A/N: Response time!
Gs33022, thank you for the backstory's compliment! One never knows when specific details may relate to an author, so it seems to be a trivia-filled world, in that case! I actually still have yet to read "A Box of Chocolates", so the description of the Loompaland village was completely coincidental. I just figured that it most likely would look like the Loompaland described canonically. I guess people with similar interests think alike.
A full week passed, and it was Saturday again. Violet managed to avoid any sort of trouble all week (admittedly by having gum in her mouth for only smaller increments of time while at school), and Friday's shift with Bill went by without incident. The same could be said for the shift she finished on the weekend. She had seen Charlie hanging out by the factory's gates a few times and most certainly spotted him outside the candy store after school on Friday, but none of these instances affected Violet in any way. She just concluded that he must have been fascinated by candy but never ate it for some reason. It probably had nothing to do with her. After all, nobody actually could see her inside the factory from the spot where Charlie was always watching, and the fact that he was olfactorily more interested in the surrounding aroma made it clear to her that he was into merely the chocolate.
Due to timing on Saturday, however, fate had it that she crossed paths with him again. Her shift ended, and, just like the previous Saturday, Charlie was right at the window of the shop.
Violet tried to ignore his presence. She just walked past him and headed away from the building. Despite her disinterest, Charlie stopped her anyway.
"Hi!" he greeted as he turned in her direction.
Violet stopped and turned. "You again?"
"Yeah, it occurred to me last week that you said that you just got transferred to this area. I figured that you might benefit from being greeted by a familiar face."
"Where's the logic in that?" Violet asked.
"Well, it seemed to me that if you were new around here, then you probably didn't know anybody and would have a harder time getting settled. Knowing at least one local probably could help."
"What about your own friends you have already? Can't you get busy with them?"
Charlie was silent for a moment. Finally, he answered, "I actually have trouble making them myself. I go to school with people, and a few actually have stuck by my side, but…you know…it's complicated. Social classes are such a pain."
Violet took notice of Charlie's last statement and took a moment to reflect on the cheap outfit, consisting of a simple long-sleeved shirt and patched slacks, that he had on this time. Social classes? Yeah, it's what I thought. This kid's poor and embarrassed to admit it. Ew. She wrinkled her nose, but Charlie had no idea what she was thinking.
"What did you say your name was again? Vivian?" Charlie suddenly asked politely before Violet could start to sneak away.
"Violet. I have to get going."
"Oh, that's right. Like the color, I guess."
"Or the flower!" Violet added rapidly, remembering what color her normally reddish-pink stripe had been last week when she was a blueberry. It was all gone now, though.
"True. I have to get going, too," said Charlie. "Mr. Jopeck's waiting with the newspapers. Bye!" He walked over to the newspaper stand near the candy store, just as he had done last Saturday.
Violet opened her handbag and rooted around to count the money she had pooled up in it. Figuring the amount to be adequate, she decided that now was a good time to call home again.
...
"Operator, I'd like to place a long-distance call to Montana," Violet said into the receiver. She already had paid to get the telephone to activate once she got into the large booth, so she hoped that the extra charge would be affordable still.
"Okay, ma'am. In which part of the state do you wish to place the call?" the operator responded in a rich British accent. Violet couldn't tell if it was Yorkshire or Cockney.
"Miles City. Specifically, I want the South Cottage Grove neighborhood."
"Thank you, ma'am. Please hold while I find the connection."
Violet waited for a few seconds, listening to the "ringy-dingy" sound effect in the meantime.
"Please identify the party you are trying to reach," the operator continued.
"Beauregarde," Violet answered. "B-E-A-U-R-E-G-A-R-D-E."
"Thank you, ma'am. Please deposit 60p for ten minutes. We're taking new pence only."
Violet fiddled with the notes and coins she had available. Fortunately, all of them were post-decimal, due to arriving in the country after Decimal Day. She lifted up one coin and examined it. Was this 60p? No, it was a 10-pence piece. Then she remembered that there were no such things as 60-pence pieces and quickly found a 50p coin as well, shoving them into the telephone in quick succession.
