Willy released his father's hand and sat down awkwardly opposite the old man. Neither said anything for a few moments as the Buckets took their seats. Willy looked at Mr and Mrs Bucket.
"So this is who you invited for dinner? When?"
"A few days ago. We thought it might be nice for the two of you to catch up." Mrs Bucket looked as though she could scarcely believe she'd just said those words, meeting Willy's eyes with an apologetic look. "It has been six months since you saw your father last," she added.
"And you do think about him every day," chipped in Mr Bucket.
"Yeah, well, there was no need to drag him away from work," muttered Willy quietly, looking quickly at his father then down at his napkin. His father reached over the table and touched Willy's hand softly.
"I can leave if you would rather I wasn't here," said Dr Wonka, looking at the top of his son's head as he spoke. Willy lifted his gaze from the napkin to meet his father's eyes. He looked at him for some time before answering.
"No. Please stay."
No-one spoke more than was absolutely necessary to be polite while they chose their starters and main courses. As a waitress brought over their drinks (wine for Mr and Mrs Bucket and Dr Wonka and orange juice for Willy and Charlie), Charlie asked Dr Wonka what it was like to be a dentist.
"It's fascinating work Charlie. Most of the time it's the usual grind of fillings, check-ups and tooth removal, but sometimes people come in for dental work to improve their teeth and that is where my interest lies."
"I know," mumbled Willy, clutching at his lower jaw.
"Do you know Charlie, in all my time as a dentist, I've never seen two people with the same teeth? Not even identical twins! It's ever so interesting – and it's amazing how well some people look after their teeth compared to others."
"Like some people floss and others don't," said Willy, rolling his eyes, "Fascinating," he added in a sarcastic tone. Dr Wonka ignored him.
"What's the grossest thing you've ever seen?" asked Charlie, trying to be polite but ultimately fascinated by anything gory.
"Well, there was one girl who ate nothing but candy and never brushed. She was about sixteen and her teeth were nearly all rotten – there was nothing to do but remove them and fit her with dentures. She had the most awful gum disease I've ever seen."
"Yeargh," gagged Willy, quickly drinking down some orange juice.
"Which was worse, the teeth or the gums?" asked Charlie.
"I think her breath was worse than both," chuckled Dr Wonka. Charlie and his parents laughed, but Willy turned a green colour and stood up. He quickly scanned the restaurant and walked stiffly towards the toilets. Charlie was half out of his seat when Dr Wonka stood and reached across Mrs Bucket to stop him. "I'll go," he said.
Willy held onto the basin in front of him. He hadn't been sick, but thought it was only a matter of time before he was. Thankfully, the restaurant was quiet tonight and there were only two other men in the toilets, both chatting about their respective wives and too absorbed in conversation to notice Willy much. He looked up into the mirror and swallowed.
"Hell," he whispered.
"What have I told you about mumbling?" boomed his father's voice.
"Not now!" said Willy, clutching his head. A hand on his arm stopped him continuing his rant. He looked around at Dr Wonka, who raised an inquisitive eyebrow at him.
"Pardon?"
"I didn't realise it was you. I thought…" I thought I was having a flashback about you, he added in his mind. Would it be so hard to explain to the old man that his words still haunted him even now? To his surprise, Dr Wonka took his son's hands into his own.
"I know what you thought. They told me."
"They promised they wouldn't!" exclaimed Willy, then thought about this. "Actually, no, they didn't. I never really brought up the topic of whether they were allowed to tell anyone."
"They are worried about you. And so am I. Shall we go back to the table? We can talk later. If you've recovered enough that is?" Dr Wonka looked at his son's face, which had paled even more at these words.
"I could do with some fresh air."
"I'll come with you." Dr Wonka led the way out of the toilets and through the back door of the restaurant onto the garden terrace, used for lunches during the day. The tables had all been stacked away for the night, so he and Willy sat on a low wall and looked out at the well-kept lawn and flower beds ahead.
"Thanks," said Willy. He was still having problems with this. Despite the fact his father had been overjoyed to see him six months ago, he still wasn't sure his father was genuinely happy to be there with him. He wondered whether Dr Wonka would approve of the chocolate room in his factory, given his memories of his father's hatred of candy. Then again, the old man had collected everything to do with his son's business – newspaper cuttings, chocolate bar wrappers (did he eat the chocolate? Willy wondered) and more besides. It was – nice – to be out here with his father, pretending like the last thirty eight years had been perfect. But the reality was that his father had always been too busy with his work or had simply not been there when Willy had needed him the most.
A few minutes later, Dr Wonka sighed and looked up at the stars. Willy followed his gaze.
"You know, your mother would have loved this view. She was ever so interested in astronomy."
"Was she?" asked Willy. He knew very little about his mother and did not remember her at all.
"That was her hobby. I remember buying her a telescope and taking her to the country at weekends so she could stargaze without the glare of the town lights. We would pitch a tent in the middle of nowhere, and I would sleep while she made observations." Dr Wonka misted a little and wiped his eyes. Willy looked away – the image of a young woman playing with a telescope while his father slept in a tent playing behind his eyes.
"I never knew."
"I should have told you. Of course, she rarely went out much in the nights after you were born."
"Sorry – I spoiled things for you both, didn't I?" blurted out Willy, biting his bottom lip. Dr Wonka carefully slipped an arm around Willy's shoulders.
"Not at all. We both agreed that you were the best thing to happen to us. And I still think that." He pulled Willy a little closer. Willy looked up and shook his head.
