The Secrets of Ice Cream Success

by AD Hartley

  ‘How do you know the machine doesn’t work?’ Ben asked joining Newton.

  ‘There’s a picture of it in here on the second page; a sketch he drew ages ago; but he didn’t make it… my Granddad did.’ Carlo re-opened the book at the second page where there was an entry dated 19th September 1972. He turned the book around to show the others a number of pencil sketches and scribbles. ‘I think Granddad was a bit of an amateur inventor. Look at that.’ Carlo said pointing to a strange picture of a device that looked more like a power station than anything that would be seen in ice-cream production.

  ‘It appears to be a steam powered ice maker.’ Newton said with a smile. ‘Your Granddad seems to have been concerned that a lack of electricity might prevent him making ice cream.’ Newton continued, still staring at the note book. ‘Can I?’ he added to Carlo half turning the page and indicating he would like to continue.

  ‘Err… I don’t know. It’s dated like it’s a diary. Perhaps you shouldn’t.’

  ‘As you wish.’ Newton said with a shrug.

  ‘As you wish? There could be plans for an ice-cream powered rocket-ship in there. We need to check!’ Norton whined.

  ‘Carlo’s right. We can’t just go reading his Dad’s diary. It’s not right.’ said Abi.

  ‘But he won’t know will he?’ Norton pleaded.

  ‘Norton!’ Abi said shocked.

  ‘What? Mr Leodoni isn’t going to mind is he? I mean when you’re dea…mwhh mwng murfffle!’ he finished lamely as Abi put her hand over his mouth and stared meaningfully into his eyes.

  Ben stepped in front of the struggle blocking them from view and smiled at Carlo. ‘We won’t read it, honest.’

  ‘I just think I should read it first, y’know?’

  ‘Yeah… yeah, ofcause you should.’ Newton said with a smile. ‘I’m sure you’ll let us know if your Granddad thought of any ways that ice-cream can save the whale.’

  Abi let go of Norton and prodded him in the head. ‘Think!’ she said to him. ‘…Just occasionally.’

  Carlo closed the book gently and pretended not have seen this exchange. He knew that the subject of his father’s death made the others uncomfortable and he wanted to tell them it was alright, but he hadn’t worked out how to do this yet other than to just blurt it out. He ran his hand lightly over the cover of the diary and smiled. He longed to go straight home and start reading but joined the others exploring the rest of the room.

  ‘Your Granddad was weird.’ Norton expounded looking at a grainy black and white picture of Mr Leodoni Senior standing next to what appeared to be refrigerated torture device, but turned out to be a new kind of chocolate coating machine for ice lollies .

  ‘The quick freeze chocolate coater.’ Newton read over his shoulder.

  Abi was reading aloud titles of books like “Gelato - Un Studio” and “Arte di Fare Gelato Italiano” whilst Ben attempted to break into the cabinet that contained the large models of old ice cream vans. He stopped when Abi threw him a disapproving look. Eventually, as he realised that despite Granddad Leodoni’s strange inventions there was nothing there to interest him further, Norton began to make noises of boredom in the hope that the others would take the hint. There was still lots of exploring to do back up in the factory and as far as he was concerned books were things that held computer game cheats and very little else. Catching Ben’s eye Norton motioned with his head towards the stairs.

  Sighing, Ben nodded and wandered towards the door. ‘We’re going back up.’ He said.

  ‘Yeah. Nice museum, Carlo. Dead interesting and stuff…’ Norton added before pounding up the stairs after Ben.

  ‘So has this helped then?’ Abi asked Carlo, as she too started walking towards the door.

  Carlo turned to look at her and Newton. ‘Yeah, it has.’ he said, walking towards them. ‘This place belongs to me. I’m going to tell Uncle Randy I’m definitely not signing the papers.’

  ‘Cool!’ she said with a grin heading up the stairs. ‘We can help too.’

  Carlo knew it wasn’t a question but a statement, but he liked the fact that his friends would want to be a part of it with him; helping him to re-launch Leodoni’s.

  As he closed the door he gave the room one last glance and realised he had left the diary on the table. Walking back into the room he picked it up and gave another look around his father’s study and smiled feeling more at home than at any point since his father’s death. As as he stepped back to the stairs he jumped nearly dropping the diary as the lights went out and he heard the door in front of him slam shut.

