In this chappie, we discover something about Genevieve that no one expected. This is the chapter where the story starts to have various POV's. Enjoy!
Genevieve's POV…
I eased Gulliver down the road, toward the small candy shop on the corner of Fleet Street. Once at the candy shop, I dismounted, and gently patted his rumpus, dismissing him to go into the back alley to hide from the constable who roamed smoothly down the street nearby. After all, stray horses were captured and sent off to the butcher. He snorted and obediently trotted into the back alley.
As asked, I fetched a bag of toffees. As I exited the shop, I found myself in an uncomfortable position. Across the street, a short, pudgy man in a top hat and waistcoat stood, he bared a cane in his left grasp. He stood in a suspicious way, his cane bearing his weight. I whistled between my front teeth for Gulliver. The man started across the street toward me. I was relieved that Gulliver got to me fast enough, for the man was near me when he came trotting to my side. The man got a frightened look when he saw the size of Gulliver. I jumped, without ease, onto his back, and we cantered back down the street to the pie shop.
Once in the carriage house, Gulliver enjoyed a huge cup of grain and a fresh leaf of dried barley. For a moment, I stayed as I was, stroking Gulliver's muzzle. It wasn't until I saw Mr. Todd exiting Mrs. Lovett's front door that I knew it was safe to enter it. I did casually. Mrs. Lovett was busy rolling pie dough on the counter, humming a tune as she worked. I approached the counter, and set the toffees on it.
"Took ya long enough, I thought someone nabbed you," Mrs. Lovett said.
I began to tap my fingers one-by one on the counter top. "Sorry, ma'am."
I sat down at one of the tables, and she gave me a glass of ale. I sipped it slowly. "Mrs. Lovett?" I asked.
"Yes, Love?"
"I saw a man today, on the side of the street. 'E was lookin' at me as of I didn't belong there."
Mrs. Lovett raised her brows. "What did 'e look like?"
I curled my lips, and remembered the man in the back of my man. "Short, stout, and he 'ad a huge collar on 'is waistcoat."
Mrs. Lovett set down her rolling pin. "Was 'e wearin' a top 'at?" she asked.
I nodded. "A dirty one, at that."
"Yeah, I know 'em. 'E works for Judge Turpin, that bastard man 'e is." I could tell from the way she sneered this that there was some hidden tensions between her and Judge Turpin. She angrily went back to rolling for a mere moment, then, she began to beat the dough with her rolling pin, swearing as she did. "Damn buggar…..bastard man!"
The shop fell silent. It wasn't until it became dark that I broke the awkward silence. Mrs. Lovett finished a whole parcel of meat pies for the day following.
"What kind of moon is tonight, Ma'am?" I asked.
"Ugh….full, I believe, why?"
I raised my brows. I hated the full moons, for it brought out the beast within me. Let's just say that I was born with a special power that I can't control fully. I sprang into action, shutting the curtains and putting out the fires.
"Oi, Genevieve, what are you doin'? We don't close for another twenty minutes," Mrs. Lovett shrieked.
"Sorry for the inconvenience, Ma'am, but I'm afraid that I'm not feelin' well this evenin'."
She advanced before me, and placed her hands on my shoulders. "Alright, Love, go and get yourself some supper and rest. I'm gonna need your 'elp tomorrow."
And with that, I said goodnight to her, and as I went to exit into the house, I pivoted on my heel. "Where are you going?" I asked her.
"Oh, I'm goin' to take Mr. Todd his supper," she said, gesturing toward a tray with meat pies and a bottle of gin on it.
I nodded, and slowly entered the house.
Mrs. Lovett's POV…
Later that night, after my visit to Mr. Todd, I quietly snuck back into my shop. I was careful and quiet, for I did not want to wake Genevieve from her restful sleep. I was a little cautious, for when I entered the shop, it was pitch black. Funny, I thought that I told Genevieve to keep the fire on until I got home. I set Mr. Todd's tray on the counter, and snuck towards the archway into my house.
Why, Genevieve was not asleep on the floor before the fireplace as she normally is. I crept toward the back room, only to discover that there was no Genevieve in sight. I went into my sitting room, and lit a candelabrum.
"Genevieve," I whispered. "Where are you?"
Silence split the night.
"Gen….-," I was interrupted the sound of the cellar door closing.
I quickly made my way outside, and around the side of my house to the cellar. I walked slowly down the cold, dank steps. The familiar smell of must and the burning oven spiraled in the atmosphere around me. There was a table in the corner, opposite the oven. I had a feeling that something was under that table. I stalked, mightily slow, towards it.
A strident growl was heard.
As I neared the table, it got louder. Something in my gullet told me to run, but my instincts told me to hold my ground. Suddenly, and not very conspicuously, I could make out the figure of pearly white fangs. Whatever it was, it bared its fangs, and hissed. An immense black figure jumped from behind the table, knocking me falling. The creature leaped over my head, and took off up the stairs.
There was only one thing on my mind.
Genevieve.