She'd never liked Judge Turpin. He'd never given her reason to be suspicious; she simply had a vivid distaste for his frequent parties and frivolities. He had no respect for the working class, and he always took what he wanted. She'd only met him face to face about once or twice. He was always followed by a pudgy man. Beadle Bamford was his name. He was the Judge's pocket pet. Always did what he asked.
Mrs. Lovett pounded the dough against the counter. The whole ordeal had begun to outrage her. She'd always had a temper; a darker side that she had to keep in check. She didn't know how Lucy could stand it. Of course, she and Lucy were women of different breeding. Lucy was quiet, calm, level-headed, and always polite. Mrs. Lovett had been raised to speak her mind whenever it pleased her and to do whatever it took to survive. Perhaps it was just as well; an outburst from Lucy might endanger Benjamin's future even more. They were in a hopeless situation.
Fortunately, Lucy wouldn't have to worry about a thing. Mrs. Lovett would see to that. There would be no pesky gossipers, no lack of income, no shortage of food. Of course Mrs. Lovett had to think of Albert, too. After all, he depended on her now. But she'd taken care of more needy bodies at a time. She would manage.
The hours ticked by. Mrs. Lovett finished dinner. Lucy didn't remove herself from her room. Mrs. Lovett left a plate by her door, and when she came up again it was empty. She gave Albert his meal in the parlor. Luckily for her, he was oblivious to all that was going on. He would doze in and out of sleep. When he was brought his dinner, he seemed to perk up.
"Thank you, Eleanor," he said, as Mrs. Lovett handed him a plate. "Smells heavenly." As odd as it was, Albert's mood seemed to have improved even though he was suffering. Mrs. Lovett sat in a chair close to the fire.
"How are you feeling, love?" she asked him. He shrugged. "I just hope your leg doesn't give out," she said. "You'll need it. We'll all need it. Especially since you're the only man around the house now. And things is getting so expensive. How we'll make it by without you, I don't know. We won't I can tell you, not with four mouths to feed," she sighed. "Oh, Lucy, the poor thing. She didn't need this. None of 'em did. Isn't it funny how the worst things happen at the best times?" Mrs. Lovett was surprised that her husband didn't protest to her chatter. She looked over at him, only to realize he was asleep. She sighed and took his empty plate back to the kitchen.
Presently, the door opened. Mrs. Lovett wheeled around, only to lay eyes on the Beadle. Just the person she wanted to see and throw out into the street, all at the same time. She knew if she was going to get any information from him, she'd have to use some of her feminine charm.
"Evening, madam," the Beadle drawled. Mrs. Lovett pasted on a smile and walked towards him.
"Evening, sir. What can I do for you?" she asked, coating her voice with honey. The Beadle took off his hat.
"I'm here on an errand. I heard that this is the residence of a Mrs. Lucy Barker. May I speak with her?" his voice was oily.
"She's not taking any visitors at the moment," Mrs. Lovett said. "It's a shock, finding out your husband is a murderer," she lied through her teeth. She had to make the Beadle think she was on his side. She stepped closer to him, batting her eyes. "Would you like me to deliver a message?"
The Beadle turned slightly pink, and coughed nervously. He smiled at Mrs. Lovett, who felt pleased her methods were working.
"That's very kind of you, but it can wait until tomorrow. I'm so busy with all of this Barker business." He turned to leave, but Mrs. Lovett gently grabbed his shoulder.
"Speaking of such," she said, sweeter than before. "Is there going to be a trial? It's not one I would want to miss." The Beadle laughed.
"No public trial. They've got all the evidence and several people willing to testify. As far as I am concerned, it should be short and sweet. Then we'll send the devil off to Newgate." Mrs. Lovett was frustrated at this. She flashed a smile, so her irritation wouldn't show through.
"Well, at least we won't have him wandering around anymore," she said, brushing off the subject. "Have a good evening, sir." She gently guided him out the door and closed it quickly. She heaved a deep sigh of defeat. Was there no hope for her Benjamin?
They were sending him off to Newgate as early as tomorrow. Barker wouldn't last a day in there. Not with the awful scum that deserved to be there. They were all vicious liars and cheaters. Newgate wasn't all too unlike Hell itself. And if Benjamin ever did get out, he would be different. Oh, so different. In fact, he might cease to be Benjamin Barker altogether. That's what scared Mrs. Lovett the most.