A/N: It feels like I haven't updated for ages...which isn't true, right? Do you ever get that feeling when half of you thinks the week has gone really fast and the other half thinks it's gone on for eternity? If you don't, then I probably made no sense and I apologise; if you do, that's what keeps happening to me :).
Enough of this irrelevant nonsense, you want to read the story not my ramblings...
Chapter 11: The graveyard shift
Charlie and Willy Wonka worked all day trying to figure out what ingredient was the one that could have caused two perfectly healthy children to suddenly become so dreadfully ill. It was hard and tiring work. Charlie fell asleep inside an empty cardboard box sometime around midnight but Mr Wonka kept working. He organised the Oompa Loompas into shifts so they worked around the clock too. He could not sleep, he would not rest, until he had got to the bottom of this mystery and it would never, ever happen again.
Meanwhile, in the Bucket home, Mr and Mrs Bucket were beginning to worry about Charlie.
"I haven't seen him all day," said Mrs Bucket as she twisted her skirt in her lap.
"Me neither," said Mr Bucket who had not even changed out of his work clothes. A loud snore was Grandpa Joe's contribution. He had fallen asleep in his chair waiting for Charlie to come to bed. Mrs Bucket took hold of a blanket and draped it around him then she sat back down at the table and drummed her fingers soundlessly against the wood. Mr Bucket took the seat opposite her and they waited together in silence.
Charlie woke to find that he was scrunched uncomfortably somewhere which definitely was not his bed. Blearily, he peered out of his makeshift box bedroom and saw a familiar scarlet coloured back. His head was swimming with tiredness and he felt disorientated from waking somewhere he had not meant to sleep. All he wanted was for Mr Wonka to turn round, realise he was there and take him home but he appeared to be wholly engrossed in whatever he was doing. Charlie rolled up his sleeve to check his watch, half past two! He let a little moan escape him. Immediately Wonka span around, his bright eyes focusing instantly on Charlie.
"You're awake," he said somewhat unnecessarily. Charlie half crawled, half stumbled from his box.
"Oooh, Charlie, you don't look so hot," said Wonka almost taking a step backwards as if Charlie had something infectious.
"Mmmtired," murmered Charlie. He could barely keep his eyes open let alone speak.
"What?"
"I'm tired," repeated Charlie with a great effort at making his speech more clear.
"Oh," said Wonka, clearly he had not considered this a possible reason for Charlie's less than fully alert state. He consulted his pocket watch. "Oh!" He dropped the watch and whistled sharply. Four Oompa Loompas appeared, all of them looking a bit worse for wear too.
"I want you to take Charlie back home, he needs to get some sleep, kay?" The four Oompa Loompas crossed their arms and positioning themselves around Charlie they began to guide him into the elevator. Wonka watched him go and then turned back to the task at hand. Tiredness would not be an obstacle for him for quite some time.
"Charlie." A soft voice was calling his name, and someone was shaking him ever so gently by the shoulder but Charlie had only been asleep for ten minutes, he didn't want to get up again. He rolled over but the voice called his name again. "Charlie, you have to get up now. It's almost time for school." Charlie's lethargic mind struggled to comprehend what it was being told. School? Now? In the middle of the night! He opened his eyes and found himself looking at the wall. It was not dark any more, the room was filled with light; daylight! Charlie groaned.
Ten minutes later and Charlie was dressed, and at the breakfast table trying to force his cereal into his mouth. He did not even hear the knock at the door but Mrs Bucket, who also had dark circles around her eyes, walked over and opened it.
"Mr Wonka," she said as she tried to stifle a yawn herself, "Please come in." But Mr Wonka remained in the doorway. He had a newspaper twisted almost to the point of breaking in his gloved hands. Mrs Bucket bit her lip.
"Is there something else about…?" she began but she was not quite brave enough to finish the question.
"About how terrible my factory is?" Wonka supplied, a slight twitch betraying his true feelings all too well. "You…" His eyes had travelled past Mrs Bucket and into the room, settling in disgust upon Charlie's breakfast bowl. Before anyone could stop him he had strode over, snatched it up and poured the whole lot into the bin.
"Don't you know what's in breakfast cereal?" he enquired of the whole family. Charlie, who had been battling his way through the cereal anyway, was secretly quite glad to be rid of it. Wonka appeared to have forgotten what he had knocked on the door for; Charlie was beginning to wonder if he'd had a reason at all.
