IT IS a familiar sight to a whole community – a red-brick factory set against terrace-striped hills.

And the sweet smell of chocolate that fills the air is equally well-known to the people who have lived near, and worked at, the factory.

While names like Courtaulds and Flanders and the mills and the mines all but disappeared from the Notts-Derbyshire industrial landscape, Thorntons survived.

And it survives still. Rowntree, Terry's and even Cadbury's – all the great Victorian chocolate manufacturers – have succumbed to global business buy-outs.

The factories in York have closed or downsized while in Bournville staff anxiously await Kraft's next move. Thorntons, which came slightly later, was founded in Sheffield by Joseph Thornton and his two sons, aged 14 and 11, in 1911, and is still going 99 years later.

The lads and lasses, in their chocolate-coated white overalls, are just stepping off the factory floor when I arrive. It's a shift change. The air rings with local voices. Most of the 1,400 staff at the company's Somercotes site hail from the surrounding towns. The site was built in the mid 1980s on a disused mine.

"Alright Gary – what time do you call this?" jokes factory manager Nathan Worth.

Nathan grew up in Belper. When he realised a career as a Leeds United footballer was out of the question, he came to Thorntons as a teenager, starting as an ice cream packer.

"I used to have to sit for eight hours a day with packs of -5.5C in my hands," he says, sticking out a paw to demonstrate.

It can't have been too torturous because he's still here, more than two decades on. He is at home on the factory floor, assured as he talks me through each stage of the chocolate-making process.

There are five "enrobers", long conveyor belts which carry row upon row of chocolate filling off to be chopped, spun, coated and cooled. Each machine works 24 hours a day and can process 1,600 kilos of chocolate an hour.

Nearby, Easter eggs rotate on a machine that resembles a Goose Fair waltzer. They are tempering, having been hand-painted by a line of women, sweeping chocolate-coated paintbrushes across plastic moulds.

"Not being sexist, but the ladies are better at the painting," Nathan grins.

This year, 3.5 million eggs will leave the Thorntons production line. Easter, as you'd expect, is massive in the company calendar.

The painting of the eggs remain one of the factory's few un-mechanised processes. It would be too expensive to paint by machine. Plus, as one of the painters – Margaret – tells me, it's fun.

Until 12 years ago, 60 women stood in a line, hammering toffee. The company remained family-run until the late 80s, when it was floated on the stock exchange.

"We always need to make more money. We have the city to please, etc," says Nathan. "But the staff are still like a family to each other."

"Family" is an over-used term in business. But here, it seems to hold true. Four years ago, friends and relatives of the "Thorntons family" were given a personal tour of the factory, which is light and air-conditioned with a subsidised staff restaurant.

"There's nothing like a factory floor for moans and groans," says Nathan, with a roll of the eyes. "But the families couldn't believe how well our staff were treated. It's just standard to us."

Once industry was the heartbeat of British cities. Nowadays, as marketing director Peter Wright admits, the sector is declining. It's all about finance, tourism, services.

But Thorntons remains staunch. The recipes of the traditional ranges – the Classics (toffees, fudges) and the Continentals – are decades old and use British milk. The people who mix them in massive vats are trained to get the quantities just right.

"I don't see how we could find that capability anywhere else," Peter says. He points out that relocating to Poland backfired for Cadbury's. Now the interest rate has gone the other way, the workforce isn't as cheap. "We have no plans to move," he says, firmly.

Most of Thorntons' sales are UK-based. They increased three per cent last year, largely via supermarket trade. Brands like the Alpini or the Viennese truffles get their own fan mail.

"British people care about their chocolate because they've grown up with it. It conjures up wonderful images," says Peter.

"That's why people were concerned about the Cadbury's sale to Kraft. They were worried about the staff but also fearful that the flavour would change. British people find American chocolate too sugary. Kraft needs to stick to the flavours people like."

The Cadbury's sale leaves Thorntons as the last big British chocolate brand. Although Peter admits, in the grand scheme of business, they're a minnow.

"We're not going to start waving Union Flags in our shops," he jokes. "I think most people are aware we're British. We prefer to promote ethical sourcing – if there's a great British ingredient, we'll make use of that."

jennifer.scott@nottinghameveningpost.co.uk