My plan was the only thing that gave me hope from that day. Johanna would learn to live without Anthony soon enough, or at least sooner than she had learnt to live without me- it was strange that such news should have given me any glad thoughts at all.
For days I had ignored the sound of Johanna's tears, as tears of anger seemed easier to do so with rather than the most common tears of sorrow. I had only noticed these tears when suddenly, they had disappeared. Instead, it seemed that life continued as usual in that bedroom.
I sighed to myself, thinking.
Wishing.
If I had been warned those many months ago that some day my daughter should live her life out in a bedroom, the very idea would either have guided my hand to slit the throat of the messenger, or I may have even knelt to the floor, weeping.
Neither of these had ever come to pass.
Rage consumed me, but finally it was due to my situation at the present rather than those that had already been. Without a business or man to kill, I had no chance of relieving my anger in the ways I had before. There was nothing I could do to wreak my vengeance. I could not quicken the birth of my grandchild any more than I could pause time.
Mrs Lovett's earnest behaviour had finally subsided, and I was able to think these thoughts without disturbance. I suppose it meant I was now able to see Johanna without fear, but I still did not. I was able to live with only my plan in mind, but it would have broken me to see my daughter cower away from me once more.
Each day went by painfully, each day bringing us closer to the final day. It was nothing more than that; the final day. There was no name for it as of yet. I doubt there would be a name for it.
I rambled on like this in my own thoughts, not at all fearing the madness that was already overwhelming me.
With each day passing, life had turned more and more into one of Johanna's books. It seemed the careless father was never to return to the shut away maiden, and the step mother seemed to care little for her either.
I reminded myself each night that all was for her safety.
The storybook tale was not the one I had once hoped, but it was the best I could ask for. I started to curse myself simply for thinking such innocent thoughts as a storybook life. Such was a term that I had heard my Lucy speak of, and I daresay Benjamin Barker once had too. It was too innocent for a world such as the one we lived in. Even if our time- all of our time- was spent locked away by the sea, we could not escape it.
The horrors seemed to be able to follow us anywhere, and the sound of the ocean only soothed us for moments.
Unanimously, it was decided that Mrs Lovett should be the one to buy groceries when finally we ran out, and she grudgingly did so.
Toby attempted to follow her on what was later discovered to be advice from Anthony, but she did not listen to his babbling as she gathered her bonnet, cloak and basket. The boy retreated back to Johanna's room without another word, his eyes tearing up.
I said nothing to him, yet nor did I scorn him in my own mind. Yet I could only be glad he could learn at such a young age. It was terrible enough for a man of thirty to learn the lesson so late and be punished in such severe ways as death for it. It was kinder to let the lesson be learnt at a pre-pubescent age where they may grow.
As Mrs Lovett had disappeared with promise of an hour or so without fear of her chattering, I sat alone in the kitchen, staring off into space.
Thinking.
"Oh! Mr Todd!"
I turned my head abruptly to see Anthony standing in the doorway, slightly surprised at seeing me sitting there.
"What is it?" I asked gruffly. He nodded towards the cupboard.
"Johanna was thirsty," he replied, making his way around the kitchen to prepare the glass of water.
"Has she been well?" My voice cracked in the middle of the sentence. Anthony paused for a moment, then carried on.
"It seems almost the child can not wait to be born," he said fondly. "She has been up most of last night with the movement."
I blinked twice, slightly amused. In the way that I was confused, and slightly intrigued.
"Strange," I said, not directing my speech to anyone in particular. "Lucy had said many a time that the movement became not an ounce more violent before the birth."
"Johanna has always been more unique," Anthony said, his voice thoughtful.
"Is she sleeping now?" I asked wistfully, the strain of the past weeks mounting upon my head. Anthony shook his head.
"I think she's far too tired to sleep."
I nodded, slightly confused by the sentence.
"Mr Todd," Anthony began, his voice timid. "Mr Todd, may I ask you something?"
Unable to think of how to answer, I merely shrugged.
"It hasn't at all escaped my notice," he said slowly, coyly, "that you don't exactly like me being here."
"It didn't escape my notice either."
"Then why am I still here?"
My lip twitched slightly, wishing to sneer.
"For Johanna's sake. I thought this was agreed."
