Em's nerves began to rise the moment the front door clicked shut behind them, the sound of the crowd and band disappearing instantly.
They were stood in what looked like a small waiting room. The room was brightly lit, despite the fact that there were no windows or lights to be seen, and the wallpaper resembled a sunny spring day. Across one side of the room there was a line of marble hands protruding from the wall, while the other was covered with a heavy, royal blue curtain that was pulled tightly closed. A grey door lay ahead, with a small number lock in its centre.
"Now, hats, coats, galoshes, over here." Mr. Wonka indicated to the ominous hands lining the wall. Em looked at them warily. "But hurry please, we have so much time and so little to see."
At this remark, the group looked around, confused. Em and Charlie exchanged quizzical looks as they waited for an explanation.
"Wait a minute…" Mr. Wonka paused, catching Em's eye as he grinned, realizing his mistake. "Strike that. Reverse it," he thought it through slowly in his head. "Thank you." Em was unaware she was grinning back.
"When do I get my chocolate?" growled Violet, her hand held out expectantly.
"First take off your coat, darling," her mother sang in an angelic voice. Em resisted a groan, why was this woman so perfect?
She watched as Mrs. Beauregarde struggled with her fur-lined coat, her eyes turning to daggers as Mr. Wonka offered his help, gently removing the offending item and motioning to hang it up.
She felt a gentle tap on her shoulder and looked down at Charlie, his arms outstretched expectantly.
"Cardigan, m'lady?"
She grinned, all thoughts of envy draining away as she crouched down and shrugged off her cardigan.
"Why thank you, kind sir." She gave a mock curtsy, which Charlie returned with an overzealous bow, causing her to giggle. She was too distracted to notice the chocolatier look sharply in their direction, intrigued and delighted at the noise.
"Boy, what weird looking coat hangers," stated Mike.
Em watched her brother reach up to one of the hands and jump back in fright as it formed a fist around their garments, holding them tight.
The room filled with shocked gasps and screams as all the items of clothing were snatched away, Em smiling in relief when she realized the trick.
"Little surprises around every corner, but nothing dangerous," assured Mr. Wonka. "Don't be alarmed."
Charlie returned to his sister's side and she gave him an encouraging smile. Mr. Wonka continued.
"As soon as your outer garments are in hand," he paused, giving them all a cheeky wink, "we'll begin. Now," he moved over to the heavy curtain, "will the children please step up here." He pulled back the curtain as all the children, except Charlie who stayed hesitantly by his sister's side, rushed forward towards a small podium, revealing the largest block of writing Em had ever seen. The writing started large and easy enough to read – it appeared to be a contract of some sort – but towards the bottom the writing became illegible, even too small for Charlie's young eyes.
"I can't see what it says at the bottom," moaned Violet, her eyes squinting.
"I didn't know we had to sign anything for this tour," fretted Mike's mother, Mrs. Teevee.
Mr. Wonka either didn't hear her or chose to ignore her, Em couldn't be sure.
"Violet? You first. Sign here," he indicated to a faint dotted line and handed her an extravagant silver quill.
"Hold it, Vi, before you sign anything." Violet's mother spoke up, taking Em by surprise. "What's all this about, Mr. Wonka?" she questioned sweetly, her full lips pouting ever so slightly.
"Standard form of contract," replied Mr. Wonka, smoothly, leaning back against the wall casually as a smirk played upon his lips. "You wouldn't begrudge me a little protection?" he asked innocently, working his charm as he folded his arms. Was he flirting with her? Em urged her jealousy away with a slight shake of her head.
Mrs. Beauregarde backed down instantly, clearly enjoying the attention. The others, however, were not fooled.
"My Veruca is not signing anything, Wonka," proclaimed Mr. Salt, his tone final.
"Then she ain't going in," Mr. Wonka answered, simply, drawing his gaze slowly from Violet's mother. "I'm sorry, rules of the house," he shrugged, unfazed.
"I want to go in, don't you dare stop me," Veruca hissed to her father.
"I'm only trying to help –"
"Gimme that," she barked, snatching the quill from Violet's hesitant hand. She glared at her father. "You're always making things difficult!"
"Nicely handled, Veruca," praised Mr. Wonka. "She's a girl who knows where she's going. Now, Augustus?"
"What's all that small print at the bottom?" quizzed Mr. Salt as Veruca returned to his side, reluctantly passing the quill to the large boy, a disgusted expression on her face.
"Oh," Mr. Wonka waved his hand lazily. "If you have any problems, please dial information, thank you for calling. Mike? Violet?"
"I assume there's an accident indemnity clause," voiced Mrs. Teevee.
"Never between friends," he quipped.
"Saw this in a movie once," spouted Mike. "Guy signed his wife's insurance policy, then he bumped her off."
"Clever," nodded Mr. Wonka, approvingly. Mike handed the quill to Violet and jumped down from the podium.
"What about me, Em?" whispered Charlie, unsure.
Em had absolutely no idea what any of these words meant. Frippery, Labor Unions, De Facto Habeas Corpus Laws, Accident Indemnity…
She shrugged, aware that Mr. Wonka was watching their small exchange.
"Sign away, Charlie, we've got nothing to lose," she shrugged. "Just promise me you won't die."
"Sure," nodded Charlie excitedly. He waited for Violet to finish then grabbed the quill.
"Let's go in, come on!" moaned Veruca as Charlie finished signing his name.
"Patience, patience, little dear. Everything has to be in order." Mr. Wonka accepted the quill from Charlie with a smile. "Everyone signed? Yes? Good, on we go!"
He strode over to the door with the number lock and began punching in numbers, mumbling to himself as he did so.
"I didn't know you had a signature," muttered Em quietly to Charlie as they waited.
