My Cutthroat Romance

Chapter 17

The barber stopped halfway up the stairs, his hands on the walls either side of him, shaking his head at himself. What was the matter with him? What was he thinking? Was he mad?

[i]“Of course you’re mad Todd.”[/i]

He frowned at the thought. He wasn’t mad, just a little bit…okay maybe he was a tiny bit mad, but that wasn’t his fault.

He cast his thoughts away and returned to his barber shop, avoiding all human contact along the way, and beginning to pace when he got there.

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Gerard stared blankly ahead of him into the brick wall on the other side of the bakehouse, trying to process what had just happened. He abandoned the meat grinder and went upstairs, passing his mother on the way.

“Gerard…are you alright?” She asked, stopping him.

“I’m fine.” He smiled lightly. “Just tired.”

Mrs. Lovett smiled fondly before letting him go on and do whatever he wanted to do. He trudged into the living room and sat down on one of the chairs, staring at the gin across the table. He grabbed it; taking a swig and putting the lid back on, still wondering what on earth had just happened. If he was honest, he had nearly stuffed up royally and kissed someone that he barely knew and all he [i]did[/i] know was that he had killed a man, and was highly likely to kill more. Never mind the fact that said person who he had nearly kissed was technically still married to a woman, whether she was dead or not. So why had he not moved away as soon as he had shown signs of doing anything?

[i]“He likes you.”[/i]

Gerard scolded himself for thinking such a thing. Like he had already gone through, he was still married, not to mention probably over ten years older than him. He put his head in his hands and sighed. All the thinking was giving him a headache.

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Sweeney stopped pacing at the window and looked out of it as best as he could despite the fact that the clearest thing he could see was the reflection of the room behind it. His eyes drifted to the dressing table where the photo of what was once him and his family. He turned to it with a frown before going over and closing the frame up and putting it in the drawer under the table. He re-organized the table and went back to the window, pacing again when he found that a sleeping city offered him no sanity, nor solace. Surely he hadn’t gone that mad? Prison didn’t change him that much, did it? Could a man possibly be so different after fifteen years?

It suddenly struck him how long fifteen years really was. Johanna would be sixteen by now. He frowned at his reflection in the window, maybe he [i]had[/i] changed so much that he really wasn’t himself anymore.

“I think you’ve lost your mind.” He muttered to his reflection with a sigh.

Well if that was the case, everyone else in the building was crazy too. They had to be! Toby was a ten year old alcoholic; Mrs. Lovett decided that it’d be a good idea to turn people into pies and Gerard…Gerard was Mrs. Lovett’s son, he must be crazy too. No, no that wasn’t good enough, there had to be a better reason, but he didn’t know him well enough. He did seem a bit odd though; there was just something about him. That’s it; he wasn’t mad, just strange.