The Chocolate Factory Ghost Read online

  ‘I think this is the first clue,’ he said. ‘The letter said to Keep your eyes open and your taste buds ready. Maybe all the clues are sweets.’

  ‘But what does the clue mean?’ said Fliss. ‘Do you have to play a tune?’

  Archie didn’t know anything about music. He lined up the Tweety Sweeties in a row on the tree root, putting them in order of size. He crouched on the ground and blew through each one in turn, going from largest to smallest, then smallest to largest. Nothing happened.

  ‘I don’t think you’ll ever be on Dundoodle’s Got Talent,’ said Fliss unhelpfully.

  Archie frowned and studied the bird sweets. They had to be missing something. He noticed two of the birds had stuck together in the moist air. There was a kind of tab sticking out of one side of the first bird that had stuck in a hollow or slot on the side of the second bird next to it. All of the birds had a tab and a slot. They could all fit together, like a chain! Archie joined each bird to its neighbour, forming them into a fan shape with all the tail mouthpieces pointing the same way.

  ‘You can blow through all of them at the same time – genius!’ said Fliss gleefully. ‘And completely bonkers.’

  Archie put the joined-up tails into his mouth and blew. A soft harmony flowed from the birds, snaking through the tree, and sliding amongst the purple flowers. The tree quivered gently, nudging a single closed flower from its stalk. It tumbled to the ground in front of them and opened with a silvery chime, the petals curling back to reveal a small metal bell hidden inside. It bounced out of the flower, rolled across the tiles, and stopped at Archie’s feet.

  Archie and Fliss looked at each other.

  ‘We are dealing with some serious magic here,’ said Fliss. ‘You’re going to need all the help you can get.’

  Mum appeared from behind a tree fern.

  ‘There you are!’ she said. ‘And making friends already. That’s good!’

  Fliss smiled innocently. Archie quickly scooped up the bell and stuffed it into his pocket.

  ‘We’ve got a dog!’ he said, pointing to Sherbet, who wagged his tail politely.

  Mum raised an eyebrow. ‘Mr Tatters told me about some of the furry, four-footed details of the bequest,’ she said. ‘He’ll have to come with us now. It’s time to go home and sort out our move here, Archie. There’s lots to do!’

  Archie turned to say goodbye to Fliss.

  ‘We can look for the next clue as soon as I’m back,’ he whispered. She nodded and grinned, touching her spanner against her nose. Archie glanced up at the tree as he followed his mum out of the greenhouse. The magical letter had vanished.

  It wasn’t difficult to leave behind the grey, little house in the grey, rainy city of Invertinkle to move to Honeystone Hall in Dundoodle. Archie’s home had lost its cheeriness after Dad died. And now he and his mum had all the money and comfort they could ask for. And a fresh start.

  At first, Mum had been angry that Dad had never mentioned his rich relatives. She didn’t like secrets, especially about money. But they had been happy in their modest way, and when Archie mentioned that, according to the letter, Dad had meant to protect them, she had smiled softly to herself in recognition.

  ‘Your dad loved the countryside,’ she sighed, as they drove through the forested valley on moving day. ‘He would have liked us to live here.’

  The road left the trees and followed the shore of the loch, the water’s smooth surface glimmering like a mirror under the wintry sky. Dundoodle nestled amongst some low hills in the distance, overshadowed by the bad-tempered-looking mountain of Ben Doodle. Archie knew what the mountain was called as he had studied the town on a map. There was lots of countryside around Dundoodle, mostly moorland and forest. There would be plenty of exploring to do. Sherbet pressed his nose against the car window. He would certainly be glad to get back to his old stomping grounds!

  ‘We mustn’t go mad with the money,’ continued Mum. ‘We’re not used to having it. It would be very easy to get carried away and spend it on silly things.’

  ‘Yes, Mum,’ said Archie.

  ‘And you mustn’t go mad with all the fudge and chocolate lying around,’ said Mum. ‘Or your teeth will be rotten in no time.’

  ‘Yes, Mum,’ said Archie.

  ‘And you’ll be all right in your new school, won’t you?’ said Mum. She was in full-on worrying mode.

  ‘Yes, Mum!’ said Archie. He hadn’t really thought about the new school, the money (although that was nice) and the free fudge and chocolate (although that was nice too). He’d been thinking about the Quest, as he had decided to call it, and what new magical clues and puzzles awaited him on their return. He had tucked the little bell safely into a wooden box that had belonged to his dad, hidden amongst his clothes in a suitcase. What could it be for?

