"We're still closed."
The echo of the old bell she had long ago attached to pie shop's door customarily signaled the arrival of a patron. However, as it was three hours before the shop actually opened, that particular customer was not welcomed. The patter of footsteps coming her way prompted Nellie to stop her mopping. It took her one single glance to recognize the silhouette of the new arrival—she really was not welcomed. So, Nellie leaned on her mop and with one hand on her hip, greeted Mrs. Lynde with a scowl.
"Go away."
The old woman remained unperturbed. "Hello to you too, Mrs. Lovett," she greeted too brightly for Nellie's liking. "I reckon you received the gift I sent a few days ago?"
"Oh, bugger off," she waved off the end of her mop closed to Mrs. Lynde's face as a threat. "I ought to ring your neck! What business did you have sending him here?"
"Come on, Nellie. Don't get your knickers in a bunch," said Mrs. Lynde while trying to pacify her friend. "It's been too long for you! Don't tell me you didn't find Mr. Oakley quite appealing, eh?"
Nellie was ready to throw the mop to her so-called friend in retaliation for her crude teasing when she spotted Sweeney halted a few steps into the pie shop, a tray of empty breakfast dishes in his hands. After the day they have visited the graves, Sweeney has never again voluntarily ventured downstairs on his own accord in broad daylight, only at night he would deign to appear. It would always take a lot of persuading—begging even—from Nellie's part for him to join her and Lia during their morning leisure hours. She hurriedly ran towards him, almost tripping on her voluminous skirts, Mrs. Lynde hot on her heels.
"Oooooh, is he why you didn't like my present?" Mrs. Lynde asked as she mischievously bumped her wide hips to Nellie's. To the bewildered man, she introduced herself with a clumsy curtsey, "Rachel Lynde, at your service."
Sweeney only threw her an icy glare in return, turned over the tray to Nellie's hands and in few wide strides was out of the pie shop.
"Try as he might to look scary, he sure looks good. More appealing than the butcher if I must say." She slapped her right hand to Nellie's bottom. "You've struck gold here, you little imp."
Why was it that the first time Sweeney chose to go down in the morn was also the time Rachel Lynde chose to gossip? Exasperated as she was in the turn of events, she dumped the tray she was carrying to the nearest table, its content clattering from her force. She turned to where Mrs. Lynde stood and with both hands, pushed her out of the pie shop.
"Oi! We're not even properly introduced," protested the woman. "What's his name?"
It was taking her great effort to push the woman out as she was almost twice Nellie's size. "As you can see, the man is no longer here," Nellie managed to say in between pants. "He can't tell you his name when he's not here!" She shut them both out of the shop as soon as they stepped through the doorway.
"You can't keep him forever for yourself, Nellie Lovett!"
Nellie childishly stuck her tongue out to her friend and waved her off. "Shoo!" Mrs. Lynde made a good scene of tutting at her but was chuckling good-naturedly as she took herself away from Nellie's shop.
It took only a minute after Mrs. Lynde was out of sight when Nellie raced the stairs to the old barbershop. Her pace was so quick she had to grip on the railings to keep her from tumbling down the staircase. At the last moment before she made a fool of herself and burst through the door, she remembered to act coolly and collected herself. She had not bothered to knock, however, and entered the room as casually as she would her own.
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Metanoia
FanfictionWhen Sweeney Todd returns to Fleet Street, Eleanor Lovett and her daughter is waiting for him.