  ‘Hey!’ Carlo shouted in shock as the noise echoed of the walls. He grasped the diary tight to his chest and could feel his heart thumping off it as his blood thundered around his rigid body. He stood still for a number of seconds unable or unwilling to move, he couldn’t have said which. It took an effort of will to relax a little so he could take a step towards the door, but in the pitch black he could see nothing at all. The room was entirely silent and still apart from the pounding of his heart, which he was sure the others would be able to hear it seemed so loud.

  The temperature in the study had dropped noticeably and Carlo began to shiver through cold and fear. Reaching out with his free hand he slowly inched forward; noticing the cold air on his arm and feeling the goose pimples raise his hairs on end. His hand touched the short banister that led the four steps up to the door and jumping up three of the steps, tripping on the fourth; he hit the door with a thump and tried to open it at the same time in his haste to leave the room. The door opened a few inches and then slammed shut again pulling Carlo back into it with a crash making him drop the diary.

  ‘Very funny!’ Carlo shouted realising that the others must be behind the door. ‘Highly amusing… come on, open up!’ He pulled hard on the handle but it didn’t budge. ‘Open up!’ he shouted again banging on the door with his hand. He tried the handle again, pulling it as hard as he could with his foot on the door frame, but he soon regretted using so much force as all resistance disappeared and the door flung upon, knocking into Carlo and sending him backwards down the steps where he landed heavily on the floor knocking all the air from his lungs.

  Carlo gasped for air and looked up expecting to see Norton or Ben in the doorway laughing hysterically but there was no one there, just the dull light of the empty stair well spilling lazily into the study. Still taking deep breaths that condensed into steam in the freezing room, Carlo took a look around the study from his prone position but in the dim light he was certain that he was alone. He felt extremely cold and started to feel sweaty. Not wanting to lose the opportunity of an open door he sprung up as quickly as his aching body would allow and pelted for the stairs back to the factory floor.

  Carlo appeared at the top of the stairs at full speed, roaring past his friends without evening noticing them.

  ‘What’s wrong with you?’ Abi shouted.

  Skidding to a halt Carlo bent over double with one hand on his leg to support him as he struggled for breath and the other nursing his back where he had fallen. He pointed at the door back towards the study and tried to speak but managed only to wheeze with conviction.

  ‘Door… dark… couldn’t see…’ he eventually coughed.

  ‘Ah… well that explains that then.’ Newton said walking past Carlo and patting him on the back.

  Carlo grabbed his hand as he passed and pulled him close. ‘No… was trapped.’ He whispered before leaning back against a van and stretching his back. ‘Ow!’ he groaned, rubbing his side.

  ‘Trapped where?’ Newton asked. ‘What on earth are you on about?’

  ‘Look, can we just leave?’

  ‘You’re shaking. What’s wrong with you?’ Abi asked feeling his forehead. ‘… you’re all hot.’

  ‘Don’t feel good… think I need to go home.’

  ‘What were you saying about being trapped?’ Newton asked starting to look a little concerned.

  ‘Trapped?’ Abi repeated looking at Newton sharply
.

  ‘That’s what he said.’

  Carlo couldn’t face telling the story. For some reason he was starting to feel extremely queasy and the only thing he wanted to do right now was sag to the floor and moan softly to himself. He started to sag down against the van and Newton had to grab him under the arm and lift him up.

  ‘We better take him home, look at him.’ Abi pointed out as Carlo’s face started to turn pale green. ‘He looks terrible.’ She took him by the other arm and together they started to walk Carlo towards the entrance.

  ‘What’s up with him?’ Norton asked from the serving hatch of one of the vans as they struggled past.

  ‘I don’t feel so good…’ Carlo mumbled.

  ‘He doesn’t feel so good.’ Newton echoed. I think he has bird flu… or possibly the Ebola virus.’

  ‘Cool.’ Ben said hopping down from the driver’s seat. ‘What does that do?’ Carlo suddenly retched and threw up impressively as Abi and Newton danced on tiptoes to avoid the vomit whilst still keeping hold of their friend. ‘Oh… that.’ Ben answered his own question.

