Take a Bow (A Rivervue Community Theatre Romance, #3)

by Fiona Greene

  At twelve, she boosted herself onto the stage and viewed the team. Kenzie and Dylan were up the front, Bruce and Gabe next to them. Richard was sitting with his younger brother, who was enrolled at CJ’s but hadn’t been cast. But it didn’t end there—every person with a part, speaking or not, was here. Lexi scanned the seats. No, all of their members, acting, production and even those not involved with this show, including the juniors, had turned up.

  The crew were seated together, and every single one of them was in their Rivervue shirt. Their volunteers from the office, and the grounds, were in the seats further back. Heck, even old Angus from the home was here.

  Lexi stared out into the auditorium.

  This was Rivervue Theatre Company.

  She ran her eyes over the gathering again. Searching for the two faces she hadn’t seen. And her heart sank.

  No Mark.

  No Emma.

  Why? Mark didn’t care. Mark was off pandering to the mayor. Mark was comforting his daughter. Mark was too embarrassed to show his face.

  It didn’t matter. Everyone else was here. Except Mark. And that hurt.

  She stepped forward to the edge of the stage and cleared her throat. Gradually, the conversation stopped.

  ‘First, I wanted to let you all know how proud I am of each and every one of you who is working on the Larrikin production. Last night was an exceptional performance, perfectly staged, and the audience were in awe of you and your work.

  A light smattering of applause echoed through the theatre.

  ‘But, we have been unlucky enough to receive a bad review.’ She paused. ‘Has anyone read it?’ About half of the audience raised their hands. ‘Unfortunately, it’s our first and it’s not great.’ She was now officially the queen of understatement. ‘I’ve read it, but I’m not going to give it any more air time. Suffice to say I don’t agree with it. I think it’s untrue. So, I want everyone to ignore it. Don’t respond. Don’t discuss. Don’t comment on social media. As of now, that review ceases to exist.’

  A murmur rippled across the auditorium.

  ‘I understand how counterintuitive that is. Don’t get me wrong, I want to respond. But I think our best response will be in the excellent production we deliver this afternoon, tonight and tomorrow.’ More murmurs.

  ‘So now we wait for those more positive reviews, and when they arrive, I’ll promote them to the ends of the earth. But I need you all behind me, with a rock-solid production. You saw the crowd yesterday. You heard them talking. This article does not speak for the people. It will not devalue the work you guys have put in to make this the best production I’ve ever been involved in.’ Her voice cracked, and she paused. ‘This production is great. You are all exceptional.’ Lexi’s gaze swept out over the seats. ‘Don’t let one reviewer convince you otherwise. Now, any questions.’

  One of the actors playing a soldier buddy of Ron’s put his hand up. ‘This is going to get back to the mayor. Do you think this will affect Council’s decision on the Rivervue Revitalisation?’

  More murmurs.

  ‘Proposed Rivervue Revitalisation,’ she corrected. ‘I would hope not. The mayor funded us to deliver a production for the bicentennial and we have achieved that.’ Blown it out of the water more like it. ‘What I can’t guarantee is that the Council won’t sell us out and decide on a financially attractive alternative use for this building. So, until the final decision is made we have to keep fighting. The best way we can do that is with our production of Larrikin.’

  A lady from the historical society put her hand up. ‘Could we ask for other reviews? Perhaps someone from the city?’

  Lexi thought about her response. ‘I’m going to go out to a few creative directors I know and ask advice. I don’t want to play tit for tat, because that helps no-one. What I want is an honest, unsolicited review.’ She paused. ‘Preferably one that supports my belief that this is the best show we’ve ever staged.’

  Gradually the questions petered out, and Lexi closed out the meeting with their warrior call. ‘Rivervue,’ she shouted.

  ‘Rivervue.’ The audience roared it out loud, not having to worry about noise, or patrons, and Lexi smiled. Waters’s review had certainly backfired in driving a wedge into the company.

  Rivervue Theatre Company stood united as they headed into day two of their run.

  Chapter Eighteen

  If the pace of Hell Week was brutal, Saturday morning was lining up to be worse. Traffic in Brachen moved at a crawl, courtesy of the influx of visitors for the bicentennial.

  Mark tapped on the steering wheel as he crawled, one car length at a time, closer to the roundabout at the top of town.

  The night before, having tucked Emma into bed, he’d laid awake for the longest time. What a rollercoaster.

  Now he understood what Lexi had been talking about, all these weeks.

  Rivervue was more than a venue, or a community theatre group. It was an integral thread in the tapestry that was Brachen.

  And then the thunderbolt had hit him from the blue: Rivervue was family.

  Lexi’s family. Her only family. The hollowness that discovery had caused stayed with him this morning.

  Emma yawned in the passenger seat and asked for what seemed like the hundredth time, ‘Where are we going?’

  ‘I told you, it’s a surprise.’ Soon to be a rushed surprise if he didn’t get over to the Edgy Veggie to pick up their breakfast. ‘Actually two surprises.’

  ‘Cool. What’s in there?’ She eyed the box sitting on the back seat.

