Late evening sun on Portland stone against a background of only sky blue. Who knew this would ever come to London again ? But it did, and seeing that sight always makes my heart lift and wish to be outdoors drinking in the fresh air, a cold beer and laughing in arms-touching proximity to friends.
I can imagine doing that and perhaps it might be a summer afternoon on the grass outside The Mill in Cambridge, or on the pavement outside La Perla in Covent Garden for shots and beers, yo. And then a little hush in the crowd noise as someone starts strumming a guitar, just having set up stall to the right of Porterhouse, by the door that leads into the building housing the dressing rooms of the Adelphi theatre, in whose windows we once saw The Phantom of the Opera lurch into view between scenes.
Over the strumming a voice that you might think is Adele for a few moments, especially in the singular way she enunciates “was” early in the song. A young man sits on the ground next to the standing singer, adding a few little freckles of piano from some sort of vintage mini keyboard.
At 2 minutes the harmonies kick in and a wash of guitar and the hush is complete: drinks aren’t moving to mouths, everyone listening, the surroundings feel hyper-real, the blues so much brighter and the sun so much lovelier. As soon as the harmonies and the sunny caress arrived, it gently fades as she and the pianist walk slowly down the street towards the river, playing ever more softly as they go.