I do not own anything from Charlie and the Chocolate factory. All rights and likenesses belong to Roald Dahl, Johnny Depp and Tim Burton. No profit is being garnered from this work. Mr. Wonka wished to communicate his wish to be left alone to the press at large – three reporters attempted to break into the factory last night and…well, let's just say to avoid gummy candy for a while – especially the cherry. – Stealth Phoenix
Chapter 43
"This is Sleeza Hart reporting for Y! Television – your Celebrity fix. We're here live outside the Worthington Hall in London where the Cancer UK annual Charity auction is about to begin. Stars shine in the skies and on the red carpet this evening. Joining me is Victor Brahm, chef and caterer to the stars!"
The impossibly blonde woman in the sparkling blue dress and bright white smile turned the microphone to the tuxedo-clad man next to her. His wavy dark blond hair was casually tousled in an appealing way and his brown eyes sparkled with good humor.
"Victor! We hear that Miss O herself has invited you to do three more appearances on her show. As our viewers already know, your first appearance on her daytime television talk show earlier this week was a resounding hit. So you sense a series in the making?" Sleeza said, her lips barely moving from around her blinding smile held for the camera.
Victor laughed lightly, looking her in the eyes, "Sleeza! I'm thrilled that Miss O found my cooking so delicious she had to share it with the world. I'm honored that she has indeed invited me back for more appearances. As for the rumors about a show…well, who knows at this point? If we get enough requests, it might happen."
He was comfortable in front of the camera, occasionally waving at other people he knew from the A-List back in California, he knew this is where he belonged. He had worked for years to ensure that.
Miss O, satisfied with his personal performance on Christmas had invited him to prepare light, easy meals on television in front of her live audience. Other than having to ensure that the meals for the crowd were prepared ahead of time by his staff, he managed to pull off the performance of a lifetime.
Personally, he found the woman revolting and her coy little games more appropriate for a woman half her age. The power she held helped his flagging libido and he and focused on that rather than her physical charms (which were still flagging even after extensive visits to her plastic surgeon) to pass muster. He had to mentally replace her saggy body with one of his favorite fantasies – the one with the skinny woman with brown-red hair and sad hazel eyes who pleaded so prettily with him…
Miss O had been sated and he had played her game according to her rules and had won a prize. Victor had come back to London to work this specific event at the request of his patron…or would that be matron?
One reason alone drew him back to soggy old London - to get air time in front of the camera.
If he could generate some contact with some of this crappy human interest in Charity events, his fortune would be made.
The bright light was hot against his face, even with the sub-arctic winter night as they and the rest of the crowd of fans and media waited outside the hall, watching the glittering hoards arrive.
Whoops…almost lost his attention there…
"I wanted to personally make sure that the UK Cancer Research organization gets the full support of me and Miss O. After all isn't it the purpose of tonight to alleviate the suffering of others?" Sometimes he couldn't believe the crap pouring out of his mouth. Still, the camera loved him and he loved the opportunities presented to him with every appearance.
He joked lightly with Sleeza for a few minutes, commenting on past clients and some of the usual plugs for their recent movies or guest appearances, only to stutter to a stop as the camera dropped and the duo grabbed their ears to listen to what the producer was saying on the other end.
Without a word of explanation, the camera light died and Sleeza's attention dropped from him like yesterday's veggies.
Turning away from him she held a bracelet-laden arm up to her ear bud to listen hard for a moment, the smile dropping from her face, "What? Stan, are you sure? Here?!"
The woman whirled away and trotted on impossibly high heels without another word, the cameraman running after her toward the street. Victor stared in stunned disbelief, he'd just been ditched!
What the hell was going on to jerk the spotlight from him so suddenly?
Victor could sense that someone very important was arriving – the same way pack animals circled in on weakened prey. He made sure his hair was perfect in the window reflection, adjusting his tux and checking to make sure his breath was fresh. Whoever it was would have to pass right by him and he was already mentally trotting out a casual greeting to whoever was arriving.
Jumbled whispers raced through the crowd and in a moment, all attention was directed at the curb where a long purple limo with a stylized golden "W" was pulling up to the curb.
"Wonka!" Victor breathed. This was impossible, he never left the factory!