"I have no other wish but to be here, with Johanna, but-" He sighed, shaking his head. "I will not deny it is as easy for you to force me from this house as it is for me to fetch this water."
Each of us stared at each other, confusion lain across our faces. I could not speak- I had not right to, I suppose. It would be far too painful to tell the truth, not to mention utterly a waste of my efforts. Yet, to deny I had any actions against him would be a waste of breath. He knew very well that he would pay for what he had done, even if he did not know how horrifically.
"Anthony?" said a bright voice at the door. Both of us turned, seeing Johanna standing in the doorway, smiling. "Anthony, I'm thirsty."
"I said I'd be through soon enough," Anthony told her, walking quickly towards her.
"But soon enough isn't soon enough," she complained.
Anthony looked back at me, his face pained. Abruptly, he looked to my daughter.
"Will you not say hello to your father?"
I straightened slightly, as if the slightest invitation would make much difference. Johanna's eyes passed across my face once, but ignored me yet again.
"No," she answered quickly, then smiled. "Toby's been telling the most lovely-"
"Johanna," Anthony said firmly, as if he were her father instead. "I think you should at least greet him."
"But-"
Johanna looked at me once more, her face slightly forlorn. A few moments passed, feeling almost as if to last a lifetime.
"I can't," she whispered, and with that she turned to the door again, slightly slower than I had once remembered- I did not expect the child did help.
"Johanna!" Anthony called after her, then sighing. "I suppose I should-"
But I did not listen to the rest of his sentence. My anger and sorrow had forgone the point of simply pushing it to the side. I rose from my seat and followed Johanna out of the room, ignoring Anthony as he called after me as well.
Johanna was still slow, the child weighing her down, and so it was not long before I had her in my grasp again. She closed her eyes tightly as I took hold of her upper arms gently, turning her to face me.
"Johanna," I began, my voice imploring. "Johanna, look at me for a moment."
She shook her head, squirming.
"Please, just for a moment, my dear." I uttered those last two words with gritted teeth, forcing any compliment through to gain eye contact. Still, she ignored me.
I shook her slightly, my temper rising. Anthony's hand lay itself on my shoulder, pulling me away as best as he could.
"Mr Todd, I don't think that-"
"Johanna," I persisted, desperate by this point. "Look-at-me!"
"Mr-"
"Leave me be!" Johanna finally cried, her voice shrill. At this, Toby appeared, his face pale.
"What-"
"Toby, please, go back inside," Anthony said earnestly, worried.
"But-"
"Go back inside!"
"Let go of me!" my daughter shouted, repeating the words over. "Let go of me! Let go of me!"
"Not until you finally open your eyes and look at me!" I shouted, enraged by this point.
"I won't, papa! You can not make me! I won't, I won't, I won't!"
I growled lowly, shaking her shoulders with a fury I had never used upon her.
"My own daughter- betrayed in spirit by my own daughter! Why can you not even look upon me?"
"You can not make me," she whispered, crying now. My grip tightened without me even realising it, and she winced. I wished dearly that I could stop myself, but I could not. Something in my mind had simply snapped.
"I worked so long to find you," I muttered, to enraged to speak properly. "And this is how I am repaid?"
"Stop this!" Anthony said, his voice raised, and his tone firm. He pulled desperately at me, but I shrugged him off. As he had said only minutes ago, it was simply for me to force him away.
"Look at me," I said sternly, my voice wavering. "Look at me, or else."
At those two small words, Johanna's eyes finally flew open. Her bottom lip quivered, and with all the air that she could muster, she screamed, fighting fiercely against me.
I jumped back, flinching slightly as I let go of her. Anthony pushed past me, holding my daughter up before she could collapse to the floor with unsteady legs. I could only watch, petrified.
"S-s-she can't-"
"It can't very well be helped!" Anthony said, his voice worried. "We need Mrs Lovett."
"We can't," I whispered, staring still at my daughter, who had started to turn slightly grey.
"I don't care if we can't, we need her now!"
Toby left the room he had been forced into, and seemed almost as worried as Anthony. He gaped at the scene, frantically bounding up and down from room to room, searching for something I could not comprehend.
"Mr Todd!" Anthony cried out again, enraged by this point. "Mr Todd, please! Just go and get Mrs Lovett! This child isn't going to wait for any of us!"