The days dragged on into weeks and eventually, months. Barker was transported to Newgate, and there was no public trial, as promised. Mrs. Lovett was wearing herself to the bone. Albert's leg had given out; his gout was paining him enormously. Lucy stayed in her room. If and when she came out, her face was pink and swollen from her tears. Mrs. Lovett pitied her; how hard it must be to lose your husband. Especially such a husband as Benjamin Barker. Times were getting hard, and Mrs. Lovett worried.
It was on a dreary and cloudy day that Beadle Bamford came calling once again. Mrs. Lovett struggled not to glare as she looked up from her dough.
"Afternoon, sir," she said. He nodded, and removed his hat.
"I must speak with Lucy Barker, ma'am. It is of the utmost importance," he said.
"It's not to leave any more bloody flowers, is it?" she muttered darkly. Bamford, keen of hearing, still picked up what she said. He gave her a dangerous smile.
"I'll go talk to her," Mrs. Lovett said, quickly ducking out of the kitchen. She walked up the stairs, deliberately slowly. Lucy didn't need to be bothered by him. Mrs. Lovett was almost reluctant to even ask if Lucy was up for visitors. It would be so easy to lie to him… Still, moments later, she found herself standing inside Lucy's room; the yellow haired angel waiting for news.
"The Beadle is here, dearie. He says he needs to talk to you. Claims it's urgent. I can tell him to-" Mrs. Lovett began. Lucy gasped and stood quickly.
"No, I need to speak to him. What if he has news about my Benjamin?" Mrs. Lovett hadn't really thought of that. Lucy straightened out her skirts and gently brushed her hair out of her face. "Will you wait here with Johanna?" Lucy asked before running down the stairs. Mrs. Lovett sighed and sat in the chair near the crib.
The temptation of knowing what the Beadle was asking Lucy was too strong. Johanna was sleeping peacefully, and it was doubtful Mrs. Lovett would be needed. She rose and stood at the top of the stairs, out of sight. She could just barely pick out their voices.
"-Incredibly sorry. He never meant to displease you, ma'am. He was only thinking of what was best for you. But, he has realized his sin. His grievous sin against you, and against God. He wants to make amends." Mrs. Lovett scoffed as she heard the Beadle speak these words. It sounded as though it was a rehearsed speech; memorized carefully.
"If the good Judge is as repentant as you claim, then I cannot deny him if he wishes to make amends," Lucy replied. Mrs. Lovett had a sinking feeling in her stomach. She could hear the Beadle's smile in his voice.
"Wonderful! Oh, he will be so pleased. You must come to his house for dinner tonight. I'll be here with a coach at eight." She heard the shop door creak shut, and quickly returned to her chair beside Johanna. Minutes later, Lucy came back up the stairs. The pink around her eyes was beginning to fade, and some color had returned to her cheeks.
"What did he want?" Mrs. Lovett asked, trying to appear innocent. Lucy sighed.
"He says the Judge wants to make amends. He realizes he has sinned. He's invited me over for dinner."
"And?" Mrs. Lovett asked.
"Well, who am I to withhold forgiveness?" Lucy asked. She was too sweet. Mrs. Lovettwould understand if Lucy wanted nothing further to do with Judge Turpin. She had every reason to. Then again, Lucy was by far a kinder soul than she. Perhaps that was why she had ended up with Benjamin.
"I'm leaving at eight," Lucy said. "I should probably clean up a little." Mrs. Lovett stood and walked toward the door.
"You have a way there, dearie?" she asked. Lucy nodded. "You take care of yourself," she cautioned and walked out the door, back down the stairs, and into the kitchen.
She had nothing better to do than bake more pie. The quality of her meat was suffering. She was able to afford less and less, barely scraping by on what she had. She passed the minutes, mindlessly kneading, mixing, pouring, arranging, and baking pies. It seemed like hours before Lucy walked down the stairs again, Johanna in her arms.
Lucy had pulled her hair back into its usual elegant knot. She was wearing a white dress and donned a lace shawl. She looked happier than she had for the past few weeks. But that was only the impression one got at a glance. Mrs. Lovett could sense Lucy's edginess. She gave her a warm smile and walked toward her.
"You look lovely, dear," she said. Lucy smiled at her. They both turned quickly as the Beadle walked in the store door again. He smiled upon seeing them.
"Ah, good evening, ladies," he offered his arm to Lucy. She cast a glance over at Mrs. Lovett. Mrs. Lovett brushed the flour off her corset, and gently took Johanna from her arms.
"Stay on your guard," Mrs. Lovett whispered. "We'll all be here waiting for you when you get home." She balanced Johanna on her hip. Lucy took the Beadle's arm, and they walked out into the dark, unforgiving night. Mrs. Lovett sighed.
"I guess it's just you and me then, love," she crooned to Johanna. She walked into her parlor. Albert was asleep in his usual chair, his legs sticking out stiffly. Mrs. Lovett sat with Johanna the couch by Albert. The warm fire flickered across Johanna's pale, angelic face. Her bright eyes shimmered. Mrs. Lovett couldn't help but smile. She could absolutely see Benjamin in the little girl. Her hair, eyes, and skin color belonged to her mother. But the tender glances, cheerful smiles, and curiosity were her father's.