The Secrets of Ice Cream Success (11 page)

‘
Guys…’ he
whispered, trying to get their attention as he noticed the
temperature drop in the room. ‘
Guys
!’ he said louder noticing the
clock behind the group had started to count time backwards. “Guys!’
he shouted, ‘I think we should leave!’

‘
Why?’ asked
Norton, still playing with the diary.

‘
Norton, stop
doing that…’ Carlo asked through the side of his mouth as he
glanced at the clock to see the hands now spinning wildly. Air
condensed from his mouth.

‘
Why’s it so
cold in here?’ Abi asked.

Newton started to inch towards
the door. ‘I think Carlo is right, let’s go.’ he said, having
followed Carlo’s gaze and noticed the clock. ‘Come on Norton, put
the book down, there’s a good chap.’

‘
Why?’ Norton
moaned, what are you lot going on about, I’m not doing
anythi…’

A sense of anger and
frustration filled the room as a voice bellowed out from every
corner…

GAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!! WILL YOU KIDS
JUST LEAVE THAT BOOK ALONE AND GET OUT, NOW!

Screams filled the staircase as
Abi, Newton, Ben and Norton pushed past each other trying to leave
the room as quickly as they could at the same time with Carlo
bringing up the rear at full speed crying out ‘I told you!’

Carlo didn’t feel comfortable
at all wearing the itchy shirt that Randy had bought him for work,
but Abi had insisted that he had to look smart at the party and
when it came to smart it was either this shirt or the suit he had
worn at his father’s funeral, which was by now a few sizes too
small.

‘
Do I have to
go?’ Carlo had protested earlier, believing that ghostly
experiences were more than a good enough reason to cancel social
engagement plans. Abi, who had overcome the shock of being yelled
at by a study surprisingly easily when faced with getting ready for
a party, didn’t relent.

The four boys weren’t going to
be as easily diverted from what had happened and when Newton’s Mum
rang to say he couldn’t go to the party because he had come down
with a fever it took all of Abi’s powers of persuasion and no small
amount of shouting to pull the others into line.

‘
But that’s
what happened to me the first time!’ Carlo had complained. ‘We
shouldn’t go!’

‘
Listen, you
three! We are going to go to this party! There will be no talk of
ghosts! There will be no talk of ice cream factories! There will be
free food!’ Norton brightened up at this. ‘And you, Carlo, will
talk to Vicky Dearlove as if you were a normal human being! Just
try your best.’ She finished, which Carlo thought was a little
unnecessary.

‘
What kind of
food will there be?’ Norton asked as they walked up the garden path
to Vicky’s front door.

‘
Is that all
you think about?’ Abi sighed.

‘
Look, you
said there would be free food, so I just want to get things
straight. If there’s not stuff I like then I’ve been brought here
under false pre-tennis.’

‘
Pretences.’
Ben supplied.

‘
Yeah, those
things.’

Abi shook her head, reaching to
press the doorbell whilst Norton peered through the frosted glass
of the door trying to see a table laden with food and Carlo tried
to hide behind Ben, perfectly happy to remain unseen.

‘
Hi Guys!’
said a broadly smiling lady answering the door. ‘Abi… Ben, great to
see you.’

‘
Hi, Mrs
Dearlove.’ answered Abi and Ben in unison. ‘This is Richard, our
cousin.’ Abi said pulling Norton back from the open door to face
Vicky’s mother. Norton absently said Hi and returned to staring
into the house. ‘And this is Carlo, our friend.’ Abi finished.
Carlo popped his head out from behind Ben, said “Hi” and then
disappeared again.

‘
Oh, so
that’s
Carlo.’ Mrs
Dearlove said with a grin whilst opening the front door wide to let
them in. ‘Well, come on in guys. There’re drinks in the kitchen,
milkshake and lemonade, and Mr Dearlove is just lighting the
barbecue in the back garden, with Vicky.

‘
Awesome!’
Norton squeaked, trundling ahead intent on offering some cheffing
advice.

