Set the Stage (A Rivervue Community Theatre Romance, #2)

by Daniel De Lorne

‘I’d better go.’ Gabe climbed off him, his hand holding on to Bruce’s and helping him up. He led Bruce towards his car, kissed him again, before getting into his beat-up hatchback. He wound down the window. ‘You call me if you need me. Understand?’

  He nodded, knowing he wouldn’t call until he’d sorted Rachel out himself. This wasn’t like fixing his finances, this was family. Ten times worse. He waved as Gabriel drove away and took a deep breath of air before re-entering the war zone.

  Rachel sat at the table, glass full of amber in front of her. Where was the broken glass? It didn’t matter. There were more important things to worry about. He marched over, plucked the bottle of bourbon off the table, took it into the kitchen, and poured the contents down the sink.

  ‘Hey!’ She leaped up and fought to reclaim the bottle, but he held her back with one hand. She beat and scratched at him, but he withstood her attack until the bottle emptied.

  ‘You’re in my house, Rachel. My rules which means this poison isn’t allowed.’

  ‘You owe me a goddamn bottle.’

  ‘And you owe me months of worrying where you were. Now cut the crap. Either you behave or I’m kicking you out right now.’

  She sulked but stepped back and he was able to bring his arm in. He rinsed the bottle and threw it in the bin for recycling, then grabbed a tissue and blotted the blood she’d drawn on his arm. She returned to the table and guarded the one glass of alcohol she had left like a lioness protecting her cub before sculling the lot and handing him the empty glass. He snatched it out of her hand and rinsed it, then swept up the broken pieces of glass from the counter where she’d left them. The pieces tinkled as they fell into the bin.

  ‘Have you eaten?’ he asked. She’d need something to soak up the alcohol. Once fed, he could send her on her way.

  She shook her head, the defiance having melted away. She wasn’t always very good at maintaining the petulance. If he braved it long enough, she bored of fighting. Her anger remained, simmering in the background, but the shame kept her from boiling over.

  ‘Sit down.’

  He dished up two plates and put one in front of her. They sat at the family table. Surprisingly, the pie tasted good. He ate in a silence that was heavy enough to suppress even her urge to talk. He kept his eyes down, shovelled the food in and barely chewed. She picked. They were stuck in their old ways, him trying to eat as quickly as possible so he could get away, Rachel fearful of her mother’s reactions. He hated this table and should have chopped it up for firewood a long time ago.

  He got himself a second helping while she was still on her first. They finished more or less at the same time. He wiped his mouth with a piece of paper towel and took their plates over to the sink. He’d do the washing when he got back from dropping her somewhere. He picked his keys off the counter. The food had fortified his resolve. He didn’t have to get angry, he didn’t have to shout, he didn’t have to care.

  ‘Where can I drive you?’

  ‘What?’ she asked.

  ‘Where can I drive you? Where are you staying?’

  ‘Bruce, I haven’t got any money. I haven’t got anywhere to live.’

  ‘What about that apartment of yours in Sydney?’ It was a dump but at least it was a home.

  ‘I lost it. I couldn’t pay the rent.’

  She’d spent all the money? He’d thought she was being dramatic.

  ‘That’s why I’m here. I need money to get myself set up again.’

  ‘You’re joking.’ His hand closed over his keys, their sharp metal teeth gouging into his palm. ‘You are unbelievable.’

  ‘Don’t shout at me, Bruce. Look, can’t I just stay here?’

  ‘Absolutely not.’

  ‘Please.’ She was going for coy, for pleading. ‘Just for a few days.’

  It was a bad idea. And she’d had her chances. She’d destroyed any that she had remaining when she plunged him into debt.

  ‘I’ve got nowhere else to go and no-one to turn to.’

  ‘You should have thought about that before you decided to sue me.’

  ‘I’m sorry. If I could change it, I would.’ Damn she was crafty. ‘I’m here now and I’m asking you, as my big brother, for help. Please.’

  He was going to regret it. He knew it. He wasn’t meant to care anymore. At what point did family stop hurting you because at thirty-six years old he should have been immune.

  Or numb.

