Warnings at the bottom of the chapter.


Chapter Nineteen:

In the Dark


Her ankles swelled beneath her and Johanna was all but certain she was going to topple over.

She wasn't all that big. Well, she was big for petite herself. But Mrs. Thomas knew of penty of women who were bigger than Johanna at six months. Johanna shouldn't listen to the terrible thoughts about herself. She shouldn't even be having those thoughts. Johanna wasn't as wide as an elephant and she should be proud of that.

After Mrs. Thomas assured her that she was developing nicely, Johanna stopped worrying. About the size of her womb of course. Some women carried their babies out front. Some were more hidden towards the spine. Johanna was perfectly healthy. Aside from being somewhat underweight. That was easily fixed, however. If Johanna had the motivation to eat more. But she felt, well, big.

A little foot kicked her ribs hourly. Minutely. Every kick was a reminder. It was as if her baby wanted to say, "I'm right here! Remember me!" How could Johanna forget? They lived in her. Such a thing was hard to forget.

Johanna passed a plate over to Toby. Taking the opportunity to sit down. The chair was hard and was more like sitting on the dirt ground, but she nestled into it and leaned back.

"Over here miss, please!"

With a groan, Johanna reached to the counter to pull herself back up. She couldn't. She was stuck.

She was stuck on this uncomfortable chair for eternity. She would give birth here. Kiss Anthony from here. Read and sew in this very position.

Mr. Todd passed her. Urgency flowing through each vein, she reached out to him. He didn't notice. He neared a man. A customer. If she didn't get his help now, she never would. He would get distracted and she would still be stuck here.

"Mr. Todd, wait!" Johanna called out.

He turned around as his eyes darted around, searching for the one who called his name. Before he noticed Johanna. Mr. Todd noticed the chair and his features light with recognition.

Mr. Todd used both hands to lift her up. Johanan wobbled and his hands sturdied her. With an embarrassed smile, she looked at him.

"Thank you, sir."

He nodded.

Johanna nodded and walked off to help the customer, wincing with each step. She poured the ale, served the pies, didn't try to sit. All in a day's work.

Arms wrapped around her shoulders.

She beamed and kissed Anthony's hand.

"I missed you," Johanna said, turning around.

"I missed you more."

She wrapped her arms around his waist.

"I missed you most."

They kissed.

"When does the shop close?" Anthony asked. Innocently enough, but she saw the reason behind his question, causing her to laugh and bop his nose.

"Soon. Can I get you something in the meantime? It's all on the house."

Anthony wrinkled his eyebrow. "Does Mrs. Lovett allow that?"

"Only for a few exceptions." Johanna caressed his cheek. "Be glad you're one of them."

"I can assure you, miss, that I am."

She laughed. "It is quite the honor."

"I need ale!"

Johanna sighed. Anthony slumped his frame and let her go. They shared a quick kiss before she turned away.

They found themselves in the bed later that day. Johanna was beyond exhausted from her workday. Anthony buried himself in her hair, making her laugh. She rolled over, clutching her stomach, as if it might fall off if she didn't.

"Anthony, do you think I'm . . ." She consitored her words. If he didn't hear her, she wouldn't continue, she decided.

"You're what?"

Johannna took a breath. "Do you think I'm pretty?"

Anthony wrinkled his brows, jolting almost as he adjusted himself to look better at her. He brushed the hair away from her face.

"I think you're beautiful beyond belief," he said, "You're so beautiful, I thought I imagined you when I saw you for the first time. I was astonished to realize you were real." He intertwined his fingers with hers. "Johanna, you're everything to me and more. I love you."

It was such a foolish question but relief poured in like sunlight at his words. Why did she ask?

"You think so?"

"With everything I've got. You are wind and water and sky."

He was gone more frequently. According to Anthony, he had wasted time. They needed funds. They needed more time to prepare for the baby's arrival. Johanna needed strength. Everything seemed just out of reach. If Johanna could stand on the tips of her toes and reach up, she would be able to grab it. They would be safe. But she couldn't stand like that with her swollen ankles.

Johanna plopped herself down at the table with a heavy sigh. Anthony looked up from his book and set it aside, taking her hand instead.

"What's wrong, Jo?" he asked.

She sighed, gazing at the floor. "Anthony, are you afraid to die?"

Although Johanna wasn't looking at him, she knew he was taken aback by her question. Anthony hesitated before answering.

"I suppose I am. I've never heard of any man who wasn't." He paused. "Why the morbid question?" He gave a short chuckle.

"If I die, Anthony, I want you to leave London with our child."

Anthony gripped her hand. "Johanna!"

"I want you to check on Mr. Todd. I don't want him to fall back into . . . whatever that was."

"Johanna-"

She looked up at him. "I want you to remind him of our child. Of me. I wouldn't want this."

"Want what? Johanna, you're-"

"Anthony, face the truth. I might die. There's been . . . so many women who have died from childbirth. I'm fragile. I'm weak. I may be one of those women." Johanna grabbed his wrist with her other hand. "I need to be prepared."

He shook his head. "You're not going to die, though, Jo. You're the strongest person I know. You saved yourself and-"

"-Got myself trapped again." Johanna leaned over the table to kiss his cheek. "I have to be prepared." She caressed his cheek. "You're going to be a wonderful father."