A driver stepped around to open the door. Flash bulbs went off like a supernovas as the door opened.
This is my big chance to get in with Wonka! Victor thought with glee – his plan was paying off!
A young man stepped out, his dark hair neatly trimmed and wearing a dapper black tuxedo, the cut and quality of cloth obviously very expensive. Tall and lanky with a wholesome appeal, he looked to be about 15 or so. He smiled at the crowd, waving a hand at the cheers from the fans.
"Charlie Bucket! Over here Charlie!" the photographers went nuts, flashes of light popping all around as the famous teen leaned down to assist someone else from the vehicle.
A shapely long leg clad in a gold strap sandals with three inch heel emerged followed by it mate, the long jersey material of the dress sliding down silken thighs as the woman stood.
Victor felt his jaw unhinge. No! This is impossible…
Veronica waved and smiled as the yells and cheers from the crowd reached a new deafening level. Her smile was relaxed and her manner open and friendly.
Despite the cold, she wore a sleeveless clinging gown of dark mossy green with a subdued golden sparkle twinkling in its depths as she moved. The halter top was held in place by a sparkling torc of filigreed gold, matching the gold bangles around one slender wrist. The dress dipped low in the back draping just below her lower back. It looked like the necklace was the only thing holding the dress on.
Victor found himself unwillingly aroused at the sight.
Charlie offered her his arm and she slid one hand to rest in the crook, allowing the young man to guide her toward the entrance.
The stunning woman greeted several of the reporters with a smile and before meeting the Y! reporter by name, "Sleeza! How are you?" she asked warmly, as she and Charlie paused on the red carpet.
"Veronica Carmichael and Charlie Bucket! Making an appearance for the Cancer UK benefit – what draws you out of the factory tonight?" Sleeza asked, her trilling tones and smile straining on her face.
"We're here tonight to represent Wonka Inc to show our support for this important cause," Charlie said, his voice pitched to be heard over the crowd. "We want to do our part to make sure that the cure for cancer can be found and that the researchers and scientist get the funding they need and deserve to wage this battle. Mr. Wonka and I agreed that Cancer UK could use all the support it could get battling this horrible disease, so we came together to offer a 25 million dollar grant for research and development of a cure."
Sleeza made an "o" of surprise with her bright red lips and Charlie continued, "We also worked with the planners to ensure that tonight's guest get the opportunity to donate as well. Ms. Carmichael has designed and donated one of her sculptures to be auctioned off – the proceeds are also donated to the charity."
Nodding absently, Sleeza pushed Charlie into a more personal realm, "You look quite grown up tonight Charlie. Feeling comfortable in the public eye?"
Charlie grinned at the woman, "Once I managed to got Mum to help me with my tie I was ready to go. As for being under such scrutiny – it's to be expected as the heir to such a wonderful factory."
Sleeza nodded, impressed with the delivery from the teenage heart-throb. Charlie blushed charmingly as a group of teen-age girls cheered and yelled. One voice rang out, "I love you Charlie!"
Turning on Veronica, the reporter decided to try and move beyond the free advertising for the charity and into the juicy gossip she knew was there, "Veronica – what you look lovely! Where did you get your dress?"
The woman blushed slightly and said, "The dress was designed by Armand Digonnio and Spencer Talbot for me."
I'm sure it's tear away for easy access too, Victor thought bitterly. Even he had to admit she was a far cry from the mousy little kitchen drudge he'd worked with and lusted over. If he didn't know better, her poise and bearing would make him think that she was a real lady. But he did know better.
"Veronica – your amazing rags-to-riches story working for Willy Wonka must feel like a dream. We've found a few samples of your work, but nothing quite like your collaboration with Wonka Inc. You worked with the reclusive Chocolatier to jointly produce your amazing Candy Globes for the Christmas season. How did you succeed where others failed?" Sleeza asked, directing the microphone at Veronica.
Victor was inarticulate with rage, his hands clenched into fists as he glared at the woman who had beaten him to Wonka. Little bitch…sure, tell the truth..."I hoisted my skirt and he fell over himself to do my bidding."