  His hands were callused but why was his heart so vulnerable? He could do it. He could force her out of the house, but he couldn’t do it without feeling something. If she walked out tonight and ended up dead in a ditch, he’d hate himself. Yes, she’d come for him and he’d gone into debt but he’d saved the house. At least he had that.

  And Gabe.

  He just needed to make sure he didn’t give her more money.

  He sighed and tapped the countertop a few times with his fist. ‘Fine, you can stay two days, that’s it. But no drinking. At all. You come home drunk, you’re gone. Got it?’

  ‘I promise. No booze. I want to get clean, you know.’

  He’d heard that before.

  ‘I’ll make up your room. And for God’s sake, take a shower.’ He stalked off to prepare for the two-day visit and started to think of all the valuables he’d have to remove in case she tried to steal them.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Gabriel walked into Milk’n’Honey to meet his boss, wishing he’d worn a trench coat and dark glasses. Andrew was in Brachen to discuss the redevelopment plan’s progress with the council. He should have said no to a catch-up but he’d decided to tell Andrew face to face that he was quitting. He’d been out of the office for over three weeks and he had no intention of going back to Sydney, even once Sofia was better.

  As soon as he entered, Andrew called out and waved. Gabriel fashioned a smile, nodding hello to Dasha.

  He shook Andrew’s hand and they got through their greetings. Dasha took their orders for flat whites, with a query in her eyes for Gabriel. He should have suggested a different meeting place. Gabriel wiped his palms on his thighs. At least they were at the back of the cafe and not out on the deck. He didn’t recognise any of the customers but that didn’t mean they weren’t watching.

  ‘How have you been, Gabriel? How’s your mother?’

  The hairs on the back of his neck prickled from imagined attention on him but he tried to focus on Andrew. Maybe if he was quick enough, he could quit his job and be on his way all in the space of time it took to finish his coffee.

  Maybe before.

  Were there always this many people in the cafe?

  ‘I’m alright, but she’s not doing so well at the moment.’

  And if she knew who I was meeting that would be the death of her.

  ‘I’m sorry to hear that. We miss you at the office but we understand that family comes first. You take as long as you need.’

  Sympathy glinted in Andrew’s eyes and it caused a crackle in Gabriel’s throat. Most firms might say these things but few actually believed them. Anywhere else, they would have wanted him to work from home at the very least, or more likely they’d make it painfully clear that taking time off was unacceptable. Andrew and Y Studio had been nothing but supportive, which only made this harder.

  ‘That’s really generous of you. I appreciate it.’

  ‘Don’t mention it. I’d rather have you back with us firing on all cylinders than wishing you were home and worrying about your mum.’

  Dasha delivered the coffees and asked if they wanted anything else. Her gaze darted between Gabriel and Andrew. She knew something was up. He pumped up his smile as best he could and waited for her to leave. Who would she tell about this? They were close to the theatre. Too damn close. But Andrew had chosen the venue for its proximity to the council chambers, and when Gabriel had taken the phone call, he couldn’t think fast enough to suggest an alternative like the Edgy Veggie.

  ‘The other reason I wanted to see you was to tell you the d
eveloper and the council loved your designs.’

  His panicking heart shuddered to a halt like a train on wet tracks. ‘My designs?’

  ‘Yes, the ones you were working on before you left. They were inspired. I knew you’d come up with something good, I just hadn’t expected them to be so good.’ Andrew moved the cups out of the way and reached down to pull a bound proposal out of a folio propped against his chair. ‘I think the personal connection must have been what did it.’

  Gabriel didn’t move, his body frozen. What had he done? What had he drawn? They were just sketches. They weren’t meant to be taken seriously.

  Andrew opened the proposal to the drawings. They’d been digitised and redrawn but there was no mistake. They were Gabriel’s through and through. He flicked roughly through the pages, each one worse than the one before. He didn’t remember having drawn so much.

  ‘They’ve turned out great, don’t you think? You should have seen how happy they were. Of course, I made sure to mention your name and that you were from here.’

  His head snapped up. The council knew? His name had been mentioned?

