As the Good Boy dragged the little brute's limp, half-conscious body into the lobby of the apartment complex where she lived, all he could think about was just how wrong what he was doing would look like to other people. Here they had a man dragging an inebriated woman who was clearly passed out up towards a private residence. Being that it was already well past sundown, Charlie did not see any people outside the apartment building or inside the apartment's lobby, but the fact that it was dark made his actions look ten-times worse to anyone who might be watching him, Charlie thought. But, when it came to the less uncomfortable aspects of what he had gotten himself into, Charlie could also see the irony that he too was partaking in the tradition of sorts where a guy takes a girl back home from the bar, the only difference was that Charlie would not do anything near the thing he was so paranoid of being accused of conspiring to do with his actions. However, Charlie did feel a bit more relaxed once he entered the lobby of the apartment building for there was no one in there to judge him apart from the doorman, who seemed to be judging Veruca instead of him, and a single person who sat behind the main desk. Once inside the elaborate lobby, decorated in marble and gold while crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, Charlie made his way to the main desk manned by the concierge typing something on the computer.
The concierge then quickly looked up a bit, and proceeded to ask, "Good evening, Sir. How may I be of assistance?"
"Yes, good evening, I am escorting Miss Salt home, but she seems to be out of it. Could you please tell me in which flat she lives in so that I may take her up and put her down to rest," Charlie replied, struggling to keep Veruca standing up as he asked for help.
The concierge gave Veruca a stare of pity as he too was also not surprised she arrived home in such a condition, and then turned back to Charlie, replying, "Oh yes, she lives in the Penthouse flat, the lift is on your right."
As Charlie moved in the direction of the concierge's extended arm, pulling a half-conscious Veruca alongside him, he turned his head around, and responded, "Thank you."
Access to this elevator was rather exclusive, in order to even get in you needed a key card to open it, something that Veruca clarified by pointing first at the sensor to the right of the doors and then back at her clutch purse. Charlie scoured her purse until he found the right card to scan so that the elevator doors would open, and once inside Charlie noticed that there were no buttons, just another sensor where he once again scanned the key card so that it would take them up to the penthouse. After a minute of standing in the middle of this contraction in awkward silence apart from the soft music playing on the speakers that was in complete contrast to how the Good Boy felt carrying Veruca, the doors of the elevator swung wide open, exposing an elegant, modern abode truly fit for an heiress. The penthouse was elaborately decorated but Charlie did not begin to study the decorations as he was focused on getting Veruca to bed and then getting back to the factory. Although Charlie then looked around and spotted Veruca's bedroom, he then turned left and walked through the door frame where he found a large white bed full of white and teal throw pillows. Once he reached the bed, he sat Veruca on the foot of the bed as he pulled back the cover and tossed the extra pillows to the side, and after helping her take off her purse, shoes and fur coat, Charlie picked her up and properly placed her in her bed.
Despite her inability to reach her own bedroom by herself, Veruca was surprisingly able to blare out one final coherent message before passing out, an eerie yet easily explainable message, "Why does nobody like me? I'm a princess, Daddy always said so."
"Shh shh shh, go to sleep, Veruca, you need it," Charlie whispered as he caressed her full cheeks with his right index finger, trying to get her to forget whatever caused her to say something so depressing.
Veruca then let out a faint unintelligible grumble, but she appeared to listen to Charlie's advice and fell fast asleep, although as he noted, she probably just passed out now that she was comfortable. With no invitation to be here, Charlie figured it was best for him to leave now, especially since he was also exhausted after a night of listening to speeches on how to overcome new trade hurdles into the European market in case there was a Hard Brexit. However, this might be the only time he could ever see how Veruca lived; even though he knew where she lived, he did not know if sober Veruca would even want him around, so he'd better take in the views now. After exiting Veruca's bedroom, the first thing he noticed was the home bar, which was now just a mess of empty liquor bottles on the counter with an entire library of alcohol behind it just waiting to be consumed. The empty bottles would explain why she entered the bar so intoxicated, but it also made her current condition much more eerie, it seemed as if Veruca was committed to permanently damaging her liver.