"And you're going to be a wonderful mother."

Johanna gave a sad smile before turning away.

"Wait." Anthony took her arm. She turned back around. "Are you afraid of dying?"

She paused.

Everyone was afraid of dying. Everyone normal, at least. They feared death like good God fearing citizens. But Johanna wasn't from an ordinary upbringing. Nor was she leading a normal life. Was she afraid of death? Was she afraid of facing the same fate of Mr. Todd's victims? Or did she welcome death?

"I don't know," Johanna said, "I suppose when the time comes for me to die, I'll know then I guess."

She gave a small smile - which she hoped was comforting.

"I hope so."

Anthony stopped her before she left again. Johanna signalled to Toby to take over. He nodded and poured ale for the gentlemen at the table. She noted he poured a glass for himself, as well.

"While we're on the topic," Anthony said, slowly, "It's quite a grim topic, but I had a question for you."

"Go on."

He leaned back. "Well, a few weeks ago, when Mr. Todd and Mrs. Lovett were fighting, I overheard something. Mr. Todd said something along the lines of, 'I promised Johanna I wouldn't kill once Turpin was gone.'" Anthony furrowed his brow. "Do you have any idea what he meant?"

Johanna's heart plummeted to the pit of her stomach. He heard. She could hear her breathing. He knew. He hadn't forgotten. She'd hoped he had after getting distracted for so long. But she could tell it had been troubling him. With a heavy heart, Johanna gripped his hand and forced a smile. She had to lie.

"I'm sure it was nothing more than an inside joke or story," she said.

"They like to joke about death?"

Johanna gave a chuckle without mirth in it. "Mr. Todd seems to be the type who has a dark humor."

"I suppose so . . ." He paused and took a sip of his drink. "After you told me about the man, I asked Mr. Todd about him. He told me I wouldn't have to worry about the kidnapper again."

He didn't. Johanna closed her eyes and bowed her head. Mr. Todd promised her. No more deaths. No more blood. She opened her mouth.

"An example of his humor, no doubt."

"It was a strange circumstance to joke about."

"Well." She adjusted herself. "Many convicts must like them. They live-lived hard lives."

"That makes sense." Anthony looked up. "Wait, convicts?"

Her world froze again.

Well, of course Mr. Todd wouldn't admit to being an escaped convict. Especially not to his rescuers. They might send him back or let him drown.

Johanna looked back at Anthony.

She bit her lip and tapped on the table.

"An example, I assure you, Anthony. I don't know much about Mr. Todd's previous life, but it was an example."

"I've always assumed he was a shipwrecked sailor. He mentioned to me that he'd traveled far distances."

Johanna nodded frantically. "Yes, that makes perfect sense. I will have to ask him later."

"All right."

She surveyed the room. Toby was pouring himself another drink. How many made this one?

"Sorry, Anthony, but I better get back to work."

Johanna rose. He kissed her hand.

As she turned away, she looked back. Anthony smiled. He wouldn't know, right? There wasn't anyone who could tell him.

The day went on as normal. She filled glasses. She served pies. Mrs. Lovett chatted. Toby brought in more customers. Worry settled in her stomach. She hated herself for lying to Anthony but what else was she supposed to do? Johanna couldn't tell him. Unless Mr. Todd gave his consent. Or, well . . . She didn't know.

Setting aside her stresses, she approached Toby, whose cheek was squashed on the table. His eyes were half open and a mug was inches away from his fingertips. Johanna sat next to him.

"Should you be drinking that much?" she asked.

"I like it," Toby said, drawing out his words.

Turpin never had more than the occasional scotch. The beadle liked his whiskey, making him the only drunk she'd encountered. Johanna was disgusted by his behavior. The way he slurred his words and laughed at nothing. He stood too close to Johanna when he was intoxicated no matter what she did. She wanted to tell him drinking was a sin, like her governess told her, but the judge drank and he wasn't a sinner. Did that make drinking a sin or not?

As she looked over at Toby, she felt only pity for him. He was young and there was nothing to compare him to the beadle.

Johanna helped him up. He leaned on her. She adjusted his arm so it hung over her waist. She caressed his cheek as she helped him into Mrs. Lovett's parlor. Johanna settled him on the sofa there. She tapped his cheek lightly.

"There you go," Johanna said, "Comfortable?"

Toby raised his arm at the edge of the sofa. As Johanan followed his finger, she noticed the quilt at the end of the couch. She lifted herself off and tucked the blanket around his neck.

"Should I get Mrs. Lovett?" she wondered, keeping her voice low.

But his eyes were closed. Asleep, she assumed. Good. Johanna turned away. A hand grabbed her skirts.

"Get Mum," Toby muttered.

Johanna nodded. "I will."

Mrs. Lovett was easy to find. She was laughing with a few customers. Johanna stood behind them, wringing her hands until there was a lull in the conversation. She tapped Mrs. Lovett's shoulder, making her turn around. She narrowed her eyes.

"Toby isn't feeling well," Johanna said, "I can close up shop if you want to see to him in the parlor."

Mrs. Lovett cocked her head, but nodded. She said goodbye to the guests, leaving Johanna to close up.

As she turned back to the parlor, her step was frantic.


Warnings: Alcohol, self-hatred, mentions of death, mentions of murder