"Pure luck – Mr. Wonka is a supporter of up and coming confectioners and candy artisans, I just caught his attention with my work and well…the rest is history," She answered humbly. "It's a good partnership and I enjoy working with such a creative genius."
"What can you tell us about the man?" The Y! reporter prodded.
Veronica responded smoothly with a smile, "Mr. Wonka is a wonderful caring individual. His heart is bigger than his factory."
Sensing an opening, the Y! reporter eyed Veronica's accessories, "The jewelry looks beautiful! Is this a gift from Mr. Wonka?"
Veronica with an impish gleam in her eye nodded, "In a way." Then she surprised the woman by bringing one of the gold bangles up to her mouth and crunching down on it with small white teeth.
"This is part of a new line that Carmichael Productions and Wonka Inc. are working on for Valentine's Day. We're calling it 'Berry Bling'!" She said proudly, holding up the bangle with the bite mark clearly shown. "Candy accessories in a variety of styles and flavors."
She offered the surprised reporter a small piece which she took and nibbled at with trepidation.
"Ooh! This is really good," Sleeza exclaimed surprised. She half-turned to the camera, "Such wonderful generosity! You heard it first – compassionate care from Wonka Inc and a sneak preview into the latest and greatest from the minds of Carmichael and Wonka."
Veronica gave a secretive grin, winking at the camera, and nibbling on the remains of her bangle.
As the reporter and cameraman moved away to interview the next celebrity, the pair moved up the red carpet and passed within feet of him. Victor fought to keep his face clear, but the young man escorting her caught his eye. Charlie recognized Victor from television and saw the expression of fury and frustration spasm across his face before it settled. He moved a little brisker, ushering Veronica safely inside. Giving one final wave, they disappeared from sight.
She has to die
Victor snarled, his face red with suppressed rage.
She had stolen his spotlight AGAIN!
This is personal now.
--
It was close to 1 a.m. when the limo pulled up in front of the old building that Veronica now called home. Charlie was yawing frequently and he was half-asleep in his seat. Used to odd hours, Veronica was tired, but more used to the sensation than the growing boy.
"Good thing it's Friday night – you get to sleep in this morning," she said cheerfully.
Charlie looked at her blearily, "I have to find my bed first. Are you alright, here?"
She nodded and pecked him on the cheek, "Thanks Charlie. You were quite the gentleman tonight and I know quite a few ladies who will feature you in their dreams."
He blushed, "Yes, well…"
Veronica laughed at his discomfort as she opened the door, "Night Charlie. Don't let the bedbugs bite."
He waited until she was safely inside and the front door of the building closed. Charlie abandoned the pretense of exhaustion and grabbed for the phone in the back of the limo. While the car pulled away to circle around to the back gate, he clutched the phone tightly listening to the phone ring.
"Welcome to Wonka Incorporated. You wish to continue in English, press 1 now. Para continuar en español, ahora presione por favor 2. If you wish to speak to a real live human being, check your clock and call at a reasonable time when decent people aren't fast asleep…," came the light tenor of the famous Chocolatier.
"Willy, it's me," Charlie said urgently
"Hey Charlie! How's it go? Are you on your way back yet?" Willy chirped, abandoning the pretense of being an automated system. "I saw you guys on TV. You looked really great!"
"We're back, she's safely home. Listen, I saw Victor Brahm in the crowd tonight. He looked really pissed off," the teen blurted.
"Watch the language," Willy said automatically, "Where? Did he attempt to get any closer?"
"Right when we got there – standing outside in the crowd by the front door. I didn't see him anywhere else, but he was wearing a tux so he probably was attending the benefit."
"Did Veronica see him?" Willy asked, worried.
"I don't think so. She didn't act any different or say anything."
Willy breathed a sigh of relief, "Good. No use worrying her about this. Listen, get back here ASAP. I'm notifying Smiley about a change in our security status. You head for home and get some sleep, 'kay?"
"What about Veronica? Shouldn't we let her know?" Charlie asked, concerned.
"Leave that to me."
--
Veronica closed the door to her new apartment and looked around in satisfaction. The airy space still was sparsely furnished and didn't have that 'lived-in' feeling yet, but it was still with a great deal better than living in the factory or in her old place.
