I don't know why,
but I feel I should interject that I wrote this chapter while under
the influence of 80's music—especially Hungry Like the Wolf.
Anyway.
"Anthony!" Amelia jerked upright. "We—"
Johanna simply blushed as Anthony gave them both curious looks. It was obvious he hadn't heard much, and Amelia calmed down.
"Well, you see," Johanna began politely. "The fact of the matter is, well, we, mm…it's not that…no, I guess it is that…well…"
"We're sisters," Amelia interrupted impatiently. "Well, not exactly. We've got the same mother, but apparently she got the good father."
"What? How did you find that out?" Anthony set his book on the table and cocked his head slightly.
"How else does anyone find anything out here? We heard Brianne talking about it."
Anthony nodded in admittance. "You're right there, that's probably how I learned half of what I know about anything." He smiled before blinking a few times. "What were you saying, then, about who your father is?"
"Oh. A Judge Turpin."
"Him?" Anthony visibly backed into the couch. "The one who sets his beadle on you just for looking at his ward—I mean house?"
"When did that happen?" Amelia gasped.
"Not too long ago," he mumbled, trying to feign interest in fixing his hair. He glanced up at Johanna, who looked at him questioningly.
"What happened?" she asked, sitting forward.
"Nothing! Nothing," Anthony answered hastily, his cheeks turning bright red as he finger-combed his hair. "Amelia, finish what you were telling me."
"Okay," she agreed after giving him another once-over. "So what we were able to piece together is that my father made her father leave somehow, and then got ahold of our mother." She paused. "Then I was born, but he didn't want anyone knowing about it, and I came here. And when her mother left, my father kept her," she motioned to Johanna, "and now he wants to marry her."
"Your father wants to marry her?" Anthony exclaimed. "That's disgusting!"
"That was my reaction precisely!"
"And mine," Johanna added. "Even though I really don't have much choice."
"I'll say you do!" Anthony puffed out his chest a little. "We need a plan!"
Amelia rolled her eyes. "Yes, we know." Johanna giggled.
"We need someplace for her to go," Amelia explained. "She can't stay with him, otherwise before we all know it she'll end up shackled to him for life and next time we see her she'll be trying to keep track of all twelve of their children!"
"Amelia, calm down," Johanna's eyes widened. "Twelve? I'm not insane!"
"Please! The only way you wouldn't be forced to have that many is if he was too old to—"
"I know!" Anthony bolted up dramatically. When neither one seemed to hear him, as they were still arguing about just how many children Judge Turpin would spawn, he subtly sat back down and made a more deliberate thump sound with his shoes upon standing.
"I know!" he interjected a bit louder. This time, they both turned. Anthony swallowed. "I know someone who might be able to help with keeping her safe."
"Really? Who?" Amelia tugged his shirtsleeve. "Do you really think they would?"
"Do you remember the Mr. Todd I told you about?" When she nodded, he continued. "He and Mrs. Lovett are working together in the pie shop now, and they've got plenty of space. I'm sure neither of them would mind, seeing how she's so beauti—I mean, in such a desperate situation." He glanced toward Johanna, who favored him with a smile.
"I'll go ask right now!" he declared, exaggerating the deepness of his voice a tad. Upon reaching the door, he pulled it open and tossed his hair back. "Fear not, Johanna, I'll help stop this madness!" he announced, just before a huge gust of wind nearly knocked him flat. He shook his head wildly before shutting the door and taking off in the direction of Mrs. Lovett's shop.
"He's really quite nice," Johanna ventured.
"You two better not have twelve kids either," Amelia grinned suggestively.
"What? Who, us? Why, the very notion—whatever gave you that idea?"
Amelia casually picked up Anthony's book and looked it over. "You're blushing again."
Anthony was admittedly a little uncomfortable around Mr. Todd. His lady-friend was pleasant enough, even though he'd vowed never to accept food from her again. Somehow he got the idea that he didn't really enjoy having him around. Anthony had had to try harder than usual to get him to talk while they were on the ship. He shrugged, passing a woman who was going on about the smoke in the chimney of the pie shop. Crazy people.
He burst through the door without really meaning to—the wind was terrible that day. Mrs. Lovett startled and drove her rolling pin into the counter.
"Is Mr. Todd here?" he inquired politely, dodging Toby, who was running all about the house out of boredom.
"Upstairs," she dug out the rolling pin and observed him curiously. "Why—?"
"Thank you!" he called over his shoulder as he climbed two at a time. He pushed the door open to reveal a very irritated-looking (as usual) Mr. Todd.
"What is it?" he drawled, narrowing his eyes. "Don't I get enough of you already?"
"Well, you see," Anthony began, ignoring the comment, "I need your help. Would you be able to keep a friend safe for me?" When all he received in response was an even more agitated look, he hurried to explain. "That awful Judge Turpin wants to force her to marry him—"
"What of Turpin?" he leaned forward, suddenly interested.
"He wants to marry Johanna," Anthony blurted. "That's her name, Johanna."
At this, Mr. Todd froze. "Johanna?"
"Yes!" Anthony was becoming exasperated, as he often did when talking to him. "Which is even worse because he had his way with her mother, too—" He was shocked into silence when he saw the look he was getting.
"I was only wondering," he added very quietly. "I just thought you might."
Mr. Todd seemed entirely too focused on the floor as he spun the chair around on its legs. He picked up one of his razors and twirled it a few times while looking in his cracked mirror, much to Anthony's dismay.
"This isn't the time for shaving!"
Mr. Todd glared at him, and he was again quieted. He tried not to look too imposing, but had no idea what to say. He glanced at his shoes and all about the room. The silence was even more frustrating, because he'd still not received a straight answer. Anthony considered asking again, but didn't feel comfortable with the way the barber was handling those razors. He began to back away without appearing obvious.
Mr. Todd didn't look up from his table once. "Bring her here."
Judge Turpin isn't the only one who's Hungry Like the Wolf! Yeah.