Thanks once again to Linkwonka and Turrislucidus for the reviews. It seems the chapter did what it wanted to then Linkwonka... Turrislucidus... That review was immense. Thank you for taking the time to write it. You remind me that sometimes even the author themselves just doesn't have a clue what exists in their writing. You've stopped me in my tracks. Yup, the review has overwhelmed this story-teller!

Speaking of which, on with the story...

In case of need... The game 'pass the parcel' is a popular party game, where a group of people sit in a circle, and for as long as the music lasts, a well wrapped gift (with many layers of paper) is handed from one person to the next. If the music stops while you are holding it, you get to take a layer of the paper off. If your layer happens to be the last layer, you have 'won' whatever it is you discover beneath all the wrappings.

i'm not totally sure that I have Charlie as age appropriate as he could be here. If anyone wishes to pm me their thoughts as to this, that would be much appreciated. Thank you. Otherwise I shall take it that all is well! :-)

If you recognise it from elsewhere, it doesn't belong to me...


The welcoming party.

Charlie sighed as the door shut behind them, closing them out of Willy's suite, and into the sterile corridor. He felt as if he hadn't been given the time to bid Willy 'goodbye' in the way he had wanted to. But then, with the cool eyes of his mother resting on him, he wouldn't have felt comfortable treating the man in the way he wanted to anyway.

Willy had rested a warm hand on his shoulder for an instant, stated that he would see Charlie on Saturday, and had then bid them both good day. Somehow Charlie knew that the man was hurting. Hurting just as much as Charlie himself was. It didn't have to be like this. If only his Mom would accept that Charlie could be fond of other adults. But it seemed she couldn't. She had abandoned him, and now she was jealous of his affection.

Charlie snorted, if only she knew. If only she realised that the more she tried to cling onto him, the further he was now going to run. Then he mentally rolled his eyes at himself. He wasn't too sure about that when he thought about it further. He might feel like doing so just now, but really, given all that had been covered in the book Wonka was reading him, Charlie was also aware that this state of affairs might not last long. For all her faults, his Mom meant well.

Another instant went by without comment from the woman walking next to him. She seemed to be as absorbed in her thoughts as Charlie was his. Then she opened the door to their suite and ushered him inside.

There, right inside the hall, his four grandparents were awaiting them; looking so astonishingly like vultures that Charlie had to choke back a laugh, even as he eyed them warily. Charlie found himself instinctively backing away, before forcing himself to move forwards again, his Mom's hand on his back a firm reminder that this was where he was meant to be.

He swiftly concluded that he had been right to be wary, as first one grandparent, and then another, swooped down on him, and squashed him half to death. With each death-squeeze, Charlie grunted out a reluctant greeting to the offending person, suddenly feeling like he knew exactly how something used in the game 'pass the parcel' must feel, even as the elderlies insisted on passing him round a second time. Then, with Charlie finally free from the restraint and claustrophobia caused by other people's limbs, the group descended on the living area, where Charlie was expected to bring everyone up to date with all he had been doing. Great! He growsed to himself. Freed from physical chains, only to be tied down by mental ones. He wanted to flex his metaphorical wings, and gain true freedom from this caged in claustrophobia. Then he sighed. Right this moment, he didn't really have that option.

Not really wanting to talk about the time he had spent with Wonka recently, Charlie found that he was limited in what he could tell them. So much of that time felt private, personal. He didn't want to throw it open for general consumption.

Then, he remembered his thoughts about how if he wanted to change the nature of a relationship; he had to be willing to invest in it. It felt strange thinking that he actually had the power to decide what his relationships were like, but he had come to the conclusion the previous evening, that if he wanted his relationship with the people who had brought him up to change any, he should begin by making an effort with them. If that meant talking about things he would rather keep to himself, then that's what he would do. After all, he didn't have to share everything, just enough.

The thought had also occurred that he could turn the tables on them as well. He hadn't seen his grandparents in a while, so after giving them a few titbits of information, he could then ask them about what they had been up to. That way, he would be showing an interest in them, which would likely also go down well.

Charlie decided that he would tell them a little about the previous day, leaving out the fact Wonka had read to him. That part was special, something he wanted to keep between Willy and himself. He wasn't sure if his family would do so, but he wouldn't know how to decline an offer of something similar from his family, and one thing was for sure, he didn't want them to read to him! That was something special he shared with Wonka, and he wasn't up for anyone else doing the same. If they wanted something special that was something they shared with Charlie, they would have to come up with their own idea.

Grandpa Joe was incredibly interested in Wonkapoly, while, Charlie thought, Grandma Georgina smiled wickedly at his overwhelming excitement. Charlie had a sneaking suspicion that she had long known about the existence of Wonkapoly, and just hadn't bothered to mention it.

Charlie took a while to describe the game, and then made a fleeting reference to Sarach's illness. This immediately caught Grandma Josephine's attention, as she knew Sarach's family, and she started to ask questions about how the boy was, and how his family were doing.

