That Candyman is Mine!

Dressed in a pleated blush-colored skirt and white button-up shirt, Veruca scurried downstairs, hair brushed but not quite dry, to get the newspaper, as she had been doing routinely the past week. This day, however, the paper wasn’t where it usually sat- the oak table in the foyer lay bare.

Aghast, Veruca slowly poked her head around the corner to see her father shuffling though the parts of the paper he read while sitting at the table. She jumped into the room quickly, but he didn’t take notice. The cook, however, who was cleaning up after breakfast almost dropped the plate she was holding.

“I thought you were leaving!” Veruca said fiercely, hand on hips.

Mr. Salt took a sip of the black coffee he was drinking. “I am, poppet.” He said in his regular drone-like voice. “Just checking up on my stocks before I leave. I rather like to be informed about these things while chatting with the people at the club.” He sniffed, and bit the half of toast he was holding in his hand.

Reluctantly, Veruca sat down next to him, searching for the front page through the mess that consumed nearly the entire table.

“Oh, I bet you are looking for this.” Her father said, holding out the front section. “It mentions that foolish Wonka fellow, I believe. Really, when will people respect the nutritional value of nuts and forget about all this chocolate nonsense?” He scowled, and folded up the stocks section.

“Darling, are you ready?” Mrs. Salt called from the hallway, adjusting her white sunhat and glasses in the mirror. Mr. Salt stood up and pulled on his winter jacket he had laid on the back of his chair.

“See you later, dear.” He said to Veruca, kissing the top of her head as he made for the hallway to join his wife. The two were heard trotting out the front door into the snow-covered yard and pulling away in their car. Contrariwise, Veruca hadn’t heard any of this. She was shocked from the quick dose of adrenaline that had come from reading the headline of the newspaper. There, in an awkwardly candid shot from behind the bushes outside the factory, was Charlie, hugging Mr. Wonka goodbye, his family waving from beside a dark-red car with the Wonka emblem on the side. Above the picture it read: “Young Wonka prodigy Charlie Bucket to head to convention in Switzerland!”

The streak of jealousy she felt from seeing Charlie in Wonkas gauche embrace subsided quickly as she realized her plan was coming together smoothly and soon it would be her in his arms. She would leave immediately! Veruca tucked the paper under her arm and ran upstairs to pack.

Soon she was back downstairs, white thigh-highs, fluffy pink boots and a gorgeous mink coat added to her ensemble. One hand clutched a circular suitcase and the other slipped on a pair of hear-shaped sunglasses. She always liked Lolita, and now was the time, if any, to embody her. She pushed them down to the end of her nose and fluttered her eyes comically into the hallway mirror, making a silly looking kissy-face.

“Mam… are you going to eat your… where are you off to?” The cook looked at her from around the corner, her eyebrows arching in curiosity.

Veruca pushed the glasses back up normally and glared at her through the mirror. “None of your business!”

The cook looked gruff, but she honestly only cared to the point of keeping her job so she turned around and went back into the kitchen. Veruca grinned at her conquest and set off to the garage where a driver was waiting for her.