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?
Do you:
