Author's notes: Alright, Final chapter except for the epilogue - don't miss it, I'm posting it at the same time! Thank you to reviewers, readers, favouriters etc. This chapter is for all of you, and I hope you enjoy it x
Disclaimer: I don't own Sweeney Todd, its plot or its characters.
Chapter 10 – Secret's Revealed
"But if he escapes, he'll tell the law," Nelly explained, as all three of us ran down the steps from his shop.
"Then he won't escape," was his answer.
"I don't know, Mr Todd," I replied truthfully.
We reached the bottom step, to be greeted by the Beadle.
Nelly let out a small scream.
"Sorry sir, you gave me a fright."
"Not my intention good madam, I assure you," he smiled, walking towards us. "Although I am here on official business. There have been some complaints about the stink coming from your chimney. They say at night, it's something most foul."
We exchanged nervous glances. If he found out what was going on, we would all be in very deep trouble. It hit me hard, realising that I had been part of a mass murder plot, and hadn't told a soul. Why? Was it because of love?
"Now if you wouldn't mind, I would like to have a look at your bakehouse," he told us.
"Of course sir," said Sweeney, using his friendly voice. "But first, why don't you come upstairs, let me pamper you?"
The Beadle considered it.
"Much as I do appreciate your skills, my duties do come first-"
"I completely understand," interrupted Sweeney. Then, to my surprise, he leant in, sniffing the Beadle. "If you'll indulge me sir, what is that delightful aroma?"
The Beadle chuckled.
"My secret," he muttered.
"Dare I offer you something a tad more exotic?" asked Mr Todd.
Bamford considered it, looking like he was going to decline Sweeney's offer.
"The ladies will greatly appreciate it sir."
At this the Beadle's eyes lit up, and Sweeney knew he'd hit a soft spot.
"Only take a moment," he assured him. "Help me please, Sarah."
I followed them up the stairs, nerves gnawing away at my insides.
Sweeney did his usual job, lulling the Beadle into a false sense of security, before finishing him off with a quick, neat slit.
As he dropped the Beadle's hat down the chute, I heard something that made my blood run cold.
"Help! Let me out! Please!"
To my horror, the cries belonged to Toby.
"If he didn't know already, he definitely knows now," I warned him.
He nodded, and with that, we ran to the bakehouse door, where Nelly was waiting for us.
"He's scarpered," she whispered, her face paler than usual.
"Where could he be?" asked Sweeney, looking around the room.
"The sewers," I muttered.
It was the only place he could possibly be, and Nelly had assured us that she had checked all over. We lifted the grate, and (luckily we were all quite skinny) managed to slip through the hole into the sewers. I was overwhelmed by the stink, and lifted my crimson skirts off the slimy floor. We walked down the narrow walkway on either side of the small channel of water that ran through.
"Toby!" we called.
"Where are you hiding?" asked Nelly, using a sing-song voice. "Come on darling, nothing's gonna harm you!"
"Come on Toby!" I called.
After ten minutes of searching, we gave up. Sweeney and I went upstairs to wait for the Judge, while Nelly waited in the bakehouse.
We climbed up the steps, and I could tell that he was just as nervous as I was. This was his last chance.
As we neared the door, we heard someone's voice, a woman's.
"Beadle-deedle-dumpling, where are you?" she called, and I had the suspicions that she was slightly insane. Sweeney turned to me, pressing his finger to his lips. I nodded. We slowly crept to the door, and pried it open. And there stood the person I least wanted to see. Lucy Barker, the mad old beggar woman of Fleet Street. I was shocked at how terrible she looked compared to the beauty I had seen in the pictures. Her hair was now dirty and straggly, and she wore a tatty brown dress (who knew what its original colour was). Her eyes were wide with fear, and she was covered in sores, swellings and grime.
"Who are you? What are you doing here?" he asked, breaking me out of my thoughts.
"Evil this is sir! The stink of evil from below, from her!" she cried, her voice a high pitched shriek. "She's the devil's wife, she is. Be wary of her sir, she with no pity in her heart."
"Mr Todd?" It was the Judge.
Sweeney looked from me, to Lucy, shock and fear in his eyes. Then he noticed something rather convenient: she was standing on the trap door. With a quick swipe, he cut her throat, and I watched in horror as a sheet of bright red spilled from her neck. He stamped on the peddle, and by the time the Judge entered, her body was gone, no evidence of what had just happened.
I felt tears form in my eyes, horrified to think of what he had just done. He had killed his wife, yet he didn't know it. I intended for it to stay that way however, and quickly blinked the tears away. I wondered where Johanna and Anthony were…
"Where is she?" asked the Judge.
"Below Your Honour, with my neighbour," Sweeney answered solemnly. "Thank heavens she's alright. Thank heavens too, that she has seen the error of her ways."
"She has?" asked the Judge, clearly not believing what he had just heard.
"Yes. She speaks only of you, longing for forgiveness."
"Then she shall have it…She'll be here soon, you say?"
"Yes sir," he replied. "How about a shave?"
That had to be the best job of acting I had ever seen, to play along with Turpin, the man he hated with all his heart.
"Sit sir, sit," he said, smiling through clenched teeth.
The Judge considered for a moment, before shrugging and sitting down. He sighed and took off his scarf.
Silently, Sweeney sharpened his razor, a dazed look on his face. I didn't bother getting any shaving cream, knowing that the Judge wouldn't be alive long enough to need it.
"How seldom it is one finds a fellow spirit," muttered the Judge.
