Warnings at the bottom of the chapter.
Chapter Twenty-Three:
Another Bright Red Day
Johanna woke the next morning feeling strange.
It was not a feeling she could describe. Just strange.
She pushed away the feelings of weirdness and trampled downstairs. Where she ducked into the storage closet again. It felt like ages ago when she found her mother's journals. Back when Johanna was leaner and didn't wobble and could wear her best shoes. Months ago.
This was her place to indulge in fantasy and her thoughts. But the one that kept coming to her mind, (besides her muscles spasming in her lower belly), was of her mother. She was dead. But how did she die? Childbirth, perhaps? It didn't seem likely, but it was possible. Johanna didn't have any memories of her. No, it couldn't be. Turpin hurt her before then. She poisoned herself. Was it the poison? Something within herself told her no.
Johanna wobbled upstairs, preparing to knock on the barbershop door, when she heard an all-too-familiar crank. A turn. A push.
She threw the door open.
Down slid a bloody body from the chair. Into the hole below.
Johanna looked up at Mr. Todd. Unable to move her lips. Everything was shaking.
"Hasn't this addiction of yours done enough damage already?"
She could hear the words in her voice, but didn't feel herself making them.
"I can explain, Johanna-"
"No! You can't explain!"
Her chest was on fire.
Mr. Todd neared her. With his bloody hands and shirt stained red. She backed away. Johanna couldn't stand near a murderer.
"How do you explain taking the life of another man? Was he beneath you? He could have a family, a home! You didn't even think of them. Imagine, his wife and children right now, waiting for their father or husband to come home. And then, he doesn't. You just created a widow and fatherless children. I was a fatherless child!"
"He was a guest at the ball," Mr. Todd said, louder than her, "While Turpin raped your mother, all he did was laugh!"
"Oh, so that makes it-"
"I did what I had to do, Johanna! He didn't deserve to life. He deserved to rot-"
She clenched her fist. "Oh, speaking of my mother, what happened to her? Maybe he would meet the same fate. Maybe he would-"
Mr. Todd took dangerous steps towards her. Johanna backed away a little, before she charged into him. Their eyes were close now. Darting to each other. Fueled by individual anger.
"Your mother did meet the same fate!"
"What do you mean?"
"I killed her!"
Johanna walked back. She blinked. Again. Again. Again. Yet his words didn't become any clearer.
"What?"
Mr. Todd jutted his arms out. "I killed her! Didn't know it was her until it was too late. She's dead because of me."
Killed. Dead. Her mother. Him.
Oh, goodness.
Johanna wasn't breathing. Her chest moved up and down in frantic beats. But she wasn't breathing. Johanna reached for the doorknob. It took several tries to pulled it open. She looked back at Mr. Todd's fiery eyes as she drifted out the door.
Murderer.
She scrambled out of the shop. Mrs. Lovett noticed.
"Hey!" she called out.
Johanna threw herself out the door. Without thinking of her shawl. She found her way down the streets. Turning at the right corners until she was there.
The Gentle Doves Inn.
Room seventeen. That was Anthony's. She weaved throughout the rooms. Until she found it. Seventeen. Johanna took the spare key Anthony had provided her with and unlocked it.
He wasn't there.
"Anthony?" she called out.
Not in the adjacent room. Nor the bedroom.
"Anthony?"
Her stomach twidged.
At least, she was away from them. The pie shop and the killer. If Mr. Todd murdered his own wife in cold blood, he wouldn't hesitate to stab her with a razor, too. It was as if they were nothing more to him than his customers.
Johanna curled onto the bed. Sliding off some of her petticoats and pulling the spare quilt over her body.
She felt a pinch.
Johanna rolled onto her other side, but the pressure didn't go away. She remained in that position, yawning as her muscles tightened more. Anthony will be back soon, just as he promised.
Soon enough, he walked through the door. He stopped when he noticed her.
"Johanna?"
She burst into tears.