Carlo followed
Abi and Ben into the house, still keeping out of sight and vaguely
wondering what Mrs Dearlove had meant by “Oh,
that’s
Carlo”. It surely couldn’t be
anything good. Although most of the other guests were from a
different school, Ben and Abi seemed to know almost all of them and
were soon chatting away. Carlo somehow found himself stood in a
corner of the lounge and within minutes noticed that everyone else
had moved off into the kitchen and garden. He stood uncomfortably
for a few minutes holding a lemonade Vicky’s Mom had given him and
wondered what he should be doing before deciding he should sit
down.

‘
Having fun?’
a voice asked from the doorway.

Carlo looked up from
contemplating his drink to see an old man entering the room using a
cane to help steady himself.

‘
Erm…’ Carlo
answered.

The old man waved away his
question as he sat down in the armchair with an audible sigh. ‘No,
me neither.’ he said leaning his cane against the arm of the chair
and relaxing into the leather to get comfortable. The man stared at
Carlo with bright blue eyes surrounded by soft wrinkles that hinted
at laughter. ‘Well?’ he asked.

‘
Erm…’
repeated Carlo who was already uncomfortable at the party and was
now feeling most put upon.

The old man chuckled as Carlo
squirmed under the extremely light interrogation. ‘Well? He asked
again. ‘Who are you?’

Feeling
relieved that there was an obvious answer now available, Carlo gave
his name but offered no other information. ‘Carlo Leodoni, huh?’
the old man said, with a smile. ‘So
you’re
Carlo?’ he
chuckled.

‘
Wait…what?
Why does everyone…?’ Carlo started, slightly worried that he had
done something wrong.

The old man chuckled again,
seemingly enjoying Carlo’s confusion, before smiling more gently.
‘I’m Vicky’s Granddad. She’s mentioned you once or twice.’ he said
with a grin that suggested he was understating.

‘
Oh…’ Carlo
replied, not at all sure if that made things better or
worse.

‘
I used to
know your Family.’ Mr Dearlove said, ‘Your grandfather was a bit of
a character. But I was sad when I heard about your father. He was a
good man.’

‘
You knew
him?’ Carlo asked surprised.

‘
Aye, many
did. He was well known round these parts. Wanted to go to the
funeral, but couldn’t.’ Mr Dearlove said, tapping his leg. ‘He was
a good man.’ he repeated.

‘
Thanks.’
Carlo mumbled, not really sure if that was the correct
response.

‘
Made great
ice cream, your family did. Better than that other lot, anyway.
Never liked Hill’s.’

Carlo immediately warmed to the
old man and started to relax. Anyone who disliked Hill’s was
someone Carlo could relate too.

‘
I was on
their side, back when the competition was on.’ Mr Dearlove
continued. ‘Everyone had a side. Big deal, it was, the
competition.’

‘
What
competition?’ Carlo asked.

‘
You don’t
know? Oh, well, it was in the papers and everything. Leodoni’s Vs
Hill’s. Who could sell the most ice cream in a day at the town
fair. Years ago, it was. Must’ve been, nineteen seventy or seventy
one.’

‘
I didn’t know
about that.’ Carlo said, fascinated. ‘Who won?’

‘
Well, Hill’s
did, of course. More vans, better sales. But everyone preferred
Leodoni’s, the whole town knew which was best. Good man, your
father.’ Mr Dearlove said, nodding in agreement with his own
memory.

‘
Anyway,’ he
asked suddenly, ‘why are you in here by yourself when all the other
kids are outside?’

‘
I didn’t mean
to be. It just sort of happened. Everyone seemed to know what to do
and sort of moved off and I guess I got left behind.’ Carlo
supplied, looking mournful.

‘
Ah.’ Vicky’s
Grandfather said, nodding in understanding. ‘First party, is it?’
Carlo nodded. ‘Want me to come outside with you and introduce
everyone?’

‘
God, no!’
Carlo said, a little more forcefully than he had meant to. ‘Sorry,
it’s just that, well… you’re…’

‘
Old?’
Suggested Mr Dearlove.

‘
Yes! Well…
err no, not that.’

Mr Dearlove laughed loudly. ‘No
offence taken, Carlo. Of course you don’t want me to introduce
you.’ he said, chuckling away to himself. ‘Tell you what. Wait here
a second.’ Mr Dearlove pulled himself up with his cane and shuffled
out of the room leaving Carlo to stare at his drink once again. A
minute later Vicky skipped into the room, followed a moment later
by her Grandfather.

