This alternative universe oneshot has been inspired by reading 'The Everlasting Gobstopper' by Yva J. In it, the premise was what would have happened if Charlie hadn't spoken when placing the gobstopper he had been given on Wonka's desk. This one focuses on the question of what might happen if Grandpa Joe had not mentioned the gobstoppers on his way out of the office, and Charlie had therefore forgotten he had one until later on. This is a Wilder Wonka based fic.
A Missed Opportunity
It was the Monday following the day Wonka's Chocolate Factory had been opened to five lucky ticket finders. One of the five, Charlie Bucket was returning to school with his heart full of dread. How did he admit to the ignominious end to the tour? He certainly didn't want to mention the terrible argument his Grandpa had with Mr Wonka. Nor was he overly keen on mentioning the Fizzy Lifting Juice incident. If he could just keep them off of the topic of how the tour ended maybe it would be alright. Surely there would be enough to talk about without going into those details.
He smiled reflectively to himself, talking about the chocolate room would be good, and the various antics of the rest of the group would be ok. He had also loved the boat and whatever one would call the Wonkamobile to people who had no frame of reference for the machine which ran on fizzy juice.
Charlie was still traumatised about having it pointed out to him that he and Grandpa had stolen from the eccentric Chocolatier. He had never meant to steal, and if he'd thought about it, he would never have taken the fizzy lifting juice. It had been an impulsive action, while he was caught up in the moment. He had thought of himself as being an essentially good boy, not given to violence or terrible vices, looking out for others as much as himself. He knew he made mistakes on occasion, but had never had any of them pointed out to him as baldly as that one had been.
Mom and his other three grandparents had been shocked when they heard about it – and very disappointed. Charlie seemed to gather that they were disappointed in Mr Wonka more than him, although they did accept he had done something he shouldn't have. Between them the four adults had cooled Grandpa Joe down and their sensible talking soon brought him to the place where he would accept that seeking revenge on Mr Wonka wasn't a good idea. Being disappointed in the man was one thing, but acting on that feeling, especially while he was still so angry, was something completely different.
Charlie had left them to it, creeping off to his small corner of the cottage and curling up on the bed. Sitting there, he cried for a few minutes as he tried to process all that had happened, and slowly he came to the conclusion that he needed to make some kind of apology to Mr Wonka, he just didn't know how as yet.
A few minutes later, his Mom came in to sit next to him. She slipped an arm around his shoulder, and encouraged him to tell her what he was thinking. She seemed rather surprised at how much of his sadness was in relation to the fact he had failed to live up to the standards he had always been taught. It seemed she thought he would be most disappointed at missing out on the large supply of chocolate promised to all those who were on the tour.
"I feel so ashamed Mom." He admitted quietly. "Here Mr Wonka let me have such a huge treat, and I have to go and abuse his trust like that. That's far more important than any amount of chocolate." Then he looked up at her, his eyes swimming. "I don't know if I'll ever eat another chocolate again – it would be too much of a reminder" he exclaimed passionately – "All I know right now is that I need to make some kind of apology and I don't know how!" With that, he broke down completely.
His Mom just held him close, rocking gently while she did so. "Well... Why not write Mr Wonka a note?" she suggested. "You could draw a picture as well if you wanted – possibly including some of your impressions of the factory." Charlie smiled as he thought about that possibility. Some of the events he remembered would be impossible for him to capture, but he could always try. He knew some things he would like to try already... One of Mr Wonka standing at the factory gates would be good. Possibly he might do one of Violet as a blueberry and one of Veruca standing on the eggdicator. He considered pictures of Mike and Augustus, but admitted he might find it rather difficult to capture their mistakes. And he definitely needed to draw some of the Oompa Loompa's. The Chocolate River and waterfall would be good as well.
His Mom smiled back at him. "I'm glad that seems to have captured your fancy. You'd best leave it until morning though. Why don't I bring you some supper and you can try to get some sleep. You must be exhausted after crying like that on top of your busy day," she pointed out.