  The car wound through the twisty streets of Dundoodle. Archie hadn’t paid much attention to the town on their first visit. But since the strange business with the letter and the Tweety Sweeties he noticed the whole place had an odd feel to it, just as the letter had said. The buildings were mostly old and crooked. There wasn’t a single straight line to be seen amongst the beams and guttering and the rickety roof slates. It looked like the winter wind was trying to blow the whole town further up the slope of Ben Doodle and the houses were twisting around as they tried to stagger back down. All the people who lived there had the same odd, rickety look to them as well, as if they might easily have an elf or a wizard as a cousin, or a goblin as an auntie. Or a ghost as a great-uncle, thought Archie. What did old Mr McBudge have in store for him next?

  Eventually they reached the McBudge factory. As their car passed the entrance, Archie watched the factory workers going about their business. The familiar McBUDGE sign was fixed over the tall iron gates, a shield with a castle tower boldly painted on to it. Fierce little stone animals decorated the roofline of the factory. Honeystone Hall was right next door to the factory. Mr Tatters had told them there was a passageway that connected the two buildings.

  ‘I wonder why it’s called Honeystone Hall,’ observed Mum as they turned into the driveway. ‘Every building in this town is grey. Porridge-stone Hall would be a better name.’

  ‘And there are statues of rats with wings everywhere,’ said Archie. He spotted more of the little creatures adorning the Hall’s roof.

  ‘They’re dragons. I think they’re a family symbol or something,’ said Mum absently, as she parked the car.

  Archie saw that one dragon looked a little out of place, scrawnier and hunched. Suddenly, it jumped from the roof and flapped around the eaves, its beady little eyes glaring at him before it flew towards the town. Archie stifled a gasp. It wasn’t a dragon, stone or otherwise, but some horrible-looking, bat-like thing. Had it been spying on them? Thankfully, Mum didn’t seem to have noticed. She had enough to worry about already. But Archie shivered. How much more of Dundoodle’s strangeness was he going to uncover?

  They found the front door open. Sherbet immediately scurried into the hallway, glad to be back home, where Mr Tatters was waiting for them.

  ‘Tablet will take care of your suitcases,’ the lawyer said, as the old butler appeared from somewhere and wheezily heaved the car boot open. ‘I need you to sign a few last bits of paper.’ He led them back into the library. Archie gave the portrait of his great-uncle a hard stare but there were no blinks, winks or secret smiles today.

  Mr Tatters had just handed over the keys to the Hall when they heard a furore outside. One shrill, insistent voice was raised over the others.

  ‘Where is he? Where is that grubby little law-spouting, parrot-faced nonentity?’ The library doors burst open and a thin, expensively dressed woman, a black handbag swinging from the crook of her arm, strode into the room. She was quickly followed by a short, sweating man and two well fed children that Archie thought he knew from somewhere. Tablet padded behind helplessly.

  ‘So sorry, Master Archie!’ said the butler. ‘I couldn’t stop them!’

  ‘Titt
ers!’ spat the woman, advancing on the trembling lawyer. ‘Wait till I get my hands on you!’ Ten sharp, blood-red fingernails reached out for Mr Tatters, who hid behind his leather folder.

  ‘Mrs Puddingham-Pye, please!’ he begged. ‘There is nothing more to be said. Old Mr McBudge’s will was quite clear!’

  ‘Cousin Jacqui?’ said Mum, who seemed to recognise the woman. ‘Is that you? You came to our wedding.’

  The woman spun round on her heels, as if only seeing Archie and his mum for the first time.

  ‘What?’ she said, confused for moment.

  ‘This is Dad’s cousin, Jacqui,’ said Mum to Archie. ‘And her husband, Tosh Puddingham-Pye, and you two must be the twins, Georgie and Portia.’ The short man gave a weak, sweaty smile. The twins just grunted like a pair of grumpy piglets and stared meanly at Archie. Cousin Jacqui did not looked pleased to see him either.

  ‘It’s an outrage!’ she bellowed. ‘Why would Great-Uncle Archibald, who I loved so, so deeply,’ she clutched her claws to where Archie supposed her heart ought to be, ‘and who I know adored me, leave everything to this … this little scrap of a child, and not even a single penny to my loveable, wuvable little ones?’

  Because he knew a greedy, grasping villain when he saw one! thought Archie. He remembered what the letter had said about how the desire for money could turn people bad.

