The Secrets of Ice Cream Success (14 page)

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?’

‘
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 manual.’

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.