She had painted the walls of her living room a rich magenta and hand-painted a few decorative swirls in black and gold on the wall with the large overstuffed black sofa. There were a few standing lamps and a new flat screen television bolted to the wall across the couch with several DVD cases and discs scattered around. She ignored all that to pass into the bedroom. She smiled at the large queen-sized bed with its mossy green sheets and luxurious high-weave cotton duvet. It wasn't made of course and the mess of her room with its scattered clothes and other newly purchased items felt comfortable. It was good to have a home again.
She gratefully sat on the bed and unbuckled the sandals, groaning in relief when her feet could resume the shape given to them by nature. Throwing the shoes into the open wardrobe with a thump, she stood and unfastened the necklace holding her dress up. Once released, the rest collapsed around her ankles and she stepped out scratching herself vigorously. Much better.
Pulling on the over sized tee shirt she preferred to sleep in, Veronica quickly washed the cosmetics off her face and gave her teeth a quick brush. Returning to the living room, she crossed over to the desk she'd rescued off the curb last week to check her e-mail on the new laptop. There was one message from Willy dated from just a few minutes ago. She happily clicked on the message:
Welcome Home Beautiful!
Hope your evening went well. I'll bring over the footage L.A. taped so we can MST3K it tomorrow night. Get some sleep and I'll see you soon.
Love Willy (Aka: Stud Muffin?)
Veronica laughed at the latest nickname. Stud muffin? Where did he keep coming up with this stuff?
Putting the computer back in to sleep mode, she shut off the lights, made sure the door was locked and padded to her bed. Willy had a key, but he had so far respected her privacy and always let her know when he was heading over to visit and she returned the courtesy.
She hadn't put curtains up yet, so the street lights illuminated the room. Cars passing down the street threw bright streams of light followed by the growl of an engine as it rolled by. Veronica stared at the ceiling, feeling tired, but not yet ready to sleep.
She still felt on edge, as she had been all evening. At first she thought it was because this was their first "official" public appearance for their respective companies and she was trying to be on her best behavior. But it still felt like hateful eyes had been drilling into the back of her skull during dinner and during the auction of her work.
Sighing, Veronica curled up on her side cuddling a pillow and brought the blankets up higher around her ears.
She missed Willy.
It had only been about two weeks since she moved in. Willy would visit about every two days or so. She made an effort to get over to the factory as frequently as possible, but there was still the odd day or so when they would miss each other - either an emergency would pop up and he was stuck fixing the machinery or too involved in the Invention Room to pay attention to the time.
Veronica didn't worry – she was wrapped up finishing the spun sugar sculpture of the new medical center for the benefit to really notice his absence. There had been other queries for her business as well, but thanks to the nice padding in her account, there wasn't the pressing need to work, so she could actually undertake projects that interested her, rather than just paid the bills.
The time they spent together felt so warm and comfortable. He wasn't just her lover or her business partner, he was her best friend. She loved his humor – the dry quirky way of looking at the world and the observations that he usually kept to himself, but shared with her. So far, her favorite way to spend an evening together was to have dinner, wash up, put on a bad movie and spend the time talking or making rude comments about the actors. Sometimes he would spend the night, but it he made certain that it wasn't an automatic assumption every time he came over or vice versa. Willy was giving her the requested distance, but as her feelings grew she wondered why she had wanted that distance in the first place.
Her eyes began to drift close and she allowed herself to slip under.
--
She walked the city streets, the heels she was growing accustomed to clicking against the pavement with hollow pops. The sun had set and the only thing lighting her path was the streetlights in the cold night air. A cold winter rain slithered down making the footing treacherous and the concrete looked slimy. She was alone
Then there was another set of footsteps behind her – heavier, echoing menacingly against the tall dark buildings around her. She glanced over her shoulder and saw a figure, dressed in a grey jacket and watch cap with hands stuffed deep in his pockets walking around her. Nervous, she walked a bit faster, clutching her messenger bag.
His steps also grew faster.
She shot another glance over her shoulder at the man, but the passing light overhead threw shadows over his face, preventing her from seeing him. Her heart started to race and her throat dried making it impossible to swallow.
Veronica felt a cold sweat break out. Fight or flight?
