The Secrets of Ice Cream Success

by AD Hartley

  Randy appeared at the factory twenty minutes later to find Carlo gazing out of the window, lost in his own thoughts. He sat down across the table from him saying nothing, before eventually clearing his throat. ‘Carlo, I have something to tell you…’ he began solemnly.

  ‘I’ve already spoken to Lucy.’ Carlo interrupted, still gazing out of the window, feeling more tired than he could ever remember.

  ‘Ah.’ Randy said, ‘I was hoping to be the one who told you. What did she say?’

  ‘Not much really. Just you may have found something in the mix and I should ask you. She didn’t really want to say that much. What’s going on?’

  ‘Well as you know, every Friday we take batch samples and test them before clearing that batch for shipping. It’s normally a formality, but on this occasion we found something in the last batch of both the Vanilla and Raspberry Ripple.’

  ‘What did you find?’ Carlo asked, not really sure he wanted to know the answer.’

  ‘Cockroaches or, more precisely, bits of cockroaches.’

  ‘Oh.’ Carlo said, trying not to look too relieved it wasn’t something related to his father. ‘So that batch is ruined then?’

  ‘Yes… entirely. We can’t possibly sell it for fear other insect limbs are found. Sadly, Mr Lumsden had tried some of the Vanilla before we found the first insect and promptly threw up on Lucy when it was discovered. It was deeply regrettable.’ Carlo stifled a laugh as Randy continued. ‘But now we have three issues to resolve. Firstly, how did this happen?’

  ‘Or… who did it?’ Carlo added. ‘This factory is spotless. It can’t have been an accident.’ Randy ignored the remark.

  ‘Secondly, we now don’t have enough stock to open as planned, so we will have to completely revise the launch plan. And replacing that batch is going to take some extra funds, which I’m afraid we don’t have right now, further limiting our launch. And finally, and this is potentially the biggest problem, I’ve double-checked the batch tests from the week before and there’s a good chance procedural errors were made during the tests.’

  Carlo looked blank. ‘What?’ he asked.

  ‘I think one of the new guys screwed up again and the previous week’s test wasn’t completed properly so at least one batch may have been shipped untested. There may not be anything wrong with it, but considering what happened this weekend we can’t be sure. But imagine what would happen if that batch is tainted too and was sold? The public would never trust us again!’

  Carlo now understood where Randy had been over the previous few days. The possibility that some of their stock may be tainted and already on its way to stores in time for the launch could be the last straw for their hopes. ‘How do we find out?’ Carlo asked, beginning to feel as sick as if he had eaten some of the spoilt ice cream himself.

  ‘We need to find every crate of that batch and destroy it. It’s the only way to be certain. And we have to hope it hasn’t been delivered to the stores yet.’ Randy said in a matter of fact way. Carlo could tell he was tired.

  ‘This could ruin us.’ Carlo noted.

  ‘Not if I can help it.’ Randy replied, but without much conviction. ‘But, yes… yes it could.’ he added. ‘I mean, there are people I can talk to that can help us quietly get to the bottom of this, but…’

  ‘I’m not sure I can do this anymore, Uncle Randy.’ Carlo interrupted. ‘So much has happened and we haven’t even launched yet. This could delay it even further! I start school soon… school. I haven’t even thought about that yet. I start new subjects this year.’ he finished, looking anxious.

  Randy looked at him with pity. ‘You are a very brave boy, Carlo. This was never going to be easy and you have done very well, but perhaps you’re right. Perhaps it’s best if you get out while you can.’

  Carlo nodded but said nothing.

  ‘Look, I need to make some calls and talk to Lucy. We can sort this mess out, I’m sure, but why don’t you take time to think on it?’

  Carlo smiled for appearances, but left feeling downhearted. As he walked through the factory watching the staff prepare for the day, he felt certain that he’d come to the end of his Ice Cream adventure and as nice as Randy was being, Carlo could tell he was disappointed with the way things had being going. Carlo was tired and frustrated but knew that despite being the owner it was Randy who would feel the brunt of any negative press. It was a mess and Carlo knew it was, in many ways, his fault. He should never have decided to re-launch the factory; he just wasn’t up to the task.