That evening, as he was getting ready for bed, Charlie discovered the Everlasting Gobstopper in his pocket. He still had it! He wasn't too surprised that he'd forgotten about it, given everything else that had gone on. He knew he couldn't hold onto it now though. Like the taste of chocolate, it would be too much of a reminder of all that had gone wrong today. Gently he took it out of his pocket and laid it on the table. When his Mom came in with his evening meal of cabbage water he mentioned his thoughts on the matter to her. "That's a good idea Charlie – I'll see if I can find you some card to wrap it up with in the morning." She told him, before kissing him on the cheek and wishing him a good night's sleep.
The next morning was Sunday, and as soon as he woke up Charlie immediately started working on a letter to post through the post box at the factory gates. He was used to doing something similar occasionally, as year by year he had created a small homemade Christmas card, which he sent to Mr Wonka. There was no point in not making the most of living so close to your hero after all. This was a far harder process than creating a special Christmas card though.
"Dear Mr Wonka" it started. That much had been simple enough. The rest of the letter had taken a lot more crafting though.
"I'm writing to tell you that I am deeply ashamed of the way I treated you on Saturday, and wish to apologise."
The second line took a bit more thought, but he got there in the end by admitting exactly how he was feeling about the situation.
"I know it's not worth much, but I would never have done such a thing if I had thought about what I was doing. My family brought me up better than to steal from people, and I know I've let everyone down by my actions." He struggled a little more at this point, not really knowing what to say next. He couldn't avoid mentioning his Grandfather's behaviour, but...
"I wish I could pass on my Grandfather's apologies for the way he spoke to you before we left, but it seems he's too angry for that as yet. At least the rest of our family have got him calmed down to the point where he's no longer threatening revenge though."
After a few stuttering starts, Charlie got something down he felt might just about cover that subject adequately. Then he decided it was time to talk about what else he was doing to apologise.
"Please find enclosed some pictures I have drawn of my impressions of the tour – your factory is a truly wonderful place, and I shall remember it with joy. I am also returning the gobstopper you gave me, which I found in my pocket last night. I'd have left it with you if I had remembered its existence before. I might have enjoyed it before, but now it will simply remind me of the silly mistake I made."
Charlie reread this last line a moment, wondering if Mr Wonka might think he was making light of his actions by referring to them in such a way.
"I'm sorry if my calling my actions such offends you, it isn't my intention, but I didn't mean to break the rules either. I know that's a poor excuse, and that my current actions may not be enough to improve your opinion of me, but I have to do something. I just feel so guilty.
Knowing that what he had down so far wasn't perfect Charlie sighed. At least it should help the man understand a little better. He bent down again to finish it off. "Anyway, I'll finish by saying 'I'm sorry,' and that I hope your week goes better than the weekend did.
"I will remember you (and the Oompa Loompa's) fondly. "Charlie Bucket""
With the letter finally written, albeit in a rather messy, tear stained manner, Charlie turned his attention to the pictures he had decided to send with it.
He began by pulling some pages out the pages out of an old, worn jotter, paying careful attention so as not to rip them too much, before looking out the crayons that were stashed at the back of a drawer. They were also worn, but care and the eye to detail Charlie had developed, meant that he could still get a pretty credible result while using them. He drew six pictures, each roughly the size of the page he was using, gently tearing them out of the jotter once he was finished. Then he wrote a label under each one "Mr Wonka at the Factory Gate." "Oompa Loompa's creaming and sugaring the river." "Violet turned into a Blueberry." "Veruca standing on the Eggdicator." "Grandpa Joe gets his hat removed for him by a hand coat hanger" "Mr Wonka tasting the nectar of a flower.
His work done, Charlie went and asked his Mom about the cardboard. She smiled at him again. "It's almost lunch time." She said, "I'll look some out for you right after we've eaten." She promised.
As he and his Mom sat at the table, his four Grandparents lay on the bed, also eating their cabbage water. "I've not seen you all morning Charlie!" exclaimed Grandpa Joe, when they had nearly finished eating. "What have you been doing with yourself?" he asked.
