The Secrets of Ice Cream Success

by AD Hartley

  ‘Where is Norton?’ Ben asked, noticing his friend was missing.

  ‘Probably on the other side of the fair, assuming he stopped running after Herbert chased him.’

  ‘Why was Herbert chasing him, Newton?’ Abi asked.

  ‘I think I know where this is going.’ Carlo said, handing over an ice cream to the last person in the queue.

  ‘What?’ asked Ben. ‘What did he do?’

  Newton coughed to clear his throat as if he didn’t really want to say. ‘He, err… took the cockroachy ice cream and walked around the back of the Hill’s van to stand next to it as if he bought the ice cream from them. Then he screamed, shouted “cockroach” and dropped the cone so everyone could see the insect in the ice cream puddle.’

  Ben whooped with joy as Newton looked embarrassed.

  ‘Well they were cheating and we wanted to get rid of that queue of “ringers” he brought in. And he never actually said it was a Hill’s ice cream. He just, sort of implied it.’

  ‘You sneaky bugger.’ Mr Leodoni said, proudly, before realising Lumsden was still with them and who was now looking around the van confused.

  ‘Right!’ Carlo shouted, trying to cover his father’s slip. ‘Ben, go and find Norton and bring him back. Abi, Newton, stay and help Lumsden. I’m going to go and see what mess we’re in now.’ he finished, looking over his shoulder to where Herbert was still glaring at them through the hatch.

  ‘Hi.’ Carlo said, walking up to Herbert.

  Herbert looked ready to burst with rage, his face red and his eyes bulging. ‘You cheated!’ he hissed. ‘If we weren’t here…’ he said, indicating the park and the many potential witnesses, ‘I would pummel you so hard!’

  ‘I admit,’ Carlo replied, ignoring the threat, ‘that Norton was a bit rash. And I apologise. But when you consider that he was only trying to counter your cheating…’ he finished with a shrug, letting the sentence hang in the air.

  Herbert looked stunned. ‘What cheating? We didn’t cheat!’ he stammered, trying to sound innocently offended and failing.

  ‘The bus load of people you dropped at your van and gave free ice creams to.’ Carlo supplied with a smile.

  Herbert started to stutter a denial, but Carlo held up his hand to stop him. ‘Look, we could stand here and complain about who did what, but why don’t we just leave it as it is and finish the day. The only people who saw Norton’s prank were the ones you brought here anyway, so no harm done. And I won’t mention the bus.’

  Carlo knew that Herbert had the better of the deal having already given a number of cones away before Norton scared them off, but he was keen to end the day without incident, especially as he noticed a new arrival behind Herbert.

  He held out his hand. ‘What do you say, Herbert? Shall we move on?’

  Herbert stared at Carlo, looking disgusted at the thought. ‘I’m not shaking hands with you!’ he said.

  ‘You might want to rethink that.’ Carlo said, indicating that Herbert should look behind to where Mr Hill had arrived and was walking towards them followed by a camera crew.

  Herbert swore and stuck out his hand. With a fixed grin he shook hands with Carlo, gripping unnecessarily hard, before turning to greet his employer.

  ‘That’s what I like to see!’ Mr Hill brayed for the benefit of the camera. ‘Camaraderie in competition!’

  Mr Hill continued to ramble on to the interviewer as he took Herbert about the shoulders and introduced him to the camera. Carlo took his opportunity to make a quick exit to the safety of the Leodoni’s van.

  As the day and the competition drew to a close, it became clear that it was going to be very close. Business had been brisk throughout the day for both teams and despite the mid-afternoon shenanigans regarding busloads of ringers, ghostly goings-on and insect laden ice cream, the day had been a relative success. Leodoni’s was certainly back and the public seemed happy.

  Just after three o’clock the town mayor arrived and made a big fuss of greeting Mr Hill in front of the cameras before offering Carlo a half-hearted handshake. It was obvious to all that he and Mr Hill were old friends and the gang sensed that this did not bode well for their chances.

  ‘We’re going to lose.’ Ben said, watching the two old men chortling in front of the media.

  ‘You don’t know that.’ Carlo said. ‘I’m sure the Mayor will be fair.’