  Carlo felt a gurgle in his stomach, the familiar anxious feeling that had often found him as he had grown up. He wanted to tell everyone how sorry he was that he had got them into this position, raised their hopes only to show them how inadequate he was, but no one else in the factory would listen, considering him to be either the boss, just a child or, confusingly for them, both. Even Ben, Abi, Norton and Newton wouldn’t understand the complete dejection he was now feeling. He’d taken on his father’s business and had failed. He wanted to scream; he wanted someone listen to his frustrations, but who was there to listen?

  But then he had a thought. A wild idea. Maybe there was someone he could talk to. Carlo ran the length of the factory, past Mr Lumsden who span round 360 degrees as Carlo whizzed past him. He skirted the edge of the vans, bounded through the door at the far end of the building and took the stairs downwards three at a time coming to a halt only as he hit the door to the basement study. He took out his keys and carefully slid the correct one into the lock, being as quiet as he could. He unlocked the door and entered the room as noiselessly as possible as if trying not to disturb a sleeping child. Once inside he gently closed the door and tiptoed to the desk, taking a seat. Putting his hands flat on the desk either side of the diary he took a deep breath to steady his nerves and then asked out loud in as strong a voice as he could manage, ‘Dad… are you in here?’

  The Last Leodoni?

  ‘Dad… are you in here?’

  Nothing

  ‘Dad?’

  Carlo looked around the room but saw nothing out of the ordinary. The clock wasn’t spinning around, the book wasn’t moving and the temperature was perfectly pleasant. He was certain now that something supernatural was dwelling in this room and even more convinced that the voice they had heard previously was his father’s. But could the spirit of Luigi Leodoni really be haunting his old study?

  ‘Dad? Look, I know something is in here. It’s you isn’t it, Dad?’

  ‘No, it’s not.’ said a voice that seemed to come from all corners of the room. ‘No, it’s not me. Damn! I mean him… It’s not him!’

  ‘What?... wait… Dad?’ Carlo shouted, jumping from his seat and spinning around, trying to find the source of the voice.

  ‘No… look, it’s not. Just go away!’ the voice continued, sounding if anything more embarrassed than scary.

  ‘Dad! It’s me!’ Carlo shouted, running to the far wall trying to focus on the voice.

  ‘I know who it is! Do you think I don’t know who it is?’ the voice replied, ‘Just leave me alone!’ it whined.

  ‘Luigi Armando Leodoni! You just cut out this nonsense right away and listen to me!’ Carlo shouted at the room in frustration. There was a long silence as his words echoed away followed by what Carlo recognised as the kind of insolent sniff that Norton specialised in after a telling off.

  ‘Well… no need to take that sort of tone.’ the voice sulked.

  ‘Sorry.’

  ‘I mean, it’s not easy being dead.’

  ‘Yes… again, sorry.’

  ‘..people constantly coming in and messing around with your stuff, just because you’re dead…’ the voice droned on.

  ‘Dad!’ Carlo shouted again, trying to regain Luigi’s focus.

  ‘What?’

  ‘You’re, y’know… a ghost?’

  ‘Well, yes.’ the ghost of Luigi answered. ‘At least I think so. There was no induction or handover to the role and I’ll be blasted if I can find a m
anual.’

  Carlo sat back down in stunned silence. He had hoped, certainly, but this was incredible; almost unbelievable, yet here he was talking to his father once more. He felt a lump in his throat as he tried to find his voice and realised his breathing was shallow. There was an ache in his chest, a deep mix of longing and loss and he realised he felt a curious urge to laugh. He felt like an entire bucket load of emotions had been thrown over him and he had no idea how to react. Tears began to form in his eyes and he self-consciously wiped them away with the back of his sleeve and took a few deep breaths.

  ‘Where are you?’ Carlo asked, slowly looking around the room seeing none of the previous indicators of a ghostly presence. But then the chair on the opposite side of the desk wheeled slightly backwards and then pulled itself back directly in front of him as if someone had just sat down.

