Esteemed Malevolence

XIX: Guilty Pleasures

New Year's Eve, On The Approach to Midnight

Post-Christmas was always incredibly slow for any business, until the night of New Year's Eve. It was the first evening that had been busy for quite some time at Mrs Lovett's Meat Pie Emporium.

A steady trail of hungry customers traipsed into her shop as soon as she opened the door for the evening rush - luckily Eleanor still had 'meat' leftover from Christmas Eve, she was still suffering from the backlash of Mr Todd's blood-lust even then. She knew it was inevitable that he would only add to the deteriorating pile of corpses, rather than wait for her to get to a manageable point for him to kill fresh victims...

While she was rushed off her feet tending tables in the courtyard, the barber was pacing his floorboards, open razor in hand. His thoughts were split in two - one half of him urged to spy on his accomplice through his window, the other half told him to keep his mind cleanly on his revenge. He had no concept of the current time, nor knowledge that he'd in fact been pacing for quite a few hours, and had even missed out on coaxing a good number of victims up his stairs.

It had been days since he'd last spoken with Mrs Lovett, and although her distance was something he was certain he wanted, he wasn't so sure that it was helping him. The more time that he spent away from her, the more she flooded into his mind, engulfing and morphing his ambition. He was confused as to why... being away from her was something he always used to treasure. Being alone was what he craved...

Wasn't it?

He shook his head and paused, his hand hanging loosely by his side, the razor still tucked snugly inside his palm. He frowned down at his feet, eyes ablaze with frenzied thoughts.

He could hear the rumble of the customers below and he clenched his jaw, wincing at the mindless noise of people creeping into his shop... they were particularly rowdy on this night, and he already felt his blood boiling with annoyance. The ambience should have been expected. Had he known that it was New Year's Eve, he perhaps would have just got on with his throat-slitting and bared it. Yet as soon as he'd noticed the noise, it was like it only climbed up in volume - all in spite of him noticing.

Eleanor Lovett, on the other hand, knew that the louder her customers were, the better her business appeared to be.

" 'Nother over 'ere, sunshine!" one pot-bellied man yelled, waving at her amongst the people crammed in on the cramped benches. The baker obliged, following the sound of the man's overly loud call for more pie. She gave him a wry smile as she carried the tray to the table where he was sat, frowning with annoyance as he snatched up three pies without waiting for her to do her job and hand him one instead. Nevertheless, she beamed her smile wider and caught the money as he tipped it into her palms, though she couldn't bear to be near the impolite man any longer. Turning away with the tray firmly in her hands, she dropped the feigned emotion immediately, the flash of her true bother evident over her pallid features.

Thank god no one caught glimpse of the black look that swept over her for those few seconds, that single look alone would have made anyone question her integrity, not to mention her rationality.

She continued to absentmindedly play her role of innocent pie baker even as dark thoughts consumed her mind, adorning a warm smile that didn't quite reach her eyes as her hands exchanged pie after pie, for coin after coin.

'Would it be so bad to suggest 'at man to go an' see Mr T in is parlour upstairs?' she thought to herself, eyes undeniably darkening with sadistic excitement - though it could have easily been mistaken for interest in whatever gossip she was being fed from nearby customers. 'Great useless lump 'e is, doesn't even 'ave an ounce'a patience for anybody. What use is 'e to this world?'