"Mr Wonka, did you find out what was wrong with your chocolate?" asked Grandma Josephine. Charlie winced. He knew Grandma Josephine had only been trying to take an interest but the way Wonka rounded on her told Charlie that he had not seen it that way.
"There is nothing wrong with my chocolate, my dear woman," he said coldly, "Nothing at all."
"But…" began Grandma Josephine but she fell silent at the look Mr Wonka gave her and returned to her knitting with an air of great concentration. Wonka looked around at everyone else as if daring them to say a word against his creations; Charlie could see that the paper in his hands was beginning to fray.
"Mr Wonka?"
"Yes Charlie?"
"May I see the newspaper?" Wonka looked at the paper in his hands and then, with a veiled sigh, handed it over. Charlie flicked through it. Products to be recalled; orders cancelled…there was no good news for Wonka Products. Charlie laid the paper down on the table.
"We'll figure something out, Mr Wonka," he said and everyone who heard him knew he believed it with all his heart. Wonka regarded Charlie approvingly. Mrs Bucket thought he was going to suggest Charlie stay and help him again so she decided to cut in before he could say a word.
"You had better get your school bag, Charlie, or you'll be late."
"Yes, mum." He hurried up the stairs to get his things. Mrs Bucket turned to Mr Wonka with a mind to ask if he wanted her to cook him anything but he was staring so avidly at the paper that she was afraid to disturb him. His purple gloved fingers were tracing the words.
"Have you noticed something?" asked Grandpa Joe. Wonka did not look up; he did not acknowledge Grandpa Joe at all so Grandpa Joe took matters into his own hands and moved to look over the chocolatier's shoulder.
The outlook may look bleak for Wonka's products but Rose's fudge sales have shot straight through the roof. Output has increased by 350, with sales experiencing a similar increase.
Grandpa Joe felt a distinct flush creeping up into his face. Grandma Josephine was not letting him forget the Rose's fudge incident and even without her near constant reminding he wasn't likely to forget it in a hurry. He was glad when Charlie reappeared at that moment to distract everyone, except Mr Wonka who appeared to be semi-possessed by the articles.
"Goodbye everyone," said Charlie just managing to stifle a yawn as he did so.
"Goodbye Charlie," said all the Buckets who were present. This seemed to jog Wonka back to the present.
"Oh," he said as if he was surprised to find himself in the middle of the Bucket home. He screwed up the paper somewhat viscously and threw it into the Bucket's kitchen bin. "I'll walk to the gate with you Charlie." Mrs Bucket glanced anxiously at the clock but said nothing, she trusted Charlie would make sure he got to school on time whether Mr Wonka was with him or not.
Charlie and Wonka walked silently through the factory, listening to the sounds of the machinery and the Oompa Loompas busy with their day's work. Charlie did not even think about how strange it was that Mr Wonka was accompanying him until they came to the side entrance door. He stopped before opening it, sure that Wonka would say goodbye, or whatever he wanted to say, and then turn back. They stood there for about a minute, Charlie waiting for Wonka to do something and Wonka apparently quite happy to rock on his heels. Finally, Charlie had to speak to avoid being late.
"Um…Mr Wonka? I'm going to school now." Mr Wonka smiled down at him.
"I know that Charlie." Charlie edged a little closer to the door hoping Wonka would get the message.
"I'm going to go now…" Wonka was watching him, still smiling softly as if Charlie was a very amusing toy he had just bought. Charlie pushed open the door.
"Ok," he said, "Goodby…"
"What do you mean goodbye?" asked Wonka. Charlie felt his heart sink a little, had he not made himself clear?
"I told you I would walk with you to the gate, didn't I? Didn't I?" Wonka was frowning, trying to remember what he had said not five minutes before.
"Oh, yes, you did say that!" said Charlie, "I just didn't think you'd actually…"
"Actually what?" asked Wonka plainly. Charlie was not sure what effect telling Mr Wonka that he had not really expected him to set foot outside would have so he covered it by pushing the door open and walking out. It was a cold day, and Charlie was glad of his coat, but the sun was trying to get through the scattered clouds. Mr Wonka gave it a brief look of disdain, he was definitely a winter person despite the warmer than average temperature inside the factory. Charlie felt his tiredness begin to fade as the fresh air filled his lungs although he was sure he would find getting through the day a struggle.