Charlie looked up at the older man gravely. "I've been writing a letter of apology to Mr Wonka." He explained stiffly, before taking the last mouthful of food from his bowl. "Well, that and drawing him some pictures of the different things that happened yesterday." He continued, loosening up slightly after he swallowed.
Grandpa Joe had looked taken aback at the implied criticism, but didn't say anything as Charlie's other grandparents asked to take a look at the pictures. Quickly, glancing at his mother for permission to leave the table, he went to his room and picked up the loose leaves he had left on the desk once he had finished drawing them. He returned to the room to find his Mom hovering near the bed as well, also keen to get a look at Charlie's art work. Charlie didn't often draw, but he was quite skilled at it.
As they passed the different pictures around Charlie saw numerous different expressions flit across his relatives faces. Even Grandpa Joe was pulled in, describing to the others what had just been happening in the different scenes. Mom looked horrified at the pictures of Veruca and Violet – partly at what had happened to them, but also partly at their behaviour. She had been somewhat mollified when Charlie informed her that Mr Wonka had promised they would emerge from their adventures none the worse for the experience.
Then Mom remembered she had promised him to locate some cardboard to give the gobstopper a little more protection. She soon located an old cereal packet which he carefully cut up and sellotaped around the strangely shaped object. Then he slipped everything into a large envelope, carefully writing "Mr. W. Wonka" on the outside.
It was too dark for Charlie to deliver it by the time he was finished, so he promised himself that he would post it on his way to school the following morning. He then went and spent what was left of the day perching on the end of his Grandparents bed, silently listening to them talking the previous week over. Often he joined in this discussion, but on this evening he wasn't exactly feeling talkative, so he just sat and listened. That letter would weigh on him until he managed to deliver it.
So it was that first thing the following morning he got up, quickly dressed, and checked his satchel to make sure that the precious envelope was still inside it. Then he pulled his shoes on and quickly said goodbye to his family, swiftly refusing the offer of something to eat before he left. "I'm not hungry" he excused himself as he slipped out of the door. Though he might regret it later, Charlie had gone for longer without food, and he knew he wouldn't be able to eat anything until he had posted the letter.
Stomach churning, he walked up to the gates, and slipped it through the post box built into the side of the wall. Then, glancing round in the hope that no one had noticed him, he rushed off down the path to school. He knew this part of the day wasn't going to be terribly easy either, with all the questions his classmates and teachers were sure to ask him, but at least he had got that awful letter off of his mind now. Even if he was going to have to deal with becoming a minor celebrity over night, he no longer had to worry about the thing which concerned him the most, it had been dealt with. He smiled to himself a little secretively, wondering if there would be any response to his note, trying to convince himself that it he didn't care either way.
Back at the factory James Wilkinson sighed in resignation. He was employed as Personal Assistant to Willy Wonka, and had been the only employee to remain with him when the factory closed its gates to workers all those years before. The years of friendship, and dedicated service, had saved his job when everyone else was sacked. Well, that, he thought, and possibly the fact that Willy was aware that he'd never manage to get through all he had to in a day without his faithful friend at his side.
The last day or so his usually genial employer had been going around like a bear with a sore head. He had been utterly disappointed in his hopes that the factory tour held over the weekend would provide a gem. Someone who he could pass the chocolate factory to when he came into his old age, someone who would continue to run it on present lines, caring more for chocolate and young people than for profits, and looking on the Oompa Loompa's as family.
Most of the disappointments had been expected, but Willy had held high hopes for one of the candidates. Charlie Bucket was at first sight a lovely boy. He was friendly and kind, he was caring towards everyone, even those who treated him horribly. He had made a minor slip up with the fizzy lifting juice, but that wasn't anything too serious, it could have been easily excused, if he hadn't failed the final test that was.
They had caught each of the unsuspecting candidates with a ruse about one of Wonka's latest inventions, the everlasting gobstopper. James had dressed in a dark suit and had managed to encounter each of them soon after they discovered the ticket. He had introduced himself as Arthur Slugworth, a well known and rather vicious competitor of Wonka's. He then requested that each child procure him one of the gobstoppers, promising huge sums of money for the service.
