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

by Daniel De Lorne

  ‘We’re only trying to help you, Bruce.’

  ‘I don’t need anyone’s help.’

  She raised an eyebrow and copied his hostile stance. Though he suspected she did it out of mockery. ‘Do you really believe that? Because from where I’m standing you’re close to falling apart.’

  Kenzie delivered her assessment with the bluntness of a sledgehammer knocking out a termite-infested wall. He shifted his weight from one leg to the other to compensate for the lurching in his stomach. ‘That’s not true.’

  ‘Oh really? So you weren’t in danger of losing your house?’

  ‘Well …’

  ‘And you think you would have been able to handle all this by yourself?’

  ‘I would have got to it in my own time.’

  ‘When?’

  ‘Excuse me?’

  ‘When would you have done it? We’ve all seen you running around town. We’ve got Hell Week next week and then opening night. So you were just going to sleep in the props room forever?’

  ‘It was mine to handle.’

  ‘Well, now we’re handling it.’ She unfolded her arms and placed her hands on his. Tension drained, along with the adrenaline. He wanted to hold on to it or else he’d not have the energy to continue. Exhaustion had dogged him for days, ever since he’d …

  He didn’t want to think of Gabriel. Not now. It was bad enough seeing the mess Rachel had made of his house; the mess he’d made of his life was squarely on his fatigued shoulders.

  ‘Why don’t you come see what everyone’s done?’

  He nodded dumbly, shame stiffening his legs. They pretended not to have noticed he’d been preparing to shout everyone out of his house. Smiles and warm hellos all round. A few of them, like Paul and Violet, pressed envelopes into his hand and apologised for being late with their payments. They wouldn’t hear his protests. Trudy Farrah brought him a cheque too, though he hadn’t given her an invoice. She also offered him a scone with blackberry jam from a platter she was carrying around and wouldn’t leave until he’d stuffed one in his mouth. She hadn’t had to tell him twice—her scones were legendary and he’d skipped lunch—but he barely tasted anything. It was like his tastebuds had packed up.

  Meanwhile, the damage Rachel had wrought was being removed. Some of it was still evident—the windows had no glass and the walls and floorboards were splattered with paint—but the house had been mostly emptied. The furniture was gone, the floors clear of debris. Cupboards in the kitchen were cleared. Mattresses and ruined linen gone, the fridge gone. Carpets and linoleum were being ripped up now.

  Kenzie gave him the tour through his house then took him out the back. Everything that was damaged had been put out the front, ready for a bonfire, but the remaining good furniture and his possessions were stacked under the verandah. Along with a whole heap of things that weren’t his.

  ‘What’s all this?’ He pointed to new cabinets, new tables, new couches.

  ‘Well, we figured you could do with some replacements. Don’t worry, it’s all second-hand, but whatever anyone could afford to part with, they brought along.’

  Boxes of new plates and glasses were stacked alongside whatever had been rescued from the house.

  ‘Don’t feel like you have to take everything,’ she said. ‘I mean, that lamp is hideous, but it’s all there in case you need it.’

  He had enough to fill his home and then some. She was right about the lamp—a dancing pig?—but if he got the windows and the front door replaced, at the very least he’d be able to come home.

  ‘Thank you for organising this, Kenzie.’ The words didn’t do enough to convey his gratitude or the slightly sick, slightly painful feeling swirling through his body, mostly around the centre of his chest.

  ‘Oh, it wasn’t me.’

  ‘What?’

  She bit her lip and wouldn’t look at him. She fidgeted with her hands. ‘Well, Gabriel came to see me soon after Sofia’s funeral.’ Her eyes shimmered with tears, but she sniffed and wiped them away. ‘He said he was worried about you and I kind of let slip where you were sleeping and so, well, I mean to say, he did this. All of it.’

  A calm blanketed his heart, shrouding it in a peace that he hadn’t felt in years. His mind lagged about two steps behind. ‘Gabriel?’ He’d been avoiding thinking about Gabriel so much but his heart was already way ahead. It knew what he lacked, what he craved.