  ‘They like that local angle so once it goes ahead, they’ll probably want to use you for the media in helping to promote the project. You know the sort of thing. “Local architect’s dream for Rivervue revitalisation”.’

  Oh God. He was going to hurl.

  ‘Are you okay, Gabe? You look a bit green.’

  He shut the proposal, as if it would be enough to put the genie back in the art deco bottle.

  ‘Ummm, yes, I’m fine, it’s just …’

  He had to tell him the truth. He had to quit. No-one else must know he was involved.

  ‘Gabe?’

  His spine seized at the sound of Bruce’s voice. Steel replaced flexible vertebrae but he had to move. He had to hide what he’d done. He rocketed out of his seat and his knee hit the underside of the table, spilling coffee over the pages. Andrew jumped back while Bruce leaned in with napkins to mop up the mess. Gabriel didn’t move. If he stayed still, they might forget he was there.

  But Bruce wasn’t looking at him.

  ‘What’s this?’ Bruce turned the proposal around.

  ‘Excuse me, who are you?’ Andrew said.

  ‘Andrew, this is my … friend … Bruce.’

  Bruce flinched.

  ‘Bruce, this is my boss. He’s here from Sydney.’

  ‘Nice to meet you.’ Andrew reached for the proposal, but Bruce picked it up off the table.

  ‘Y Studio?’ He pointed at the logo on the bottom of the page. ‘You’re the guys who want to knock down the theatre?’

  ‘We’re not tearing it down, we’re integrating—’

  Bruce ignored Andrew’s pitch and turned slowly to Gabriel. ‘And you work for them?’

  Gabriel’s fingers massaged the scar at his temple.

  ‘Yes, he does,’ Andrew said. ‘You should be proud of what Gabriel’s done.’

  ‘Why? What did you do? Tell them to go to hell?’ Bruce still wasn’t talking to Andrew, and Gabriel still struggled to speak. People were watching, they’d tell Sofia before he even got the chance, and Bruce … Bruce would never speak to him again.

  ‘Why would he do that?’ Andrew spoke on his behalf. ‘Gabriel is one of our most promising architects. We understand that there’s a lot of emotion around the theatre revitalisation, but we’re doing our best to stay true to the heart of Rivervue and you can thank Gabe for that.’

  Andrew thought he was doing him a favour, that the work Gabriel had done was going to make people in Brachen proud of him. Andrew always valued the finished product over any actual connection to a place. He didn’t understand what Rivervue meant. That’s why he’d loved Gabriel’s designs.

  ‘You did this?’ Bruce’s lips barely moved. The proposal buckled in his fist.

  ‘It’s not what you think. Can we talk about this later?’

  Bruce slowly handed the proposal back to Andrew like a crane shifting a heavy load. He never took his eyes off Gabriel.

  ‘Andrew, this probably isn’t the best time. Can I call you?’ Gabriel said.

  His boss wiped the last dregs of coffee off the cover and put it back into his folio. ‘Sure, Gabriel,’ he said, his gaze uncertain as he looked at Bruce. ‘I’ve got a meeting to get to anyway. But remember what I said. Take as much time as you need.’ Andrew put his hand on Gabriel’s arm. ‘And even if people here don’t appreciate your talent, know that we do.’

  Andrew didn’t say goodbye to Bruce and Bruce didn’t acknowledge Andrew’s departure. Gabriel dropped back into his seat and hid his face in his hands. Bruce’s gaze dug into his back. No mistaking the attention this time.

  ‘Can you stop looking at me like that?’ Gabriel said.

  ‘I’m waiting for an explanation.’

  Gabriel dropped his hands and looked up at Bruce. Arms folded across his chest, skin reddening, eyes as hard as diamond. Others watched them too, waiting for the latest piece of gossip. Whether they knew the truth or not, they’d set some story pinging around Brachen within the hour.

  Gabriel stood. ‘Not here.’ He left the cafe with Bruce close behind him. He made for the bridge across the river. He wanted to keep running but they’d barely gone a quarter of the way before Bruce demanded he stop.

  ‘What’s going on? Did you really come up with those designs?’

