A.N. What do you know, it only takes a world-wide lockdown for me to start writing again!
Em could just about register that her hand was still in his, but she made no move to free it. She was thankful for his gloves, however, as the thought of her hand in his once again sent her palms sweating
She sensed Charlie's sudden shock morph into excitement, his voice breaking her reverie.
"Mr. Won-"
"Shh!" hissed Em, glaring down at her brother. "Don't attract their attention!" She nodded her head sharply back to the hoards of press, doubtful that they'd be able to hear them, but not willing to risk it.
"Oh!" gasped Charlie as he slapped his hand to his mouth in realisation, his wide eyes darting between Em and their saviour, "sorry," he whispered.
Em heard Mr. Wonka chuckle from beneath his scarf, a deep noise that made his shoulders shake slightly.
"No harm done," he winked at them and gave Em's hand a firm tug, leading them quickly away from the rabble.
Once they were out of sight of the factory gates, he spoke again, more freely this time.
"I thought it might be best if we came this way." He released Em's hand and removed his thick gloves, stuffing them into the pockets of his coat. "Your family have sparked quite a lot of interest today – more fun to keep the press on their toes."
"Fun?" queried Em. She could still hear the crowd of excited voices in the distance, the thought of having to deal with them far from her idea of fun.
"For me, at least," he winked, removing the scarf from across his face, revealing a cheeky smile. "Now! Shall we get out of here?"
Charlie nodded eagerly, looking around expectantly.
Em followed her brother's gaze, not really sure what they should be looking for. A hidden door in the wall perhaps? An underground tunnel? The siblings had explored every inch of the factory walls in their spare time, so she severely doubted they could have missed a secret entrance.
Her heart sank when Mr. Wonka appeared to open an invisible door mid-air, the hidden silhouette of an ominous looking glass box emerging before them.
"What the!?" gasped Charlie, the setting sun glinting ever so slightly off the elevator, revealing it's hiding spot to them.
"May I introduce my Great Glass Elevator!" Mr. Wonka announced proudly. "Alas, Ms. Bucket, I believe you've already had the pleasure?"
Em hummed in response, her stomach churning too much from the memory of her last trip for her to form any words.
"Nice!" said Charlie, stepping forward eagerly as Mr. Wonka beckoned him in.
Em followed reluctantly, shuddering as she heard the glass door close behind her.
"Now then," Mr. Wonka smiled excitedly, "where would you like to go?"
Charlie's eyes grew even wider as he took in all the buttons, which looked for all the world as though they were suspended in mid-air.
"We can go anywhere?!"
"Well, anywhere in the factory," corrected Mr. Wonka. "I've not quite perfected the blueprints for journeys further afield just yet." His eyebrows drew together, as if he was deep in thought.
"What's the 'Zing Room'?"
"Ah, fascinating choice!" Mr. Wonka's eyes lit up, his reverie broken. "Shall we?" His hand hovered temptingly over the button.
"Could I give this one a miss?" The words tumbled past Em's lips urgently, taking her companions, and herself, by surprise. "Long day at work is all," she forced her voice to sound more light-hearted, "don't think I'm up for an adventure today."
Truthfully, she wanted to spend as little time as possible in the flying death-trap.
"Aw Em, come on!" wined Charlie, tugging at her sleeve.
"Another day, Charlie, promise," she forced a smile, silently vowing to never step foot in the elevator again.
"Very well," Mr. Wonka's voice made her jump, "we'll make a quick stop first," he smiled politely at Em before pressing a different button, the label obscured by his hand.
"Hold on to something Charlie!" the two of them spoke together, seconds before Charlie went stumbling to the floor.
They shot up into the air, Em's stomach flipping over even though she'd been prepared for the sensation. She wedged herself once again into the corner and braced herself.
Charlie let out a whoop as he scrambled to get up, his hands grappling across the walls, nose pressed tightly against the glass as he peered out.
Em rolled her eyes at her brother's enthusiasm, directing her focus towards keeping upright. She watched as Mr. Wonka smiled at Charlie, chuckling to himself.
Em spotted the substantial crowd below them, unsure if they had spotted them in return; thankfully no one seemed to be looking skyward.
They began to hurtle sideways now, Charlie stumbling before regaining his balance, Em pressing herself more securely into her corner.
She noted, will slight annoyance, that Mr. Wonka seemed to have no issue holding himself up. He leant against the opposite wall causally, his arms folded across his chest, a smirk threatening to show itself on his lips as he watched as Em and Charlie were buffeted around by the elevator.
His expression turned instantly from smug to frustrated, however, and his eyes lingered in Em's direction. She caught his eye and he let out a puff of breath, his eyebrows drawn together.
"I feel almost certain I had something important to tell you, but I can't for the life of me think what it was."
"Dad always says that that means whatever you were going to say was a lie," chirped Charlie, helpfully.
"Is that so?" Mr. Wonka tilted his head, considering the statement. "Well I can assure you, dear Buckets, I would never tell a lie."
Em raised her eyebrow.
"To either of you, of course," he added slyly. He flashed Charlie a cheeky smile as the elevator, miraculously, began to slow down.
They seemed to be headed straight for one of the large chimney stacks atop the factory. Em wondered if a secret entrance was going to open up and accommodate the elevator, but instead it rose gently up alongside the chimney, slowly enough that Em could actually enjoy the view of their small town, before descending into the darkness as they entered through the top of the largest chimney.
The stood in silence for a few seconds, Em shaking some feeling back into her tense legs. When they emerged into the light, Em felt a slight heat rise to her cheeks as she glanced at Mr. Wonka.