"Charlie?"
"Yes, Mr Wonka." This is what he had been waiting for, he was sure Mr Wonka had not just accompanied him because he fancied a walk. Wonka did not carry on speaking at once; he definitely seemed out of sorts when he was outside. When he did speak they were almost at the gate.
"You must keep your ears and eyes open, my dear boy. If you hear anything you think I ought to know you must tell me at once, kay?"
"Of course, Mr Wonka," said Charlie without really knowing what he was agreeing to or why. Wonka began to smile and then faltered, his eyes looking past Charlie and through the gates. Quite suddenly he took a step sideways so that he was entirely submerged in the shadow of his enormous factory. Charlie swallowed, and turned round, his stomach fluttering. He was not sure what he expected to see but a woman wrapped in an overlarge coat was not high on his list. She was looking at another part of the factory, her expression hidden by the brim of her pink hat. She turned her head, caught sight of Charlie, gasped and hurried away.
"Who was that?" asked both Charlie and Mr Wonka in unison then they looked at each other. Wonka was still hidden in shadow but Charlie could just about make out his expression, nervy yet indignant. Then Charlie remembered something, he had a dim memory of seeing that woman before.
"I bumped into her a little while ago," he said, "I'm sure it was her, she was outside the factory then too." That was the wrong thing to say. Wonka's eyes flashed with a fire Charlie had only ever seen smouldering there before. "I think she was only looking in out of interest," Charlie said quickly but his efforts to put out the flames seemed only to fan them. Charlie decided then that he would never tell Mr Wonka that he used to watch the factory through the gates all the time, breathing in the warm aroma of the chocolate before heading home for yet another meal of watery cabbage soup.
"I'd better go, Mr Wonka, or I'll be late." The fire in Wonka's bright eyes dimmed and he smiled but there was a noticeable lack of his usual delight.
"You have a good day, Charlie." It was an unusually solemn goodbye from the eccentric chocolatier and Charlie could not help wishing that Mr Wonka would say something unexpected or laugh at nothing at all.
"You too, Mr Wonka. I'll try and get back from school as quick as I can." Wonka felt a powerful twinge in the region of his heart. There was Charlie, desperately tired from staying up half the night helping him, off to deal with a whole day of school and still he was promising to come straight back and get stuck in once again. That Golden Ticket idea really had been genius. Wonka was so busy thinking this that he forgot about the mysterious woman looking through the gate for the moment, but certainly not forever.
Rose's head was spinning. She had not eaten properly all week and her sleep had been erratic at best. She had found herself outside Wonka's factory without knowing what she was doing. The last two days had been the hardest of all, what with fresh anti-Wonka articles pouring from every direction. Oh yes, it was true, her profits had soared beyond anything she could have imagined but so had her feelings of unease and being trapped. Mr Slugworth was playing a dangerous game, one that he might feel comfortable with but Rose felt like she was being pulled along so fast that the view either side of her was blurred. She wanted to return to the quiet life she had known and loved for so long. She wanted to make fudge in her own kitchen and package it in her own pink boxes and help load up the special pink truck that bore her name on the side. That world seemed a million years away. Rose's heart trembled as she thought that maybe it would never come again, maybe it was gone forever. She looked over her shoulder. There was no one there. She had been sure that the little boy would try to tail her or something, maybe he was…no, no, don't be ridiculous, he was probably just going to school like every other little boy his age. Only most little boys weren't apprentices to the evil corporation might of Mr Wonka. Once again Rose got a terrifying mental image of a huge, round man shouting at the kind, little boy who had apologised to her that one time. She saw the spit flying from his mouth and his face turning red, and then his face slowly morphed into that of Mr Slugworth's and she heard his voice, quiet and icy, "Together we will bring an end to Wonka and all he has created. It will be a new beginning, a new era for confectionery…and we will be the creators extraordinaire!" Rose shivered though her body's reaction had nothing to do with the cold outside. Oh, how she wished all of this would end. Unfortunately for Rose and for Wonka, it was not going to end any time soon.
A/N: I'm trying really, really hard to give this story the attention it deserves and so far I'm managing but please forgive any slow updates. Life is a greedy thing, it just has an insatiable appetite for my time. Anyway, thank you to everyone who is reading and to everyone who has been kind enough to review. I hope I can continue to keep you all entertained. :)