  ‘I’m not a scrap,’ he said, quietly but firmly.

  ‘And you’re already a lady of considerable wealth, Mrs Puddingham-Pye,’ soothed Mr Tatters. ‘The Puddingham-Pye Cookie Company is renowned. There’s nothing better than a cup of tea with a P-P, as I always say.’

  Archie sniggered. Mrs Puddingham-Pye glared at him.

  ‘It was the secret ingredient of the fudge we wanted!’ she growled. ‘You’ve no doubt heard of our Yummo Cookie Finger Nibbles?’

  Archie had heard of them. They were sold in boxes with a picture of two smirking children on it. That’s where he had seen Georgie and Portia before!

  ‘We were going to launch a whole new range of Yummo Fudge Cookie Finger Nibbles with the McBudge Fudge recipe, weren’t we, pumpkin?’ said Tosh Puddingham-Pye anxiously. He looked like a forlorn slug. Mrs Puddingham-Pye was definitely the one in charge.

  ‘They would have been the jewel in the crown of the Puddingham-Pye Cookie Company,’ said Jacqui. ‘But Great-Uncle Archibald always refused to tell us what makes McBudge Fudge so irresistibly tasty – the secret ingredient!’ She shook her fist at the portrait. ‘And now we’ll never have it!’

  Archie caught the painting frowning at her. Mr Tatters coughed meekly.

  ‘But now you’re the McBudge heir, Mrs Puddingham-Pye,’ he said.

  ‘What?’ said Mrs Puddingham-Pye, grasping him by his lapels. ‘What’s that, Totters? Speak up!’

  ‘That is, erm … you see,’ spluttered the lawyer, suddenly realising the awkwardness of the situation. ‘If something unfortunate should befall Archie then you are next in line to inherit.’

  It was the first time they had seen Mrs Puddingham-Pye smile. She released the lawyer and turned to look at Archie, bending her skinny frame in half until she was face-to-face with him.

  ‘Then let’s hope nothing unfortunate ever happens to darling little Urchin,’ she said, all syrupy sweetness. She gave him a look like she could happily strangle him on the spot herself. Georgie and Portia giggled.

  ‘My name is Archie,’ said Archie defiantly, ‘and I’ll make my own fudge cookie fingers using my secret ingredient.’

  Mrs Puddingham-Pye snarled. ‘We’ll see about that!’ she said, her handbag swinging menacingly on her arm. ‘Come along, Tosh – I’m not staying here a moment longer!’ And with that, she sailed out of the room, her husband and children trailing in her wake. The library doors slammed shut behind the Puddingham-Pyes, making everyone jump.

  ‘Goodness!’ said Mum. ‘It’s as if the house itself were glad to be rid of them.’

  If only Mum knew, thought Archie, smiling to himself.

  ‘What do you want to do first?’ said Mum as they stood in the hallway after having eventually seen Mr Tatters out. The apologetic lawyer had needed two cups of tea – with four sugars in each – and a P-P to recover from the attentions of Mrs Puddingham-Pye. ‘Explore the house? Or look around the town?’

  ‘I’d like to see the factory,’ said Archie. He wanted to look for clues for the Quest but thought he ought to see the McBudge business first. He hadn’t forgotten Fliss’s angry outburst, and wanted to show he was taking his inheritance seriously.

  ‘That’s what I like to hear!’ said a cheery voice from the doorway. They turned to see a smiling man wearing a white coat with a McBUDGE badge on the front. He had a red nose and kept sniffing like he had a bad cold. ‘Scotty Hankiecrust, factory manager, reporting for duty, Mr McBudge! Glad to see you’re as keen as old Mr McBudge was. Allow me to give you a personal tour.’

  ‘I hope there will be plenty of chocolate and fudge samples to eat … um, inspect,’ said Archie, trying to sound like a factory owner.

  ‘Oh yes, Mr McBudge,’ grinned Mr Hankiecrust. ‘Of course, sir.’

  Archie, Mum and Sherbet followed the sniffing Mr Hankiecrust down the passageway that led from the house to the factory. As soon as they opened the factory door they were surrounded by the noise of machinery: stirring, chopping, mixing, baking and packing. The factory was huge and buzzed with activity. Sweets, chocolates and fudge hurtled past them on conveyor belts, on their way to being tasted, sorted and boxed up for sale. The factory manager showed Archie and his mum the enormous vats filled with sugary liquids and melted chocolate ready to be turned into tasty treats; how the chocolate was piped and swirled over centres of coloured sugar or whipped, foaming fondant; and how the fudge was simmered in giant pans until just the right temperature, before cooling into slabs of soft, golden delight. Archie tasted as many sweets as possible – for business reasons, of course.

  ‘In our research laboratory, I can let you see our latest designs for new products,’ said Mr Hankiecrust excitedly. He ushered them through a door into a room where lots of people in white coats were standing around with clipboards and looking very earnestly at different sweets. Sherbet sniffed the air and drooled.

  ‘This is our newest brainwave,’ said Mr Hankiecrust. He pointed at what looked like an ordinary piece of chocolate. ‘A Chewochocochunk. It’s a type of fudge chewing gum, covered in chocolate.’ Archie picked up the Chewochocochunk and popped it into his mouth.

  ‘What do you think, sir?’ enquired Mr Hankiecrust. The people in white coats all held their breath.

  ‘Mmfgggbberrchoooeey,’ was all Archie could manage to say.

  ‘Yes,’ laughed Mr Hankiecrust. ‘It is a bit too chewy perhaps. We’ll have to work on that one.’ The people in white coats all scribbled on their clipboards busily.

  After they had left the laboratory, the factory manager took them to his office.

  ‘I just wanted a quiet word,’ he said as they sat around his desk. He looked anxiously at Archie and his mum and spoke in a whisper, even though there was no one else about. ‘We have a bit of a problem. No one has been able to find the secret ingredient for the famous McBudge Fudge since your great-uncle died.’

  ‘Isn’t that what the Puddingham-Pyes were after?’ said Archie, who was still picking Chewochocochunk out of his teeth.

  ‘Oh, you’ve met them, have you?’ snorted Mr Hankiecrust. ‘Yes, they’d love to get their hands on it. But the fact is, no one knows what it is or where it’s kept. Old Mr McBudge didn’t tell anybody.’ He produced a plate with two piles of identical-looking fudge. Archie and his mum each took a chunk of fudge from the first pile. It was nice but very ordinary.

  ‘Now try the McBudge Fudge,’ said Mr Hankiecrust, pointing to the other pile. Archie stuffed a generous piece of fudge into his mouth. It was creamier, sweeter and richer than the first, soft and delicious. As soon as he swallowed it he wanted another piece.

  ‘Mmmmmm,�
� he and Mum said together.

  ‘We’ve got a stockpile of McBudge Fudge we can send out to the shops,’ said Mr Hankiecrust, ‘but if we don’t find the secret ingredient soon any new batches of fudge we make just won’t be the same. It’ll just be ordinary fudge.’

  ‘Does that matter?’ said Mum. ‘The factory makes loads of other things.’

  ‘But fudge is our biggest seller by far,’ said Mr Hankiecrust. ‘If we don’t find the secret ingredient soon, it could be a disaster!’

  Mum and Archie looked at each other, shocked. There had been no talk of any secret ingredient in the will or in the letter Great-Uncle Archibald had left for Archie.

  ‘It’s probably mentioned somewhere amongst all the papers that Mr Tatters gave us,’ suggested Mum.

  ‘We’ll do some investigating at the Hall,’ promised Archie. ‘It must be there.’

  Mr Hankiecrust seemed a bit happier after that. Mum wanted to talk some more with him about how the factory worked, so Archie and Sherbet went off to explore on their own.

  They climbed some steps up to a gangway that hung over the factory floor. It gave a great view of everything that was going on. They walked further along and upwards, where the gangway was surrounded on all sides by large, twisting pipes like the tree trunks and vines of a metal jungle. Jets of steam spurted from valves and shrouded their path in a billowing mist. Odd gurgling and clanking noises echoed around them as they walked. To Archie’s ears it sounded like something was being digested in the belly of a large beast nearby. It was all very eerie.

  CRASH! A large sack landed heavily in front of him, missing him by centimetres and rattling the gangway so that he staggered backwards. The sack burst and Sherbet yelped in alarm. A white cloud of icing sugar erupted and enveloped them. Archie coughed as he breathed in the sweet powder. How had that happened? He looked up into the darkness and could just see two faces peeking over the side of another gangway, higher up in the roof. The faces disappeared with a giggle and a snort. The Puddingham-Piglet twins! Had they dropped the sack of sugar deliberately? He brushed the white dust off his clothes as he remembered Mrs Puddingham-Pye’s veiled threat. He would have to watch out.