a/n: Its been a while, huh. Gosh I'm as nervous as when I first started this. Worried that I've lost my touch, let me know if I'm still okay, alright? Still placing the re-caps at the start of each chapter just to clear things up :]

Just a note on why this has taken so long;
basically i had SUPERMASSIVE writers block. Not for the plot of the whole story, i've written that..just on how to write this, and the next few chapters. I hope i did okay. Besides that, between juggling VCE (yr11+12 subjects), work, friends, boyfriend, homeworkhomeworkhomework, kittens and seeing my dad (when i have to), its sometimes a bit difficult to fit in time to breathe, let alone write 2000+ words in one timeslot. Still, I'll do my best from now on. I've missed this. Love to you all. xx

Ah, also a quick note. I've edited this down to 24 chapters from whatever I had, but the content hasn't changed- i just mixed chapters together to give myself more even chapter lengths. Also, this means that all reveiws previous to this chapter are now totally messed up in order, so if you read them and they don't match up with the chapter, thats why :)

RECAP;

"How did you know her?" he questioned, sounding almost desperate.

The woman smiled.

"I'm her sister."

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR; LIE, STILL

It was impossible.

Every detail she recalled was flawless. Irrefutable. From childhood to death, this young woman knew every single thing there was to know about Lucy Barker. Her account of their wedding, her knowledge of Benjamin's arrest and her detailed description of his late wife's suicide- it was all to perfect. Even her appearance mocked him now. The way her raven hair fell delicately around her face, the way she held herself, her delicate manner of speaking. They were nothing, yet so alike. The years had passed, and his memory may have failed him before, but now? No. There was no denying it. The woman stood before him was Lucy's sister. Nessa Carrington, formerly Patton.

"Sir?" the woman called to him, "..Sir?"

Mr. Todd looked up to her, his eyes glossed over.

"Sir, I do not mean to-" she paused, his reaction troubling her, "are you alright?"

"Fine."

"Well, Sir, I do not mean to retell all this simply for your own amusement," she started.

"No?" His voice contained an ever-so-slight sarcastic tone- as if he of all people could be amused by such information.

"You see, I did come here on matters of official business.." she continued, though noticing something of a far away look in his eyes, "it involves the man who used to live here, Benjamin, as I told you..and, well, financial matters"

Regaining interest only slightly, the barber replied, "what about it?"

"It doesn't really matter now, I mean, I'd assumed," she paused to laugh at herself, "I'd assumed you were Benjamin, that's why I came all this way!"

He froze, alarmed, "what?"

"Imagine that! Ah my, you do look nothing alike. Oh, not to be a bother but you don't hold half his good looks- I always did envy my sister in that respect. Dear, I was foolish in coming all this way."

Calmer, but far more confused, he spoke again, "Why would you assume that I," he swallowed hard, his own body fighting back the name, "was Benjamin?"

"Oh well, now I don't know if I can tell you that.." she trailed off, "oh, well, never mind! I shall anyway," she continued, the gossip within her surfacing, "you know Nel- Mrs. Lovett, down below?"

He nodded in response.

"Well, as I explained, we have known each other quite some time. We grew up together, though she was younger and spent her time mainly with my sister."

"Yes."

"Well, I learnt her mannerisms and expressions by heart- I watched the two younger girls a lot, you see. And when we were older, after Lucy came to stay here, we began to speak again. I think from the first moment I saw Ben walk into the room with Nel' beside me, I knew."

"Knew what?" he responded, though he was quite certain of her response.

"That she was in love with him, of course."

"Ah," he responded, his predictions being proved correct. Her recollection neither surprised nor bothered him; though he'd been oblivious to her feelings for him at the time, the years of reflection he'd had in prison had made him realise what he, no, Benjamin, had meant to her- but only after it had become far too late.

"It was awful to see. The way he doted on his then fiancee without any recogniton to spare to his former best friend. Lucy loved him, I won't deny that, but not the way Nellie did. She adored him, worshiped him, even. Enough to let him abandon her for somebody else. The time I was there, she cried every night, and I can reasonably assume she did so after and before by being there."

"I see," he replied, then, feigning compassion, "terrible."

