The Secrets of Ice Cream Success

by AD Hartley

  Up ahead Ben seemed to be having fun as Herbert tried his best to extricate himself from the situation. He released Norton who fell to the floor. Herbert tried to look relaxed but seemed to ease into a pained pose of casual terror as the younger boy grinned back at him. Herbert swung his arms by his side as if he was just out for a stroll, but looked equally as awkward as Norton had mere moments before when trying to pull of the same relaxed posture.

  ‘’Sup?’ Ben asked, a one word question laced with menace that made Herbert take a step back.

  ‘Yeah, you think you’re all big and hard when you’ve got your friends with you, Teesdale!’ Herbert said, falling back on one of the playground classics.

  Ben looked stung. ‘Him?’ he asked, incredulous, ‘How rude! To suggest I wouldn’t be able to take you if Norton weren’t here.’

  Norton realised he was at risk of becoming the centre of the conversation and scrambled towards Carlo’s hiding place on all fours.

  ‘…and now he’s not here.’ Ben added with a smile, as Herbert scanned the area and realised Norton had disappeared.

  ‘Look, I wasn’t really gonna thump him. He was just in my way, is all.’ Herbert said, reaching behind and trying to find the car door handle.

  Having known Ben since the age of four Carlo recognised some of the signs on show and groaned, realising that Ben may take things a step too far. Not an aggressive lad by nature, Ben’s protective attitude to his friends and family had led him to many similar situations down the years and while the usual refrain of “Well, he started it” may often have been true, it carried less weight now the boys were older with Ben expected to restrain his urge to jump to the defence of those he cared about by bouncing the aggressors head off the pavement.

  It had been some time since Ben’s last brush with combat when he had jumped in to stop a number of older students who were teasing Carlo not long after Mr Leodoni had passed away. The heated dressing down Mr and Mrs Teesdale had received from Ben’s Head teacher, Mr Gorman, who had been fully prepared to bring the police into the matter, had been passed down the line to Ben who was left in no uncertain terms that he was on his last warning and had taken it to heart enough to let his reputation do the talking for him during a confrontation rather than his fists.

  Unwilling to let his friend undo all that good work and walk into more trouble on his account, Carlo stuffed the recently retrieved folder into Norton’s hands and crept onto the pavement to make it look like he was merely wandering down this street and happened upon this strange scene.

  ‘Ben!’ Carlo called. ‘Hello, mate. Fancy meeting you here.’ he said having jumped up from behind a car farther down the street.

  Herbert span around looking thoroughly confused by the continuous appearance and disappearance of these insufferable people outside his house during lunch. ‘Bah!’ he exclaimed in frustration, throwing his hands in the air, ‘What are you doing here?! I’m getting sick of this!’

  ‘Now, now, Herbert. Play nicely.’ Ben said, just as Herbert took as step towards the advancing Carlo.

  ‘Why are you Leodoni fools bothering me? Just leave me alone!’

  Carlo, who was fully intending to extract his friend from the coming fight and leave, suddenly felt irritated by Herbert’s claims that he was the victim. ‘Hey, you’re the one that was in “MY” factory earlier staring at me and acting all big behind Hill! You’re the one who throws threats my way whenever you see me!’

  ‘Well you lot at Leodoni’s are idiots, that’s why! Mr Hill’s the best man in town. The Leodoni’s have always been fools!’

  ‘Now, hang on a second!’ Ben said, stepping forward, making Herbert slide up against the black car. ‘What sort of thing is that to say? How would you know anything about the Leodonis? You’re 17! Admittedly you’ve obviously eaten a lot of ice cream in your time, but that doesn’t make you an expert on their family history!’

  ‘Mr Hill and my Uncle have told me all I need to know!’ Herbert shouted back. ‘Nothing but a bunch of losers! And I would never eat a Leodoni’s Ice Cream…unless I wanted to be sick!’ he added, sounding pleased with the insult.

  Unexpectedly an irate moon popped up from behind the car and launched itself towards the argument. ‘How dare you say that about our Ice Cream!’ Norton shouted, ‘How dare you!’

  Ben and Carlo looked at each other in genuine surprise. Whilst their friend often talked big, if there was the slightest suggestion of personal danger he normally steered away from confrontation at all costs in favour of cowering behind something, yet it seemed Herbert had crossed a line. You could clearly say what you wanted about Norton, but woe betides the man who slandered Norton’s Ice Cream!