  She nodded. ‘He went around looking for people who would be willing to help, and he told them that if they hadn’t paid their debts, they were to do it now or he’d … I don’t want to say he threatened them, but you know Gabriel, he can be a bit intimidating. I think it’s those eyes.’

  Bruce knew all about those eyes. And they were far from intimidating. They were eyes to fall in love with.

  ‘He shouldn’t have done that.’

  ‘He shouldn’t have had to do it.’ Her eyes bulged. ‘But people were having a go. Jeez, if you’d told me that you had that kind of unpaid debt, I would have dealt with them ages ago.’

  He chuckled. ‘And you think Gabriel’s the intimidating one?’

  ‘Oh, shush.’ She nudged him and he wrapped his arms around her shoulder and squeezed her tight. ‘You should go talk to him.’

  ‘Who?’ He knew but it was easier to avoid confronting what he needed to do.

  ‘Don’t even.’ She held up her hand. ‘I know you don’t like people interfering or knowing when you’re in trouble.’

  ‘I never—’

  Again with the hand. ‘But I’m your friend and I want you to be happy, so promise me you won’t let Gabriel slip away.’

  ‘It’s hard to make people stay.’

  Even harder when you push them away. Did those lies still matter? Since learning of them, their sting had faded and paled next to the self-inflicted pain of losing Gabriel.

  ‘He hasn’t left yet,’ she said with a hardness in her eyes, ‘and if this is anything to go by, he might want to stay around a while longer.’

  Kenzie was right. Gabriel wouldn’t have done this if he hated him, but after what Bruce had said, the big deal he’d made about being lied to, what was it going to take to keep Gabriel in Brachen for good?

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Gabriel had managed to avoid the theatre in the week since Sofia had passed away. Too many ghosts stalked its darkened hallways. Memories with his mother; memories with Bruce. Even after organising the community to clear up Bruce’s house and pay him the money they owed, he still hadn’t had any contact with the builder. Not even a thank you. That had always been a possibility—Bruce didn’t like accepting help from anyone—but to have said nothing? It really was over.

  Angela showed up at the house on Friday night asking him to come to the theatre and wouldn’t leave without him agreeing. Now she knew his secret she’d become pushier about him going into fashion design. He ignored her entreaties but he owed her for her help with the funeral so he swallowed his aversion and went. It would be the last time he saw Rivervue. With Sofia gone and Bruce uncommunicative, he had little choice but to return to Sydney.

  He’d have to find a new job. He’d go into Y Studio on Monday and tell Andrew he was resigning and that the theatre was the reason. He at least owed his boss the truth. Even if the redevelopment didn’t go ahead, he didn’t want the reminders.

  Dusk cloaked Brachen, the houses and forest blurring in the dim light as Angela drove them to Rivervue. She said that most costumes were done but there were a few dresses and suits unfinished that she absolutely needed his opinion on.

  His stomach soured and clenched. She no more needed his help than Bruce did. But it wasn’t the doubt that made his insides ache—it was his impending arrival at the theatre. Would Bruce be there? Apprehension had his foot pressing down in search of the brakes.

  She pulled into the empty car park, and Bruce’s beast was nowhere to be seen.

  He fought a sigh. He had his answer. He’d done his good deed but as for bridging the gap that
he’d forced between them, he had more chance of crossing Brachen River on a strand of dental floss. Bruce couldn’t get over his dishonesty, and Gabriel didn’t know how to make it any better.

  It was for the best that Bruce wasn’t there.

  Then why did each step drag as he trailed behind Angela?

  She yammered about this and that, about how divine it was all looking, how Sofia would be proud, how it had just enough of her taste to be considered her work, how the theatre would honour her in the program, but it was all so much noise.

  ‘This way.’ She guided him through the foyer and into the theatre rather than to the left and down the corridor to wardrobe.

  She held the door for him and his gaze swept up from the carpet to the lit stage. He stopped, his breath catching high in his throat. Mannequins dotted the stage, each dressed in the best pieces of his designs. Behind them hung the set from the final act, the most glamorous and complex one they’d designed. His heart thudded inside his chest as he struggled to breathe, to understand. He stumbled towards the magnificent sight.

  To see it all come to life.

  To see it all in reality.