"And the day of their wedding..oh! My sister picked Nellie for her bridesmaid! I can't even fathom how she stood so strong while she watched the man she loved marry another woman- and her supposed best friend, too." She paused, recollecting her thoughts, "Anyway, I'm digressing. Nellie was so in love with Ben that after he was taken, she never let the room to anybody, and I'd assumed she never would unless the man himself returned."

"Ah.."

"Yes, so when I heard of this room being let, I instantly assumed it would be to Mr. Barker, hence I came to discuss financial issues with the man himself. Though to no avail."

"What were you after, exactly?" he questioned, intrigued.

"Ah, just to see if he would consider a subsidiary payment to the family to relieve us of the costs we paid for Lucy's funeral and burial." She lied, of course. Her family had no given a cent towards Lucy's funeral or proceedings- but Benjamin didn't know that, and she was poor.

"Oh."

"Yes, I asked Mrs. Lovett if she thought, on the off chance that he may return, if he would do such a thing for us."

"Sorry?"

"And she replied that if Benjamin himself were ever to return she was positive he'd do everything he would to help. I myself quite agree."

He hadn't even fathomed until now that Mrs. Lovett remembered Nessa for what she was. "a friend from the old days," she'd said. But he hadn't listened. He hadn't even noticed how on edge she'd been when Nessa introduced herself. The barber was infuriated. He'd leant too much in the one day to keep himself at ease. Nessa Carrington was Lucy's sister. And Mrs. Lovett knew.

That bitch.

"He was a very generous man, you see," she continued, oblivious to his revelations.

How dare she keep this from him.

"Too kind, almost," she smiled at the memory.

"Enough." he spoke smoothly, his tone like ice.

Lack of experience hereof was her ruin; the woman continued to speak, "enough? No, no. He was far more than 'kind enough!'

The demonic barber was sitting on boiling point.

"Good ol' Ne;' even went so far as to say he might give her a small payment- in accordance with the rent he still owes her for the week he was captured!"

99.9 °C, 211.9 °F.

"Though of course, she'd never ask him for a cent," she assured.

He gritted his teeth.

"Not with the way she loved him- to see him would be enough to pay back a thousand weeks rent."

He gripped the window frame. How could she have kept this from him?!

"And even so, Nel' was never a big one for money," she continues, oblivious, "always had a penny or so for the poor even as a child."

She hadn't seen the warning signs before- the poor woman had no clue what she was stirring within him.

"Did she ever talk to you about the old days? About Ben? Lucy?"

The baker knew full well everything this woman had told him. She knew that Nessa knew Lucy, knew Ben. She knew everything. And she hadn't even hinted. He could honestly kill her.

"I suppose not," she continued at his silence, "she's a very private person, very careful."

He clenched his jaw so keep from yelling. This would not end well.

"Most honest person I know, though," she followed, "never once did she lie to me, not even about her love for Benjamin," she smiled, "yes, very honest."

100 °C, 212 °F.

"Enough!" he yelled, glaring at her.

Boiling point.

He stormed past the now terrified woman, slamming the door on his way out.

Mrs. Lovett froze as she heard the unmistakable sound of Mr. Todd's furious shout.

What the he-

Mr. Todd stormed into the kitchen.

"What the hell is she doing here?" he seethed at her.

"What?" the baker squeaked, alarmed by his sudden outburst, "I told ya, she's a friend from the ol' days."

He glared at her.

"You got that right," he growled.

Panic overtook her. Oh sweet Jesus, did he know?

"Whatever d'ya mean love?" she tried, keeping her voice under moderate control.

"You know exactly what I mean."

"'fraid not love," she replied. Oh dear God, please don't let her have told him..

"You know what she told me?!" he hissed.

Shit.

"She told me everything I couldn't remember about Benjamin's wedding, about Lucy's childhood, her funeral," he growled, "your childhood too."

His glare froze her. She nearly cried at how unfair this was.

"I-, I didn't even-," she stuttered, "I didn't know.."

"Liar."

"I-"

"LIAR!" he roared.

The baker simply stood there.

"You knew because you'd never forget about the days on the coast. You know because you'd never let got of any moments you spent with Ben- and she was there for some. You know because when she arrived here she told you she was here to see Ben, that she wanted his money- and you told her he'd happily give it up for her. You knew exactly who she was," he seethed at her, his voice filled with raw anger, "and you never thought to tell me this woman was my wife's sister?!"

He had her pinned, with each his gaze, hands and words. She stared up at him through glassy eyes.

