‘Five hundred pounds?’ ‘Don’t shout,’ she said. ‘You’re always shouting.’ ‘But five hundred pounds … I mean. For a table to put a telephone on. It’s ridiculous!’‘It’s an antique. It’s an investment. In years to come it will be worth thousands. And it’ll make the hall look really smart.’‘That means there’s only a hundred and six pounds of that windfall left towards the gas bill.’‘That’s not going towards the gas bill! And it’s not a windfall. It’s a legacy. And I’ve got plans for that hundred and six pounds.’Angel ran his hand through his hair.‘Plans. What plans?’‘That hundred and six pounds is needed for something important.’‘For goodness’ sake, Mary. What’s the use of a hall table when we have a gas bill to pay? And what’s the something that’s important?’‘It needs a bit of restoration?’His jaw almost dropped to the floor. ‘What does? Your little Chippendale table costing five hundred pounds needs a hundred and six pounds worth of restoration?’Mary turned round from the sink.
