‘Dreadful, isn’t it?’
‘Shocking, I call it!’
‘Which do you think is her?’
‘That one! Over there on the left! The little girl in the silver mink coat!’
‘Which one is Charlie Bucket?’
‘Charlie Bucket? He must be that skinny little shrimp standing beside the old fellow who looks like a skeleton. Very close to us. Just there! See him?’
‘Why hasn’t he got a coat on in this cold weather?’
‘Don’t ask me. Maybe he can’t afford to buy one.’
‘Goodness me! He must be freezing!’
Charlie, standing only a few paces away from the speaker, gave Grandpa Joe’s hand a squeeze, and the old man looked down at Charlie and smiled.
Somewhere in the distance, a church clock began striking ten.
Very slowly, with a loud creaking of rusty hinges, the great iron gates of the factory began to swing open.
The crowd became suddenly silent. The children stopped jumping about. All eyes were fixed upon the gates.
‘There he is!’ somebody shouted, ‘That’s him!’
And so it was!
14
Mr Willy Wonka
Mr Wonka was standing all alone just inside the open gates of the factory.
And what an extraordinary little man he was!
He had a black top hat on his head.
He wore a tail coat made of a beautiful plum-coloured velvet.
His trousers were bottle green.
His gloves were pearly grey.
And in one hand he carried a fine gold-topped walking cane.
Covering his chin, there was a small, neat, pointed black beard — a goatee. And his eyes — his eyes were most marvellously bright. They seemed to be sparkling and twinkling at you all the time. The whole face, in fact, was alight with fun and laughter.
And oh, how clever he looked! How quick and sharp and full of life! He kept making quick jerky little movements with his head, cocking it this way and that, and taking everything in with those bright twinkling eyes. He was like a squirrel in the quickness of his movements, like a quick clever old squirrel from the park.
Suddenly, he did a funny little skipping dance in the snow, and he spread his arms wide, and he smiled at the five children who were clustered near the gates, and he called out, ‘Welcome, my little friends! Welcome to the factory!’
His voice was high and flutey. ‘Will you come forward one at a time, please,’ he called out, ‘and bring your parents. Then show me your Golden Ticket and give me your name. Who’s first?’
The big fat boy stepped up. ‘I’m Augustus Gloop,’ he said.
‘Augustus!’ cried Mr Wonka, seizing his hand and pumping it up and down with terrific force. ‘My dear boy, how good to see you! Delighted! Charmed! Overjoyed to have you with us! And these are your parents? How nice! Come in! Come in! That’s right! Step through the gates!’
Mr Wonka was clearly just as excited as everybody else.
‘My name,’ said the next child to go forward, ‘is Veruca Salt.’
‘My dear Veruca! How do you do? What a pleasure this is! You do have an interesting name, don’t you? I always thought that a veruca was a sort of wart that you got on the sole of your foot! But I must be wrong, mustn’t I? How pretty you look in that lovely mink coat! I’m so glad you could come! Dear me, this is going to be such an exciting day! I do hope you enjoy it! I’m sure you will! I know you will! Your father? How are you, Mr Salt? And Mrs Salt? Overjoyed to see you! Yes, the ticket is quite in order! Please go in!’
The next two children, Violet Beauregarde and Mike Teavee, came forward to have their tickets examined and then to have their arms practically pumped off their shoulders by the energetic Mr Wonka.
And last of all, a small nervous voice whispered, ‘Charlie Bucket.’
‘Charlie!’ cried Mr Wonka. ‘Well, well, well! So there you are! You’re the one who found your ticket only yesterday, aren’t you? Yes, yes. I read all about it in this morning’s papers! Just in time, my dear boy! I’m so glad! So happy for you! And this? Your grandfather? Delighted to meet you, sir! Overjoyed! Enraptured! Enchanted! All right! Excellent! Is everybody in now? Five children? Yes! Good! Now will you please follow me! Our tour is about to begin! But do keep together! Please don’t wander off by yourselves! I shouldn’t like to lose any of you at this stage of the proceedings! Oh, dear me, no!’