Charlie was only able to say that he had been out for a walk with Willy on the Saturday afternoon, and that when they returned to the factory he had spotted Sarach. Taking a page from Willy's book, he crafted his words carefully, so that he had the adults hanging on his every word as he told them about the trip to the sick bay, and then to Sarach's family home.

Then, when he was running out of information he was willing to give them, he remembered his plan to get his family talking, and decided that it would be natural enough for him to ask his grandmother about how she knew Sarach's family.

This began what Charlie would come to think on as a 'free for all' session of words, where first one person, and then another, told him everything that they had been up to in the recent weeks. All that was required of Charlie was that he listened, and made appropriate noises of interest.

Even that much, eventually, began to become overwhelming, as he struggled to keep up with who had done what. Grandpa Joe was helping with the knitting group, while Grandma Georgina had been learning some interesting facts about how 'square candies that look round' were made. No! Mom had spent yesterday straightening out the figures of the book shop with one of the Oompa Loompa's. while Grandma Josephine helped at homework club, and Grandpa George helped at the games shop. No! That was why Grandma Georgina knew about Wonkapoly, of course, she was the one in the games shop, Grandpa Joe was learning about the candies, Mom was helping at homework club, Grandpa George was the one sorting out the figures, and Grandma Josephine was at the knitting group! And it was at the knitting group that Grandma Josephine had got to know Sarach's mother and aunts!

Charlie took a deep breath as he unravelled the threads of all of this assorted information.

Finally he was given a rest as a ding sounded through the suite. "Ah! That'll be lunch ready to come through. Would you set the table Charlie?" his Mom asked him.

Quickly Charlie moved to do as she bade him.

Soon the family were sitting companionably at the table, each supping on the soup provided with pleasure. Grandma Georgina had fallen into the habit of exclaiming with joy at just how lovely it was to have such a tasty meal, and this day was no different. The comment brought a pinched look to Ellie's face, despite her being fully aware that the comment wasn't personal. In her heart, she agreed that the flavour and texture of the soup made the meal incredibly satisfying. The knowledge didn't stop her from feeling like she had failed her family however.

Charlie took all of this in, as he silently consumed his own portion of the meal. Surprisingly, he discovered that he was still hungry by the time he had finished it, and soon found himself asking his Mom if he could have a little more.

Ellie looked up at him, with shock on her face. It wasn't all that long since Charlie had struggled to finish the portion she had given him. Now, his bowl was scraped clear, and he was asking for more? Charlie was about to apologise, when she waved him off, and quickly gave him another portion. This he ate most of, and was rather surprised when he didn't hear the now familiar tones of encouragement Wonka sent his way at the end of each meal, suggesting that he try to eat a little more. Charlie was unprepared for the wave of desolation that swept through him as he processed the lack. Of course he shouldn't expect that his family would do things Willy had done as a matter of course, but he would never have believed that it would be something so small that would rock the boat first.

Silently acknowledging to himself that he should make the attempt to have another mouthful or so, Charlie quickly realised that the surge of emotion he had just experienced would make it impossible for him to do so. His throat felt almost swollen, making it impossible to swallow. Then he glanced up, noticing that his family were now gazing at him in concern.

At a loss, Charlie shrugged his shoulders. Then his mind slowly caught up with him. "I'm sorry. I'm feeling a bit tired now. It's been a busy day for me. Is it alright if I go for a lie down?" the boy asked.

Faced with a direct question, his family could hardly object to this. Especially as his pale face reminded them that he wasn't all that long recovered from his illness. And, only that morning, Hansard had rather pointedly reminded them that there was a reason he had not cleared Charlie to return to school as yet.

As the door closed behind him, Charlie heard the murmur of his relatives starting to discuss him. Deciding that he really could not be bothered with their thoughts at this minute, Charlie quickly threw himself down on the bed. Then he felt the tears he had stifled earlier on in the day begin in earnest.

Charlie slept for a good few hours once the tears had stopped. When he woke, he felt a little better, although he admitted to himself that there was a part of him that was still feeling rather tender. Not knowing what else to do, he found himself getting up, and heading through to the family room.

As he entered, he heard his Mom, and Grandma Georgina talking in hushed voices. Suddenly his Mom looked up, and stopped mid-sentence. "Why Charlie! Hello sleepy head! How did you sleep?" she exclaimed.

Charlie smiled at her, and she frowned, noting his rather wan appearance. "Yeah. OK." He responded, moving over towards the sofa. "I woke up, but it feels like it has been a long day."

Ellie smiled, attempting to appear sympathetic. "I doubt you've dealt with so many people all at once for a while Charlie. It must have been rather overwhelming for you."

Charlie glanced at her, feeling rather more asleep than awake. Then he shrugged his shoulders again, before settling down in a corner of the couch.

