Wedding night

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Fleet Street was empty when Sweeney Todd returned for the second time that day, well past dinner time. After Arthur's arrest he came to the realisation that there was no way he'd be able to steal Albert's money now, the man would be watching over it like a hawk from then on. Not that he'd be allowed in the vicinity of his shop anymore. Resigned, he went to most inns and bed and breakfasts in the city of Westminster, as well as Camden and the Southbank, even venturing into the East End, although he stayed clear of the most dangerous areas like the Nichol in Eleanor's very own Whitechapel. But he still found nothing so he made his return to the flat above the butcher's shop. For better or for worse, it was the place he called home and it pained him to think it wouldn't be for much longer. That mouldy room with torn wallpaper and chipped wood floors was the only housing he and Lucy could afford after they married and with love and care they turned into a proper home for themselves and later on their daughter. It was the same room he was so adamant in renting back when he returned from Australia. He'd dreamed of it still being inhabited by his family, his Lucy as beautiful as ever and Johanna no longer a baby but a proper young lady herself and as beautiful as her mother, only to find it empty, the walls once again mouldy, the wood floors chipped, the only inhabitants: the ghosts of his past. It was inside those four walls that he found a new purpose, where he planned his revenge and fulfilled his dream of having his own tonsorial parlour, which doubled as one of the gates to hell. It was also where he slit Bamford and Turpin's throats and finally made them pay for destroying his life... But it was also in that room where he took her most evenings, with the few stars that shone in the grey London sky and through the dusty bay window as the only witnesses of his reluctant but oh so true affection.

He stopped that train of thought. Terrible things had happened in this room, he had no right to remember it fondly! It was there where he'd slit Lucy's throat, for Pete's sake! And they'd find another one, a better one, away from London and Eleanor and Turpin. A bigger one so they could have more children, with more windows, with a cheery wallpaper that brightened up the room and he'd fill it with daisies for her, or was it gillyflowers that she liked? He cursed himself, for he could no longer remember. The baker had surreptitiously ensnared herself into his memories, making him forget what really mattered. But soon enough, it would be Eleanor who'd become nothing but a memory. He mentally prepared himself to talk to his wife as he ascended the stairs, determined to salvage their marriage but aware that he could disappoint her again when he told her they would have to spend the night on the streets because he would never beg Albert or worse, Eleanor, for mercy. Sweeney Todd did not beg. He sighed, realising Benjamin would certainly have begged to keep his girls safe but Sweeney's pride was too strong. In fact, Benjamin would do anything for them, he was a good father, a faithful and loving husband. All Sweeney did was foul up. He did not deserve them.

He was surprised to see Lucy clearing away the dinner plates, everything was as they'd left it this morning and there not in boxes or piles on the floor. Their daughter slept peacefully in her cot. It was as if they weren't about to lose their home. She must have seen the surprise in his face because she spoke softly.

"Mr. Lovett had a change of heart, we can stay" he quirked his eyebrow so she continued in a bitter tone "of course now that the lad stole all his money, he can't do without the rent we pay him every week. He did raise it a bit, but I hope that now that you don't have to go all the way to Whitechapel to see her, your days will be more productive." Sweeney was surprised to hear Arthur had succeeded in stealing the money but he didn't say anything. Instead, he focused on his still clearly upset wife.

"Lucy, I..." he began, fully intending to deny it all before he realised that lies had only helped him dig a deeper hole. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I lied to you. I still love you, you know. That part was true."

She shook her head. "If you loved me, you wouldn't have the need to follow that dollymop around, you wouldn't be so invested in her affairs. And you wouldn't... get lustful in her presence."

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