Five minutes.

Em couldn't help the laugh that escaped her lips as her younger brother bounced from bed to bed in their small room, his arms flailing dramatically as he flew through the air, the bed springs creaking ominously with each bounce.

"This is no laughing matter my young apprentice!" he howled, mid-air, "these marshmallows are far too bouncy, I fear I shall be stuck up here forever!"

"Oh Mr. Wonka what can I do?!" she cried dramatically, jumping into action once again. "I can't catch you!"

"Quick! The Forever Fudge! Spread it on the marshmallows and it may stick to my feet!"

"Right away!" Em clambered onto her bed, bouncing around along with her brother. "Oh no Mr. Wonka, I've started bouncing too! What will we do now?!"

"We must hope that one of my workers comes to investigate. I am the owner of the world's most famous chocolate factory after all! Someone's bound to notice I'm missing sooner or later!"

As if on cue their bedroom door swung open, Charlie hurtling headfirst onto his own bed and collapsing into a heap.

"What have I told you about jumping on your beds? Off! Now!"

"Mum! They're not beds! They're marshmallows!" wined Charlie, lifting his head up from his thinning duvet in protest. Em clambered down from her own bed, slightly breathless from the bouncing.

"Of course, how silly of me." Their mother shook her head tediously. "Didn't anyone ever tell you not to play with your food? Get down now before you break something." She waved her hands, shooing Charlie off his bed. "Don't you have homework you should be doing?"

"Aw mum!"

"Homework first, then you can get back to running your chocolate factory, minus the bouncing," she warned. Her overworked eyes settled on Em as Charlie whined. "Em, can you come help me with dinner?"

"Sure," smiled Em. She knew better than to jump on the beds, but she'd had such a long day at work she'd wanted to pretend she was a child again, just for a little while.

Four minutes.

"Cabbage again?" croaked Grandpa George as Em searched through their cutlery drawer for a sharp knife.

"Nothing but the best for you, dad." Em heard the tiredness in her mother's voice and frowned, turning around to face her mother.

"If you'd just let me work some extra hours mum, I really don't mind. We might be able to afford something more than just cabbage."

"Oh Emily, don't be silly," sighed her mother, a weary smile lighting up her face. "You've got your whole life ahead of you, you don't need to spend every hour of it stuck in work. And besides, we don't mind cabbage, do we?" Her mother shot Grandpa George a stern look and he pulled the covers up to his chin.

"Of course not, sorry. Tastiest thing around."

Em smiled to herself and set to work on the cabbage whilst her mum brought a pot of water to the boil.

"How was work, Emily?" questioned Grandma Josephine, Grandpa Joe snoring loudly next to her.

"Very good thank you," she nodded. "Nothing exciting to report."

"No sign of that Mr. Wonka yet then?"

"Don't be silly," chastised her mother from the stove. "Nobody's seen him in years."

"A girl can dream," huffed Grandma Josephine as she eyed her husband warily. Em laughed.

She'd started working at the Candy Store two years ago, as soon as she'd finished school. She had been delighted when Bill offered her the position; her and Charlie frequented the shop after school, despite not being able to buy anything – they simply enjoyed looking at all the Wonka merchandise, and the shop had a faint smell of chocolate that could make even the sternest of mouths water.

In those two years, however, she'd never laid eyes on the elusive Mr. Wonka, despite the fact that pretty much all of their stock came from his factory. She'd often daydreamed about what he looked like and what kind of man he was, though she'd never admit it to anyone.

"Maybe one day," sighed Em as she scraped the remains of unusable cabbage into the bin, her stomach fluttering slightly, the sensation foreign. She shook her head absentmindedly - clearly she was just hungry.

Three minutes.

"Evening Buckets!"

"Evening Nathan," the house chorused.

"Evening dad," responded Em and Charlie from the small dining table.

Em smiled at her dad as he tugged off his coat, Charlie looking up enthusiastically from his homework, glad of an excuse to stop working.