  ‘A surprise. I told you.’ Finally the congestion cleared, and he zipped around the back of the eatery. ‘Can you grab our order, please? He handed Emma a fifty. ‘Tell Lincoln to keep the change.’

  Emma’s eyes widened. ‘Wow.’

  Wow, indeed. Emma was used to takeout from the fast-food chains on the highway, where a fifty fed a whole family.

  But this was Brachen—home of artisan eating. If there was such a thing.

  His stomach rumbled as the unmistakable aroma of pancakes and maple syrup filled the car. ‘Right, down to the river.’

  He hadn’t planned his destination, prepared to stop anywhere along the riverfront park with a view of the theatre. He spotted a car park just south of the footbridge and made a beeline for it.

  ‘Breakfast with a view.’ He grabbed everything he needed from the backseat of the car.

  Emma followed, her tongue between her teeth as she balanced the platter with his coffee and her fruit smoothie. This morning she was in shorts and a T-shirt, so different to the young lady he’d watched the night before.

  They tucked in while the pancakes were hot, and after they’d eaten their fill Mark wiped his hands and dragged his gear forward. ‘Hey Em, I wanted to talk to you.’

  She stilled. ‘Sure.’

  Mark saw it and could have kicked himself. With what happened with Skye and the pageant, and his ex’s abrupt departure the night before, he’d probably scared her half to death.

  ‘Good talk,’ he reassured her. ‘Actually, I wanted to ask your opinion about something.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Two things.’ He pulled a satchel open. ‘You know the redevelopment, and the lease coming up on the theatre.’

  She rolled her eyes. ‘Proposed redevelopment, Dad.’

  ‘Proposed redevelopment,’ he agreed. Lexi’s influence was everywhere. ‘Well, something doesn’t add up. If the play is right, Ron de Vue never returned to Brachen, yet Council had a deed from him granting a fifty-year lease to use the theatre.’

  ‘His heart was probably broken,’ Emma told him. ‘That’s what Lexi says. Because he could never come back to see his baby.’

  Or his Mary.

  ‘So, the theatre wouldn’t have been built when he died.’ Mark pulled one of the Council’s flyers from his satchel. ‘It doesn’t say here when construction started or finished. Only that it was built to celebrate Ron de Vue.’

  Emma’s brow wrinkled. ‘So if
he was dead already, how did he sign the lease?’

  ‘Exactly.’ Mark high-fived his daughter. ‘I’m wondering if maybe it wasn’t signed. That might be useful. I think Lucy, Kenzie’s nan, will know. She’s the baby in the play, and she was the lady in green in the front row at the final rehearsal.’

  Emma nodded. ‘The one that cried. We dropped her home,’ she added helpfully.

  ‘Yeah, I know. I wondered if you would be able to come with me this morning to visit Lucy. If we find out the truth about the lease, it might stop the redevelopment. Or at least delay it.’

  Emma’s eyes lit up. ‘That’s the surprise? Oh, Dad, if you did that, Lexi would love you forever.’

  Out of the mouths of babes. Mark laughed for a second then sobered. ‘Speaking of Lexi, there’s something else I wanted to talk to you about.’ He pushed the satchel away, and placed Lexi’s gift between them. He slipped the timber box from its red velvet cover. ‘Surprise number two. Do you know why Lexi called the youth theatre CJ’s?’

  The strangest look crossed his daughter’s face and she reached out to put her palm on the box. ‘Caleb Joseph.’ She tilted her head. ‘She named it after Caleb. My friend Caleb.’ She paused. ‘He’s dead you know.’

  Mark’s pancakes nearly made a surprise reappearance. How was it possible his child had known about his baby, when he hadn’t?

  ‘She did name it after Caleb,’ he confirmed. ‘Do you know who Caleb is? Or was?’

  ‘He was her baby. A long time ago. He was sick.’

  A cool breeze tickled the back of his neck. ‘Yes he was. Do you still see him?’

  ‘Not since we moved here. Remember, right at the start, I wanted to go to Lexi’s, to see if he was there. But it’s funny. He just disappeared.’

  A full-on icy chill travelled down his spine. He didn’t even believe in things that went bump in the night. At least, he hadn’t till now. ‘I think there’s a reason for that.’ He opened the wooden box, pulled out the faded photo of him and Lexi at Bondi Beach and handed it to Emma. ‘That’s Lexi and me, a really long time ago.’ He gestured to the box. ‘This here, is the memorial that Lexi put together for Caleb, after he died. It was for Caleb’s dad, who she didn’t see anymore, and who didn’t even know she had a baby.’ He swallowed hard. ‘I think Caleb was your friend because I’m his dad.’

  Emma’s head shot up. ‘Really?’ She thought about it for a minute. ‘Really? So, does that mean he’s really my brother? Not my friend?’

  ‘Half-brother, that’s what they call it when a child has one parent the same with their sibling, and one different.’ Mark tried to shrug off the awkwardness of talking about this with Emma. If he couldn’t handle this, there was no hope for the “Birds and Bees Talk”, which was coming up way too fast for his liking. ‘And he can be your brother and your friend.’

  ‘Oh yeah.’

  ‘No sticky fingers,’ he said as he opened the box and proceeded to show her what was inside.