James wondered slightly if the test had been rather too obscure. Willy imagined that the only reason any of the children would want a gobstopper was to receive the promised cash. Anyone who would do that wasn't someone they wanted to introduce to the factory as the future heir. However, for a boy such as Charlie, there could be a number of reasons behind it. The call of candy that you could suck on forever and a day without it getting any smaller had to be appealing to a child with very little money to spend on sweets. And Charlie didn't seem like the kind of child who would make a promise with the intension of breaking it as soon as he got the chance.
Once the boy had fallen at the first hurdle he could have quite easily have forgotten about the gobstopper, or decided to keep it as a memento, as well as the reasons he must have had for asking for one in the first place. If only the boy had realised that if he gave up that one small thing, he would gain so much more back. A gobstopper, even one which would never disintegrate into nothing, was nothing compared to becoming future owner of the factory which created it!
Now James had to find out what Willy wanted to do next. He'd had yesterday to come to terms with the fact that his grand idea for the ticket hunt had failed to produce any fruit, now he needed to come up with another idea. Thankfully the factory was mostly back to normal. They had quickly got the fizzy lifting juice room ceiling sorted, that was a routine job which took place regularly anyway. Clearing out the chocolate river had taken a little more organising – they'd had to stop the waterfall, drain the river, completely sterilise the banks and pipes, and then restart the waterfall so it could fill up again.
Thankfully the commotions in the inventing room and the TV room hadn't taken much fixing up – although the extra pots Willy had thrown the shoes, clock, and boiler suit into had needed removing. How Willy could imagine that anyone would believe such items were involved in any of their produce James couldn't tell, but he had insisted on doing it. This simply left the Goose room. That was an utter shambles. Veruca had thrown things all over the place, and sent a trolley careening into the empty boxes which were waiting to be filled with the golden eggs as they were produced.
The Oompa Loompa's present at the time had hurried to clear up what they could, and had worked hard on it yesterday as well, but there was still more needing done. And worst of all, the geese hadn't laid a good egg since the fiasco where Veruca went down the garbage chute, followed quickly by her father. Hopefully they would settle down again soon.
While he was ruminating, a light in the corner of the room suddenly flashed at him, signifying that something had been placed in the letter box. Quickly James glanced at his watch. It was surely far too early for the post man to have arrived yet. Curious now, he slowly got up, picked up the key to the post box and slipped out into the courtyard. Quickly pulling out the contents of the box, he found what appeared to be a homemade, rather misshapen envelope. Locking the box without looking at his findings any further, he retreated back inside to his office. It was a cold October day, more like winter than autumn, and there was no temptation to remain outside the factory.
As PA, it was one of his roles to open all post and take care of any routine items and hate mail. Only things which were out of the ordinary did he pass onto his boss for dealing with – Willy absolutely detested dealing with the post, so James saw to the great majority of it. This being the case, he hardly hesitated before opening the package, and sliding the contents out. This particular bit of mail was on the bulky side, so he was particularly careful when removing it.
Soon he was relieved that he had taken such care, as a strangely shaped object wrapped in cardboard fell out into his lap. Quickly putting the pages he was still holding onto his desk he picked up the object and examined it. A moment later he had dropped it unceremoniously onto his desk alongside everything else, and was running through the factory looking for Willy. Nothing would answer the current situation but that his boss finish examining this mail for himself.
He headed initially to the inventing room, knowing that working on the various concoctions in the room was one of the things Willy loved to do when he needed to relax. Thankfully his guess proved accurate, and when he saw the expression on James' face Willy quickly extracted himself, requesting the Oompa Loompa's present to continue on with what he had been doing. It looked like he had been embroiled in yet another attempt to make the three course meal gum into something marketable.
"What's up James?" he asked as he fell into step with his friend. "You look highly excited." James smiled at him. "You just received an amazing bit of mail Willy!" he informed the other quickly. "I haven't looked carefully at the contents, but one item in particular made me believe you would want to see it right away." At that, Willy looked up sharply, falling back on an old habit of his of quoting something if he was ever uncertain about something. "Thinking is more interesting than knowing, but less interesting than looking. (Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe)" James smiled at his friend indulgently, patting him on the shoulder. "Then let's go look!" he stated, pulling Willy after him into his office, and placing the valuable post into his hands.
Willy started by putting the written sheaves of paper back on the desk, before gently pulling the sellotape away from the cardboard, opening it up to reveal "An Everlasting Gobstopper! Who did this belong to?" Willy suddenly exclaimed. James cleared his throat nervously. "Well, I'm not exactly sure sir." He admitted quietly. "It cannot belong to Mike Teevee as his was irreparably shrunken during his experiences with Wonkavision – it looked more like a speck of dust than candy. And Veruca Salt's was discovered amongst the garbage after she left. It must have fallen out of her pocket.
"We're not very sure about what happened to Violet's gobstopper though. There is a possibility it got squashed, or made otherwise inedible, but we just don't know." He sighed, wishing he had a more definitive answer for his boss, though he did admit that things were easier than they could have been – Augustus Gloop hadn't even reached the inventing room, so was never given one. "The other possibility is that it belonged to Charlie Bucket." James held his breath in case this last name would infuriate Willy more than any of the previous ones. You could never tell with him, and he had felt most let down by Charlie, for whatever reason. Even if the boy had been far better behaved than any of the others, Willy hadn't expected anything better from them. He had been very keen on Charlie though.
Thankfully Willy made no comment to this last suggestion, and gently placed the gobstopper down on the table, reaching out to pick up the papers. First of all there came a letter, written in a hesitant hand, and with the odd water-mark, as if the writer had been crying while working on it. The heartfelt words brought a lump to James' throat – and an odd look of remorse to Willy's face. Then there came the pictures, which had been mentioned in the letter. Glancing at a few of them James gave a chuckle of amusement.
Charlie had captured his subjects well. The two pictures of Willy were in poses which were highly typical of the man, leaving James to wonder how on earth he had done it without possessing a photograph to copy from. The look he had drawn on his Grandfather's face as he suddenly realised he had lost his hat was stunning. And to have captured it while using cheap crayons was even more astounding. The one of the Oompa Loompa's at the river showed particular attention to detail, and somehow managed to give a clear image of them, while also showing the amazing chocolate waterfall and river winding off towards the tunnels. As for the pictures of the two girls as they received their just deserts, they were beyond words. What a talented artist this boy was.
Suddenly James heard Willy sigh. "Charlie was all I hoped for and more." He commented. "And now I've lost him." James looked round in shock. "What do you mean, 'lost him?'" he asked quickly. Willy looked back at him pensively, before pulling the letter to the top again. "You just need to look at what he says here." He commented quietly. "I've lost his trust, embarrassed him, and made him feel that he can never make up for such a simple mistake. He did little wrong and I shouted at him, incensed at his Grandfather's words, and disappointed that he didn't act in the way I wanted him to. How can I ever make up for that?"
James stood up and went to stand by his friend's side, placing a friendly hand on his shoulder. "I don't think it's quite as bad as you make it out to be Willy." He told him gently. "Yes, a certain amount of what you say is true, but I don't think you've completely broken his trust in you. You just have to look at how he says he will always esteem you, that he has fond wishes and hopes for you and the Oompa Loompa's, and his words about how much the factory means to him. Yes, he may have been horribly hurt by your words and actions, but he was probably more hurt by feeling he deserved them. I think that if you respond to this letter in a similar manner you might find a way to repair things."
There was silence in the room for a few moments, until Willy opened his mouth one last time, to ask James just how he should go about making the apology he now knew was due to Charlie. James smiled sadly. "I'm not sure sir. The only thing I can tell you is that it will have to be done by you. The boy is too nervous about Mr Slugworth's offer for me to do anything about it. I would suggest you think for a little while, and then do something that's distinctly 'you.' Something few others would come up with." Then, feeling that Willy needed a bit of time to himself, James patted him once more on the shoulder, before quietly leaving the office.