  ‘I’m here.’ his father said from the seat as slowly a white mist formed above the chair, gently turning in on itself until there was a vague shape sat opposite Carlo, which, as the seconds passed, resolved itself into a recognisable human form and eventually a man with kind eyes and a sad smile. As Carlo watched the figure took on bleached colours like an old faded photograph, his hair was slight brown, his jacket grey, his face the tanned colour of a youth spent in long Mediterranean summers.

  ‘Hello, son.’ Luigi Leodoni said, gently.

  Carlo forgot all pretence and openly wept as he saw his father once more sat in his study. ‘I’ve missed you.’ he said, wiping his eyes again.

  ‘I’ve missed you too.’ Luigi replied.

  For a few minutes Carlo was unable to say anything as he tried to take in what was happening, but he eventually composed himself and smiled back at his father who was sat quietly opposite him. ‘How…? When…? What…?’ Carlo started, but was unable to find the right question amongst the many battling in his mind to be the first said aloud. Finally he gave in trying to get his thoughts together. ‘Geez, Dad, you’re a ghost?!’ he exclaimed, half laughing. Luigi nodded causing particles of his ghostly self to stream off his head as it moved before settling back in their correct place. ‘And you’ve been here all this time, since, y’know, that day?’

  ‘I don’t know. I’m not sure it works like that. I don’t remember when I first realised I was back and it’s not like I’m here constantly in this room. I have strange feelings about you and I feel very connected to this room. If I concentrate I can sustain myself or when you and your friends were here that somehow made me feel present, as if I gained shape from your energy. But the rest of the time, I’m not sure. I guess I just cease to be, in a physical sense at least. Time doesn’t really have much use for me anymore, nor I for it.’

  ‘What?’ Carlo laughed.

  Luigi shrugged. ‘You start to get funny ideas when the existence of an afterlife is confirmed to you by your very death.’ Noticing the confused look on his son’s face, Luigi moved on quickly. ‘Anyway… Why did you come down here looking for me? You walked in like you were expecting to see me sat behind the desk!’

  ‘Hoping...’ Carlo replied. ‘I was feeling pretty down and just felt like talking to you. And after the last time I was here, well, you weren’t very subtle and I recognised your voice. Scared the life out of Norton!’ he laughed. ‘Well, all of us in fact.’

  ‘Yes, well, you lot wouldn’t leave my diary alone, would you.’ Luigi replied, ‘Always snooping!’ he harrumphed, crossing his arms. ‘So, why are you grumpy?’

  ‘I’ve had enough, Dad. I’m tired. I don’t want to run the factory anymore.’ Carlo said.

  ‘You’re doing what!?’ Luigi shouted, his ghostly particles racing to catch up as he leant forward to grab the desk.

  ‘I’m running the factory.’ Carlo repeated.

  ‘Wait, what year is this?’ Luigi asked, looking slightly more relieved as something occurred to him ‘How old are you? Twenty… twenty two?’

  ‘Fourteen.’

  ‘You’re what?!’ he shouted getting over excited once more.

  ‘Oh, will you calm down! This was your idea!’ Carlo said.

  ‘What do you mean this was my idea?’

  ‘You put it in your will.’

  ‘Did I?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Oh. I don’t remember doing that.’

  ‘I can show you if you want?’

  ‘No, no… I believe you. It’s just that I don’t remember quite a lot of things, about my life I mean. There’re big gaps; but then I remember some things and others I forget. Fourteen, huh?’ Carlo nodded. Luigi shook his head in disbelief. ‘I’m sorry, son. I didn’t mean for this to happen. I expected to hang around a little longer than I did. I certainly didn’t imagine that Last Will and Testament would be read until you were well into your twenties at the earliest. No wonder you’re fed up.’

  ‘S’ok really. Uncle Randy does most of it. I’m just learning from him, but things just keep going wrong.’

  ‘Randy’s here with you?’ Luigi asked, looking a little concerned.

  ‘Yeah, he’s basically in charge, why?’

  Luigi looked like he was trying to remember something, but couldn’t quite pull the thought from his scrambled memory. ‘I guess that’s good.’ he said, vaguely looking down at his diary. ‘Yes, it’s good.’ he shrugged, looking back at Carlo with a smile.

