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it. Obviously the Amiens example was one of the first such examples – yet another valuable feature of his extraordinary discovery. Without referring to the transcription – opening the file once more would doubtless have rekindled Earl’s interest – Andrew sat for the remainder of the flight extrapolating the lines from memory and fitting them together in his head. He’d immediately been struck by the consistency of the solution. Earl’s proposition, though lacking musicological reasoning, was nonetheless correct; and knowing too much had led Andrew up a blind alley. Not that he would credit Earl for his inadvertent perception, even to Karen. His was a fortuitous error, no more, like a child discovering that a round peg could occasionally fit into a square hole. No, this deserved a thorough academic explication, and it would get one, in a chapter entitled ‘Notation in transition’. That would be the premise from which the solution flowed.
    The call home had to wait until the flight was nearly boarding. Check-in had been fairly efficient, but it was a busy day at JFK and getting through security had taken more time than Andrew had expected. He found a payphone with a vacant power point close by, plugged in his laptop to charge the battery for the transatlantic journey ahead, and dialled home. Eight o’clock: John would be in bed. He realised his mistake as soon as Karen answered, slightly out of breath. It was seven o’clock in Ohio, slap bang in the middle of John’s bath time. Karen was obviously on the cordless phone, John in the background, singing tunelessly.
    â€˜Karen,’ said Andrew. ‘I’ve just realised. It’s seven there, isn’t it? Bath time?’
    â€˜Yes. John. Put that down now. No. Don’t splash mummy. Yes. Bath time. Is there a problem?’
    â€˜No. No problem. Thought I’d just ring to say hi. I’m at JFK.’
    â€˜Good,’ she said absently. He could hear her reasoning with John, her voice muffled, the phone against her chest. He waited.
    â€˜Are you all right?’ she asked again. She was probably fishing for an apology, he thought.
    â€˜I’ve cracked the code.’
    â€˜Sorry? John, Daddy’s on the phone. Do you want to talk to him?’
    Karen came back on the line. No, then.
    â€˜The code? Sorry?’
    â€˜The notational problem. You know. I couldn’t get the motet to work. I’m pretty sure I’ve worked it out. I’ve got to check it, but it just seems right. D’you know what?’ He chuckled to indicate that he was being rhetorical. ‘It was simply a question of real note values. I’d been assuming alteration and imperfection, but it’s in a later notational system. It’s written in modern note values. Do you see?’
    â€˜No. No!’
    Andrew wondered why Karen was so assertive about her ignorance and was about to embark on an explanation of medieval musical notation when he realised that she wasn’t talking to him.
    â€˜John’s just tipped water on the floor. Hold on,’ she said. There was a clunk as she put down the phone, followed by the muffled sound of her crying out and John laughing. ‘That’s naughty. Mummy’s wet now.’ Her voice came more clearly down the line. ‘He just dumped some water on my head. Didn’t you? Didn’t you? And now he’s laughing because he thinks I look funny with a towel on my head. You’re not helping, aren’t you?’
    â€˜Well, I can’t…’
    â€˜Not you, Andrew. Can’t you tell I’m talking to John? I’m talking to you, aren’t I, you cheeky boy.’
    â€˜Not a good time, is it?’ he said hopefully.
    Karen sighed. ‘Look, Andrew, I’m very glad you’ve cracked it, even if I don’t understand, but can we talk another time? You know how it is at bath time.’
    He’d wanted to share the moment with