That evening, when Charlie got home again after his paper round, it was to be the recipient of a rather large surprise. Sitting in the small room, which was completely dominated by the bed his grandparents lay upon, was a very familiar figure - one he had believed he would never see again. His Mom was sitting down next to the man, and they were both sipping on one of the rare cups of tea the family kept for special occasions.
Charlie entered the room, closing the door behind him, and then stopped dead. What was Mr Wonka doing here? How was Charlie supposed to act? Did he pretend that nothing had happened, and greet his grandparents as usual, or did he apologise to Mr Wonka personally now? At least he knew that Mr Wonka must have made peace with Grandpa Joe as the atmosphere he entered to was friendly, and Grandpa seemed his usual self, rather than the rather crotchety, embarrassed old man who had been with them the last few days.
Suddenly the decision was taken out of his hands as the visitor stood up and came to crouch in front of him. "Charlie," the man said gently, "I want to thank you for the letter you sent me this morning." The caring smile bestowed upon him brought an answering smile to Charlie's face. Then, Mr Wonka gently took hold of his hands, squeezing them lightly. "I also wanted to tender an apology of my own. I should never have shouted at you like that – you did nothing to deserve it." Charlie gaped at the man, hardly believing his ears. "Please forgive me for not writing to you, but I felt you deserved to be told this in person. Will you come and sit down at the table, so I can explain the whole story to you?" he questioned.
Slowly Charlie nodded, not really knowing how to form any words at that moment. Mr Wonka gently led him to the table and helped him to sit down before starting on his story. "A number of years ago I became very unwell. So unwell that I wasn't able to do any work for months, but took to my bed. A good friend of mine I hope to introduce you to properly soon, James Wilkinson, acts as my personal assistant, and he had the job of trying to keep the factory going. It was a horrendous job as he also had to look after the Oompa Loompa's, and make sure that I was alright. James is a wonderful man, please don't imagine he isn't, but he struggled with this, and things went downhill very quickly. He's an administrator, not someone who managing a factory comes very naturally to, and he struggled with the various emergencies which are part and parcel of a manager's life. In fact, as soon as I was safely on my feet again he begged me that I never put him in such a position again.
"It struck me as I returned to work that what I needed was someone I could pass the factory onto. Given James' experience I realised that it wasn't the best idea to leave it to an adult, and that the best way forwards for me would be to invite a child to come and stay in the factory with their whole family. This child would have to be a very special person – someone kind and caring who we would all gladly welcome into our home, someone who cared more about creating good chocolate than any financial gain, someone who would put the needs of the Oompa Loompa's above their abilities as workers, and who would be willing to come and learn how to run the factory from me, so that it could continue on in the way I have run it.
"The big question was how on earth I found such a child. I was sure they had to exist somewhere, but if I advertised for one how would I know they were being truthful? The chance of owning a Chocolate Factory, or even getting to meet me would tempt many people into trying to fool me. I knew of one child who cared enough to send me a homemade Christmas card each year, but they never signed their name, so I never knew who they were or where to find them. Eventually I came up with a scheme that might work. I would hide 5 golden tickets inside my candy bars, and those who found them could come to the factory to look round it. I would design several tests to see if any of them might turn out to be the one that I wanted.
"The first test was to have each child meet up with Mr Wilkinson. He would pretend to be Arthur Slugworth, and ask them all to get hold of one of the gobstoppers for him. He would then report back on his findings to me. I also scoured the papers, and had people watching the news to get the very latest reports on those who had actually found a ticket. I wanted to get every last insight into their characters, the factory itself was designed to have pitfalls for those who put their own interests first, and I'll admit that I selected some of the rooms very carefully, to see how each of the visitors would act when tempted with something. This last test wasn't extremely important, but it would likely show us exactly what we were going to be dealing with.
"My first impressions of the others weren't exactly great. I quickly despaired of finding anyone from amongst them who would be suitable. To say nothing of the fiasco that fake ticket was. As if that Millionaire didn't know that we must have some idea of the rough geographical area each ticket was sent to. Paraguay didn't come anywhere near featuring on the list of possible destinations. Besides which, I wanted at least one of the tickets to be found locally.