The sound effect of the switchboard's dial tone resumed for a bit. Then, there was a moment of silence. Suddenly, Violet got an earful of a fast-talking, familiar voice.
"Hello, there! Sam Beauregarde on the line; I am not currently at work, but the next time you're in Miles City, don't forget to check out Beauregarde's Auto Mart for the best deals on the latest sedans, convertibles, and more! The finest deals in the whole of America! With Sam B., it's a guarantee! Now, you'll really be bound to love our latest prices, as they—"
Violet was mortified. "For heaven's sakes, cool it, Dad! It's your daughter!" she interrupted.
"Oh, sorry about that, sweetie!" Sam responded, somewhat embarrassed. "I thought you were a potential customer calling about the business."
"Of course, you did. Dad, you're not even at work."
"I know, Violet. It's just that I sometimes get plug opportunities. You know, someone really ought to invent a telephone with some kind of device that lets you know who's calling."
Violet had had to get used to her dad's habit of trying to advertise his car lot to complete strangers whenever possible. It was annoying, and she wished that it would stop.
"Speaking of jobs, Dad," Violet continued, "I actually got one myself last week."
"Say what?" Sam replied, surprised and excited.
"Yeah, there's a candy store within walking distance of the factory. I'm just helping to restock the shelves and sweep its one storeroom. It's one of those last few tiny shops where the owner still stands behind the counter and hands your requests to you."
"Is there any particular reason you're doing this?"
"I just needed money. Mr. Wonka wouldn't let me borrow any. I think I'm holding up so far. I'm doing Fridays in the late afternoon and Saturdays in the mid-afternoon, and nothing has been the matter with clashing into the evenings yet, fingers crossed." Violet was too embarrassed to admit that she was at the shop in the first place because she was very foolish with her money, but she thought to add, "There's lots of gum there, too!" She paused to play with her gum for a moment, wrapping it around one finger and pulling while keeping it bitten down.
"I see," said Sam. "How's the attempt for the world record?"
Violet started for a moment. "I don't have it anymore," she answered nervously.
"Oh, really? What happened to it?"
"It just—well, let's just say that I got rid of it. School wasn't really kind towards it." Of course, she didn't throw it out by choice, but Violet felt that ambiguity was best here.
"That's a shame," Sam lamented. "Have you met anybody yet?"
"Well, nobody actually has offered to chat with me outside of school. I don't know what the deal is." Well, there was the paperboy, but to her, he didn't count. He wasn't the right standing.
"It might just be time, then. You haven't been there long."
Violet had a hunch that it had been almost ten minutes by now, so she changed the subject quickly. "Say, is Mother available to come to the phone right now?"
"No, she's at a ladies' breakfast with some friends at the Chinese restaurant in town. I can tell you when she comes home that you called, and I'll pass on what you told me."
"Okay, then. Thank you, Dad. Bye!" Violet was in the nick of time, as right as she said this, the signal cut off automatically, due to the ten minutes for which she had paid being up.
Violet hung up the receiver and left the telephone booth. As she stepped back onto the sidewalk, she could see Charlie running in the distance. He appeared to have finished with his paper route, as they all were depleted from his sack, and he was running towards the alleyway Violet had seen last week. She couldn't see its tunnel due to it being positioned around a corner, but she had seen that area and knew that there were no other places but the tunnel where he possibly could be running. Either he actually lived in that area, or he had to cut through there as part of the route for some reason despite running out of newspapers. Either way, Violet had no interest in going back there.
She headed back to Mr. Wonka's factory, did the usual routine of looking around, unlocking the gates, entering the courtyard, and relocking the gates, and soon was back in the building.
A/N: This might be the last chapter you'll see for a while. I have to head back to college later this week (and it is a LONG drive; enough to take up an entire weekend, at least), and then I will have to get my stored belongings sorted out at a relative's place over the next week (a completely unavoidable task) before moving into and semi-furnishing my dormitory. Due to the state's COVID-19 guidelines and the fact that said relative is an at-risk senior citizen, this process is going to be more complicated and lengthy than usual. Once my classes start, I should be settled, but assignments probably will be taking up a significant amount of time. I will have weekends free, probably, but I'll have to play it by ear. If I can get this fic back on track soon, great!