‘
Carlo, there
you are! We’ve been looking for you. I thought Ben was joking when
he said you’d come too but had disappeared.’

‘
Oh, don’t
blame Carlo, Vik. I was talking on and on about things that don’t
really matter, the way old people do.’ Mr Dearlove said, winking at
Carlo, ‘But you two should run along now and leave me to reflect
ruefully on old age.’

Vicky rolled her eyes while her
Grandfather laughed himself back down into his chair with
intermittent wheezing.

‘
Come on,
everybody’s outside.’ Vicky said, grabbing Carlo’s hand and pulling
him firmly through the house.

On the whole Carlo had to admit
that he was enjoying himself, which came as something of a
surprise. Ben was under orders from Abi to keep Norton entertained
and, most importantly, away from Carlo so he didn’t make him more
nervous around Vicky than absolutely necessary. In that regard,
Carlo found things were better than he was expecting because for
the time being at least it didn’t seem that he was required to
offer much by way of conversation, Vicky being quite adept at
holding one by herself on the various topics of the day ranging
from what colour the French Teacher in her school had dyed her hair
through too a boy named Dave that he didn’t know being caught
smoking behind the sports hall and being given detention. Carlo
nodded and smiled his way through a number of unfathomable
anecdotes which ended rather abruptly with a question tacked onto
the end of the final story without so much as a pause for breath
in-between.

‘
Sorry, what?’
Carlo said, trying to quickly focus once more on the
details.

‘
Would you
like to go to the cinema with me this weekend?’ Vicky asked
again.

‘
Yes?’ Carlo
suggested, hoping that was the correct answer.

‘
Good.’ I’ll
go and get us some more lemonade.’ Vicky said, taking his glass and
running off to the kitchen with a smile.

Alone again, Carlo looked
around the garden. Ben and Abi were holding court amongst a large
group of kids from Vicky’s school whilst Norton was remonstrating
with Mr Dearlove about the correct ratio of condiments and salad to
be placed in the perfect burger, which according to Norton was
“Lots:None”. All in all Carlo was beginning to think he was getting
the hang of both parties and girls and what’s more neither had
required much input from him, which was the way he liked it as it
limited the opportunity for embarrassment.

Looking through the kitchen
window, Carlo could see Vicky chatting with her Mom as she
collected drinks and was slightly concerned when both looked out in
his direction with broad smiles. He smiled back sheepishly and
turned around in what he hoped was a nonchalant manner to find
himself face to face with a slightly bulging Spiderman.

‘
Argh! What
the…?’ Carlo stepped back to see that Spiderman was actually
emblazoned on the front of a t-shirt, which itself was
ill-fittingly stretched across a chest. He stepped back again
looking up to see that the chest belonged to a kid at least a foot
taller than he was and a good deal wider. ‘Sorry.’ Carlo said,
still trying to move back far enough to take in the view in front
of him. It was like trying to see an entire mountain when stood at
the base. ‘I didn’t see you there.’ he added, immediately
regretting it given that the boy in front of him could probably be
seen from space.

‘
So you’re the
Italian kid?’ the boy said ignoring Carlo’s remark.

‘
What?’

‘
Can you speak
English? I said… so you’re the Italian kid?’ repeated the boy,
aggression stressing every word.

‘
What? No,
well… yes, but no, I’m English. My Dad was Italian.’ Carlo finally
sputtered, feeling his earlier confidence rushing away to be
replaced with flustered distress.

‘
So you’re
Italian, then. And you’re what… nine years old?’

‘
I’m
fourteen!’

‘
Nah, can’t be
fourteen. I think you’re nine. So, you’re an Italian child and you
think you’re better than me?’

‘
What do you
mean? I don’t even know who you are!’ Carlo said, feeling he was
lagging behind in the discussion and trying desperately to catch
up.

‘
Listen,
child
, I don’t like you. You think you’re better than everyone,
but you’re not. You’re just a little kid and you’re not even in the
right country.’ The boy reached forward and grabbed the front of
Carlo’s shirt and pulled him forwards. ‘You better not do it
again!’ he growled into Carlo’s face, spittle shooting from his
lips.