One month. Antony came back in less than an hour and informed Sweeney it would be thirty-two days until the next boat set sail. Sweeney nodded. Of course. He had thirty-two days until he lost his daughter. Oddly his thoughts drifted to Mrs. Lovett. Sure she was fine now but when the house was empty she was sure to think of the little boy she'd thought of as a son.
And than as that though flitted through his head, one thought brought on another one. There where three bodies moldering away in the bake house and he was the only one who could deal with it. Mrs. Lovett couldn't be asked to go down there with Toby's body and there was no way Johanna or Antoney was being sent down there.
He stood up carefully, grabbing a handkerchief as he headed out of the room. Down stairs everyone was in the living room, watching as he squirted the handkerchief with some flower scented stuff Mrs. Lovett had to freshen the house and tied it around his face.
"Headed down to the bake house." He explained at the three curious eyes.
"I-" Antony stood up, already turning green. "I'll help."
"No. You wont." He spun on his heals walking over to the door, slamming it shut and locking it behind him.
Night had surly fallen by the time Sweeny made his way back up the steps. He was displeased but unfortunately could take no more exertion. His side was still aching and he had barley done anything. Hiding the bodies was a lengthy process one he didn't have the strength for. So far all he'd managed to do was decapitate the three bodies than sitting on the steps peel the flesh off them and toss it in the fire.
The skulls themselves where waiting to be ground into dust another time.
"I'm sorry." Joanna was waiting for him at the top of the stairs.
"Forwhat?" He glared. He didn't like this. Even as he spoke to his daughter he felt his body weave.
"It's my fault you had to do all that work."
"Nadoneyet." He ignored the fact his words where slurring as his mind became even more fuzzy.
Joanna looked alarmed. He must have swayed because she put her hands out, holding him as if to steady him. "Your still ill!"
Sweeny didn't respond. He didn't want to deal with this. 'Bed.' That was the one thought that could process in his head as he broke away from her grasp, stumbling like a drunkard out if the shop.
He looked up at the steps, cursing under his breath. The climb looked as if it would take forever.
"Come on." Joanna reached around his waist to help him up the stairs, instead making him hiss in pain as she touched his wound and- reacting on instinct -he shoved her away with a growl.
There was no strength behind it but she took the hint, disappearing into the pie shop. Groaning he made jis way up the steps, clinging to the rail like a sailor to a lifeline.
There it was. He let out an audible sigh as he caught sight of it and, like he seemed to do so many times the past few days he promptly lay down and gave into unconsciousness.
"See! I told you he was ill!" He heard a voice, soft and melodic. he knew that voice!
Who was it?
"Why am I not surprised?" A more cocknickey one mumbled.
Nellie! He realized, that was Nellie's voice so that meant-
"What do we do?"
"Run down stais, fetch me my sewin' kit, some rum and Mista T's clean shirts."
He wished he could open his eyes but the lids seemed filled with lead.
He reached out; glad to see his arm still would move. "Lucy!" It had to be Lucy, the two where inseparable. "Lucy."
Mrs. Lovett clucked, shoeing the girl out of the room after she dropped off the necessities.
"Bloody fools probly got it infected." She mumbled, carefully tugging the filthy shirt over his head. It was no wondered. If she was to understand right he laid on the floor with an open wound for half a week and now he's messing around with the disease spewin' bodies? Her throat tightened at that.
Toby was one of those bodies down there.
She sighed. Why was she so mad? She had been the one to lock him down there. She had been the one to leed Sweeney to him, She had been the one holding him ready and waiting until changing her mind at the last second.
Sighing she unwrapped his wound. Where her's had been a simple stab wound that fortunately hit nothing major his was a large gash, albeit shallower but crossing his abdomen starting beside his belly button and snaking up almost to his color bone.
It was bright red and puffy to the touch around the whole wound. Sighing she grabbed scissors from her sewing kit, emptied brandy in a bowl and dipped them in it, proceeding to sip her stitches.
More brandy was poured, this time in the wound, which was stitched closed again with liquor soaked thread and needle.
"All done." She sighed, standing stiffly.
"Ma'am?" Joannah approached the baker, currently lounging on the couch with a book. There was wearing an apron, flour on her face and hair, pairing knife loosely in her hand.
"Yes love? You need 'elp in the kitchen?" She moved to get up but Joanna gently held her in place.
"No-no, its still slow today, just rest, ok?" She sat down with a sigh, playing with the tip of the knife. "I wanted to ask you something."
"Why did he call me Lucy?"
"Who?" Mrs. Lovett feigned innocence as she was so often doing.
"Wot about him?"
Joanna gave her a hard look. "Whats going on Mrs. Lovett?"
Nellie opened her mouth to speak, debating with her self wither to lie or tell the truth. Still thinking she leaned forward, seeming suddenly focused on lighting the candle around her.
She looked up at the blond haired girl. "Ask 'im yourself love."
Joanna frowned. "I will, as soon as he's better I'll ask him and I will get an answer."
The maroon haired woman felt an involuntary shudder go through her. Maybe it was her imagination but the way the candlelight reflected off her eyes and the knife seemed down right sinister.
Sorry for the long time between updates, um, roll call who still out there ^^' ?