Putting this depressing red flag to the side, Charlie turned to face the extended balcony, a perfect space for a small party, especially with its view of the River Thames and South London and the iconic Tower Bridge to the left. Even at night when mostly everyone was already indoors the view from the balcony was still a million times more breathtaking than the bleak, less-maintained neighborhoods that surrounded Wonka's factory that were visible from the central tower, the structure where Charlie, Veruca, and the other winners and their guardians entered the factory with Wonka all those years ago and now Charlie passed through every time he came in and out of the factory. Turning back into the penthouse, Charlie noticed that one of the couch legs was broken and the entire thing was tipping in the direction of the broken led as that side had no support. There was also a wall lined with a large mirror and a ballet barre going through the middle of the mirror, perfect for some sort of exercise routine, Charlie thought. The kitchen and dining room appeared to be fully stocked, not that he believed Veruca cooked all her meals by herself, but it almost looked as if some sort of family lived there. And as Charlie headed back to the elevator to return to the factory, he spotted some framed photos on a table next to the wall. From far away they appeared to be photos of Veruca and her family, but before he could get any closer to better observe and study them, he got distracted by a faint grumbling sound. At first, he was not sure what was making the noise, but when the grumbles turned into noticeable gasps Charlie rushed back over to Veruca's room.
It was just as he had feared, Veruca's mouth was full of vomit, and she was now struggling to breath because her airway was blocked. Charlie ran over to Veruca's bedside and quickly turned her on her side, causing the vomit to slide out of her mouth and allowing her to breathe again. Charlie then rushed over to the kitchen and started looking for cleaning supplies throughout the cabinets until he found a mop, a bucket, and some rags. He filed up the bucket with water from the faucet and rushed back to Veruca's room where he dampened one of the rags and wiped Veruca's face with it. He then proceeded to wipe down the bed sheet, leaving only a brown stain behind and mopped up all the vomit that had fallen on the floor. Charlie then threw all the dirty vomit water into the toilet and flushed it down and tossed the rags and mop into the kitchen sink and rinsed them off only to rush back to Veruca's room with the empty bucket and a glass of water for Veruca to rinse her mouth off with. He helped her get the water into her mouth and then she let it spill out into the bucket where Charlie caught it and flushed it away as well.
This scare shook Charlie to his core, he has just reunited with his fellow Golden Ticket winner and had he had left right after tucking her in, Veruca most likely would have died of asphyxiation. Charlie could not leave her unattended now, not in this condition, he would not have a death on his conscience. For her safety, Charlie rolled her over on her side and placed her near the end of her bed with the bucket down below to capture any vomit that she might throw up throughout the night. And because he needed to make sure she was safe, Charlie decided to stay a bit longer, the only problem with that was that the "soon" in "I'll leave soon" kept getting pushed with every passing minute. As much as Charlie wanted to return to the factory and fall into a deep sleep, he knew that he could not leave Veruca alone. He sat on a chair in the corner of the dark bedroom, with the only light coming from a lamp on a nightstand on the other side of the bed from where Veruca was and the bit of light coming from outside. Eventually the clock struck 3 AM and Charlie was struggling to stay awake, for the past hour he was locked in a battle with heavy eyes trying to close themselves and a head attempting to fit in between his legs and the duty he swore to, making sure Veruca did not die on his watch. As much as he tried to fight it, drowsiness eventually won and Charlie knew he had to get some sleep, but he also could not leave Veruca alone. Stuck in such a conundrum, his sleep-deprived mind did something that seemed reasonable at the time, he got up and lied down in the bed next to Veruca. Charlie made sure to leave a sizable distance between the two of them and turned his body to face the opposite side of the bed, and as uncomfortable as it felt sharing a bed with the little brute, someone he truthfully had only known for a total of a couple of hours, he promised himself that it would only be for a while, he just needed to rest for a bit and then he would go back to the chair and stay at an appropriate distance away from Veruca.
Charlie never woke up again that night.