While Veruca might have grown up to become an entitled misanthrope with alcohol-related impulse control issues, Charlie knew that underneath that rough exterior lied a little girl, still terrified by the memory of squirrels amassing around her, who just needed a hug, he just knew it. Charlie now realized he had to reach Veruca somehow, he had to make up for his own failings, and the more he thought about it, he realized he had to make it up to the other winners as well. The only reason he won Wonka's factory was because all the other kids got disqualified, and Charlie could not live knowing that the other kids had to suffer in order for him to have won the factory. The Good Boy agreed that one of his first acts of business in the morning would be to look into hiring a private investigator to track down the other Golden Ticket winners, perhaps even the same one that Wonka hired to find his father. He knew Wonka probably still had his number lying around since the master chocolatier had told him that he had a personal relationship with the investigator, but Charlie would also have to make sure the investigator would not reach out to his old friend and inform him of his new assignment. Nevertheless, Charlie knew where one of his fellow Golden Ticket winners was and despite all of the bad experiences he had with her, including just a few minutes ago, he was going to do the right thing and reach out, even if she hesitated to respond the whole time.
Getting a good night's sleep in the same room where a trash-covered person, who was really now an adult, appeared to you in child form just a few minutes prior was a challenge, but it was Charlie's only option other than bunking with Grandma Josephine. But eventually, the night passed and with morning came a new day. Charlie followed his routine as usual, albeit with a bit more excitement than usual because he would be doing something different in the afternoon. He had asked two Oompa Loompas in the Shipping Department to accompany him on a journey to the outside world, literally off the beaten path they took every day transporting Wonka Candies from the factory to the domestic and Irish distributing warehouse and Heathrow Airport to ship them to their many other distributing warehouses and then to their individual distributors all over the globe. Wonka chose the 1961 Bedford J2 as his preferred mode of transporting goods out of the factory, he chose the trucks first produced when he was still a toddler around the time he first opened his factory, and like a Cuban mechanic, he always found a way to keep those classic vehicles running even after being on the road for almost 60 years. That ingenuity came in handy because after he replaced local workers with Oompa Loompas, Wonka had to reengineer the cabin of the trucks so that the miniature humans could drive the vehicle to and from their destination.
While two Oompa Loompas followed him in one of the old, faded cherry red trucks he used to watch leave Wonka's factory every day as an impoverished child, Charlie knew he had to arrive in style if he wanted to capture the attention of the toffee-nosed Veruca. Arriving in the Great Glass Elevator would surely qualify as haughty, but it might be too much for a first trip out, so he decided to go with his second option. When it was time for Charlie to learn how to drive, Wonka commissioned a vehicle based on the luxurious Audi A8L for his heir. Charlie kept his gift in good condition as he hardly ever drove it, he really only used it when he had business somewhere in London, and the farthest he'd ever driven his car was the Low Countries on the mainland. The car looked so much like its inspiration, the only way you could differentiate them would be by looking at the logo of the vehicle's grill, it was not the four unified rings of the original but the decorative W of the commissioner's initial and brand logo. Both Charlie and the Oompa Loompas exited through the front gates of the factory with Charlie leading the charge for the next 45 minutes until they reached The Stourton Block in City of London. Charlie told the Oompa Loompas to sit still until he came back with his friend, who he assured them would be stepping out any second now, but the reality was that he had not heard from Veruca since the moment he left her penthouse in a rush because he was late for work. He gave her his business card with his phone number on it, but she had not called him back. Sure, she threw it to the side, but that did not mean she couldn't have picked it up later and dialed the number, right?
After waiting outside the building for five minutes, having yet to receive a call from Veruca, let alone see her come out of the building, Charlie was starting to get worried she might never come down. If true, not just had he brought these Oompa Loompas down to the heart of the city for nothing, but he might also not get the opportunity to reunite with this particular Golden Ticket winner as he desired. Now, he was not going to let that happen, so Charlie grabbed his personal items from his car and walked into the lobby of the building in hopes of letting Veruca know he was out here waiting for her. Unfortunately, as he remembered, he needed a key card to access the building's elevator, but luckily the concierge was behind his desk, waiting to attend anybody who needed help. As Charlie got closer, he noticed the concierge was the same one who attended him when he first brought Veruca home from Fenston's. He was a lanky, dark-skinned man with dark curly hair styled in a flat top and a bright smile who wore a navy-blue three-piece suit uniform.
Overall, the look was quite similar to what Charlie was wearing, except he ditched the jacket and tie and wore a dark vest with gray trousers and a white dress shirt. He rarely dressed this formal, usually only when he was out of the factory on business, but he didn't want to stick out like a sore thumb to the high-end clientele that would shop at whatever luxury store Veruca would have in mind of visiting. That was probably the worst thing Charlie had to go through as the heir to the Wonka empire, mingling with the elite; sure, he was destined to inherit billions, but he was not brought up in those circles and only really knew the customs of the urban underclass. He often felt very uncomfortable at business events surrounded by Oxford and Cambridge-educated trust fund babies, especially during social mixers when he had a front row seat to their rants about how ungrateful the lower classes were for demanding more benefits and a bolstering of social services. At first, he thought Veruca would fit in well with such a crowd, but Charlie knew deep down there was something different about her, he just needed to help her unleash it.
Charlie reached the concierge's desk and leaned across the counter to introduce himself, saying, "Greetings."
The clean-cut concierge stood up from his desk to face Charlie, and replied, "Good day, Sir. You were with Miss Veruca the night before last, correct?"
Charlie smiled when the concierge recognized him as becoming chummy with him would aid him in his plan, and so he built off this fact, adding, "Indeed, that was me. I've come back to take her furniture shopping, but she hasn't seemed to have dialed me back. If you could, my good sir, open the lift doors and send me up to her Penthouse. I know you need a key card, but I don't have one."
Unfortunately, the heir had run out of luck, the concierge's face became dead serious with such a request, leading him to respond, "I'm sorry sir, but without a key card I can't allow you inside the lift. Only if the tenant informs the concierge's desk of a visiting guest ahead of time and I do not see a note of that kind from Miss Veruca."
With the concierge looking down at his computer for the last part of his response, Charlie leaned on the counter to be at eye level with the other man, and begged him, "Please, is there any way you could help me out? I can't seem to get in contact with her."
"Since I know you two know each other, let me dial her myself and I'll inform her of your presence. You're name, sir?" The concierge responded, asking for the guest's personal information.
"Charlie, Charlie Bucket," the Good Boy replied solemnly.
"Very well Mr. Bucket," the concierge said as he picked up his desk phone and called Veruca, all the while unsure if the little brute would even answer her phone.