Nell hoped they were not, because it was looking as if this really would be affordable. It would be a bit of a risk, because it would take most of the squirrelled-away investments, but it would not take all of them. The money earmarked for Beth would not need to be touched. She promised Godfrey that she would give him her decision within the next two days after she had talked to the bank and perhaps to a builder as well, then she went back to her own shop. Awaiting her was a message from some Japanese customers who wanted to buy a pair of Regency sofas which Nell had been trying to sell for six months. This was so encouraging, and would replenish the coffers so well, that Godfrey’s project looked even more promising.
After supper, when Beth embarked on her music practice, Nell caught herself thinking that if she took on Godfrey’s shop, Beth could have a bedroom in one of those unused upper rooms, and one of the present bedrooms could be turned into a music room. She was immensely proud of Beth’s progress and pleased with Beth’s continuing interest in the lessons, but it had to be acknowledged that the annexe was a bit small when it came to the practising of scales.
‘Would you like a proper music room, Beth?’
Beth’s small face, so heartbreakingly like her father’s at times, lit up. ‘I’d utterly love it. Where could I have it? Here somewhere?’
‘No, not here. But if we were to move to a bigger shop you might. It’s only an idea at the moment.’
‘We wouldn’t move away from Oxford, though? We couldn’t move away from Oxford, and leave Michael.’
Beth sounded anxious, and Nell said, ‘No, not away from Oxford.’ Certainly not away from Michael, she thought. ‘But perhaps to a bigger shop here in the Court.’
‘That’d be lavishly good,’ said Beth, and by way of expressing her approval, started in on a lively Mozart piece which her teacher had transposed and simplified for her.
‘It hasn’t happened yet and it might not happen at all. So don’t say anything to anyone,’ said Nell. ‘Understood?’
‘Um, yes, OK. Not even to Michael?’
‘No, I’ll tell Michael myself. And isn’t it your bedtime? In fact, isn’t it past it?’
‘One more Mozart. You like Mozart,’ said Beth, hopefully.
‘Yes, but if you play any more tonight you’ll never sleep – your mind will be too active.’
‘I bet Mozart wasn’t made to go to bed when he didn’t want to.’
‘Mozart didn’t have double geography and an arithmetic test in the morning. Yes, you do have,’ said Nell, as Beth opened her mouth to protest.
‘I hate geography.’
‘Well, how about if we just do a few capitals of countries. And afterwards you can play one short Mozart.’
‘Um, OK.’
Beth diligently chanted a few capitals, identified one or two outlines of countries in Google Earth, then enthusiastically banged out a truncated version of a rondo. She finally went happily to bed, and burrowed down into sleep straight away. Nell, following some time later, found her own mind was too active for sleep. The prospect of taking over Godfrey’s shop was becoming very enticing. She was already thinking how she would retain part of the book section for Godfrey’s Oxford customers, and how she would have the space to hold small antique events and weekend courses for eager amateurs, as she had in Shropshire.
Punching the pillow for the tenth time, and trying not to look at the beside clock ticking through the small hours, she thought she would phone Michael early tomorrow, and ask him to supper so she could tell him about the project. She considered this to see if it fell into the category of not being able to make her own decision without his approval, and concluded it did not. Then she spent a further half hour wondering how much she ought to take into account Michael’s presence in her life in reaching a decision about the shop. But this opened up such a complicated tangle of emotions that Nell put the problem away, sat up in bed, switched on the bedside light, and reached determinedly for her book. She fell asleep before she had read two pages of it.