  Herbert was clearly dumfounded as this irate apparition appeared before him having only disappeared moments before. Carlo bounded across to intercept his friend who, despite Ben’s presence, was in danger of saying something that would get him punched, while Ben was trying not to laugh at his friend’s indignation.

  ‘You lot are nutters, y’know! No wonder you went out of business. Who would buy stuff made by mentalists!’ Herbert said, fumbling for the door handle of the car.’

  ‘Yeah? YEAH?’ Norton screamed trying to break free of Carlo’s grasp. ‘Well I bet we sell more ice cream than you!’

  ‘I bet you don’t!’

  ‘I bet we do!’

  Carlo pulled Norton away in an effort to halt what had descended into a fairly pointless shouting match when suddenly an idea occurred to Norton which, as always, was voiced as soon as it was formed without any prior vetting.

  ‘The town fair!’ Norton shouted, struggling out of Carlo’s arms. ‘The town fair! I bet we sell more ice cream than Hill’s at the town fair!’

  This suggestion stumped everyone until Ben started nodding in agreement. ‘Yeah.’ he said, putting his arm around Norton’s shoulders. ‘I bet we do!’

  ‘Woah, hang on a second lads.’ Carlo said, stepping in front of his friends. ‘Think about it. We haven’t even launched. What are you doing?’

  ‘Haha! Scared, Leodoni?’ Herbert smirked.

  ‘No we’re not bloody scared! You’ll see!’ Norton started again, heading back towards Herbert, with Ben behind pulling his t-shirt to slow his progress.

  ‘What’s the bet, then?’ Herbert asked.

  ‘The loser gets dunked!’ Ben shouted abruptly, remembering the previous night’s newspaper where a dunking machine had been mentioned as one of the attractions at the fair. ‘Whoever loses sits on the machine while the other company gets a turn each to throw a ball and try to dunk him!’

  ‘Done!’ said Herbert, getting into the car. ‘Prepare to be dunked, losers!’

  ‘Yeah, well, prepare to…’ but Herbert slammed the door, started the engine and sped off before Norton could think of something he should prepare for. ‘Gah! You stupid… Herbert!’ he finished lamely.

  The three boys turned to leave but stopped sharply as they noticed someone stood at the front door of Herbert’s house looking thoroughly confused. ‘Hi, Mrs Fitzherbert.’ the friends chorused together before speedily walking towards their bikes.

  ‘Eeeh, Norton lad. I didn’t know you had it in you.’ Ben said, laughing as they pushed their bikes away.

  ‘Of cause you did.’ Carlo added, ‘Every flavour and lots of it.’

  Ben laughed even more as Norton grumbled. ‘No one makes fun of good ice cream!’

  ‘Are you deranged, boy?!’ Mr Leodoni shouted, floating around Carlo’s room in circles having just heard the full account from the boys. ‘What if we lose?’

  ‘Carlo gets dunked.’ Ben replied, with a shrug. ‘Big deal.’

  ‘Big deal? BIG DEAL? This isn’t just about being dunked! Here we are attempting to restart the bloomin’ company and you two cut a deal that could well brand us as “The Losers” on the first bloody day! It’s a marketing disaster!’

  ‘Ah.’ Ben said, as he saw Luigi’s point. ‘Yeah, there is that.’

  ‘Dad. Can
you stop spinning please, you’re making me dizzy.’ Carlo said, throwing bags of crisps to other four, one passing through his father’s stomach as he orbited the room in agitation.

  ‘It might not be as bad as that, who’s really going to know?’ Newton asked, opening his crisps. ‘I mean, is Herbert really going to tell Mr Hill?’

  ‘You think this might all just be forgotten?’ Carlo asked, feeling relieved.

  ‘But what if it’s not?’ Mr Leodoni added, floating down to hover next to Carlo and looking mournfully at the crisps as Ben absentmindedly offered him one.

  ‘Then we go on the offensive.’ Abi said, sitting up straight and looking at the others. ‘We make a big deal about it. Tell people. Call the papers. Make posters.’

  ‘It will generate more publicity for the launch.’ Luigi acknowledged. ‘But again, what if we lose?’