In the darkness he had removed his large coat and was now wearing just a simple dress shirt tucked neatly into his trousers, beneath a purple, paisley patterned vest. He'd rolled the sleeves of the shirt up past his elbows, and his collar was unbuttoned lazily. His narrow frame was still leaning casually against the elevator wall, his coat now draped over his arm.
Em looked away before she could get caught staring, swallowing reflexively and urging her cheeks to cool down. So what if he dressed well? Plenty of people did. It was his clothes that were appealing, not him, she tried to convince herself.
They came to a gentle stop and the elevator doors opened with a ping. Em hurried forward, eager to leave the two of them in peace.
"See you later, Charlie," she smiled as she passed her brother. She turned to Mr. Wonka. "Have fun!"
"We'll certainly try," he smiled back at her before holding out his arms, "and I'm ever so sorry to ask, but would you mind taking these?"
He held out his coat and scarf hopefully, Em reaching for them reflexively. She held the garments tentatively, trying to ignore the warmth still emanating from them.
Mr. Wonka smiled in appreciation.
"Thank you so much, just pop them down anywhere and I'll grab them when we're done."
She unknowingly clutched them closer to her at the thought of the warmth being taken away.
The elevator doors closed once again, and Charlie gave her a big grin and a wave. Mr Wonka smiled also, although it didn't seem to quite reach his eyes, but the pair were disappearing back up the chimney chute before she could be sure.
She clutched the coat tight to her chest as she observed where the elevator had deposited her.
She was in a wide, carpeted corridor, the floor soft and spongy underneath her feet. The high ceiling and walls were painted a pleasant yellow colour, with two circular windows dotted at each end, allowing the last of the setting sun to stream in. There were also several doors along the wall, each varying in size.
At one end of the corridor there was an archway with a set of spiral stairs disappearing upwards, and at the other end she spotted a pair of glass doors, through which she could see a table and chairs.
She headed towards the glass doors, eager to sit down. Despite using her 'long day at work' excuse simply as a means to get out of the elevator, she was actually quite exhausted.
One of the other doors, however, caught her eye and she paused to investigate.
The frame was a little shorter than her, she would need to bend if she wanted to enter, and a small golden plaque on the door was printed with the name 'E. Bucket'.
She frowned, giving the door handle an experimental push. The lock clicked and the door opened smoothly, revealing the most beautiful room she had ever seen.
She stepped inside apprehensively, her frown softening into a smile as she looked around.
The walls were painted a delicate sky blue, and the carpet looked like soft cotton clouds, plush underfoot.
She absentmindedly lifted a hand and ran it tentatively across the wall, her fingers tracing atop delicate swirls of gold winding their way across the expanse of blue, making the walls glitter if she looked at them just right.
She stared for a moment at the branches of gold, convinced they were moving – she wouldn't put it past the factory – but instead decided it must have been a trick of the light.
A large, velvet cream sleigh bed sat at the opposite end of the room, piled high with pillows and soft looking blankets and an intricately patterned duvet that looked like it would swallow Em whole.
A maple-wood table sat on one side of the bed, the lamp perched atop it already lighting up the room with a gentle glow. A narrow, gold ladder rested against the wall on the other side of the bed – Em's eyes followed it up to a large, circular window, set into a small alcove, which was letting the evening sun stream in. More cushions and blankets lined the alcove, creating an inviting place to sit and read a book, or perhaps just watch the world go by.
Heavy sapphire curtains framed the window and fell all the way to the floor, a golden pull rope hanging just next to the lamp, should someone want to close them.
She eyed the spot longingly.
A writing desk to match the maple-wood table stood proudly at the end of the bed, a squishy looking chair tucked neatly beneath, with a matching wardrobe and mirror off to the side.
Another door caught her attention and she started forward to explore further, all inhibitions about intruding dissipating. She realised she was still hugging Mr Wonka's possessions tightly to her chest, so she relaxed her hold and glanced around, looking for somewhere to place them down.
She spotted a chest of drawers, the design matching that of the wardrobe, with a small purple envelope sitting innocently on top.
She picked it up with intrigue and saw it was simply labelled 'Em'. She opened it cautiously and pulled out a short, handwritten note.
My Dear Ms. Bucket.
I do hope you find everything to your liking.
Please don't hesitate to make any changes – a bedroom is a very personal thing!
My Oompa Loompas are always looking for new projects, so be sure to let them know if you want to redecorate.
W.
P.S. I thought you might enjoy the view from the window.
Em gazed at the note in her hand, re-reading it to be sure.
Make any changes? Redecorate? Surely this room couldn't be hers? It was bigger than their house, and she certainly didn't need all this space to herself!
A knock at the door made her jump, and she placed Mr. Wonka's clothing down on top of the chest of drawers, the note still clutched in her hand; the idea of the chocolatier writing her a handwritten note made her heart flutter, more than she cared to admit.
She padded quickly over to the door and opened it, the warm feeling that had settled in the pit of her stomach instantly replaced by cold, creeping tendrils of fear.
The man in the small doorway stared at her - his glasses were gone, but there was no mistaking those cold, beady eyes.
His mouth turned up into a sinister grin as recognition sparked for both of them.
He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could threaten her, Em slammed the door in his face, her heart beating wildly in her chest. She glanced around for something to use as a weapon, her shaking hands settling for a large glass vase. She dropped the note to the floor and backed away from the door as he knocked again, his voice calling to her through the wood. Em couldn't help but notice it sounded different to that day she'd heard it in the alley, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it.
All she could focus on was trying to keep that door closed - it was the only thing that stood between her and Mr. Wonka's nemesis.
Slugworth.
A.N. Thank you for reading, I can only apologise for what I think is a very weak chapter - it involved a lot of scene setting and I'm just not good a describing stuff like that! I hope you enjoyed nonetheless, and that everyone is keeping safe in these crazy times.