"No, you don't. You were always telling me how I was a disappointment to you and you were always telling me off and… you never talked about her!"
"How could I when every time I tried to tell you what she was like I'd look at you and see her eyes staring straight back at me?" Dr Wonka brushed Willy's hair out of his eyes with his free hand. "I may have been a little harsh on you Willy."
"You mean abandoning me aged fifteen wasn't part of your great 'let's turn Willy into a well-balanced individual' plan?" Willy shrugged himself free and glared menacingly at the ground. "It's your fault I'm a freak."
"You ran away," observed Dr Wonka, defensively.
"So did you! How did you move the house? Why did you move the house?"
"How do you think?"
"Did Mr Granger help?"
"Yes."
"Oh," said Willy, satisfied but still not happy about the answer. "Why did you leave me all alone?"
"I was angry Willy and did a stupid thing. I regretted it almost immediately, but when I went back to the street you'd gone. I searched for you for years and then one day I saw a chocolate shop. I couldn't see you inside, but your name was above the door. For days I wondered how to get in and see you, but then I realised you probably didn't want to see me and I left."
"I didn't know," said Willy in a small voice. "Every Christmas, I used to look out for you. I even used to decorate and cook dinner hoping you'd turn up. You never did."
"I used to do the same." Both Wonka men looked at the grass, weighing up all the times they could have made the effort to see each other and just hadn't been brave enough to do it. "Want to go inside?" asked Dr Wonka eventually.
"Yeah. Let's see what they've done to our starters."
The rest of the meal passed pleasantly enough. Charlie and his parents were stunned when Dr Wonka started to ask questions about Willy's career. He knew what had been in the papers over the years, but still insisted on a blow-by-blow account of everything that had happened to Willy. He sympathised with Willy's feelings of betrayal by his workers and to Charlie's amazement seemed fascinated by the idea of the chocolate room.
"An entire room that is edible?"
"Yes. Apart from Charlie's house of course. And his family," Willy giggled hysterically, then remembered himself and hid behind his glass. Dr Wonka gave Willy an encouraging smile and carried on talking to him.
"It's going rather well, isn't it?" whispered Mrs Bucket from her seat next to Dr Wonka to her husband, who was next to her.
"Yes. Hope this helps him fight his demons."
"Charlie dear, how did they get on last time?" Charlie got up from his seat next to Willy and leaned over to his parents.
"They didn't talk this much. They hugged – kind of – for a while then Willy read the wall of the surgery while Dr Wonka hung around in the background."
"Read the wall?" asked Mr Bucket slowly.
"Oh, Dr Wonka has newspaper clippings about Willy's chocolate business up there."
"Okay," said Mr Bucket. "Not quite as crazy as that could have been."
"Then they just looked at each other and Dr Wonka said that he'd missed Willy and was delighted he had the chance to say how proud he was of him."
"What did Willy say?" asked Mrs Bucket.
"Nothing. He just gave Dr Wonka a quick hug and ran out the door towards the elevator." Charlie shrugged and sat back down.
"Do you think Willy will be okay?" asked Mrs Bucket.
"Yes. I think. I don't know," replied her husband.
"That was an excellent meal!" exclaimed Dr Wonka. Willy nodded in agreement and sat back unsteadily. His father and the Buckets had encouraged him to try a wine spritzer with dessert and he was not sure that alcohol agreed with him. He was definitely not running at full efficiency. Reluctantly, the party got up to leave, Willy leaning on Charlie a little for support. Once Dr Wonka had cleared the bill, they waited outside for their respective taxis.
"Oh, here's ours," said Mr Bucket, clambering inside. Charlie and Mrs Bucket followed.
"It was – nice – to see you again, Dad," said Willy, once again feeling awkward now the time to say goodbye had arrived.
"Likewise," answered Dr Wonka. Willy turned to leave. "Wait – I have something for you." Dr Wonka reached into an inside pocket and pulled out a small photograph album. Willy took it and flipped through quickly. There was his father in his military uniform, looking stern and soldier-like. Then another picture of his father in his usual clothes, still not smiling. Willy flipped over again. There was a picture of his parents together, both smiling out of him through the black and white haze. Willy flipped through some more pictures until he found one of his mother holding a tiny infant up to the camera with a brilliant smile on her face. He noticed his father sitting next to her, smiling not at his wife this time but at the child.
"Is that me?" asked Willy, pointing to the baby and frowning at the scrunched up face.
"Yes." Willy pocketed the album and held out his hand. Dr Wonka took it and shook hands.
"Thanks," said Willy. He got into the taxi and sat back, watching as his father walked towards his own taxi. Their driver was about to leave when he shouted. "Stop!" Willy ran from the car and towards his father, hitting him at full speed and burying his head in his chest. Dr Wonka shook his head only slightly and ruffled Willy's hair, hugging him back before stepping back and getting into the taxi. Willy skipped back over and sat down next to Charlie. The driver set off.
"Did you have a nice time tonight Willy?" asked Charlie.
"I think I did. Did you know my father was going to be there?"
"No. Mum and Dad must have organised that."
"I expect so. Did you have a good time?"
"Yes." Charlie yawned and Willy gave him a quick hug, which was returned by Charlie. Over the top of Charlie's head, Willy looked at Mr and Mrs Bucket, who were still grinning nervously at him. Willy gave them a silent wink, grinned, and mouthed the words,
"Thank-you."