"I don't really," admitted Charlie, "I just kind of wrote my name in really swirly letters."
"Fancy," laughed Em, a little louder than she intended. The group turned to look at the pair, Mr. Wonka looking up in surprise.
"Well I'm glad you think so, Ms. Bucket," he teased as the door clicked open. He pushed on the door and beckoned them in. "Just through the other door please."
There was a mad scramble forward as everyone rushed into the new room, Veruca elbowing her way through viciously. Em and Charlie hung back for fear of being hit.
"After you, m'lady," offered Mr. Wonka, tilting his hat to Em, a playful glint in his eyes. She smiled politely and ushered Charlie inside, determined not to fall for his charm. Mr. Wonka followed closely behind and closed the door. It was at this moment Em realised all was not as it seemed.
"There is no other door!" yelled Mike from amidst a crown of bodies. They were squished like sardines in a tiny room, the four walls boxing them in.
"There's no way out!" screeched Veruca. Em felt her breathing quicken and she tried not to panic as she was jostled away form Charlie and into the crowd of bodies.
"Well I know there's a door here someplace," she heard Mr. Wonka muse calmly from across the room.
"Is this a trick or something, Wonka?" demanded Mr. Salt as he was slammed into one of the walls.
Em spotted Mr. Wonka feeling his way along the walls, apparently searching for a non-existent door. She trod on someone's foot and heard a squeal, but couldn't find the breath to apologise.
"Help! Mr. Wonka, help! I'm getting squished!" squealed Mrs. Gloop as she shoved into Em. "Save me!"
Em shot forwards through a gap, stumbling into something warm and velvety. She looked up and felt her eyes widen in embarrassment as they met a mischievous blue pair.
"Please forgive me," he smiled, his presence calming her momentarily. He steadied her with his hands and curved his arm around her side to feel the wall behind her, his other hand lingering on her elbow. She happened to catch Charlie's eye across the room and he waggled his eyebrows, teasingly.
"Now, look here Wonka," Em heard Mrs. Teevee yelp.
"Excuse me," Mr. Wonka drew back from Em, his arm firmly on the wall behind her, "question time will come at the end of the session. We must press on." He raised his voice above all the commotion, dropping his arm and brushing past Em, feeling his way along the final wall. She watched with a slight smirk as Mrs. Beauregarde threw herself at him, only to smack into the wall as he nimbly dodged her flailing body.
"Come along, come along," he muttered, "ah, here we are!" He stopped in front of the door they had all entered through, looking pleased with himself.
"Don't be a fool, Wonka; that's the way we came in," cried Mr. Salt, angrily.
"It is? Are you sure?" he questioned, bemused.
"We've just come through there," stated Mrs. Beauregarde as she tried to tame her ruffled hair.
"Huh," Mr. Wonka shrugged, unconvinced. "How d'you like that?" He leant against the door casually and it swung open, revealing a long hallway dotted with doors on either side.
The group let out an involuntary gasp.
"What is this, Wonka? Some kind of fun house?" quipped Mr. Salt, sarcastically.
"Why?" Mr. Wonka cocked his head, "having fun?"
"We're getting out of here, Mike," Mrs. Teevee began.
"Oh, you can't get out backwards. You've gotta go forwards to get back," explained Mr. Wonka. "Better press on."
He made his way down the hall and the group had no choice but to follow. They spilled out of the tiny room, Em relieved to be back out in the open and reunited with her brother.
"Oh, Mr. Wonka, please save me," he simpered in a high-pitched voice as they walked at the back of the group, grinning as she growled at him to shut up. "I'm trapped, oh save me, save me!" he whimpered pathetically.
"Shut it," she hissed, marching ahead as her brother collapsed into fits of laughter.
The further she marched, Em noted, the bigger she seemed to feel.
"The room's getting smaller!" worked out Charlie as they continued forward, having sobered from his laughing fit.
"No, it's not," challenged Mrs. Beauregarde, "we're getting bigger."
"Where's the chocolate," lamented Mike.
"I doubt if there is any," muttered Mrs. Teevee sarcastically.
"I doubt if any of us will get out of here alive," hissed Mr. Salt.
"Oh," Mr. Wonka stopped suddenly, "you should never, never doubt what nobody is sure about," he remarked, profoundly.
They'd reached a very small door at the end of the corridor, barely big enough to fit a fist through. Em crouched next to Charlie, their heads brushing against the ceiling.
"You're not squeezing me through that tiny door," wailed a scared Mrs. Gloop.
"You're off your nut, Wonka," chastised Mr. Salt. "No one can get through there."
"My dear friends," he said with a glint in his eye, "you are now about to enter the nerve center of the entire Wonka Factory. Inside this room, all of my dreams become realities. And some of my realities become dreams." Charlie looked at Em in awe. Mr. Wonka continued, "and almost everything you will see is eatible. Edible," he corrected himself, pausing, "I mean, you can eat almost everything."
"Let me in I'm starving!" begged Augustus.
"Now, don't get overexcited! Don't lose your head, Augustus!" tutted Mr. Wonka. "We wouldn't want anyone to lose that!" he paused again, "yet…" He gave them all a quick smile. "Now, the combination."
A tiny piano appeared at the base of the door.
"This is a musical lock," he explained, reaching down and playing the opening to 'The Marriage of Figaro'.
"Rachmaninoff," announced Mrs. Teevee, approvingly.
"Mozart," whispered Em, so only Charlie could hear, though she could have sworn she saw Mr. Wonka smile ever so slightly as he played.
"Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls…" Mr. Wonka finished the tune with a flourish and pushed the tiny door open, the rest of the wall moving with it. "The Chocolate Room."
Em's jaw dropped.