"And then, on the very morning the factory tour was to take place, there was an article in the morning paper all about a young local boy called Charlie Bucket, who had found a coin in the street the day before and used it to buy a bar of chocolate for his Grandfather, and in that bar he happened to find the last remaining Golden Ticket. He was especially interesting to me, as it quickly became clear that he had bought the chocolate bar with no expectation of winning anything as he believed the last ticket had already been found. He had a hard working life, and did his best to earn some money to help keep his family going. Suddenly I felt hope. There was a chance that this competition might produce a winner yet.
"Well, the big day came, and all of the visitors lived up to the expectations I had for them. There were four I wanted nothing more than to get rid of, and one I was longing to win – to put aside all hope of gain for himself and thus earn far more than he could have ever imagined. And for so long it seemed that you would. But then you ended up getting a gobstopper, and let your Grandfather tempt you into doing something I'd already said not to do. It was nice to know that your weak point wasn't things, but people you cared about – whereas the others did wrong without someone else suggesting they do so. I knew that you would fit in with everyone else at the factory, but if you didn't return the gobstopper to me how could I trust that you weren't keeping it for what you could get. You promised, and I was fairly sure you would keep your promise, but the others made a promise with no intention of doing so. How could I know I was reading you right for sure?
"And so, we moved on. And at the end of the tour, when everyone else had gone, you still had that dratted gobstopper in your pocket. I ranted and raved a bit in the hope you would decide to leave the gobstopper with me, but you didn't. OK" Wonka smiled at Charlie here, having caught a slightly disbelieving look from the boy "I admit that some of my ranting came from the fact that my hopes had been disappointed, but most of it was an attempt to have you decide the gobstopper wasn't worth it.
"But it didn't work. I did my worst, but you never thought to return the gobstopper, just left the room with your Grandfather. You left the office, closing the door behind you, and I abandoned the letter I was writing and started to cry. So many hopes came crashing down in that instant. I longed to follow you out and apologise for everything, but I couldn't. I just got on with my work, knowing I was going to have to find another way to do what I needed to do.
"And then, this morning, an amazing thing happened. Mr Wilkenson came to me while I was in the inventing room and told me I'd some post I would really want to look at. We were both stunned by the sincerity of your letter Charlie. You wrote it so well. And the pictures were wonderful. You have so much talent. Suddenly I knew hope again.
The world famous Chocolatier paused here, before coming to crouch in front of Charlie again, taking one of his hands. "Charlie, that was a long winded introduction to what I wanted to say." He admitted. "First of all, I want to beg that you would forgive me for the way I treated you and your grandfather on Saturday. Neither of you deserved to be treated that way." As he looked up he could see the tears starting to form in the boy's eyes, and he gently brushed them away with his thumb before continuing. "Secondly, I was wondering if you would be willing to move into the factory with your whole family, to learn how to make chocolate from me, and to look after it and the Oompa Loompa's when I'm no longer able to do so myself. Would you be willing to do that for me?"
Charlie still didn't speak, but he launched himself out of his chair and into Willy's arms in such a way that no one doubted what his answer was going to be. The force was enough that Willy rocked back a little, even as his arms closed round Charlie, holding him close. Thankfully the impact didn't send them sprawling onto the floor he thought irreverently, that would have been quite a position to end up in!
As he held the boy to him, gently rubbing his back, Willy had to smile. This had to be the best hug he had been given in years. Suddenly he pulled back, holding onto the boys shoulders to enable him to look in Charlie's eyes when he next spoke.
"But Charlie... Don't forget what happened to the man who suddenly found he had everything he ever wanted." He cautioned gently. Charlie didn't understand.
"What happened?" he queried curiously. Willy smiled at him, a wonderfully infectious smile. "He lived happily ever after." He responded.
Charlie made no response other than to lean back into the hug again and hold on as if he never wanted to let go, and the whole family realised, without him even saying a word, that they were going to be moving to a new home soon. A new phase of life was about to begin.