  As they watched the Mayor accepted a huge Hill’s Ice Cream cone from Herbert and made a comic display of it being too big to fit in his mouth as photographer from the local papers snapped away happily.

  ‘We’re going to lose.’ Abi echoed her brother. Carlo didn’t even bother to reply. He knew she was probably right.

  ‘I never liked him.’ Luigi grumped from somewhere near the ceiling of the van. ‘Can I Ice Cream him?’

  ‘No.’ Carlo said automatically. ‘Well… perhaps.’ He amended.

  With the afternoon of the first town fair in fifteen years drawing on, there were still plenty of customers to be found and most were stood politely waiting at the Leodoni’s van, despite a rather despondent Mr Jones hanging out of Hill’s hatch trying to attract the attention of a few passing fair goers. As the final minutes before four o’clock counted down, Lumsden and Carlo continued to serve as many people as possible whilst the rest of the gang stood outside watching the hearty backslapping and unnecessarily loud laughing that was taking place across the way. The Hill’s van team seemed to have given up actually serving ice cream in favour of cavorting with the mayor who had at one point taken Mr Hill and Herbert on a tour of some of the carnival rides in order to get some “juicy photo ops”. They seemed all smiles as they returned with a matter of seconds remaining as the Mayor hopped onto a small podium that had been erected between the two competing vans and made a big show of counting down the final 10 seconds of the competition to the small crowd that had gathered.

  Carlo handed out the last ice cream of the day as the Mayor shouted ‘Three… two… one!’ and looked at Lumsden who inspected the ice cream machine carefully and turned back to his employer with a grin on his face.

  ‘Almost eleven litres.’ he said, giving a thumbs up.

  Carlo did some quick calculations. The machine could hold twelve litres and had been refilled twice during the day. ‘Nearly thirty five!’ he said, happily.

  ‘That’ssss good going for one day!’ Lunsden acknowledged, shaking Carlo’s hand.

  Lumsden busied himself wiping down the van as Carlo jumped to find his father, fully visible, peeking around the bonnet to see what was going on at the podium. The Mayor was making at very tedious speech about the success of the fair, which touched frequently on his own record in office.

  ‘Dad, someone will see you!’ Carlo said, standing next to Mr Leodoni.

  ‘Shhh! I’m listening.’

  ‘But Dad!’ Carlo protested, only to be waved into silence once more.

  Looking around, Carlo was thankful to see that no one was behind them, with all eyes on the Mayor and Lumsden too busy inside the van to notice. Shrugging he joined his father as the Mayor droned on.

  ‘…of course, both of these great companies are local institutions, serving the good people of this county and beyond the Nation’s best ice cream through the decades. My good friend Mr Hill opened his first business serving his Ice Cream in the 1960s and he and I have shared a tub of Hill’s best raspberry ripple on many occasions down the years.’ He smiled indulgently at Mr Hill.

  ‘I bet you have.’ grumbled Luigi, making Carlo laugh.

  ‘And our good friends at Leodoni’s have been operating even longer.’ the Mayor continued.

  ‘Good friends?’ Luigi muttered.

  ‘I remember enjoying Leodoni’s Ice Cream as a youngster.’ The Mayor said, motioning to where Ben, Abi, Norton and Newton were standing in front of the van, with Lumsden leaning through hatch. ‘Many people will know that the very first Leodoni’s ice cream parlour opened in 1922 and, apart for a short period recently…’ the mayo
r said with a strange smile and what appeared to be a wink at Mr Hill. ‘have stood the test of time extremely well, passing down the reigns of control from Grandfather, to father to Son.’

  ‘Did you see that?’ Carlo asked his Dad, who was seething next to him. Noticing the look on his father’s face, he decided it was time to make an appearance. ‘Look I’m going over. You just stay here and be… less visible.’ he finished indicating Luigi’s presence.

  His father looked as if he was going to argue, but then sighed and nodded agreement. Carlo went to pat him on the back in understanding, but found his hand drifting through his father’s shoulder, so coughed as if nothing had happened and strode past, around the van and towards podium to whoops and applause from the Leodoni’s team.

  ‘Ah, I see we have both owners present now. So I think it’s time to collect the results.’ the Mayor said, motioning to one of his staff who immediately strode to each van, taking time to study the sales figures and vending machines in each before making a note and returning to podium where he handed the results back to Mayor.