"Good day at work, love?" asked their mother, popping an absentminded kiss on her husband's rosy cheek.

"Nothing exciting to report," he shrugged, hanging his coat up neatly.

"Can we go look at the factory now?" asked Charlie, pushing himself away from the table, homework evidently forgotten.

"Not tonight, Charlie," their father shook his head. "It's getting cold now, we need to get you a thicker coat."

"Oh, but dad!" whined Charlie, "pleeeeeease!" he begged, his voice grating on Em's ears.

"Homework," ordered Mrs. Bucket.

"But I'm practically finished! Please! Em could take me, and - and I could wear dad's coat!" he gestured, looking to Em for support.

Em glanced at her mother casually.

"I don't mind taking him," she admitted, peering down at her own work. Pages of scribbled out sentences stared back at her.

She was trying – and failing, it felt like – to write a short story for a competition she'd read about in the newspaper, and perhaps a walk in the crisp evening air might help clear her head long enough to write a half decent paragraph.

"Go on then," nodded their mother hesitantly.

Charlie was halfway to the front door before she'd even finished speaking, snatching his father's coat and disappearing into its depths.

"Not too long please!" requested their father, as Em grabbed her own coat. They made their way out through the door, huddling together and disappearing into the darkness.

Two minutes.

"There! In the window – I'm sure I saw something that time."

Em followed her brother's pointed finger skeptically, her eyes squinting through the shadows. Streetlamps lit the path they had travelled on, but the factory lay in complete darkness, its windows black and empty.

"Nope, I don't see anything." She shook her head as Charlie sighed, his keen eyes scanning fruitlessly along the factory walls.

"But there has to be someone in there, the chocolate doesn't just make itself."

"Yes," nodded Em, "but I doubt there's anyone looking out through the windows at this time of night."

"You never know," huffed Charlie, tugging his father's oversized coat around his small frame. Em shuffled her feet, willing her cold toes to come back to life.

"C'mon, let's get home. We'll come have a look at the factory after school tomorrow, when it's actually light outside." She dug her hands deep into her pockets and headed down the deserted high street, her brother following slowly behind her.

"Do you reckon Mr. Wonka's even in there?"

Em was silent for a few seconds.

"Yes, I think so."

"Do you think he'll ever come to the Candy Store one day?" queried Charlie. "Imagine if he asked you to work in his factory!"

Em laughed.

"I can stack his chocolate bars, Charlie, I can't make them."

Charlie caught up to her and shrugged.

"I'm sure he would teach you first, and then you could teach me!" He let out an excited gasp. "We'd have enough chocolate to last us forever!"

Em's laughed again, her brother's imagination infectious, despite the biting cold.

"We could make different sweets for everyone," agreed Em, her brother grinning up at her.

"Ice cream that would never melt for mum!"

"Bootstraps made of liquorish for dad?"

"Bit boring, but we could make it work," grinned Charlie, nodding his head slowly.

"Alright Mr. Expert," goaded Em, playfully, "what would you make for me?"

Charlie paused thoughtfully, his breath billowing out in small puffs in the cold air.

"Chocolate truffles that would make you float!"

"Oh!" gasped Em, "that would be amazing."

"I am an expert after all," grinned Charlie as he ran ahead of Em. She laughed, glancing back at the factory before turning down the alley that lead to their house. As large and foreboding as the factory appeared, looming, seemingly abandoned, over their small town, there was definitely something magical about it.

One minute.

Em blinked into the darkness, her toes still cold despite her layers of socks and her old duvet.

"Charlie? You awake?"

"Yeah," her brother replied in a whisper.

She smiled.

It was nights like these - when she either had too many thoughts racing around in her head or their bedroom was too cold - that she was thankful she shared a room with her brother.

Usually, if she was awake, so was he, and they would try to send each other to sleep by making up stories, usually about their favourite chocolatier.

"What do you think Mr. Wonka's like?" she ventured.

"I think he's the cleverest person in the world," replied Charlie thoughtfully, "and the kindest. And I bet he's funny too."