Anthony crawled into bed with her. Johanna leaned up against his chest. She cried into his shirt, clutching his collar. Feeling him calmed her down a little but her fears prodding at her worsened; falling from one extreme to another. At least Anthony was here now.
He listened to her babbles. Even Johanna didn't know what they meant. It just felt good to be speaking to him. Anthony rubbed her back. She eased into his massage on her lower back. She couldn't tell him much. She couldn't tell him about her poor mother or her father. Murderer.
"I can't go back," Johanna said, whimpering.
"You don't have to. I'm right here." He paused. "Johanna, you didn't run here, did you?"
She sniffled. "I did. I had to get away. Why?"
"Mrs. Thomas said that wasn't good."
"I'm sure, it's all right. It wasn't far."
Johanna leaned a hand on his chest. A pain came. She clutched her fist.
Mrs. Thomas warned her of false contractions. Especially now. Thirty-four weeks in. They were common and she'd experienced them before.
Then again, Johanna never had that strange feeling with them.
Anthony snuggled her in bed. Their foreheads touched. She smiled. But her grin twisted into a grimace as another pain came. He sat up.
"What is it?" he asked.
"Nothing."
It was always something.
The pinching became more intense. She asked for the time. He told her. Johanna settled herself into another position. It didn't go away.
"Anthony, what time is it?" she asked again.
"About a minute since you last asked." Anthony moved the hair from her face. "Why?"
"No reason."
Minutes passed. The aching in her belly and back didn't go away. Another narrowing pain came. Johanna's mouth opened. She gripped the bedknob. Once it faded into a dull throb, she asked for the time again.
"Twelve 'o three," he answered, "Jo, are you sure?"
12:03. A minute after the last time she checked.
Her legs cramped. Her stomach spun.
"Anthony, I think I'm going to have the baby."
He gave a chuckle. "Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I know."
"No. I'm having the baby now."
"Now?"
Anthony's eyes widened. Johanna nodded, half smiling, half wincing.
"I think so." She took a breath. "You need to get Mrs. Thomas."
"Mrs. Thomas, of course, but . . ." Anthony trailed off, with a blank expression. He took her hand, which snapped him back to reality. "The baby? No, Johanna! Not now. She said you had a few more weeks! It can't be coming now."
Her stomach lurched at the reminder. "I don't know! But I think it's coming. I-I . . . It shouldn't be, but it is!"
"Can't you tell it not to come yet?"
"Don't you think I've tried!"
Anthony headed for the door, but paused and turned to look at her. Johanna folded herself over. Clutching her belly as her face twisted. Why won't he get her? She knew Mrs. Thomas wouldn't help with these pains - it wasn't possible - but she needed her here.
"I can't just leave you like this," Anthony said.
"Yes, you can! Go! Get her!"
With some hesitation, he left. Johanna tugged at her hair. Pulled at the bedknob. Pinched the skin between her fingers. Mrs. Thomas's appearance brought more than relief. She scanned the room, with a frown. Please don't ask any questions.
To her relief, Mrs. Thomas didn't. She stripped Johanna to her chemise and spread her on the bed.
"I hope you have spare sheets and towels," she said.
"I can ask the landlady for some."
Once Anthony returned with the sheets, Mrs. Thomas grabbed them. She looked at the couple before setting up her things.
"Better say goodbye to each other now," she said, "Mr. Hope needs to go now."
Johanna's eyes widened. Well, she knew that. But that part of childbirth never seemed real to her. If a husband saw his wife in such a time at place, they wouldn't see her the same.
Their fingertips touched. Anthony kissed her knuckles.
"You're going to do wonderfully," he whispered, "You're amazing, Jo."
She smiled. "Remember what I said about my death?" His face fell, he wanted to argue. "I'm not saying I will die, but remember what I said." Johanna kissed his cheek. "I love you, Anthony."
"I love you."
With longing gazes, he left.
"Now, who else are you expecting to come by and help?" Mrs. Thomas questioned.
"Well, no one." Johanna hesitated, feeling her irritation. "I'm sorry. Was I suppose to . . . ?"
