The Vital Spark by Carson Angela

Author:Carson, Angela [Carson, Angela]
Language: nld
Format: epub
Published: 2011-08-19T18:32:36+00:00

call was about. It had been a woman's voice on the telephone.

`Right, thanks, Peggy. That'll be fine. Thanks for everything.' The receiver clicked back into place, and Lee turned sharply away from the door. Haydn had not bothered to lower his voice, so whoever Peggy was, it was not a particularly personal matter, but she did not want him to think she was listening, or even interested in what he was saying.

`That was the switchboard operator back at the nursery,' Haydn cheerfully imparted his news as soon as he returned. The foreman left a message for her to ring me by nine and tell me that there would be another few trays of berries and tomatoes coming with the morning consignment, and the van would be here by the time you were ready to set off. They weren't to know you'd be early for once,' he said accusingly.

`Vince didn't order them.' She felt her anger rise again at his cool command of their marketing arrangements.

`No, but he'll take them when he sees what his chef has done with the others,' Haydn prophesied. 'That man had every intention of going to town on those berries. It's my guess he's left the lunch today to the underlings, and the sweet trolley will be his own masterpiece,' he predicted. Now's the time to follow up with another supply. Not too big, just four trays this time, enough to whet their appetites for more. Strike while the iron's hot,' he advised her solemnly, and Lee winced. 'I know,' a grin brightened his face, 'but whoever invented that particular cliché had got the right idea, he—that sounds like the van coming, now.'

He broke off and peered out of the window, and Lee followed him in time to see a gaily tartaned figure of a piper on the side of the delivery van pulling to a halt on the gravel, and the name of Scott scrawled in larger copperplate diagonally across the doors. A smartly uniformed driver slid open the side door, and Lee's eyes widened at the sight of the purpose-fitted racks inside, each containing a carefully paper-capped tray, except for the nearest stack. The tops of those trays were bare.

`Here you are, Mr Haydn,' the man saluted his recognition as Haydn strode out of the front door to meet him,

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