I remember Benjamin Barker. He pranced around on top of my shop, him and his ungrateful wife. His skin, so light and beautiful, shone everywhere he went. One day, he even presented his razors to me. Finest in England, they were.
Lucy was pretty, even I admitted it.
Johanna, however was a different story.
The little baby was content, gurgling happily when Benjamin would show her pictures of birds. At night, she would screech if Lucy wasn't there. And dear Lucy... She should have been modest. Judge Turpin and his greasy ol' pal, Beadle Bamford, saw that she was beautiful, too. And her simple rejection, mine heavens, what the bloody hell was she thinking?
Ben was taken away that very night.
I had watched him being silently drug out of the home upstairs, out of his beautiful parlour. He was blissfully unconscious, and his body thumped down each wooden, rickety step.
Sixteen years later, he waltzed into my shop, looking to rent out the space above. I wasn't sure it was him, but I snuck it out of him and reunited the poor man with his razors. I distinctly remembered telling him Lucy poisoned herself. It was true, mind you. She just lost her marbles and went on as a beggar woman. I never said she died!
Ah, yes. It was glorious for awhile. Whether it be the good business, or waltzing with him around the shop, it was breathtaking. Yes, it was perfect,
until stupid ol' Lucy popped into his life. Again. The poor lady... I laugh just thinking about it. Slit his own wife's throat, Sweeney did.
I never thought I'd grow so fond of Toby, though. The young man was always by my side. Mum, he started calling me. Tobias Ragg had also sworn to protect me, and I felt so loved... A tear will fall when I think of it.
I couldn't live up to my side of the promise. When I look up now, he's in a damned asylum. Toby, darling, you'd be better off dead than the life you lead now.
My disregards were the reason I died. I was a sorry excuse for a woman, me.
I musta scared the poor blighter, what with him running down to check on me. No, he came for the Judge. Pitiful Judge Turpin.
When he waltzed with me, I knew what was going to happen, yes I did. I wished he would just take his beautiful, silver razors to my throat. Nip my jugular, something to quickly kill me.
He threw me in the fire.
Pain, so much pain. Beyond belief, it hurt so badly. But, even though my skin was charring itself black, flaking off to the bone, the emotional turmoil hurt even more. Everything was gone. My last scream was drown out when he slammed the oven door shut and locked it.
And, I watched intently, Toby avenged me. He gave up his mind when Todd pushed his mother figure into her death. I love that boy... but now...
To find Mr. T and make him suffer. Yes, he won't be getting no more priest pies.