Visiting the Astoria alone I finally have time to look more closely and remember the good times. Sliding down the handrails with squeals of joy echoing though the building. I wonder if Aunt Addie would be happy with my idea for it?

I hope by keeping the character of this I am staying true to her. But there's doubt niggling at me. I snap some photos of the entrance and the reception area. There are two small waiting areas. They're empty now, but there were definitely plush obnoxiously patterned sofas there before and I vow to track them down or find some replacements as soon as I am able.

The stairs look better in the photos than in person as the threadbare carpet is only really noticeable when you are walking on it.

The main theatre is still breath-taking and photographs beautifully. The panelled walls are in need of a little love as is the floor under the damaged chairs. I feel it move in the oddest way under my feet as I step on it and it's enough to make me back up cautiously. Maybe one to leave for the professionals.

Each room has it's own character, it's own history and I am determined to do it justice.

Circling back passed the main theatre I find my way to the balcony that overlooks the foyer. It's up here that you really see the true scale of it all and I am able to get a closer look at the ceiling.

The gold is duller than I remember as a child and I wonder if it was a case of rose-tinted glasses before or if it's a layer of filth and just needs a good clean. I hope it's not a repaint job as I can't imagine how long that will take with all the fiddly nooks and crannies.

Flipping a dust sheet off a stack of furniture I begin the drag a table out, intending to climb on it and see if I can get closer for a better look.

But the chair leg catches on a corner of carpet and flips it up to reveal the wooden slats underneath and something catches my eye. A glint of something just odd enough through the crack to grab my attention before it flops back into place.

Dropping to my knees I peel it back again and move my head around until I catch sight of it again between the pieces. I feel the seam carefully and feel a thrill go through me as it moves enough for me to get my fingers between and flip one slat up.

I stare at the familiar wooden box I had seen my Aunt with for a moment before retrieving it from the hiding place. It's heavier than I expected as I set it down next to me. My fingers trace the carved edges, seeing them up close for the first time.

Why would Aunt Adaline go to all the trouble of leaving it here and hiding it away when it could have just as easily stayed with her? I take a deep breath and open it. Nestled in the green velvet is a note on a small stack of letters, tied with brown string and under that lies a small notebook.

I unfold the note carefully and begin to read.

Dear reader

If you have found this I can only assume you are working on repairing The Astoria. I hope it isn't in too terrible a state by the time you have come to it.

This place holds a great many memories for me and I couldn't think of a better place to leave some of these memories when I am gone.

My body is weakening and I know it won't be long before I am no longer able to visit here anymore so I am placing this box before that happens. All I ask is that if you plan to read the contents, please return them to this building when you are finished.

If you are my niece Astoria then you will discover within these pages why I never married. It is a story I never had the strength to share but through our letters and my diary from 1939 I hope you will be able to understand why.

With love

Adaline Jones

I sit back on my heels. I never expected after reading the last letter that I would ever get to hear from her again so it makes my heart soar to think I'm getting another piece of her.

Especially a piece I was particularly fascinated by and sad to have found it had been lost. My hands are shaking as I pull the stack of letters out. Most are addressed to 'My Darling Ada' and at an address I don't recognise and I can only assume was Adaline's family home. The last two are dated later in the year and are written to William but apparently unsent.

Before I open them I decide to check the notebook and tears fill my eyes, my breath catching in my throat, as I realise the diary is full. An entire notebook filled with memories. A whole year of my Aunt. Without thinking I start reading.

1st January 1939
Mama said as it's my final year before I am truly an adult, I should record it. She has given me some of hers to read and, as soppy as the ones mentioning Papa are, it's lovely to read back on what her life was like. Perhaps one day I might like to look back on it with my own children. If all children are like my sister Clementine though I'm not sure I want any. Mama says I'll change my mind on that but it loses effect when she has to shout it over Clemmie's screeching. Regardless, I promise not to get too soppy, just in case.