  ‘Eew! That’s flippin’ disgustin’ that is!’ Norton added staring at the slowly oozing puddle in fascination. ‘What have you been eating, mate?’

  ‘Your Mum.’ Carlo replied, wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve.

  Ben chuckled appreciatively whilst Abi tried to find a tissue in her pocket, tutting quietly about Carlo’s cleaning methods.

  Having slowly trudged up the service ramp and out of the hatch, Carlo passed the keys to Ben to lock up as Abi finally found a handkerchief and made to start wiping Carlo’s face, but he pulled back trying to stop her.

  ‘Don’t be a child!’ she said, spitting on the hankie and trying again.

  ‘Not now…’ Carlo mumbled urgently, nodding towards the main gates.

  ‘What?’ Abi asked in frustration turning to see why he was making a fuss. ‘Oh… sorry’

  Looking through the main gates was a pretty girl in a red t-shirt with jeans, matching red trainers and a rather mystified expression.

  ‘Crap.’ Carlo whispered, pulling himself free and standing up straight only to stumble back against the doors behind him.

  ‘Hi, Carlo…. Abi… Ben.’ The girl said, taking in the scene. ‘How’s your summer so far?’

  ‘Ah, y’know… not bad. ‘Ben answered with a smile, ambling towards the gates, jauntily spinning the bunch of keys round his finger. ‘How ‘bout you, Vik?’ he asked standing in front of her to obscure the view of the others.

  ‘OK, I suppose. I was going to pop round and see you guys; I’m having a party and I hoped you three would come?’

  ‘Ah well… I don’t know…’ Ben answered absently while looking over his shoulder to see the others shuffling towards the gates.

  ’Your friends can come too.’ she added nodding towards Norton and Newton, after misreading Ben’s forced nonchalance.

  ‘What? Oh… yeah… well, I don’t see why not. Sounds like fun.’ he said, edging round to block the view of Carlo again.

  ‘You’ll come won’t you, Carlo?’ she asked peering around Ben’s large frame and getting a full glimpse of Carlo. ‘Oh… are you OK?’

  ‘Yeah… fine thanks. Really good.’ He said as cheerfully as he could, fully aware that his fringe was stuck to his brow with sweat, his face was the colour of guacamole and he had bile all over his jeans.

  ‘Oh… right. Well I’ll give you all a call later about it, yeah?’

  ‘Yeah… thanks, Vic. I’m sure we can all make it.’ Abi added sweetly.

  The girl nodded and after taking one more apprehensive look at the bizarre gathering she walked on with a last fleeting glance over her shoulder towards Carlo.

  ‘Well,’ Ben said, clapping his hands together happily at a job well done, ‘I think that went well.’

  Carlo’s muscles finally gave in to gravity and he slumped to the ground. ‘I want to die…’ he groaned, more in embarrassment than pain.

  ‘It wasn’t that bad. You’ve got a party invite.’ Abi pointed out tactically, ‘And I’m sure she didn’t notice anything.’

  Norton looked between Carlo, Abi and Ben with a slowly dawning expression of understanding. ‘Hang on a second… you like Victoria Dearlove?’ he blurted out, incredulous. ‘God, she’s way out of your league, Carlo! She’s like two years older than you, which is almost an illegal age gap, plus she’s going out with that John David from Priestfield School and he’s like six foot eight! And everyone knows that school’s full of nutters!’

  ‘She isn’t going out with him at all; they just went to the disco together at the end of term. She told me!’ Abi said with a note of finality.

  ‘Well I don’t care, I don’t like her!’ Norton said. ‘She never speaks to me or Newt.’

  ‘She doesn’t know you or Newt.’ Ben chipped in. ‘I wouldn’t speak to you either if I didn’t have to.’

  Norton stuck two fingers up at Ben and turned to the prone Carlo. ‘Come on mate, she’s not worth getting fussed about.’ he said with an untypical note of caring as he held out his hand to help him up. ‘We don’t want to go to that party anyway, do we, eh? Me, you and Newt’ll have a party of our own.’

  ‘Of course he wants to go to the party.’ Abi butted in.

  ‘No he doesn’t!’

  ‘Does so!’

  ‘He does not!’

  ‘I want to go to bed.’ Carlo pointed out from the floor, Norton having retracted his offer of help in order to argue.