"It's easier that way - with more women. But we can make do. I'll send for my niece. We'll do fine that way."
Anthony was sent to find the niece. He returned with a tall, spout girl, a few years older than herself. Her small dark eyes held judgement as she studied Johanna. Mrs. Thomas took her to the side. They exchanged whispers before returning. She tried a smile.
"This is my niece, Alverta," Mrs. Thomas said, gesturing, "She's been helping me out lately. Alverta, Mrs. Hope."
"Thank you for coming on such short notice."
A contraction prevented Johanna from saying anymore. She couldn't make out a sound. Anthony was rushed out the door.
Well, what was he supposed to do? Anthony could remain at the door, like a beggar. Waving to his neighbors as they passed by with strange looks. No. Johanna mentioned wanting Mr. Todd. Perhaps he should get him.
He didn't comprehend what he was doing as he strode down the street, finding himself at Mrs. Lovett's. Anthony ducked in through the door. Greeted by the main lady herself.
"She's not here, if that's what you want," Mrs. Lovett said.
"I was actually looking for Mr. Todd."
She pointed up. "He's been moopy this morning. Good luck with him."
Anthony nodded his thanks and approached the barber shop with care. Hesitating before he rapped on the door.
"A customer?" Mr. Todd asked in a grave tone. The door flew open. He seemed almost disappointed as he wiped a harsh rag over the blade. "What do you want?"
"Johanna's having the baby-"
His brow furrowed. "Now?"
"Yes-"
Mr. Todd disappeared back into the shop. He emerged to pop into Johanna's room, where he gathered a few belongings. The baby blanket, Anthony noted. His walk was brisk. Anthony struggled to even keep up with him. He pointed to the inn.
"Mrs. Thomas said we weren't allowed in."
Mr. Todd grumbled at that.
They paced. They made light conversation. But mostly they worried.
The hours ticked by. Anthony's heart lurch with every cry from inside the room. He fought with himself. No, he couldn't open the door. Mrs. Thomas ordered him to stay out here. Just a little longer and he would be a father. He would have a baby and Johanna in his arms. He yearned for that familiar warmth. Anthony looked over at Mr. Todd. Anthony had no father figure in his wife. Mr. Todd was a father and a friend. Yet it didn't seem right asking questions on topics such as fatherhood.
"It's nearly midnight!" Alverta whined. She didn't make an effort to hide her annoyance.
Mrs. Thomas shot her a glare. "You're almost here, Mrs. Hope."
Johanna barely heard them over the pressure in her ears.
"All right, Mrs. Hope, this is it!"
It was strange and encouraging and painful. Powerful and dull. She squeezed poor Alverta's limp fingers. Little gasps left Johanna, it was all she could manage. Mrs. Thomas was saying something. Perhaps even cheering for her. Johanna doubted it. But it was a nice thought as she announced this was it. One last push.
There was a cry.
"A girl."
Relief flowed throughout every vein. It was gone. The feelings. Mrs. Thomas put her baby on her exposed chest. Johanna looked down.
Her baby.
She loved her with everything she had.
Mrs. Thomas took the baby. Johanna found her arms - weak and limp - reaching out for the child. Alverta stayed by her side. She was too excited to see her baby again. Her baby. What a nice phrase.
"Let's see if she'll suckle," Mrs. Thomas said, holding the baby. Alverta helped her with her chemise. "That's good now. That's good."
Johanna reached a finger out, stroking her baby's cheek. She looked up at her with a wide mouth. Johanna laughed.
It took a few tries and anxious moments to help her baby suckle. But soon she latched on strong. Johanna could jump for joy. It was a little uncomfortable. But mostly it was a pull.
"That's good," Mrs. Thomas said, "Most cherubs born this early have a hard time with it."
Johanna nodded, unable to make out words now.
"Can I see Anthony now?" she asked. Her tone shifted to a high pitch.
"Give it a moment, we still need to check up on some things with the baby."
