Warnings at the bottom of the chapter.


Chapter Seventeen:

Walls Can Hide You


"She didn't hit her middle, right?"

"She didn't. She landed on her back."

"She's fainted?"

No, I'm awake. I'm here.

"What was she doing?"

"I don't know. There was an argument and-and I think she was trying to . . . distract them."

"She was?"

Someone ran their hand through her hair. Johanna melted into the touch.

"I need both of you to leave. Now."

"I'm not leaving her!"

"Sir, I think your daughter would appreciate her dignity. Now, please, go with Mr. Hope. I'll take care of this."

"You'll tell us when you figure out what's going on?"

"As soon as possible."

A door shut.

Her head.

Johanna groaned.

She could feel the woman - she assumed the touch was from a woman - tugging at her skirts. Her reflexes told her to fight, but her legs were heavier than any tray covered with pies. Johanna couldn't lift them if she tried. She couldn't lift her arms, either.

"You'll be all right, Mrs. Hope. I can assure you."

The moments seemed to drag on forever. Within that time, Johanna recognized the voice of Mrs. Thomas. Mr. Todd and Anthony were here earlier. Those were their voices. She wanted them back.

Somehow Mrs. Thomas found out. As she worked, she soothed her,

"It's all right, it's all right. I'm gunna get them. Just you wait."

The door opened.

"Johanna!"

Anthony.

She fluttered her eyelids open. It was like something was stuck inside her eye and she couldn't stop blinking. But soon Anthony's face was there. A blur, but at least she could make out his features. At least he was here.

"What's wrong?"

Mr. Todd.

Johanna could imagine him crossing his arms over his chest.

"I feared it was a placenta abruption upon closer inspection, I don't believe it is. That said, keep her in bed. Monitor her. Allow me to stay until she's fully awake and I'll return in a few days to check up on her."

She opened her mouth. All that left it were a few low whimpers. Anthony adjusted himself to a knee and took her hand, rubbing circles on her wrist with his finger. His concern refused to leave his features, even as he smiled.

"Baby?"

"They'll be all right. Mrs. Thomas said so."

Mrs. Thomas asked her a brief series of questions before Mr. Todd offered to escort her out. Anthony knelt by Johanna's side, squeezing her hand with lines of worry dragged across his forehead. Johanna watched them leave.


"Johanna lives with you, then?" Mrs. Thomas asked in a nosy tone. She didn't hide it. Sweeney stopped liking her just like that.

"She does."

"Why not with her husband? Or does he live in the apartment with her?"

Sweeney hesitated. "He doesn't."

Mrs. Thomas glanced up at him. "Well, why doesn't he?"

"Why do you need to know?"

"Mrs. Hope is my patient." She made it sound like it was obvious. "There are things I should know about her. And if I'm worried, I need to help her." She coughed into a handkerchief. "Tell me again what you saw when she took that fall."

Desperation. His daughter was splattered on the floor. Barely breathing.

Sweeney had seen a pregnant woman look like that before. In prison. Blood splattered on the ground. She arched her neck towards the sun, gasping for breath. He learned later neither she nor the baby of them made it.

"She was on the ground with her ankle around a chair leg. There were chairs everywhere. Anthony was beside her, trying to help her up. I couldn't make out what he was saying. I brought her upstairs and told him to get you."

There. The truth. Honest and blunt.

Mrs. Thomas didn't look convinced.

"Why were there chairs everywhere, Mr. Todd?"

"We aren't sure." He paused. "Anthony thinks it was meant to serve as a distraction to me and Mrs. Lovett's fight. Johanna . . . avoids conflict best she can."

"Is Mrs. Lovett an aunt? Stepmother?"

His chest surged with a fire-like flare at stepmother. "Mrs. Lovett is of no relation."

"What is Mrs. Lovett then in your life? Why didn't she help Johanna?"

Because Johanna reminds her of Lucy and her jealousy. She impedes playing "family".

"Mrs. Lovett is my neighbor."

"Mr. Todd, why does Johanna live with you instead of her husband?"

He couldn't give an answer. Or the answer Mrs. Thomas was searching for.

"We were . . . separated for some time. I cannot part with her."

"What caused this separation?"

What was the cause of all these questions?

"It's a complicated story. Not one I'm willing to share."

Mrs. Thomas studied him. Sweeney threw open the door, gesturing her to it. Or perhaps Johanna wouldn't realize if her midwife disappeared and suddenly she had a new one. But Mrs. Thomas stepped out the door.

"Good day, Mrs. Thomas."

"Good day, Mr. Todd."

Sweeney closed the door behind her, noticing her looking back. He ducked into the kitchen, where Mrs. Lovett was with Toby. He munched at a pie. Mrs. Lovett looked up. Upon seeing him, she issued Toby out, ignoring his protests. Once Toby was out, she looked up.

"Why didn't you help her?" Sweeney asked, stepping forward.

"Like you said yerself, I don't care for her."

"Ah, but I thought you cared for me. You could've helped her!"

"I couldn't have! You know I hate her. I wouldn't have helped her. Even if I could."

"You want her dead."

