Chapter 2

Toby walked into Mrs. Lovett's room after he was finished cleaning the tables for the day. Tomorrow there would be a fresh batch of pies from the mysterious bake house, a nice line of hungry customers at the door and a dozen more tables for Toby to clean. He didn't mind though. His previous "guardian" made him do much worse things. And besides, if it made Mrs. Lovett happy, he was happy, right? He thought she already worked too much the way it was.

Mrs. Lovett was lying in her chair, reading a book by the soft candlelight in the room. Toby observed the way her eyes narrowed with surprise at the words in front of her. She was engulfed in the story that played out in a scene that only she could see. Toby hated to interrupt what seemed to be a very exciting part of the literature.

"Mum?" Toby asked, after waiting a second.

Mrs. Lovett's eyes shot up from the page. She gasped. Toby hadn't realized it, but from her view, he was hiding right behind the book in her hands and there was no way she could have known that he walked so silently in. His mum let out a long sigh when she realized who it was at the door. Just Toby, not the mythical creature that was sneaking up on the protagonist in her book. "Oh, Toby dear. You gave me a fright, you did," She smiled and set down the book after she had marked her spot.

"Sorry," Toby just about whispered. He lingered in the threshold of her bedroom, seeming to be afraid to come in.

"Well, come on in lad. Nothing to be afraid of," Mrs. Lovett encouraged, and motioned for Toby to come in.

He had been in there before; and its not like he was going to confess to his mum of a crime or anything; but he was nervous for whatever reason at the subject that he had wanted to bring up. Maybe it was the way that the moonlight seemed to cast a shadow on the room. Or maybe in was the way the wind blew the curtains in and out, like breathing. He inched in. Mrs. Lovett sat up all the way in her chair, pushing the stool that she was resting her feet on aside. "Are yah all done cleanin', love?" She asked. Her eyes seemed to dare Toby to come closer, but he lingered. He just nodded.

Mrs. Lovett's eyes narrowed, noticing something off in the boy who seemed to have become a son-figure to her, whether she liked it or not.

She liked to believe, truthfully and honestly, that she really just needed his help in the pie shop and she wasn't at all attached to the boy. It's what she decided long ago she would have to portray. She would have to look and act like this boy was just help, getting attached to him would be all too much, she decided. She knew all too well what becoming attached to a fragile human being can do.

"Wot's the matter?" She asked. "You seem anxious, love, wot's got yah?"

Toby finally walking all the way in then, realizing that he was never very good at masking his emotions and really he had nothing to fear. Toby shrugged. "I wanted to talk," He said as he sat on the stool that Mrs. Lovett had recently taken her feet off of.

His Mum's eyes grew big and a small smile appeared in the corner of her mouth for a second. Toby didn't know why, but the look seemed to make him even more anxious. "Did you meet a gurl?" Mrs. Lovett asked her voice sounding much like an eager teenager.

Toby was drawn back at the strange smile on her face. He frowned and shook his head, slightly feeling like a disappointment.

Mrs. Lovett chuckled and patted his knee. "Ah, I jus' kiddin' yah, love. Just ignore me and continue with yah talk,"

Toby smiled, relieved that the subject had been dismissed. Wait, she was just kidding? Did she think that Toby couldn't get a…he pushed the thoughts away, struggling to get back to why he entered the room.

"Mum?" He asked. He seemed to say mum more then often and he was glad she let him. He never knew his mum. All the way from his childhood all he could remember was the blurry face of an older child that took care of him in the workhouse, and then the all too vivid face of Signor Pirelli.

"I was washin' the tables out in the shop, and I saw the picture of yah husband. I remember yah telling me about him before. But…" Toby trailed off. Why exactly was he bringing this up? "Well, there's not much to be said about my past. And…" He trailed off again. He soon observed how his mums mouth was hanging open. She was still listening, but struggling to see the point. "Well, I see the way yahr face lights up when yah read them books and I can't really read but…" There was an awkward silence. "I guess wot I'm sayin' is that I would like to know… if you don't mind… more about your past,"

Mrs. Lovett heard the words of Toby's and words from her own past were suddenly and abruptly thrown towards her.

You're my Benjamin, you're my Benjamin.

Probably scarlet fever.

Just forget about, just forget about it, just forget about it.

Toby stared at his mum's silent, staring eyes. All the sudden he remembered that he had been so nervous to come in and ask this. All he had wanted was something like a bedtime story, but he seemed to have upset his Mum.

Mrs. Lovett forced the thoughts away. She hadn't thought of them for years, why did Toby seem to conjure them up so quickly for her? She took a breath and sat up more, forcing her eyes off of Toby's. Suddenly, she felt better.

"Like wot deary?"

Toby frowned. "I don't know," Don't be so gloomy, Toby tried to tell himself. "Tell me about your husband, if yah don' mind," He trailed off, not sure

"Not at all," came her oddly nonchalant response.

"Alright… How did you guys meet? Did you ever want children?" Toby didn't know why such an odd question had slipped out. He stopped himself and bit his lower lip, forcing himself to look at Mrs. Lovett and remain silent.

His mum chuckled, seeming completely fine compared to what she had looked like but 15 seconds ago. "Well, how we met is a long story. And about the children thing, Albert certainly didn't want them," She answered the question more naturally then you'd expect; not with what she hid from everyone, including herself. She sat forward again and leaned into Toby as if about to tell a mysterious tale that needed to be whispered to capture the full-effect.

"Albert never wanted kids and he died…" Mrs. Lovett was forced to trail off as she caught Toby's gaze, looking him in the eyes once again.

His eyes, oh his eyes.

Mrs. Lovett found her words coming out slurred, what she was really saying was totally absent minded to herself.

"But he never knew. And after he passed… I loved Ben. You're my Benjamin. You're my Benjamin,"

Toby's eyes grew large with surprise as he noted his mum staring at him so intensely. It seemed she didn't know the words that were pouring out of her mouth. She seemed to be completely in a trance. "Mum?" He asked as Mrs. Lovett's words became slurred and undistinguishable. "Mum, I'm sorry. I think you need some sleep, goodnight."

Toby left the room in haste, and as soon as his eyes were no longer in contact with hers she came to her senses. Toby was out of the door before she could figure out much more.

Tears welded in the bakers eyes. How could she let these memories back in? The years had gone by! The years had been lost. Those memories were forgotten. That boy forgotten. She silently cursed herself for letting it back in so easily. Then remembered… the best way to forget about something is to not think about it right?

So she pushed away the memory of the not-hardly-talk that her and Toby had just had and blew out the last candle in her room. But even after she had changed and gotten cozy under the warm covers of her bed, she couldn't help thinking.

His eyes, oh his eyes. So… so… familiar?

Now review!

So I'll be honest here, I haven't finished writing either of these stories. I know, I'm bad. Usually I'm the one that hates that but I promise to finish as long as people show that they like the stories!