Within a few minutes, Alverta, rolling her eyes, let him in. Two faces were in the doorframe. Anthony. Johanna's heart lit up. And Mr. Todd. She felt sick. Anthony didn't hesitate as he crawled inside. He ran to the bed.
"We have a baby?" he wondered.
"A girl."
"A girl? I thought you said we were having a boy."
Something jarred within her. "I suppose you can't put everything into the ring test." A beat. "You're not disappointed, are you?"
"Of course not!" He kissed her cheek. "Never."
Johanna smiled, looking up at him. Mrs. Thomas brought the baby over. Laying their daughter on her chest.
"She's tiny!" Anthony exclaimed.
"I know," Johanna whispered, "She was born a few weeks early, so I'm not too surprised, just a little worried."
"But she's beautiful. Like you."
She hummed. "I think she looks more like you."
There was no way of telling. Their daughter was a combination of wrinkled pinkish skin and pursed lips. Yet she was beautiful.
"We have a baby."
It didn't feel real days ago, but it was all too real now. She loved her baby. Yet the day felt like a dream. It couldn't have been. Today was magical. Well, now it was. But she couldn't dream this up. Johanna had nightmares. She didn't experience this bliss at night.
Mrs. Thomas took the baby. Johanna's arms were cold without her daughter wrapped in her embrace. Anthony kissed her head. Her hands. The back of her neck. She smiled at him.
"A baby."
Johanna turned her head. Mr. Todd was speaking with Alverta in the doorway. Their low whispers couldn't be heard from where she was at. His eyebrows were knitted together. Their eyes met. Johanna looked away.
Mrs. Thomas stayed until the sun rose. Alverta made a quick escape when her aunt wasn't looking. She muttered something about that.
"I don't mean to intrude," Mrs. Thomas said, "I just wanna keep a good eye on the mother and baby."
"That's all right. We want that too," Anthony said with a chuckle.
Their daughter was settled in Johanna's arms again. Anthony rested on the bed, with an arm wrapped around his wife. As they stared at their baby. Their daughter. Johanna was too distracted to notice Mr. Todd awkwardly in the doorway. Not wanting to leave, but without anything else to do. Anthony, however, did.
"Would you like to meet her, sir?" he asked and everything on Johanna cried out.
Mr. Todd nodded. He wasn't heartless enough to deny meeting his granddaughter. With no other choice, Johanna adjusted her hold so that Mr. Todd could see. His eyes warmed with a small smile.
"Lucy, then," Johanna said.
"Lucy," Anthony repeated.
Mr. Todd stared. "You looked like that when you were first born."
"I did?" Johanna found herself asking. "Was I early?"
"Not like this, but we didn't expect you for a few more days."
She hummed.
"Lucy Hope," Anthony said, "Don't you think that's the most perfect name, Mr. Todd?"
"It is," he said, quietly.
She hadn't told him their meaning behind the name. To Mr. Todd it was a reminder of his wife, of the life he took and all those others. A bittersweet name. To mock him and to remind.
Johanna felt guilty looking at him, peering over at the baby. She wanted to honor the memory of her mother. She was a good woman. Even if she was married to a bad man. It didn't matter who one was married to. It couldn't be a bad person, yet their spouse could be the purest one of all and vise-versa.
She looked down at her baby. Swaddled in white cloth with little eyelashes. Little Lucy was perfect.
Warnings: Childbirth, minor gore, murder, mentions of past murder/past death
I want to apologize really quickly for killing off Lucy. Lucy is one of my favorite fictional characters and it was really hard to keep her dead. I wanted her to live, I wanted her to reunite with her family. But as I wrote this fic I realized that wasn't how I wanted the story to go. But I can assure you that Lucy is looking down at her family from heaven. She's adoring Anthony and beaming for Johanna. That's super cheesy, but Lucy's there. Just in spirit (because I love her).
I can't believe that I'm posting chapter twenty-three (the biggest chapter, I think). Thank you all so, so much! Especially you, Musicwriter158! I was having a crappy day and reading your comments made me feel so much better. Thank you.