  ‘She invited you and Newt.’ Ben added, coming to Carlo’s assistance.

  Norton stopped the next comment on the edge of his lips and changed tack with all the grace of an Olympic sailor. ‘Well, obviously Newton and I would be happy to attend the party, eh Newt?’

  Newt shrugged; a picture of non-committance. ‘I don’t know… the only parties I’ve ever been to have been at your houses. My mam won’t be keen. She has a rather dramatic opinion of what goes on at ‘Youth Gatherings.’

  The group nodded in understanding. Mrs Newt was always held up as a beacon of unreasonableness and her opinions were to be disagreed with at all costs.

  ‘She reads too many newspapers your mum.’ Ben added, sagely. ‘Can’t possibly be good for her.’ He put his arm round Carlo and started off down the street.

  ‘What does go on at Youth Gatherings?’ Norton asked as the others followed.

  ‘Dunno. Ask my Mam.’ Newton answered.

  Carlo spent the next three days in bed with a fever and sickness. The doctor, much to Newton’s displeasure, claimed that Carlo had contracted a stomach virus and not Bird Flu or Ebola.

  But even in his weakened and sleep deprived state Carlo knew that he wasn’t suffering from a “tummy bug” as Abi kept calling it. Something had happened in his father’s study and he was certain he was suffering the after effects. On the fourth day Carlo struggled out of bed after another sleepless night of hot flushes, cold shivers and strange thoughts about a dark, cold room. He wrapped his duvet round him, despite the glorious weather outside, and slouched slowly downstairs where he fell onto the sofa and groaned until his head stopped spinning.

  ‘You’re still alive then?’ Uncle Randy said from the armchair without removing his eyes from his paper.

  ‘No… I’m dead. What you’re seeing is the ghostly embodiment of my former suffering.’

  ‘Oh. So you won’t want a bacon sandwich for breakfast, then?’

  Carlo opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling, which seemed to be spinning in a figure of eight formation. He was hungry, having not eaten that much for the past few days, but he was sure that he would have trouble keeping food down. ‘Yes please.’ he said throwing caution to the wind ‘And you better bring a bucket.’

  While Carlo was warily eating his breakfast Randy mentioned that he was going to visit the solicitors the next day. ‘…so I’m going to tell them that we are reverting back to the original terms as dictated by your father’s will with the agre
ement we negotiated about my involvement as acting Managing Director with you as the Junior Managing Director until you reach twenty one.’

  ‘Err… yeah.’ Carlo said before swallowing the last bite of his sandwich and waiting until he was sure that nothing untoward was going to happen that would require the bucket. ‘What happens after that?’

  ‘Well,’ Randy said, finally putting down his paper, taking off his reading glasses and looking at Carlo, ‘we need to get a move on. The first thing to do is try and get Neil and Lucy back on board. Both have new jobs and families to support, so it won’t be easy, but they were the Sergeant Majors of the factory, they made it tick.’

  ‘Once we have them back we then need to find as many of the old staff as we can and fill any gaps we have with experienced new staff. There needs to be a full audit of the factory, its equipment and vehicles and then we need to plan a marketing campaign to announce the re-opening. Once we have that underway we can gauge interest and start talking to our old suppliers about re-stocking and finally getting manufacture back underway.’

  Carlo felt his stomach gurgle, but was certain it was nothing to do with his health. ‘Jeepers.’ he whispered.

  ‘Indeed.’ Randy answered with a smile. ‘I’m going to contact Neil and Lucy after I’ve been to the solicitors. I’ll let you know how it goes.’

  ‘Oh, I’ve just remembered. I promised the others they can work with me.’

  ‘The others?’ Randy asked.

  ‘Ben, Abi, Newton and Norton.’

  ‘Oh, them… well, I don’t know Carlo. This isn’t a game; we’re restarting a business here. What could they do?’

  Carlo shook his head; he knew that Randy was correct. ‘Then, what can I do?’ he asked, starting to feel as if this was going to get much too big for him.

  ‘You’re the Junior Managing Director, Carlo. It’s your job to look and learn. Follow myself, Neil and Lucy around, if they come back. Watch what we do and how the factory operates, because sooner than you think, it will be you doing it.’