"With fellow tastes…in women at least," was Sweeney's reply.
"What?" asked the Judge, confusion spreading across his face.
"The years no doubt have changed me sir," said Sweeney, lifting his razor. "But then I suppose the face of a barber, the face of a prisoner at the docks, is not particularly memorable."
The Judge studied him for a moment, before realisation dawned on him.
"Benjamin Barker," he whispered.
"Benjamin Barker!" yelled Sweeney, and he finally let out the hatred and anger he had been storing for fifteen years.
He plunged the blade repeatedly into Turpin's neck, blood spurting repeatedly. I stood as far back as possible, but it didn't stop the liquid from landing on my dress (though luckily it didn't show). When Sweeney was finally finished, he too was covered in blood. It was all over his shirt, face and hair, dying the white streak a faint shade of pink. It was even in his mouth.
"Could you make any more mess?" I gasped.
"Yes," he whispered, turning to the Judge, whose face was screwed up in pain. With one smooth movement, he slit his throat and sent him down the chute.
"It's over," I told him.
He nodded, setting his blood-covered razor on the chair. Suddenly, a movement form behind us made us both turn around.
The chest's - which had at one stage contained Pirelli's body – lid was opened slightly, and a blue eye was peering out at us.
Sweeney moved to the chest and opened the lid, pulling out a young boy who couldn't have been more than sixteen.
"Come for a shave lad? Everyone needs a good shave," Sweeney said menacingly, tossing the boy into the chair.
"No, I-"
Sweeney held up the razor, and I watched in shock as the blade glinted in the moonlight.
A scream cut through the silence.
"Nelly," I realised.
"Forget my face," Sweeney warned the boy, and then left the shop quickly.
I was about to follow him, and then decided to take a look at the boy. Underneath a cap, there was blonde hair, and stunning blue eyes. In fact, he looked remarkably like a girl, with pale skin and full lips. Very much like Lucy, in fact…
"Oh my goodness, you're Johanna!" I realised.
"How did you know?" she asked.
"You look like your mother," I told her sadly, and then ran out of the door. I had no time to think about Johanna right then.
I reached the bakehouse just seconds after Sweeney.
"Why did you scream?" he asked Nelly.
"Oh, he was clutching onto my dress, but he's finished now," she explained, gesturing towards Turpin. I noticed she was dragging Lucy towards the oven, she must have realised too.
"I'll deal with it," he muttered. "Open the door. Open the door I said!" he cried, pushing her towards the oven when she ignored him the first time. She did as she was told, tears forming in her eyes. I realised what a dangerous situation I was in. It was entirely possible that Sweeney would realise, and he would not be happy. So as much as it pained me, I decided to leave. I loved Sweeney, I loved Nelly and I didn't wish anything bad upon either of them, but I was innocent in this mess. And I had to leave while I still could.
I was making my way upstairs, when I heard Sweeney's voice.
"'Don't I know you,' she said. You knew she lived."
In my safe place at the top of the stairs, I could see that a shaft of light had fallen on Lucy's face.
"I was only thinking of you," she said, sounding almost as sad as Mr Todd.
"You lied to me," he muttered, hurt and sadness evident in his voice.
"I didn't lie Mr T," she begun. "I said she took the poison, and she did, but I never said that she died. The poor thing lived, but it left her weak in the head. She should have been in hospital, but ended up in Bedlam."
"Why?" he asked.
"Because I love you! I'd be twice the wife she was, that thing could never have cared for you like me!"
"What have I done?"
She was crying now, tears rolling down her cheeks. Then Sweeney turned to face her.
"Come here," he told her, yet in a (relatively) friendly voice.
She stared at him in disbelief.
"Do you mean it?" He nodded. "I swear, everything we did-"
"We?" he asked suddenly.
She nodded.
"Sarah and I," I gasped in horror, she had just told him that I'd known! She carried on however: "Anyway, we just thought it was for the best. Can we still be married?"
"Of course!" he cried, scooping her into his arms and waltzing her around the room. "What's dead is dead! And life is for the alive my dear, so let's keep living it!"
"Really living it!" she laughed.
Time then froze for a moment, for me at least. Because, as they neared the oven, he tossed her in. I watched in shock as she struggled and screamed, losing the battle and finding herself in the flames. I watched, feeling physically sick, as she kicked, her flesh blackening. Finally Sweeney shut the door, locking it. He took one last look through the tiny hatch, before shutting it firmly. Eventually her screams died away.
He turned in my direction, his eyes widening when he realised that I was standing on the stairs. I tried to move, but my feet were frozen to the spot.
"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked, furiously.
I walked towards him.
"Because I loved you, and I couldn't bear to see your heart broken."
I heard a clattering behind me, but ignored it. I braced myself, knowing that I would die right then, but to my surprise; he dropped his razor, and fell beside Lucy.
"She was so beautiful," he whispered.
I watched sadly, looking up in surprise when I saw Toby creep up behind him, Sweeney's dropped razor in hand. I couldn't do anything to stop him. In fact, I think Sweeney knew that Toby was behind him.
He lifted his head, accepting what came next. I tried to shut my eyes, but couldn't as Toby swung the razor across the Demon Barber of Fleet Street's neck. His eyes widened in surprise, and then he slumped, slowly, over Lucy, his blood mingling with hers on the floor.
I looked sadly at Toby.
"Come on," I said, wrapping my arm around him. "Let's go."
Author's notes: THE END (almost). Poor, poor Sweeney, poor Mrs L (I suppose). I really hope you enjoyed it x