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“I’m taking you to a warm summer’s beach.”

“In an hour? In the middle of a November night in New York? And how do you plan to do that?”

“You’ll see. Go get your coat on and I’ll call a cab.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

The cab pulled up in the snowdrift outside an old art deco movie theatre that Eleanor had visited as a child, but which had closed down years ago. In its heyday it had been bright and glamorous, with its flashing neon lights and 1920s charm. But now the lights were out and it looked forlorn in the gloom. But the architecture still retained its bold and stylish rectilinear symmetry, which was reminiscent of those carefree days. She smiled nostalgically. Even though it was a shadow of its former self, Eleanor half-expected Fred Astaire to come tap dancing down the granite steps to a number from 42nd Street.

“What are we doing here?” she asked Joseph.

“Come on, I’ll show you.”

They climbed out of the cab into the freezing night, and he put his arm around her as they walked up the steps. He opened the beautiful ornate door, which had captivated her as a child – with its golden décor that covered the glass like expressionistic sunbeams.

“After you,” he said, winking.

She laughed, deciding to play along.

The corridor was warm, and it was like stepping back in time – into her own childhood and into the 1920s. The gold-themed décor and bold embossed wallpaper had been kept clean, and the black-and-white framed photos of movie stars from the interwar period still decked the walls, labelled with names like Fay Wray and Rudolph Valentino.

Joseph held her hand as they made their way across the thick carpet towards the theatre doors, which were sturdy and covered with gold crisscrossed bars. He yanked open one of

the doors, and Eleanor glanced into the auditorium. It was empty, but the stage had been set.

“Go on in,” Joseph said. “It’s all for you.”

She crept inside and was struck with the sound of sweet birdsong and crashing waves emanating from the archaic speakers. She smiled, immediately feeling relaxed by the sounds of nature. He put his arm around her and they walked together down the aisle, towards the old wooden stage. The proscenium arch was as impressive as ever, with its bold marble pillars to each side, its red velvet border, and the deep, wide space beyond. Eleanor noticed – as they walked towards it – that half the stage had been dressed with a shallow pool of water, and the other half had been covered in several inches of sand. The UV lights that surrounded the stage made it warm, and the bright blue backdrop gave it a glow of daytime.

She halted and gazed at Joseph. “It’s a beach!”

He chuckled. “You said you wanted to go to the beach, so I brought the beach to you. Come on.”

He grabbed her hand and they strode up the wooden steps to the stage. Eleanor gazed at the beautiful scene of sea, sand, and sunshine. The UV lights were hot, so she struggled out of her winter coat, and Joseph draped it over a deckchair – several of which had been positioned by the water. She kicked off her shoes – suddenly feeling like a child – and she dipped her fingers into the pool.

“It’s warm.”

He grinned. “It’s the best I could do in the small time I had.”

She stared at him, unable to believe that anyone would do this for her.

“Sit down,” he said. “Take off your stockings. Feel the sand between your toes.”

She laughed, then eased herself into one of the deckchairs and removed her elastic-topped stockings. She watched Joseph as he strolled over to the upright piano on the outskirts of the beach and sat down.

“Allow me to serenade you as you sit in the sunshine, ma’am.”

He sat at the piano and started to play a full-bodied gentle tune. Eleanor sank into the canvas of the deckchair and allowed herself to relish this precious moment. She glowed with warmth inside and out. The music, the birdsong, and the sound of the waves soothed her soul. She relaxed every muscle, and allowed her mind to operate on a lower, calmer frequency, as if she was falling asleep. She sat there for a while, simply enjoying being alive, until he stopped playing.

“You okay, Ellie?” he asked.

She opened her eyes snoozily. “Hmm, yeah. I’m just relaxing. Did you write that tune?”

He stood up and wandered over. “Oh, I was just improvising….”

They shared an affectionate smile. He knelt at her feet and gazed up at her. “Foot rub?”

He grabbed a handful of sand and started to massage the prickly grains into her bare soles, which sent jabs of joy up her legs and into her thighs. “Ohhh god, Joseph…”

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