Habits

Living Life Apart

Eleanore still couldn't believe what Johanna was telling her. He actually left her. No, he couldn't have, this was simply a nightmare. A horrible dream but she would soon wake up and Sweeney would be there to comfort her.

"No. He's not gone, don't lie to me Johanna, please." She wiped away the tears that welled in her eyes.

"I'm so sorry Eleanore. I wish it wasn't true." Johanna sighed.

Eleanore left the room her breathing heavy. This was real, Sweeney had left her. He was gone. Her sadness was suddenly overcome by anger. Sure she'd lied, kept a secret that she shouldn't have and Sweeney had every right to be angry but he promised he'd never leave her. Perhaps he expected her to follow him but she'd do no such thing. She looked down on the ring she'd so proudly worn before and grimaced.  Pulling it off she threw it across the room tears brimming in her eyes again.

——————————————————

It felt as if he was moving in reverse as he stepped back onto the streets of London.  He kept his face hidden from the people around him in fear of being recognized. Fortunately no one near him bothered looking up from the street and he was able to get through the crowd heading to the old, familiar Fleet Street. It felt strange walking down the road that felt so familiar and yet so different.

As he walked through the shadows memories of Nellie took over his mind.  A pang of guilt shot through him but he shoved it away.  He couldn't be soft, he hadn't survived in this cruel world by feeling pain, he'd hid the pain and fought back. He wouldn't stop fighting now.

It was then he saw it. Ahead of him, something that made his skin crawl. His shop. Sweeney slowly made his way towards it. He looked down while passing the pie shop ignoring the guilt he felt doing so.

The stairs creaked loudly as he made his way up them.  His hand ran up the rail beside him tracing the pattern engraved into the wood.  As he reached the door he noticed it.  His chair was gone and was replaced with quite beautiful furniture.

Sweeney knocked on the door and within a few seconds it was opened by a man who held a bottle of what Sweeney assumed was gin.  He was a handsome man, dressed smartly and short blonde hair.

"Who are you?" He asked scanning Sweeney up and down.

Sweeney didn't know how to respond, he couldn't use his real name, "John," he found himself saying, "John Macy, and you?"

"Richard, may I ask why you're here?"

Again Sweeney's mind began to race, "I um... I'm planning on renting out the room downstairs but I don't have enough at the moment and I was wondering if you had any space for me to stay until I can afford it." He only then realized what he'd said, what the fuck was he doing?

"I guess, if you really need to you can stay on the sofa unless we work something else out."

Sweeney nodded, not fully hearing. He was too busy scanning the inside of the room. It was so weird seeing such a change to this sinister room.  Hundreds of men were killed right here but the only things that seemed to have died were flowers that hadn't gotten enough water.

"Come on in John."

——————————————————

Toby watched worriedly as Eleanore necked back yet another glass of gin.  He understood that Mr. Todd had done something unforgivable but her constant drinking was worrisome.

"Mum would ya please hold back on the gin?" He begged.

Eleanore turned to him, "Sweeney's gone and that son of a bitch won't be back and even if he does come back the bastard isn't getting anywhere near me."