  The Mayor took the paper, flourished it in front of him and drew himself up to his full, if not very impressive, height. ‘The results of the competition are as follows. Hill’s Ice Cream, represented here by Mr Haverton Hill, have today sold thirty three and a quarter litres of vanilla soft scoop ice cream!’

  A polite round of applause rippled around the crowd, many of whom had gathered without really knowing what they were watching. Carlo looked over to his team to see Abi and Newton clapping politely, whilst Ben steadfastly refused to do so and Norton merely looked bored. Lumsden, however, had a smile on his face and threw a wink at Carlo. “He knows we’ve won” Carlo thought to himself, trying not to smile. He gave Lumsden a little nod and turned back to the Mayor.

  ‘Leodoni’s Ice Cream, represented here by Master Giancarlo Leodoni, have today sold thirty four and a half litres of ice cream.’

  There was a slight pause as everyone caught up with the Mayor’s pronouncement before a huge shout erupted from Lumsden, Abi, Newton and Ben, before finally being joined by Norton who had initially struggled with the maths and finally gave in assuming the cheers were a sign of victory.

  Carlo gave a slight wave to acknowledge the cheers and polite applause from the crowd before beckoning his team to silence with his hands and a smile. He was determined not to let Mr Hill see him acting in anything but a professional manner.

  ‘So I believe this make’s Leodoni’s the winner of today’s fun competition.’ the Mayor continued, ‘And I am to understand there was a penalty for losing? Haverton, my old friend, it seems you are to be… err, dunked?’

  Mr Hill attempted a smile but couldn’t really hide a grimace at the thought of the impending loss of dignity.

  ‘Your Lordship, if I may?’ Carlo asked stepping towards the podium.

  The Mayor nodded as the gang looked on slightly confused, whilst Carlo whispered something to the Mayor who eventually nodded again and beamed at the crowd.

  ‘Excellent news!’ he brayed. ‘In the spirit of fun and solidarity with his fellows in the Ice Cream Community, Master Leodoni has offered to also take a good dunking!’

  Carlo bowed to the crowd as his friends started cheering again.

  ‘I now have to go and judge the “Largest Turnip” competition, but I shall see you all at the fairground in thirty minutes. Hard luck, Haverton.’ The mayor finished shaking hands with his friend before bustling away, still followed by a herd of journalists.

  Carlo happened to glance at Mr Hill as the crowd dispersed and found the older man staring intently at him. ‘Well played, sir,’ Carlo said, offering his hand, ‘I think we can claim today as a success for both companies.’

  Mr Hill looked at Carlo’s hand with distaste, as if being offered a dead fish, before turning and striding back to his employees bellowing for Herbert to attend him.

  ‘Not so friendly when the cameras aren’t around.’ Carlo mused, and with a shrug set off back to his team only to find them rushing towards him sporting huge grins.

  ‘We won!’ screamed Newton and Abi.

  ‘You’re going to get dunked!’ shouted Ben and Norton.

  Lumsden strolled up behind them and took Carlo’s hand in a firm grip, shaking it enthusiastically. ‘Great job, Sssssir. Great job! I think your Dad would be very proud.’

  Carlo beamed at the attention and happened to glance up to see a piece of paper floating oddly above the van with the words “We Won” scrawled across it in large letters. Hoping that anyone who noticed it would mistake it for a piece of paper caught in a slightly strange breeze, Carlo grinned back at his Lumsden. ‘I think he is, yes.’

  Not long after everyone gathered at the fairground to witness the dunking. The apparatus itself was an old piece of equipment consisting of a chair hung over a large wooden tub filled with what the operator, Mr Gardener, called “gunge”, a green substance which he assured was mainly corn-starch, water and food dye, though Norton suggested, and probably hoped, there were some less savoury ingredients in there.

  The chair was suspended over the tub by a large metal arm, which in turn was part of a mechanism that was activated when a target to the left of the tub was hit cleanly with a heavy sack ball. Only a direct hit would cause the chair to tip forward, ejecting the occupant into the tub of gunge. Behind the chair and tub the hydraulic apparatus disappeared through a hole cut in large plywood screen with the words Gardener’s Gunge Tank painted on it in bright colours, which prevented the customers seeing or indeed hitting the expensive equipment that powered the chair.