She stood on her toes and neared the door. The only confirmation he needed. On her way out, she stopped and turned around.

"If you're so worried about 'er, why don't you check on 'er?"

Wordlessly, Sweeney passed Mrs. Lovett, sending a warning look her way. He climbed up the stairs, but paused before entering the room. It seemed top private, too personal to jut in now.

"I know I said I didn't think . . . we could leave. But I wanted to. It's just not possible now."

"No," Anthony breathed, "We'll have to wait."

With a surge of anger, Sweeney twisted the doorknob. His daughter and Anthony paused and waited a moment. The urge to throw open the door melted away. They continued their conversation in inaudible whispers. Johanna yawned.

"It's dark out," she said, "I think I should have a rest. Just a brief one."

"Allow me fluff up your pillow, miss."

Johanna giggled. "Much better, thank you, kind sir."

"Well, anything for my lady."

There was a pause.

"Anthony, I love you."

The light in the boy's voice was almost blinding as he said,

"I love you too, Johanna."

Sweeney hesitated. Everything inside him told him to open the door. Demand that Johanna never leave. Johanna was his daughter. Throw Anthony out and chase him away for good, but he couldn't. Inside that room, he heard a young couple. Johanna and Anthony. But also Benjamin Barker and his Lucy.

There was Benjamin Barker in that apartment. Kissing his wife good morning and adjusting the curtains so the light shone through the way she liked. His pregnant wife patted her stomach and wished him luck as he ducked through the door. Benjamin Barker smiled back at her. Promising to pick up the pound cake she liked after work. And Benjamin Barker was gone.

He moved out of the way to allow Anthony through. He jolted back at the sight of him, but recovered to gently close the door.

"How is she?" Sweeney asked.

"She's tired. Jittery after what happened." Anthony paused. His fingers swept across the doorknob. He backed away. "I think she'll rest well."

"May I see her?"

Sweeney shouldn't have to ask to see his daughter. That was ridiculous. Yet he felt he was intruding on something private.

Anthony nodded, stepping away. "'I'll get her something to eat when she wakes up."

Sweeney took the doorknob and allowed himself in.

Sometimes, it seemed like the only peace was in sleep. Especially today. Johanna looked tense, with rigid motions and frantic nods. But now she was at peace. Those stressed looks relaxed. Her lips were slightly parted. Her hair was carefully laid over her shoulder. Anthony was to thank for that. One hand laid across her belly, protective, like a mother duck.

His mind flashed back to the first time he saw her like this. Lucy was sound asleep when Johanna cried out. Having nursed her minutes before, she could barely lift her arm. Benjamin squeezed her hand, assuring her he would take care of Johanna. Benjamin Barker stopped down and broke into a smile. He soothed her. Relaxed her. Until he laid her back into the cradle. With the same expression and posture. She was peaceful back then. They all were.

"I love you," Benjamin Barker used to say.

Sweeney squeezed her fingertips. He could not hold her like he did back then - it would wake her. Heaven knew she needed the rest she could get.

Sleep well.


"Any pains at all?"

Johanna looked up at him. "I'm fine, Anthony, just like I was two minutes ago."

"Anything can happen in two minutes."

She rolled her eyes. "Nothing is the matter with me. You, on the other hand-"

Anthony furrowed his brow and pointed to himself. She would have laughed out loud. But kept a straight face. Johanna looked away when she cracked a smile. He couldn't see. Her eyelid twitched.

"Me?"

"Yes, you." Johanna removed her tray from her lap and moved it to the bedside table. Anthony stooped down to assist her, furthering her point. She rolled her eyes. "You are hovering much too much. Anthony, I love you, but you're leaving tomorrow. You need to pack and take care of other necessities."

"I know. But I think it's more important for me to be here now. I can finish it later."

It wasn't that Johanna hated his hovering. She didn't mind it at all. In fact, she liked in a way. She'd heard stories of other expectant mothers and how protective their husbands got. Johanna was sick of protective figures in her life, but Anthony's worry was comforting. At least he was here for now and at least he cared.

"Anthony, Mrs. Thomas is going to be here in ten minutes. You should be on your way."

He fumbled with his coat pocket. "I'll wait for Mrs. Thomas. Then I'll leave. Promise."

Her gaze wandered to the window, where she could see a woman carrying a black bag. She looked around before crossing the street.

"That looks like Mrs. Thomas now," Johanna said, "Could you escort her up here, please?"

Anthony kissed her knuckles. "I'll be right back with her."

Mrs. Thomas greeted him with a scowl. She gripped her bag tighter, holding it in a way she could swing it up and strike him across the face. Anthony attempted a smile, fearing it looked more like a grimace.

"Hello, Mrs. Thomas," he said, "Johanna said I should escort you there."

"Well, here I am," she snapped.

Mrs. Thomas tucked her hair back into its tight bun, missing, though she didn't seem to care. She mumbled something under her breath. Anthony put two fingers behind his ear, gesturing in a way to show he hadn't understood.

"I'm sorry, what was that, ma'am?"

"Nothing, sir," she said through gritted teeth. She pursed her lips.

