed to the nines - a dress of impeccable lilac silk was accented by a shiny gold locket that hung around her neck. I didn't feel any need to ask what that locket contained. Her appearance caused Frederick to smile so broadly that it bordered on the embarrassing.
However, when she began to speak, a completely different person from the one that appeared before us managed to emerge. A type of person I recognized.
"'Ello, love," the girl purred. "And 'ow are you doin' this beautiful evenin'?"
Frederick stood and wrapped his arms around her waist.
"Considerably better, now that I'm with you," he beamed back.
Before I could clear my throat to remind Frederick of my presence, the girl gave me an inquisitive glance and spoke.
"And who do you think you are, Freddie, bringing a friend and not introducing us properly?" She narrowed her eyes in mock suspicion.
Frederick blushed. "Sorry, darling. It is my honor to introduce you to Dr. Henry Jekyll, of London. Dr. Jekyll, this is Veronica White."
I extended my hand. "It is a pleasure, miss."
"The pleasure is all mine, Doctor. And to what do we owe the pleasure of your company tonight?" she asked politely.
"Actually, Miss White, I'm here to meet your manageress. I believe we knew each other...a long time ago, and if so, I wish to renew our acquaintance."
"You know Luce?" she drawled. The girl had an unmistakable Cockney accent, and I wondered whether I had actually seen her during the stormy times I spent in the Red Rat. "Why didn't you say so? I'll go get her for you!" She disappeared through a door behind the bar.
I was overwhelmed. How do I go about setting things aright? What can I possibly say?
Before I could answer these relentless questions, I was stopped dead in my tracks as I looked into a pair of chocolate eyes that met my startled own. I was instantaneously taken back to another world - a world of smoke and mirrors, of endless vice, of pure opportunity - when a warm, familiar voice shattered my reverie.
"'Enry?" it whispered. "'Enry Jekyll? Is that really you?"
I did not stop to think or speak. A weeping Lucy Harris, looking more ravishing than I ever remembered, sought my embrace, and I enfolded her in my trembling arms.