  ‘Simple.’ Carlo said, looking resolute. ‘We don’t lose!

  The gang crunched on their crisps thoughtfully and Carlo could tell that at least two of them were thinking of ways to cheat.

  ‘Fairly.’ he added. Ben and Norton groaned.

  ‘Hang on a second.’ Ben said, sitting up. ‘What about the folder?’

  ‘What folder?’ Norton asked, his mouth full of crisps.

  ‘The folder we followed Herbert to get, you muppet!’

  ‘Oh, yeah.’ Norton said with a shrug.

  Carlo fished the folder from his bag having forgotten about it on the journey home, too involved with talking about the coming town fair. He opened it up and withdrew a sheet of paper looking at one side then flipping it over before crumpling it up with an audible sigh.

  ‘Empty,’ he said.

  ‘So Mr Hill took the evidence out before we got it?’ Norton asked, retrieving the paper Carlo had thrown on the floor in frustration and inspecting it just in case.

  ‘Nah, he can’t have.’ Ben said. ‘We saw him get out of the car empty handed.’

  ‘So Herbert took it?’ Norton asked.

  ‘No one took it, Norton. There was never any evidence.’ Carlo said, despondently. ‘It was a hoax.’ He picked up a pillow and pulled it over his face, shouting into it in frustration.

  ‘Ah, and we still don’t know who spiked the stock.’ Norton exclaimed.

  ‘I think you’re missing the point that Carlo has just picked up on.’ Newton said, leaning forward.

  ‘What point?’ Norton asked, trying to keep up.

  ‘Mr Hill claimed he had evidence of a contamination that no one outside of this room, Randy, Lucy and Lumsden knew about, but there was no evidence.’

  ‘And…?’ Norton asked, no longer in the mood to make the leap himself.

  ‘It proves Hill was involved.’ Luigi supplied. ‘He’s trying to shut us down before we’ve even opened!’

  Having joked about Herbert being the perpetrator behind the spiked ice cream since it was discovered, finding Mr Hill was actually involved had somewhat shaken Carlo. A disgruntled former employee or lone idiot who didn’t like him was worrying, yet plausible. But finding that Mr Hill was in some way connected with the tampered batch was a personal attack that Carlo found hard to accept.

  Randy had taken the news of the “blank evidence” as a sign of some sort of misunderstanding and had suggested he personally try to work it out with Mr Hill, but Carlo had requested some time to think on it. Whilst Randy may not truly believe that Hill’s were out to shut down Leodoni’s forever, Carlo had no doubts that this was the case. Having called Mr Hill’s bluff regarding the evidence all Carlo could do was wait to see if Mr Hill really did say something to the authorities or press, but with the knowledge that the proof as brandished by Mr Hill was fake, Carlo’s main thoughts were surrounding the wider implications. But the only plausible answer he could come up with was that Hill’s merely didn’t want the competition another large manufacturer in the town would present, although his father never missed the opportunity to suggest there was a more personal motive, though he could never say what it was. But as Luigi liked to point out, no matter what foolish games Mr Hill was playing regarding the fake evidence, someone did still tamper with the goods!

  In the meantime, the factory had become a hive of activity as the town fair and Leodoni’s re-launch approached with Lucy running a tight efficient factory floor that had Carlo both impressed and immensely thankful for her experienced control. The rest of the gang however were focussing solely on the bet that Norton had made with Herbert, with Abi especially taking it as a personal objective to make sure they won.

  ‘What was it you called it, Carlo? Assessment?’

  ‘Appraisal.’ Carlo corrected, as they all sat in Mr Leodoni’s old study, which had now been re-named the War Room.

  ‘That’s right, appraisal.’ Abi said.

  ‘I don’t get it.’ said Norton.

  ‘During one of these appraisal thingies you’re supposed to tell your boss what you want to do for the rest of the year.’ she continued, looking at Carlo, who nodded.

  ‘Well, not exactly, but sort of.’ he acknowledged. ‘Randy said it was called “setting work related goals.”

  ‘Well, there you go. My goal is to crush Herbert underfoot!’ Abi said with a nod of finality. ‘I want it to be added in my contract.’