Falling back on her most reliable response, she broke out in to an awkward run. The heels made it impossible to hit her stride and she wobbled alarmingly. The following footsteps had disappeared, but she kept running to the next lamp.
Not seeing where she was going because she had dared another look over her shoulder, she crashed into a warm body, her ankle twisting off the heel and buckling under her with a cry of pain and surprise.
Hands clutched at her, preventing her from falling. She looked up into who had caught her and she gasped in horror.
Marcus.
He smiled his sweet smile with dead eyes…the one that was the same whether they had been on a date or while he was approaching to burn her with the glowing poker. She tried jerking away from him, but his grasp on her arms was too strong. "Let me go!" she pleaded, throwing her weight away from him.
"Never. You're mine," his voice said, even thought the smile never moved or faded.
She felt naked, exposed. The thin clothing she was wearing was soaked through by the cold rain and she shivered – her body starting to go numb. The strappy sandals on her feet wound up her calves, making them impossible to kick off so she'd have a decent chance of running. Marcus was still clutching her shoulders, his thumbs pressing painfully into the muscle of her arms as he shook her.
Not this time…not again, she thought. Her breath sawed painfully in her throat as she tried fighting past the panic to figure out a way to escape.
Veronica twisted in his grasp, kicking at his shins and stabbing at his eyes with stiffened fingers. Not expecting this approach, he released her in surprise and she stumbled back.
Another set of arms clutched her from behind, pinning her arms to her sides lifting her into the air making it impossible to escape. She screamed, eyes rolling wildly and bucked, trying to fight this new menace.
Marcus straightened and approached, "Maybe my associate should introduce himself."
Veronica was thrown forward suddenly, staggering to hit the stone wall with a crack that set her shoulder ablaze. She whirled to face the new man.
It was Victor.
Dressed in the grey jacket and watch cap, a gleam of anticipation in his eyes and lust twisting his features. He leered at her soaked and numb body, "I can see why you wanted to keep that covered up."
She cringed away from them, sinking to try and cower against the wall as they drew closer – her heart was racing and she felt sick in the face of the oncoming horror. Both of their faces were twisted and cannibalistic, leering and hated. Veronica tried to force her cold body to stand, to face down these monsters, but weakness sapped her energy and all she could do was tremble – already feeling the awful singing pain of broken bones and bruised flesh she knew was coming.
I don't know if I can survive both of them. I'm going to die aren't I?
Victor reached into his pocket and pulled out a knife, the sharp edge catching the dim light of the basement and throwing the glare into her terrified eyes. Marcus had the rope he had bound her in once before looped loosely in his hands and they moved like predators toward her.
She screamed, a high wail of hopelessness and despair, closing her eyes so she couldn't see them coming.
Veronica felt a hand grab her and she flailed blindly, "No! No! No! Not again! Never!" Her thin clothing tore and she could feel the coarse grasp crushing her arms. She was sobbing and trying to struggle, but she couldn't move.
"Veronica!"
--
Willy had let himself into her apartment to ensure that she was safe and sound. He had intended to slip out just as quietly when her shrieks broke out from the bedroom. Fearing the worst he had grabbed his cane like a baseball bat and charged into her bedroom ready to fend off her attacker.
Instead, he was confronted by Veronica, twisting violently in her sleep. Her eyes were screwed close, whimpers and sobs wrenched from her throat. She clawed at the sheets, her feet tangled in the blankets.
He dropped the cane and moved to scoop her into his arms, stroking her face and forehead lightly, "Veronica. Veronica! Wake up, Starshine – you're having a nightmare." He crooned, trying to soothe her.
Instead, she swatted at him, scrabbling back screaming, "No! No! No! Not again! Never!"
Fighting down panic, he realized that she was still asleep, "Ronnie! You're safe. I'm here." He cuddled her closer, ignoring her struggles to calm her.
Seeing that she wasn't waking up, he panicked, "Veronica!"
Her eyes shot open and Willy was thrown back into his own nightmare. He had hoped and prayed in vain never to see that kind of pain and terror in her bright eyes when she looked at him. Bolting from his grasp, she threw herself into the bathroom and was noisily sick.
