A cool, refreshing wind glances past your right cheek as you step back onto Westgate. You take a left, then a quick right at the crossroads, following a group of eager young souls bouncing their way down the pavement. They turn into the former Drury Lane Library, the handsome sandstone exterior basking in the sunlight.
A grinding, growling noise comes from within, but you decide to carry on past. You see a glittering new building development in front of you; modern office and retail towering around an attractive but empty pavilion. In fact, the whole place is empty, a strange hint of one possible future that never was, looking as if it is waiting to be taken out of its shrink-wrap.
You walk alongside it, down some steps and arrive in the beautiful gardens of The Orangery, Long Division’s most peaceful and reflective venue. You pass through the thick iron gates and see people sat on the grass, some drinking tea and coffee. You want to look around but a voice – a solitary unaccompanied voice – draws you into the old building in the centre of the grounds.
Jasmine Kennedy is on stage, performing acapella. In the gaps between each sweet, sorrowful note, you can hear the birds singing outside, the gentle chatter of happy people sat on English lawns.
The rest of the set is completed with guitar, each song carrying the same winsome air of loss and times long, long ago. A perfect afternoon gig.
You step outside once more into the light. The thought of being elsewhere seems ill at-ease for half a second. Perhaps it would be nice to just stay here for the day, sunbathing and drinking wine?