Then, feeling particularly uncommunicative, he cast around himself. Suddenly he spotted a few books lying haphazardly on the table. Feigning an interest, he sorted through them. Nothing seemed spectacularly interesting, but he eventually pitched on one that would do to flip through. Really, he would have preferred to stay in his room, but he didn't quite feel comfortable after weeks of sleeping in Wonka's living space. Plus, he reasoned, he had returned to the family suite so that he spent time with them. If he spent the whole time hidden away in his room, he would never move past the initial awkwardness he was feeling now.

Ellie turned an affectionate glance on him once more, before continuing her discussion with her mother sotto voice, continuing to glance back at Charlie every few minutes, not really believing that he was actually back in the family home again.

After about twenty minutes, a slight movement from Charlie's corner of the room caught her eye, and she found herself chuckling, as he had fallen asleep again, book slipping out of his grasp to thud against the fibres of the couch next to him. Then she turned her attention back to what her mother was saying, not even thinking that it might be a good idea to shift Charlie around some. It didn't occur to her at that moment that such a sleeping position would surely lead to a stiff neck when he eventually woke up.

This was one of the many small things that Charlie would soon come to realise he hadn't even thought to realise the value of Wonka for. Things that seemed so tiny and insignificant. Things that Willy did so naturally. Things that his own family just didn't seem to grasp the importance of. Things that made Charlie long to be with Wonka even more.

By the time Charlie gradually became aware of his surroundings again, and the crick in his neck, his other three grandparents were back with them. Moving gingerly, Charlie barely suppressed a groan at the pain that shot up his neck. Grandpa George came forwards and, without addressing a word to the boy, piloted him over towards the table, where sat another meal.

The scent wafted tantalisingly over to Charlie, and he suddenly realised that he was indeed hungry again.

Throughout that meal, Charlie moved stiffly, and carefully, rather than in the free and easy fashion he was used to. Silently he vowed that if this was the result of sleeping in the living quarters, he wouldn't bother doing so again. He would sleep in his room and if it meant his family saw less of him, then so be it. He was not willing to put himself through such pain on a regular basis, just to spend a little more time with his family.

As Charlie slowly processed the fact that he had fallen asleep, and began eating, he became gradually aware of the chatter of everyone else around him. They seemed to have gelled together, into a unit which didn't really need him. Each were sharing key points from their day, and enjoying catching up with the others.

Due to his tiredness though, Charlie missed the times that Ellie's eyes came to linger on him, noting with a quiet amusement, how he seemed to struggle to actually manage to connect his hand, holding fork full of food, with his mouth. He got there, but it was slowly, and once or twice, he almost reached his cheek with the food, before it got to his mouth.

It was with a sigh of relief that Charlie noted, at the end of the meal, that his Mom was indicating he should retire for the night. As he submitted to 'goodnight' kisses from Ellie, and his four grandparents, he found something inside relaxing. He didn't have to deal with this situation any further tonight. He could take some time to himself, without feeling guilty. And that was OK.

Soon he was back in his bedroom, with the door closing behind him. Settling onto the bed, Charlie opened the backpack that Wonka had sent him home with. As he emptied things out of it, he suddenly noticed something that he had missed when he was packing the bag. There was a plastic bag hidden under all of the rest of his things. Taking it out, he noticed that it definitely had something in it.

Charlie began moving the recently scattered contents of the backpack into the places they belonged, then he opened the plastic bag. Right at the top, there was a handwritten letter.

Struggling a little with the scrawl, Charlie noted that Wonka was thanking him for his company, and that Willy hoped that Charlie would like the other contents of the bag. With a forlorn smile at the care Willy was showing him, finding ways to touch his heart from afar, Charlie went to put the letter in the same special place he had secreted the earlier letter, pausing to read over those familiar words as well, before returning to see what Willy had put into the bag.

The first discovery was a set of drawing and colouring implements, plus lots of paper. Then there was a dressing gown, something warm that he could wear if he chose to spend time in the living spaces without dressing first. A huge box of Wonka chocolates came out next. Charlie giggled at the idea of being given chocolates, while living in a chocolate factory. If there was anything that was freely available here, it was confectionary!

At the very bottom was a photograph. Charlie was sitting on Willy's lap, and the photographer had caught them looking towards each other, affectionate glances caught vividly by the camera. Charlie's breath caught. He'd never thought he would find himself looking at anything of the kind. As it was, he dissolved into tears for a few minutes. As much as he loved looking at the picture, Charlie didn't want to leave it lying out. This was another precious moment he didn't want to share with anyone, and he found himself putting it safely away with the letters that Willy had written him.

Each of the items had small notes attached to them, telling him why Willy had selected the item as something to go into the bag. These notes were also preserved in that special hideaway. His family had let him down so often, he didn't feel that this was any of their business.

Tidying the rest of his space away, so that it was as it should be, Charlie finally found himself ready for bed.

For all that he had spent much of the afternoon asleep, it had been an emotionally trying day, and Charlie was longing to lie down and forget about it all for the next little while. He put his head on the pillow, and within the space of a few minutes, sleep had claimed him. For the rest of the night, there was peace.