Not that there's anyone round here worth getting soppy about. The nearest person vaguely near my age is Henry and he might be sweet on me but I can't imagine ever wanting to kiss him. You can't tell but I'm pulling a funny face at the thought. He's more like a brother than a lover. A fact I'm sure disappoints him so.

Mama is calling me to help with dinner now. I'm not sure how she expects me to keep a diary if she is going to interrupt my writing. Well, good night diary. I shall write you again soon.

My eyes are swimming with tears and I keep blinking to clear them so I can continue reading.

2nd January 1939
If I am to keep this up, Mama says I should do it every day. I tried to tell her that sometimes nothing interesting happens but she said "You'd be surprised what is interesting when you look back." She seems to think she is very wise and sometimes she is. On this occasion I have decided I will listen to her.

Now you get to hear about my very exciting day riding my bicycle into town for groceries. It was absolutely freezing out, mind. I'm surprised my fingers still work because they felt so cold, even inside my gloves, that I was sure they had fallen off.

I bought bread, cheese and fresh vegetables. Not that anyone asked but it was just what was available on Mama's list. There isn't much else to say so I'll write you again soon.

I'm so consumed with reading each entry I'm nearly the end of the January entries when the sounds of the door opening and voices pulls me out of Adaline's world.

"Miss Wendall-Jones?" Tommy's teasing voice calls out.

I roll my eyes, digging through my bag for some tissues to blot my eyes and try to hide the fact I have been crying. "Up here. I'll be down, just one moment."

I tuck the note in to mark my page in the diary and return it and the letters to the box. It's just a little too big to fit in my bag and I hesitate, considering leaving it in it's hiding place so that I don't have to tell anyone of its existence.

Realising how silly that is, I tuck the box under my arm and peek over the railings. Tommy is stood with a stunning curvy woman with long red hair.

Trying not to feel self-conscious at my rumpled dress and slightly dishevelled appearance from the crying, I head down to join them.

"Hi, you must be Astoria. Tommy has told me so much about you." Penny gushes tottering towards me with surprising speed in some of the highest stilettos I've seen.

I can appreciate the skill it takes to walk in them even if they wouldn't be my first choice of footwear.

Her arms wrap round me in a crushing hug and I shoot Tommy an alarmed look as he cracks up behind her back. I wish I could say the same to her but I haven't really got a clue who she is beyond the fact she is likely called Penny as he mentioned.

"Nice to meet you." I wheeze into her hair.

"Penn, let the girl breathe!" Tommy sniggers, finally taking pity on me.

As soon as she releases me I take a subtle step back and fix my business smile as I gesture to the room, "Welcome to the Astoria."

"Oh it is just so amazing that you're named after this place." Penny gives a delighted little clap of her hand.

"Thank you?" I'm unsure how else I am supposed to respond and Tommy is proving utterly useless as though he is thoroughly entertained by my confusion.

"Just amazing." She sighs spinning round as she gazes at the ceiling.

I shoot Tommy a look which I hope conveys my concern that she is on something because no one should be this happy at the end of a working day. And I say that as someone who really loves my job!

He shakes his head with a laugh, "Come on Penn, let's give you the grand tour and then you can let us know the damage."

"Perfecto." She sings out, skipping to grab a small hot pink wheeled case she left by the door.

"What's that you've got there?" Tommy asks, nodding at the box under my arm as Penny gets to work in the main room.

I glance over at where Penny is tapping some information into a tablet, refusing to meet his eye as I reply, "I found it. It's a box of things Aunt Adaline left." I reply softly.

"Like a time capsule?" He sounds intrigued.

"Just a diary and some letters." I don't know why I'm trying so hard to pretend that they don't matter to me when I'm clearly already being ridiculously over protective of them.

"I'm not going to take it." He teases, elbowing me in the side, "Just tell me if you find anything juicy."

His eyebrow waggle is both adorable and annoying but I'd never let on it was the former.