They arrived at the room. Anthony allowed Mrs. Thomas to enter first and came in after her. Mrs. Thomas scowled as he moved to where Johanna was sitting up in bed. He smiled at her, but she snapped away. Anthony kissed Johanna's cheek and whispered,

"I don't think she likes me very much."

Johanna furrowed her brow and frowned.

Louder, Anthony continued,

"I'm off on my way, Jo. I'll be back soon." He turned back to find Mrs. Thomas spreading out her things. Their eyes met for a moment before he looked away. "I love you, darling."

"I love you too, Anthony. Very much."

Anthony left. Johanna looked at Mrs. Thomas and adjusted herself on the bed. Her breath hitched in her throat. She cleared it, but stopped. What were wives supposed to do when someone didn't like their husband? No one ever told her. She looked back at Mrs. Thomas. How could anyone dislike Anthony?

"He's quite the gentleman, isn't he?" Johanna settled on.

Mrs. Thomas pursed her lips. "Have you had any pain?"

"No. Even if I did, I know Anthony would assist me through it. Did I ever tell you that when I had a headache, he read to me until I was better?"

"I don't think you mentioned it. Lie down."

She did. "I thought it was the most romantic thing."

Mrs. Thomas stared at her, but continued. Johanna settled back. Yes, that was good, she believed. She stood up for her husband. Without mentioning Anthony again.

"Starting tomorrow, you're off bedrest. Now, be careful, but you don't have a ruptured placenta. It's a good thing you fell the way you did."

"What would've happened if I didn't . . . like you said 'fall right?'" She bit her lip.

Mrs. Thomas closed her bag. "Oh, many things. Something like that causes many mothers to go into labor or we have to induce it. Sometimes the baby doesn't make it. Sometimes the mother doesn't make it."

"Oh." Johanna's hand flew to her belly, grateful for the baby resting still inside. "Thank you, Mrs. Thomas. I would have Anthony see you out, but he's making a few preparations."

Before she could ask "What preparations?", Mrs. Thomas left. Johanna wished she could ask how this rumor or thought about Anthony began, but it was best left alone. Anthony returned to spend the night with her.

When she woke up, he was out of bed, buttoning his trousers. Johanna smiled. If only every day could begin like this. She lifted herself up. The creak of the bedspring got Anthony's attention and he beamed.

"I didn't mean to wake you," he said with his shirt unbuttoned. He sat on the bed.

Johanna pulled one of his buttons through. "I wanted to see you before you had to go."

He let her finish with his buttons. They shared a kiss and lingered. Johanna gripped his upper arm. Savoring the way it felt.

"I think I'm going to miss you even more," she whispered.

"I promise, I'll write to you all the time. You'll hear from me so much, you'll get sick of my penmanship."

She giggled. "I don't think I ever could."

Their foreheads touched.

"I love you, Johanna."

"I love you too, Anthony."

As she watched him leave, it hurt even more than it had before. There was an ache in her chest as she turned away.

"It's okay, baby," Johanna said, cupping her stomach with a hand, "Your father will be home soon."

Anthony didn't want to be called "Father", she remembered. That was too formal. He didn't like "Pa" either.

They would figure it out.

"He'll be back."

She found her way out of bed and stepped into her shoes, feeling like a baby taking their first cautious steps. Johanna slipped on her petticoats and dress. She found her way downstairs, leaning on the railing. Mrs. Lovett was already inviting in the first customers. She jolted back, blinking. Johanna shrugged.

"Good morning, Mrs. Lovett," Johanna said.

"I didn't know you'd be down here today."

"Well." She took a step and held her hands behind her back. "I'm always willing to help, when-if you need it."

When Mrs. Lovett said nothing, Johanna took it as a sign to get started. Pausing every few moments to listen to herself, as Mrs. Thomas instructed her to. She felt silly, pausing every now and then to stop and think. She wasn't in any pain. Besides, it annoyed Mrs. Lovett.

"I got you something," Mr. Todd said later that day. He held out a box. "Here."

Tentatively, she took the parcel. Johanna sat at the table and wiped her hands on her apron before tearing the brown paper off. She pulled off the top.

It was a doll.

With caramel curls and a sky blue dress. The face was porcelain, with painted red cheeks. Long, dark eyelashes shaped her eyes.

It was beautiful.

Johanna looked up at Mr. Todd. It was a gift. A beautiful, wonderful, nostalgic gift with meaning behind it. She couldn't make out a word. What would she say even if she could?

"Thank you," she choked out.

"I thought if it's a girl, she could have it."

Seeing Mr. Todd talk about babies was unusual. Yet welcome.

"It's beautiful."

The baby was a boy, but she would keep it. The doll meant the world to her already. She loved it.

Johanna jumped up and wrapped her arms around him.

She was hesitant once in his embrace. Maybe he wasn't fond of physical protection. Or-

He held her back.

Johanna didn't want to let go. He was big and his skin was cold. But the touch was sunshine. Johanna was a freezing animal. She was addicted.

With some hesitation, she let go. Mr. Todd was reluctant.

Once the shop was closed, Johanna climbed into bed and hugged the doll to her.


Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy problems