  ‘Well, not really. I made a real mess of things.’ Carlo said and went on to tell his father everything that had happened since the day his Will had been read. He didn’t mean to, but once he started the entire story flowed out of him. Luigi made encouraging noises regarding his family’s desire for Carlo to move to Italy, indignant snorts when Carlo mentioned Mr Hill trying to buy the factory and a victorious shout when he found Carlo had stood up to him, thumping his fist on the desk in triumph, or more correctly, gliding his fist through the desk in silence.

  Luigi was sympathetic to the issues Carlo and Randy had faced getting things back up and running, surprised so few of the original staff had returned and visibly angry when Carlo mentioned Neil amongst them, especially when he finished his tale with the recent cockroach contamination scare.

  ‘I knew it! That snake in the grass!’ he shouted, jumping to his feet and walking through the chair behind him as he remonstrated to the room in general.

  ‘What do you mean?’ Carlo asked, shocked at his Dad’s anger.

  ‘It’s Neil, don’t you see? Neil sabotaged the stock!’

  Carlo looked dubious. ‘How do you know that?’ he asked.

  ‘Because he tried it before! Look, I need to tell you something, something that might upset you. Before your mother died, when she was ill, we made a decision that in hindsight was a bit stupid. She wanted to be remembered; we wanted her to still be a part of the business after she had gone, so we decided…’

  ‘…to put her ashes in the ice cream.’ Carlo groaned. ‘Yes, Dad. I know this already. I’m trying my best to forget about it, thanks all the same.

  ‘You know?’

  ‘Yes! You told me the day you died!’

  ‘I did?’

  ‘Yes! I don’t know why you just couldn’t name an ice cream flavour after her or something.’ Carlo grumbled.

  ‘Well, perhaps we shouldn’t dwell on that episode.’ Luigi said, noting his son’s mood. ‘The point is, someone knew and in the weeks before that day they had leaked the information to the authorities and we were being investigated! Hang on!’ Luigi interrupted himself. ‘What happened during the investigation?

  ‘There was no investigation, Dad.’ Carlo answered. ‘The claims were withdrawn the day of your funeral.’

  ‘What? That doesn’t make sense. Why would Neil withdraw them?’

  ‘I don’t understand why you think it was Neil, Dad.’ Carlo said.’ I thought you always liked him?’

  ‘I did. He was with us from the beginning, but he was never satisfied with his position and he was always frustrated that Randy was given more responsibility.’

  ‘But it doesn’t make
sense.’

  ‘Of course it does. I was putting something quite dodgy in the ice cream and when he found out, his loyalties weren’t with me.’ Luigi sighed. ‘I guess I don’t blame him really.’

  ‘How do you know he found out? You said no one knew.’

  ‘The claims against us were very specific. A dangerous ingredient was being used in the manufacturing process and needed to be investigated. What else could it be? Who else would have reported it?’

  Carlo shrugged. He really didn’t know.

  ‘So Neil is sabotaging the Factory again? How’s he doing it?’ Luigi mused.

  ‘Cockroaches in the mix.’ Carlo answered. ‘But that could be anything, it’s a big factory. I guess they could have naturally got in there.’

  ‘Get away!’ Luigi admonished, ‘Cockroaches in my factory?’ Never in a million years. In all the years you spent here did you ever see one roach? One rat? Hmmm?’

  ‘Well… no, but…’

  ‘Exactly! Sabotage. It was Neil again.’

  Carlo felt he was losing control of the discussion somewhat. ‘What do you mean, again? Even if it was Neil last time, he wasn’t sabotaging the factory. If anything, you were.’

  ‘Come on, son. He was willingly advising the authorities of something that would have shut us down… that’s sabotage! And he’s doing it again! I’ll haunt him so bad, just you wait!’

  ‘I don’t know. I think we should wait until Uncle Randy has looked into things, then we can decide if we need to, err… haunt anyone.’

  Luigi sagged a little, anger drifting away from him. ‘I guess you’re right.’ he reluctantly agreed. ‘In the meantime, what are we going to do about you?’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Carlo asked.