"You'd never 'ave let 'er stay.."

"Damn right I wouldn't have!"

He was grasping her neck so tightly she thought she might suffocate. She somewhat hoped she would, it'd clear her of whatever was to follow.

"How dare you keep this from me," he breathed, "what gave you the right?!"

"She's my friend," she pleaded, "I jus' wanted her to sat 'ere for a bit."

"She's Lucy's sister, that's who she is!"

"Oh, so what?" she bit back.

It was stupid, she knew, to challenge him at times like these- but such was her nature.

"So," he glared at her, "she's leaving."

"No!" she squeaked, "she can't!"

She felt the cold rush of icy metal against her neck.

"She can."

She hadn't meant for him to ever discover the truth about Nessa- why the hell had Nessa told him? She knew she'd been stupid in trying to conceal the facts from him, Sweeney always had a way of finding out the truth; but what was she meant to do?

"Its fine, she thinks Ben's still in priso-" she stuttered, her heart dropping to her stomach, "wait, why did she-, she didn't know, did she? Good 'eavens she didn't recognise ya did she? Oh ya didn't tell 'er, did ya?"

"Of course not you stupid woman," he spat at her, "but she could have. You could have ruined everything."

"bu' I didn't.." she whispered.

"You might as well have!" he yelled, flashing yet another razor to her neck- one to each side.

He pressed one of his dear friends into the let side of neck just slightly, sending shining rubies delicately down her neck and chest to the lace neckline of her dress.

She squirmed against the wall to escape the pain, but he was far too strong for her tiny frame.

"Did you really think I wouldn't catch on, hm?" he seethed, "did you really think you could outsmart me?"

"Well if she didn't tell you you'd never have know!" she cried out, simply protesting for the sake of it.

"I would've. I would've seen the resemblance soon enough- she's Lucy's sister for Christ's sake!"

"Oh, please," she dared, "you can't even remember her, let alone her sister. Can you? Hm?"

"You dare-"

"What colour hair did she have again?" she cut in, "Wheat? Flaxen? Tawny?"

"H-"

"Can't remember, can you?" she concluded.

She glared accusingly at him and was met with equally cold eyes. And then a kiss.

What the hell?

Sweeney hadn't meant to kiss her. He'd come down to the kitchen with every intention to harm the woman- to say the least. But hell, he'd have to be a bloody robot not to notice how she squirmed, writhed between himself and the wall, to ignore the heaving of her overexposed chest, or to pretend not to notice how the thin trickle of blood from her neck had dipped right between her breasts. It was simply too much- and it had been too long.

The baker was just as confused- momentarily, though. It had become their way. Well, his way, at least. Anger was best released sexually, apparently. It annoyed her somewhat, though she was partial to his methods. It upset her only that she knew this was nothing more than anger. Not even desire- well, perhaps a tiny amount- but majority of his passion was fuelled by rage. Sure, It made for more exiting 'adventures', but colder, lonelier nights.

Kissing along her décolletage, he winced in disgust for himself. He hated how dependant he had become on her. It was his weakness. He was only a man, afterall- and she wore her corsettes decidedly tighter than she should. Excuses aside, he hated it. Though he hated more the fact that it was her he was confined to 'using'. Of course there were those of the street that he could releive himself with, but they were unclean- Lord only knew what scum had been there. Without that option, he was left with only one, and as much as he hated that he was reduce to her, he had to admit, it was convenient. It disgusted him, though, how easy she was. She disgusted him. He wanted sex, not sex with her- and she didn't seem to understand that. The way she reacted to his touch appalled him. She enjoyed it and it made him sick. She was the complete opposite to Lucy, who had laid there, stone still and silent, save for coo-ing and encouraging him. Lucy had been proper. Lucy had been-

Ah.

He stopped his attack on her clothes immediately. The baker watched dumbfounded as he stepped back from her, smirking, and walked out of her shop.

Nessa Carrington sat on a small chair in the far corner of the room, contemplating what had just occurred between herself and the barber. His behaviour perplexed her immensely. She shook her head, no wonder Mrs. Lovett was always on edge around him, what with a temper like that. She stood and straightened her skirt as she heard the barber climbing the stairway.

Sweeney smiled sadistically at as he entered his parlour.

Lucy had been the perfect lover.

Perhaps it ran in the family?