"As funny as Grandpa Joe?" she giggled quietly

"Maybe not, but I bet they'd get on really well," amended Charlie. She heard him shift in his bed and she imagined him propping himself up on his elbows. "How do you think he comes up with his ideas?"

Em frowned into the darkness, thinking carefully.

"I bet he has a big notebook, full of drawings and inventions."

"Hey, Em?"

"Yeah, Charlie?"

"Em?"

"Hmm?"

"Em!"

Em snapped her head up, her foot tapping impulsively against the wooden floor of the Candy Store. She stopped and glanced around, her brother's smiling face coming into view.

"What were you daydreaming about?" he asked, his school satchel resting at his feet, a bobble hat pulled low over his ears.

"Daydreaming?" she queried, her thoughts melting away like a chocolate river. "Oh, I guess I was." She shook her head. "Nothing important I don't think, I was counting down the minutes until you arrived."

"Charlie!" Bill emerged from the store room, his arms outstretched and a smile on his face.

"Hey Bill," Charlie smiled politely back.

"Emily was telling me all about your grand prize. You're a lucky boy Charlie Bucket, and I can't think of anyone who deserves it more."

Em smiled kindly at Bill.

"We're just a little bit excited, aren't we Charlie?" Em joked.

She'd spent all day glancing at the clock, waiting for Charlie to appear after school. Since Mr. Wonka's offer last night, their grandparents and parents had spent the day moving into the factory – a simple task, Em imagined, as they had very few possessions to transport. Now Em and Charlie were about to head there themselves and she couldn't wait.

"I had the longest day, you wouldn't believe!" Charlie wailed.

Em and Bill laughed, Charlie frowning up at the pair.

"Well please, don't let me keep you," Bill held up his hands in surrender. Em grinned at him, untying her apron.

"You're sure you don't mind? I'm happy to stay an hour longer?"

"An hour?!" cried Charlie, his eyes wide.

"No Em, you go ahead," chuckled Bill. "The shop'll be fine without you."

"Thank you," she smiled, placing her apron neatly under the counter and giving her ponytail a gentle tug. "I'll be in bright and early in the morning!" she called over her shoulder, Charlie picking up his school bag eagerly.

"I'd expect nothing less!" Bill called back as the siblings left the shop, the bell atop the door jingling cheerfully.

Em had tried to prepare herself for what may be waiting for them at the factory gates; she doubted her family's transition into the factory had gone unnoticed. What she hadn't expected, however, was the sizable crowd of press, reporters and shoppers, all with their cameras at the ready, waiting to pounce at the factory gates, and if that wasn't enough, she could see the perfect curls of Mrs. Beauregard amongst the crowd, no doubt waiting to ambush them.

Em pulled Charlie into a small, bricked alcove as soon as she spotted the woman, her brother looking up at her worriedly.

"What do we do now?" he asked fretfully, sneaking a look at the horde.

"I don't know," she peered around the corner helplessly. "I guess we'll just have to walk through them?"

"If we can," Charlie replied apprehensively. "There's so many people!"

In all honesty, as much as she disliked large crowds, Em would have happily faced a stadium full of people rather than have to come face to face with Mrs. Beauregard again.

"C'mon," she sighed eventually, "let's just get it over with."

Em grabbed Charlie's hand and they began to march forward, her heart racing nervously.

The large group had yet to notice the approaching pair, but Em had a feeling it wouldn't be long until they were being barraged by flashing lights and raised voices, along with whatever Mrs. Beauregard had in store for them.

Her nervousness escalated to a panic, nonetheless, when she sensed someone approach her quickly from behind, a firm hand finding its way into hers.

She whirled around, attempting to pull her hand free from the stranger, Charlie looking up in confusion.

A stooped man in a large dark coat stared back at her, gripping her hand tightly. His face was obscured by a scarf and hat, but a pair of bright blue eyes shone out through the disguise, crinkling in the corners as he smiled.

"Excuse me, madam, but if you'd both follow me, I know a much better way into the factory."