  What a gift Sofia had given him in asking for his help.

  His hands covered his mouth and tears stung his eyes; his breath quavered as he looked around. He swivelled to thank Angela but she wasn’t there. He turned back to the stage, hoping for some explanation.

  ‘What do you think?’ Bruce came out from the wings.

  His heart stuttered at seeing the redheaded handyman.

  Bruce crouched, vaulted off the stage, and walked towards him. Gabriel wanted to run but in which direction? Bruce closed the distance before he could make up his mind. He stared up at the giant, bit his bottom lip, and itched to stroke the scar on the side of his head. He cleared his throat but didn’t know what to say.

  ‘It looks good, doesn’t it?’ Bruce said.

  ‘Even if it was based on a lie?’ The fanged question sprang from his mouth, and Bruce winced like he’d been struck.

  ‘I’m sorry.’ Bruce’s hands opened and closed. ‘I had no right to judge what you and Sofia were doing. After hearing your eulogy, I know how much you cared for her and why you did it.’

  Bruce might have been bitten but Gabriel was twice shy. To know he’d been there but they’d hurt each other so much, that Bruce didn’t come talk to him … He could have used a friend, if not a lover.

  ‘It would have been nice of you to say that then,’ Gabriel said. ‘I looked for you at the funeral.’

  I missed you.

  ‘I know. I should have said something but I felt so useless. After the fight, I thought I’d make it worse.’

  ‘But now?’

  Bruce held out his hand. ‘Come with me. You should see what you’ve created.’

  Gabriel could already see what he’d created. Fancy costumes and a lumbering set and a whole lot of pain. He didn’t want to see it anymore. He wanted to get out of Brachen and never look back. But Bruce’s open palm beckoned, a magnet that was too strong to resist. He took Bruce’s hand and a shock zapped his hand.

  No! Bruce still thought him a liar. He snatched his hand back and crossed his arms.

  ‘I’ll follow you.’

  Bruce’s tentative smile vanished as he turned and they walked up and onto the stage, Gabriel remaining a couple of steps behind. Bruce led him around the costumes so he could get a better look. Angela and Magda had done an excellent job with the sewing and turning two-dimensional sketches into three-dimensional reality. He touched the satin fabric and the rough linens, the amalgamation of the two worlds—dark and light, real and fake. That’s what he felt when he was standing there with Bruce. Bruce was real, but did that mean whatever Gabriel felt was fake? He examined Ron de Vue’s military uniform closely. He had no interest in the costumes right now but he needed to focus on something other than the aching in his heart.

  ‘I want to apologise for everything I said to you,’ Bruce said.

  The uniform’s coarse wool against his fingers wasn’t enough to scour Bruce’s attention from the back of his neck. But if Bruce wanted to talk, then he owed it to them both to strip away the last of the lies. Then maybe he could leave Brachen with a lighter heart.

  If there was anything left of it.

  ‘Why?’ He faced Bruce. ‘It was true. I did lie to you. Many times. And I did work on those designs.’

  ‘I know, but with all that’s happened lately, I’ve realised that there are lies and then there are lies.’

  Gabriel raised an eyebrow. Moral relativism? From Bruce?

  ‘What I’m saying is that I understand now that you did what you did to protect me and everyone else.’

  It would be easy to let Bruce believe that. Too easy.

  He shook his head. ‘No, I was afraid of the consequences. I didn’t want to hurt Mum for fear of losing her. I didn’t tell you about Jason for fear of losing you. I’m a coward, that’s all there is to it.’

  His heart squeezed when he spoke those words, all the goodness seeping out of it to drip onto a cold and damp stone floor. Wasn’t he supposed to feel better from telling the truth?

  ‘Jeez, and you said I lived in a black-and-white world.’ Bruce took a couple of steps towards him, but Gabriel dodged around a mannequin.

  ‘It’s true, you were spot-on. Some things can’t be made right.’

  Especially not now I know what you really think of me.

  ‘Do you believe that?’ Bruce asked.

  The grand gesture of rallying the community had been misguided. He’d helped Bruce but it hadn’t changed anything between them. It couldn’t.