  Ben and Norton had to be restrained from investigating the tub further as the crowd gathered and the Mayor smiled his way to the front where, what Abi had christened his “Swiss Army Travel Podium”, had once again been erected from out of nowhere. He raised his hands towards the sky to request silence and noticing only a slight dampening of the revelry, he coughed loudly, before one of his aides shouted ‘Quiet Please!’ to finally achieve a semblance of attention.

  The Mayor then took the opportunity of an audience to drone on about the success of the day, a speech he had given on three previous occasions already when judging the Largest Turnip, Cutest baby and Most Comical Hat competitions, all three of which had apparently been entered by Mrs Lumsden and their young child.

  The opposing Ice Cream teams stood to either side of the Mayor awaiting their introduction whilst Mr Gardener stood proudly next to his machine, beaming like George Stephenson next to his Rocket Locomotive, but a lot less impressive. Occasionally the gunge bubbled ominously.

  The Mayor finally moved on to the competition and described the day in thoroughly tedious detail before bringing everyone’s attention to the final score and the decision that both Carlo and Mr Hill would subsequently be dunked. This brought a large cheer from the crowd who were beginning to grow bored and two dunkings were better than one.

  Mr Hill, shadowed by Herbert was joined at the podium by Carlo as The Mayor flipped a coin, asking Mr Hill to call a side as it span in the air.

  ‘Heads!’ he barked as the coin arced and fell, bouncing off the outstretched hand of the Mayor and landing in the well-trodden dirt, tails up. Mr Hill glared at the Mayor as if this was his fault.

  ‘So, Master Leodoni, you win the toss, so I believe Mr Hill will be the first…’

  ‘I volunteer!’ Carlo interrupted, sensing a “Final Straw” moment on the horizon with Mr Hill having already lost the competition. Carlo decided to spare him the worry of being the first to be dunked seeing his face grow redder and temper rising. Mr Hill nodded and grunted an acknowledgement that may have been a grateful thanks had he not followed it with a baleful stare at Carlo. The Mayor, deciding to ignore his old friend’s mood, clapped his hands together and said ‘Shall we?’ to Carlo, steering the young man towards Mr Gardener who was still beaming away.

  The seat of the dunking machine was lowered to the floor by Mr Gardener and Carlo hopped on, giving his t
eam a thumbs up. The hydraulics kicked in at the press of a button and the chair slowly swung into position above the gunge tank. Although only around six feet in the air, Carlo still had a good view as a crowd gathered to watch with both the Leodoni’s and Hill’s teams front and centre alongside the Mayor, who took the opportunity to pose in front of Carlo urging him to smile for the cameras. Carlo had a feeling that he would not try for the same shot once Mr Hill was sat there.

  The Mayor shuffled the Hill’s team to the front of the group, took a basket from Mr Gardener and handed it to Herbert who looked at the balls inside and then up at Carlo with a look of mixed menace and glee. Herbert put the basket down on a line ten meters from the target and picked up a ball, hefting it in his hand to check the weight as Mr Hill and Mr Jones stood next to him looking less than thrilled at the attention.

  ‘OK, three shots each, gentlemen.’ The Mayor shouted. ‘In your own time, take it away!’

  Herbert stepped back to offer his employer the first shot, but Mr Hill bustled Herbert back to the front, wanting to get the entire debacle over and done with. ‘This was your idea, you do it!’ he huffed pushing the boy forward. Herbert seemed perfectly happy to oblige and stepped up to the line. With a nonchalant nod at Carlo, he pulled back his arm and sent the ball flying high over the top of the entire dunking apparatus, landing with a splash in the “Hook-a-Duck” stall behind, scattering rubber ducks and eliciting a confused “Oi!” from the man running the stall who was trying to see where the rogue missile had come from. The Leodoni’s team joined the crowd in laughter, booing and catcalling as Herbert, muttering about the first attempt being a “Tester”, bent down to select another ball.

  ‘One at a time, please.’ Mr Gardener said, indicating that Herbert should step back and let the rest of his team take a turn first.