A/N : I don't know if anyone else has noticed, but there isn't a character for Albert Lovett in the Sweeney Todd catagory. I thought it was because he wasn't in the movie, but then I realised that Vivienne, Morgana's mother in Merlin, has a character even though she wasn't in the series, so I think that Albert should have a character because there are a couple of stories about him. Can someone start a campaign please? (because I don't know how!) Anyway, rant over, on with the story...
Mrs. Lovett was lying still once more in her bed, staring at her bedroom ceiling and pondering on the behavior of her tenant. If she hadn't known better, and she prided herself on her ability to see people for what they were, she would have thought that the flash in his eyes showed a hint of, dare she say it, love! Convinced that she was being ridiculous, she decided that, purely because she was Mrs. Nellie Lovett and consequently the most stubborn woman on Fleet Street at least, she would get up to help her son with the bakery.
With some effort, Nellie managed to slowly swing her legs out of bed. Shuffling to the edge of the mattress, she took a deep breath and stood. She rejoiced for a mere few milliseconds before collapsing to the floor, an intense scream of pain leaving her parted lips. The pain was almost blinding, so much so that Nellie just about managed to make out running footsteps and the door crashing against the wall as it was hurriedly opened before her familiar bedroom faded to blackness once more.
Nellie awoke to a cool pressure on her forehead, a stark contrast to the warm pressure in her hand. She summoned the effort and courage to raise her eyelids and take in the figure who had helped her so. To her surprise, it wasn't a physician, or a friend, not that she had many. It wasn't even her darling lad Toby. The figure was much more surprising than that, so much so that a gasp escaped Nellie's lips, alerting the figure to her awareness of the situation. The silhouette moved to the window and the early morning glow bathed the figure in light, revealing his every worry-creased feature. Sweeney Todd.
"You know, when I tell you that you have to stay put in bed, I kind of assumed that you would listen! I obviously forgot how notorious you were." He frowned after the last words, shaking his head and starting to speak once more.
"Sorry, Mrs. Lovett, you must be so confused right now, I should let you rest."
"Sweeney! Why did you say that?" asked a visibly confused Nellie. "You never met me before until two and a half months back."
"You just remind me of someone I used to know, that's all."
"Ella. Girl from the workhouse, it's a long story and I've got to open the shop."
"It's only six, the shop doesn't open until nine. You don't have to go up for three hours, now go on. I'm listening." chipped in Nellie, obviously eager to learn more of this girl. Sweeney checked his wristwatch, sighed and sat down in the chair by the baker's bedside once more.
"When I first arrived in London, Benjamin Barker, I was fourteen years old. I didn't really have a care in the world, but I had no friends either. One day, I was taking a stroll down the poorer side of London and I bumped into a young girl, sent her flying. She was pretty, she was, but thin, pale, cold as ice. Still, she had a smile on her face and was very polite when I tried to help her pick up the bread she'd been selling. We became friends almost immediately." he suddenly stopped, appearing to be attempting to prevent the tears gathering in his eyes from spilling over to his pale cheeks. Still, Nellie felt an urge to know.
"What happened to her?" asked the baker gently.
"Her mother died. She tried to keep afloat, attempting to bake the bread herself and selling it on the streets, day in, day out, but she couldn't cope. She tried, but she couldn't. So…" he took a great gulp of air before continuing. "So the Beadle came for her. Took her to the workhouse. I tried to stop him, to get her out of his grasp, but I couldn't. I wasn't strong enough, and he took her anyway. I never saw Ella again. I still don't know what happened to her."
"Don't you?" asked the woman, clearly confused, but with a look in her eyes that Sweeney had never seen in her before, yet still recognised from somewhere.
"I suppose she must have stayed in the workhouse. I'd try to find her, but I can't leave the shop, in case the Judge decides to come snooping." sighed Sweeney, looking towards the window, a slight murderous glint in his eye, though barely noticeable through the blur of unshed tears. Noticing this, Nellie made a decision that she knew she may live to regret.
"I could ask Toby to go find out for you, if you'd like." suggested the baker, staring into Sweeney's eyes, where the tears were decreasing rapidly at the shock and happiness he felt at her suggestion. Nellie could tell that this was the first happiness he had found since he had returned to Fleet Street.
"Thank you, Mrs. Lovett, but there is no need for that. Ella Whitefield is long since gone." With these final words, Sweeney could take it no longer and bolted from the room before his landlady could see the tears escaping from his eyes. After her tenant's hasty departure, Mrs. Lovett turned carefully to her right side, being wary of her still bandaged waist, her pillow growing wet with her own shed tears, sighing six words before submitting to the clutches of sleep;
"If you only knew, Mr. Todd."
A/N: Thanks for reading, please review.