  ‘What does it matter? I slept with Jason. I didn’t tell you the truth about us, or about him. I created those designs for the architect, I drew all this. All I am is lies and it would be better if I went back to Sydney.’

  He couldn’t bear to stay where he’d see Bruce every day. See him and not be with him.

  ‘You’re not going, are you?’

  ‘I’m leaving tomorrow. It’s for the best.’

  ‘Best for whom?’

  ‘I thought you’d be happy. If I’m back in Sydney, we won’t get in each other’s way. There’s nothing for me here anymore.’

  ‘And what about me? Don’t I get a say?’

  ‘You said it all the other day. You can’t be with a liar.’

  ‘You’re not a liar, Gabriel. Liars hurt people and that’s not you. It’s taken me far too many years to realise the difference.’

  Gabriel fingered the butterfly brooch on Mary’s gown. He’d wanted something bigger but though it was small, it was more intricate, more beautiful. An heirloom perhaps. It would sit over her left breast and hide her heartache. If only he could disappear into this world of make-believe and create illusions for others—and forget his own past and pain.

  Bruce wasn’t about to stop. He sensed him getting closer. Gabriel refused to turn around. He curled in on himself, his chest concave so he could better protect his wounds.

  ‘When I found out about Dad’s other family,’ Bruce said, ‘he made me promise to keep it a secret because it would hurt my mother too much if I told her. Like an idiot I believed him. I kept his secret because he was too much of a coward. He was a liar.’

  Bruce got closer and Gabriel forced himself to stay still, to stay tight.

  ‘Jason lied too,’ Bruce continued. ‘He never really wanted me, he just wanted to hurt you and to hurt both of us. But I was in his thrall and he crushed my heart until it was broken.’

  Bruce was so close now Gabriel could have leaned back and fallen into his chest. Bruce’s arms would fold around him and he’d be home. He’d be safe.

  Or that’s what he had once thought. He stayed still, stayed tight.

  ‘You …’ Bruce said. ‘You’re not like either of them. You’re not like anyone I’ve ever met or … or ever loved.’

  That word lanced Gabriel’s heart and he winced.

  ‘I still ca
n’t stay,’ he whispered.

  Bruce’s hand touched Gabriel’s arm and gently encouraged him to turn around. His resistance wavered, craving more of Bruce’s touch. He wanted his hands all over his body, he wanted his mouth to kiss every inch of him and make him forget the past. He wanted one last goodbye, knowing that Bruce might not think him a liar any longer even if Gabriel could not stay in Brachen.

  ‘What are you running from? Your home is here.’ Bruce put his finger under Gabriel’s chin and tilted his head up. ‘Sofia would have wanted you to be where your talent could grow.’

  Bruce smiled at him. That shine in his eyes was blinding. Gabriel freed himself from Bruce’s hold.

  ‘I’m afraid, Bruce.’

  ‘We all get scared. That’s how we know we’re doing something worthwhile.’

  Or something foolish.

  ‘What did Sofia do?’ Bruce asked.

  ‘She sacrificed everything for me.’

  ‘And after that?’

  He frowned. ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘She followed her dreams and that’s why we’re here today. That’s why you’re here today. You don’t think she was scared too? Of course she was but she did it, and even in her last moments she was pushing you to do what she knew you were capable of.’

  ‘I’m not strong enough to achieve what she did.’

  ‘Like hell you aren’t.’

  Gabriel walked away. He didn’t want to do this.

  But Bruce grabbed his hand and forced him to stop.

  ‘Stay. With me.’

  He looked from the hand holding him to the man holding him back. That was what he was more frightened of. That he and Bruce couldn’t make it work. They’d already tried and failed.

  ‘We can’t be together, Bruce. Every time I’ve tried to share the deepest parts of myself, people get hurt—including me. And no matter what I say, you’ll never trust me. Not after this. And I don’t want to fight the whole time to make you understand.’

  ‘You don’t have to tell me the truth because I already know it. What you did for me in bringing the town together to help clear my place, to pay their debts, I know, deep down to the very depths of my being that you would never hurt me. And I know, with no shadow of a doubt, that you love me. And I love you, Gabriel.’