  He couldn’t turn around. Not yet. The truth deep inside was battened down with so many ropes that undoing them risked unleashing other secrets. But Bruce had seen the proposal. He’d heard what Andrew said. He was stuck. Just like he’d been stuck when the bruises and the cut lip and the black eye had forced his parents to ask him why he’d been fighting. He’d run out of places to hide.

  Bruce was so close he could have kissed him. Too close. He took a step back. ‘Yes, I drew them.’

  ‘Is that why you really came back? To get a good look inside the theatre so you could find the best way to tear it down?’

  Bruce’s mistrust hacked into his chest, chipping away some of the shame and cutting through to the marrow where the sting was greatest.

  ‘Do you really think I’d use my mother’s illness as an excuse? Do you really think that little of me?’ He spoke fast because he had to free the words before his throat jammed.

  ‘What am I meant to think? You never told me you were working on the theatre.’

  ‘That’s because I was ashamed. I’d forgotten I’d even done those designs so to see them there was as much a shock for me as it was for you.’

  ‘I find that hard to believe.’

  ‘It’s the truth. I’m not lying to you. I didn’t tell anyone about the theatre because I was planning on quitting. I didn’t want to work on the redevelopment and I couldn’t be associated with the company that was.’

  ‘Then why didn’t you quit sooner?’

  ‘Because I had more important things to deal with.’ He leaned against the bridge’s railing. The water flowed calmly. He wanted a raging river to match the churn inside his chest and to drown out the sound of his thoughts. Bruce didn’t believe him. Bruce would never forgive him. For any of it. Even the stuff that wasn’t true.

  ‘More important things than being honest?’

  ‘Bruce, I wasn’t being dishonest.’ He’d argue with the giant but he wasn’t listening. He may as well have been a statue. Rage and hurt blocked Bruce’s hearing. ‘There was no point in telling anyone, especially not you, if I wasn’t going to be working on them. I screwed up but it’s not my fault that council wants to redevelop the theatre. I was trying to keep people from getting hurt.’

  ‘You were only worrying about yourself.’

  More cuts to his core. Some of them had been true, others a little off but no less painful. ‘I didn’t do any of this to cause problems. I love the theatre as much as you do and I don’t want to see it ruined.’

  ‘Then why give them the ideas to do it?’

  ‘Because that’s what I do.’ His ha
nds shook as he pleaded for Bruce to see sense. He was nearly cut through. He’d fall without much more effort. And he’d take Bruce down with him. ‘I’ve always done it. Give me an idea and I’ll start working on it. I like to draw, for God’s sake. I like to solve problems.’

  ‘The theatre isn’t a problem.’ Bruce glowered down over him.

  ‘Well, it obviously is for us. I’m sorry you had to see that but I didn’t do this to hurt you or anyone. I’m not proud of what I’ve done and I am terrified that Mum’s going to find out.’

  ‘Then you’d better tell her so she doesn’t hear about it from anyone else.’

  ‘Her health is bad enough as it is without hearing about this.’

  ‘All the more reason to be honest with her.’

  ‘You don’t understand.’

  How could he tell her after the past weeks spent working on the costume and set designs with her? It would be the worst betrayal.

  ‘You’re right,’ Bruce said. ‘I don’t understand dishonesty.’

  ‘I’m trying to protect her.’

  ‘You can’t protect people with lies, Gabe.’

  Telling the truth was what had always got him into trouble. And he had to make sure Sofia didn’t hear it.

  ‘I have to go.’

  ‘Fine. Whatever. Run away. Again.’

  Bruce was meant to understand but disappointment flooded the hurt. Gabriel wanted to touch Bruce but the giant had locked himself away and wouldn’t feel it. Maybe they just needed some time then he could explain properly without Bruce overreacting. He walked past Bruce towards town to get his car.

  ‘What I don’t understand is why you’d want to ruin the place where we’ve got so many memories?’ Bruce faced the theatre, not him.

  ‘But I don’t want to ruin it. It was a mistake but if you can’t see that, then we really do have problems.’ He stayed for a second in the hope that Bruce would look at him, that he’d relent, but he didn’t. Gabriel walked on, his head as murky as the river with no clear idea of what to tell Sofia without making her health worse.

  Chapter Eighteen