Disclaimer: As per usual I do not own anything in here you recognise. Anything not belonging to Roald Dahl/Tim Burton etc is of my own devising.
A/N: Yes I know I'm obsessed. This is a new one but by no means have I given up on OneDepp or LittleShop. Just wanted to get this one started before someone else does the same idea (if they haven't already), which of course isn't apparent with only this chapter so you'll have to wait and see what this becomes hehe. Thought I'd try a different style more towards the thrillerish genre. Hope you like :)
The train squealed into the station, fluttering the hairs and clothes of the waiting crowd. A young man clad in a smart black suit flapped an urgent hand towards an equally young woman struggling to lift her rucksack across the platform, the wiry curls of her hair bouncing at her shoulders.
"Come on, Alice, hurry!" cried the suited boy. "We can get a seat with the tables!"
He dashed over to her and shouldered the hulking luggage, then grabbed her hand and pulled her with him into the carriage.
The girl known as Alice slumped into a seat as her boyfriend set about cramming her belongings into the overhead compartment. After numerous grunts of effort and a noise that sounded like something had broken, he clamped the compartment shut and dropped into a chair across the table from her.
"I still can't believe you're coming back to London with me," he beamed. For a lad of twenty, he still had most of his childish charm.
Alice smirked.
"If it's that hard to believe, I can just as soon get off at the next station and leave you to wonder. Anyway, what's with the posh get-up? Are you taking me out to dinner as soon as we get there or something?" She looked his ensemble up and down with interest. "'Cause if you are, you should've warned me. I wouldn't have worn white."
The young man smiled at his sweetheart playfully. Perhaps he should have warned her, but she'd looked too damn good in that blouse and skirt – the ones she'd altered herself to mimic spider-webs at the sleeves and hems. Besides, they'd hardly had enough time to pack from University before the train's arrival.
"Mum expects me to look smart when I come home. It's my own fault really, I inherited the whole suit thing from – well, I just picked it up somewhere. The white's fine, honestly. Just be careful where you walk when we get there."
The train moved off with a soft screech. Alice gave a small giggle as she took out a pack of Tarot from her handbag and shuffled through it without looking.
"I'll be all right, Char," she replied. "It's not like I expect the walls of the place to be entirely made out of chocolate or anything."
Charlie Bucket grinned. It wasn't any big secret that he had been the youngest heir to an immense confectionary goldmine. Every paper in England, nay the world, had splashed his name on the headlines for winning the extraordinary Golden Ticket competition just after his tenth birthday and inheriting the largest chocolate factory in history. It's a wonder I'm not a fat git like that Gloop boy, he had thought before the voice of his mother within scolded him for such abuse of language.
"Nah, you're probably expecting them to be made out of money," he chuckled.
His girlfriend's jaw dropped. So did her card deck.
"That hurt. You know I couldn't care less if you -."
"It was a joke, Alice," Charlie sighed, reaching out to help pick up the cards.
"Well it's not very funny," she said, slapping his hand away and retrieving them herself. "Anyway, forgiveness granted, I know who you were going to say you inherited the dress sense from. I'm only thankful you didn't go for the same haircut."
"Oh cheers," Charlie groaned. "I've tried discussing it with him but he's pretty stubborn about his looks. You better be nice to him at any rate. He's very sensitive sometimes."
Alice pouted mockingly as she shuffled the cards once more.
"I'm always nice. What would he do anyway? Set those odd little people who work for him on me?"
"No but trust me, you'd regret it. He can get really petty if you make a wrong impression first time."
Charlie watched with a minor fascination as his girlfriend cut the deck and dealt a pattern across the table. Her nail-bitten fingers tipped over the cards up and across the top and middle sections of a star, leaving only one unturned. They trembled from the vibrations of the train.
"What are you reading about this time?" he asked.
"Your family," she said, scanning the pictures for some inner meaning.
Charlie frowned. He didn't believe in the workings of the Tarot, but he was one of those people who easily changed their minds about what he believed, and quirky superstitions being cast about his own flesh and blood were some of the things that unnerved him the most.
"Oh? What does it say?"
"Hang on a sec," Alice answered. "It all rests on the final card really, but this is what I've got so far. Your mother's worried, probably hopes you'll have a safe journey I suppose, erm…" She squinted in concentration over the top row. "Oh I see travel in there, um, that's that path thingy there, new experiences that sort of thing…"
Charlie rolled his eyes.
"People travel all the time. Walking down the road is classed as travelling, and new experiences? Well we have those every day. Every minute if you take it literally."
Alice gave him a glare before continuing.
"There were some problems with someone young or the business…"
"That'll be me being away for so long," Charlie sniggered.
"I thought you didn't believe in this. You said it was rubbish," Alice said flatly.
"It is rubbish, but I'm not stopping you."
His girlfriend tutted and turned her attention to the bottom row.
"I don't remember that one…oh, this one's good but you shouldn't boast about it or something…some kind of sacrifice…"
"That'll be the roast chicken we'll have for dinner, I expect."
"Char, shut up or I won't show you the last card."
"Sorry."
Alice flipped it so only she could see it. She coughed and started to pack the cards away.
"So you're sure Mr Wonka won't mind me staying for the fortnight, then?" she said quickly.
"Of course I'm sure, he does know you're coming, so stop changing the subject and tell me what was on the card."
"It's not important -," Alice began as Charlie snatched the card from her hand before she could slide it into the pack.
The Grim Reaper stared him in the face.
"Oh," he said, simply. "That's…nice."
"It doesn't mean what you think," Alice mumbled, going a little pale.
He passed the card back to her.
"It's fine, really. I don't believe that stuff."
The young woman in white sighed and gave Death a fleeting glance before returning it to the box in which she kept her deck. A change was coming.