  ‘No, I’m not sure that sort of thing is supposed to be in there. It’s supposed to be about your work performance. He called them stretching targets.’ Carlo continued, trying to recall what Randy had told him despite not truly understanding it himself.

  ‘Stretching targets. There you go Norton, you need to be able to touch your toes by the time we go back to school.’ Ben laughed.

  ‘Not that kind of stretching!’ Carlo said!

  ‘So can I or can’t I crush Herbert?’ Abi insisted.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And do I have to touch my toes?’ Norton asked looking thoroughly aghast at the thought.

  ‘Fat chance!’ Ben said.

  ‘No.’ Carlo sighed. ‘You don’t.’

  Norton smiled until Newton spoke up, casually wiping his spectacles on his t-shirt.

  ‘It would, however, be prudent if we were all as healthy as possible for the town fair.’

  Norton’s smile vanished.

  ‘Prudent?’ Ben asked.

  ‘I think they make fruit juice.’ Abi supplied.

  ‘Oh, right.’

  ‘Well, actually…’ Newton started…

  ‘Enough!’ Luigi shouted, looking at the group in astonishment, entirely unused to the meandering babble that the group accepted as meaningful conversation. ‘How do you get anything done?’

  ‘We’re fourteen. We don’t.’ Ben answered looking apprehensive at the notion that something should be accomplished.

  Luigi shook his head and floated into the centre of the room. ‘I think the point is this. Whilst it’s true there is a personal objective behind winning this bet...’

  ‘Yes, crushing Herbert!’ Abi muttered. Luigi glared at her interruption, before smiling and nodding in agreement.

  ‘There is a secondary and in many ways more pressing element in that winning could set up the company for a huge marketing boost as we re-launch.’ The group burst into applause and cheered at this. ‘…and would most likely finish off any hope of us ever selling ice cream again if we lose.’ Luigi finished. The group’s cheers died on their lips as they sank into a gloomy silence. ‘Carlo. Over to you.’ Luigi said, floating back to the side of the room.

  ‘What? Oh, yeah.’ Carlo said, standing up. ‘OK, plan of action. Newton, you, me and Dad are going to work on the details of the bet as this will guide what we need to manufacture for the day. I suggest we contact Hills and say it’s a one on one challenge. One van each parked in the same location. Any ice cream sold from other vans doesn’t count. This way Randy and Lucy know exactly our manufacturing needs for the bet.’

  Newton and Luigi nodded at each other whilst Ben and Norton looked entirely lost.

  ‘What about us?’ Abi asked.


  ‘You three are driving the Marketing and Public relations. We want people not just to know we’re re-launching, but all about the bet too.’

  ‘The Ice Cream-Off!’ Norton shouted, excitedly.

  ‘If you must.’ Carlo allowed.

  Two days later, with production at peak volume as batches were due to hit the stores the day after the town fair, Randy put down the phone after talking with one of the Hill’s management team.

  ‘They aren’t happy at all, you know. Herbert has been threatened with the sack for getting them into this fix, but they’re even more furious at us because they can’t back out now due to that stunt you guys pulled on the radio yesterday!’

  Carlo looked over and beamed at Abi who had made a call to a drive-time phone- in radio show the previous evening and announced the competition live on air.

  ‘Err, guys.’ Ben said, walking into the office holding that day’s paper. ‘We have a problem.’

  ‘What?’ Carlo asked still smiling.

  ‘Is it the story?’ Abi asked reaching for the paper. Ben handed it over.

  ‘Yeah, read here.’ he said pointing out a section of the story in the local paper that Abi had discussed with a reporter the day before. She was silent as she read through and then stopped.

  ‘Ah…’ she said, putting down the paper. ‘I see what you mean.’

  ‘What?’ Carlo repeated. ‘Did they get something wrong?’

  ‘Well, yes, but then possibly not. Perhaps we didn’t make ourselves clear.’ he said, suddenly looking guilty. ‘I told them the bet was whoever sold the least ice cream was going to be dunked and I mentioned that you, as the owner, were more than willing to put your dignity on the line in defence of this fun, but meaningful re-introduction of a famous local rivalry.’

  ‘You said that?’ Carlo asked, impressed.

  ‘Well I drew a little inspiration from your father.’ she replied and Carlo immediately understood that translated to “Luigi told me what to say”.