He was frozen, shaking in reaction, his own stomach was twisting and for a moment he thought he'd have to compete for the toilet. Willy forced himself to take a long slow breath, then another. He continued to focus on his breathing until the nausea subsided. Not now - she needed him!
Veronica had stopped heaving, clinging to the toilet and sobbing soundlessly instead. Willy quietly rose and ran a washcloth under the tap with cold water, wringing it out before crouching down to gently blot the back of her neck and shoulders.
She sat back wearily and he could see the tear tracks that ran down her white face and the dry cracks in her bloodless lips. Tenderly, he helped her stand and wiped the tears from her eyes before handing her the cloth to wipe her mouth. "Give me a minute, please," she said hoarsely with a weak mockery of a smile. He nodded, his face solemn and stepped out of the bathroom to wait for her.
Breath in, breath out. Willy realized he was still shaking and his eyes burned with tears. He sat heavily on the bed and stared down at his hands. Was he strong enough for this? For her?
The water ran for a minute before she opened the door and stepped out. They studied each other for a moment, scared and confused, before Veronica sobbed again and flung herself onto the floor at his feet, wrapping her arms around his waist to bury her face into his chest as if he were the a rescue raft on a storm-tossed sea.
Willy found himself clinging to her just as fiercely. "It's okay. We're going to be okay," he whispered into her hair over and over. She was shaking, nose running with the intensity of her crying – struggling to reach low choking gulps of air.
"I...it…it w...was…Marcus again." She moaned, her arms aching with the desperate need to cling tighter to the one thing in the world that felt real to her in this moment of terror. "He had help…it was Victor."
Willy stroked her head, going cold at the name, "What happened?"
"They ganged up on me…" Veronica gagged slightly and forced herself to slow down her breathing. She was on the verge of hyperventilating and if wasn't careful would black out.
"It's okay – it was a dream. You're awake now," he said, rocking her softly.
"Willy. I think Victor may have been there tonight. I don't remember seeing him.." she stuttered, starting to come back to herself.
"He was. Charlie spotted him and let me know when he got back. That's why I headed over – to check and make sure you were alright," Willy said gently, releasing her sit next to him on the bed.
"Oh God…" she whispered, curling up, eyes wide with terror – her breathing speeding up again as she struggled against the panic attack.
"Calm down. I'm here. No one will hurt you. It was a dream…let it go." Willy said, staring into her eyes, using whatever willpower he could project into calming her down. "Okay, just take a deep breath in…let it out slowly as you can…in…out…good."
Staring into his lovely violet eyes, she followed his lead taking deep breaths and blowing the air out again as slowly as she could. Her body relaxed by inches and the manic energy that locked her muscles eased. Suddenly, she felt utterly exhausted. Slumping forward, she leaned up against the Chocolatier's warm body, "Thank you. I'm glad you're here."
He helped her lay down again - tucking the blanket up around her shoulders with tender concern.
"Willy? Would you mind staying with me? I don't want to sleep alone tonight," she said softly, feeling foolish and stupid for behaving like such a child.
To her surprise, he chuckled tiredly, "I wasn't planning on it. I just wanted you to ask first."
Willy slipped off his gloves, coat, vest, hat and boots before unpinning his shirt and laying the brooch on top of the pile of clothes. He removed his shirt and pants, draping them over the spare dining room chair that had been placed by the side of the bed. Clad only in his underwear, he crossed around to the other side of the bed and slid under the covers.
Veronica scooted over and took up their favorite comfortable position, her head resting on his chest, listening to the low rhythmic sound of his beating heart and the bellows that was his breathing. She draped one arm across his chest and one leg over his, half turning so her other arm wasn't going to go numb as she laid on it. Willy curled one arm to rest against her back, hand draped across her waist, placing a soft kiss on her forehead.
"Thank you," she whispered, eyes growing heavy despite her fear of dropping right back into the nightmare.
"Love you," she sighed as one more tear rolled from her eye and she drifted to sleep.
"I love you too, Starshine. I'll protect you," Willy whispered, his own energy spent. His eyes sagged shut and he let out one last heavy breath before he too was sound asleep.
They both escaped further nightmares, protecting each other in the night.