  ‘He was so little,’ Emma whispered, looking at the tiny yellowed singlet. ‘Because he was sick, I guess. It’s so sad.’

  Mark swallowed down on the lump in his throat. He hadn’t been sure about this, if Emma would understand, but watching her inspect the tiny singlet and armband, he knew that he’d done the right thing. His daughter was such a caring soul. One by one he showed her the mementos to Caleb’s life.

  ‘I was furious when I first found out about Caleb, but I had said some awful things to Lexi the last time I saw her when we were younger, and I understand why she didn’t tell me until now.’ He stared out towards the theatre. ‘I also said some pretty mean things to her when she told me, and I feel rotten about that.’

  Emma nodded. ‘Yep, you can cut the tension in there,’ she gestured to the theatre, ‘with a knife.’

  Mark’s gaze swung to his daughter. ‘Who told you that?’

  ‘Oh, everybody Dad.’ She paused. ‘They all think it’s because you’re going to close the theatre.’

  ‘Well, I want to try and fix things between me and Lexi. After Caleb died, Lexi was alone, and the theatre welcomed her and nurtured her. When Council threatened to redevelop the building, in Lexi’s mind, we attacked that. I understand that now.’ Watching Rivervue’s slick production of Draven’s historical retelling had given him clarity.

  It was never about the theatre. It was about family.

  He looked over at Emma, who was still staring at the contents of Caleb’s memorial.

  Family, whether by blood or by choice, was the most important thing in the world. He wanted Lexi in his life and in his family, and he realised he was prepared to do whatever it took to win her trust again.

  He had to.

  Now that he’d found Lexi, he never wanted to let her go again.

  ‘This is really pretty.’ Emma pointed to the drawing used for Lexi’s tattoo. ‘I like how they’ve made the words into the footprint.’

  ‘Me too.’ Mark paused. ‘You know how I said two surprises.’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘I actually meant three.’ He took the drawing and laid it over his chest. ‘Lexi has this tattooed into the skin over her heart. If you think it’s okay, I’m going to do the same.’

  Emma’s eyes widened, and her mouth dropped open. ‘Lexi has a tattoo? Cool.’

  ‘Yeah, but don’t tell her I told, okay?’

  Emma mimed zipping her lips closed. Then a second later, she unzipped them. ‘Tattoos are way cool, but they hurt. Can I watch?’

  Modern parenting. Always full of surprises.

  ‘I wouldn’t go without you.’ He threw his arm around her shoulders. ‘But, we keep this on the lowdown from Lexi for the time being, okay? I want to surprise her as well.’

  ‘You got it.’ The lips were zipped up again. He hoped Emma understood the importance of secrets, but if she accidently shared, well, so be it. He was all in now, no matter the outcome.

  ‘Right.’ He started packing up the memorial. ‘Let’s get this show on the road. First stop, let’s find the tattoo parlour. Then, Kenzie’s Nanna.’

  ***

  Mark managed to drop Emma back at the theatre right on the cut-off for cast arrivals. It meant they’d missed the briefing, so the first thing he did after moving his car to the overflow car park, was head to Lexi’s office. He found her sitting at her desk, staring at the river, holding tight to the yinyang resin.

  ‘How did the briefing go?’

  She raised her head and stared at him. ‘I thought you would be at the briefing.’

  ‘I had already committed myself elsewhere. Which I would have told you, had you returned my call.’

  Lexi’s mouth opened, like she was going to speak, then she snapped it closed. She closed her eyes and he watched her holding the paperweight. A few seconds later she opened angry eyes and asked, ‘Does Emma know?’

  ‘She knows we got a bad review. She now knows about subjective review. She wanted me to make sure “it didn’t hurt your feelings. Because that’s important”.’ He mimicked his daughter’s falsetto perfectly. ‘She doesn’t understand the wider picture and hasn’t made any link between poor reviews and Council’s project.’

  Lexi put the paperweight down. ‘That’s a positive.’ She paused. ‘You not being at the meeting linked those two things together for a lot of people. What was so important that you couldn’t get there?’

  It was too early to spill the beans. ‘I can’t tell you. What I can tell you is that I wanted to be here, but I made a judgement call to follow through on my plans for the morning.’

  ‘With the mayor. Gloating over the damage that false review would do.’

  ‘What?’ Mark perched next to her on the desk. ‘No. I was doing some scoping.’

  ‘I thought you would understand, having worked with us all these weeks that it was important you were there. Not for me. For them.’ Lexi closed her eyes again. Pain radiated out of her.

  ‘It’s just a review; there are probably going to be hundreds of r
eviews by the time the show closes. It’s not catastrophic.’

  Lexi pushed to her feet. ‘It is catastrophic. No-one funds productions for theatres who have reviews like that. It’s a death sentence.’

  ‘We sent media kits to about a hundred reviewers, not everyone is going to love us. The good reviews will come. It’s just a shame this guy was fast, and he didn’t like it.’

  Lexi’s eyes narrowed. ‘It was fast.’ She stopped to think. ‘He was definitely on your list?’

  ‘Yes, I think so.’ He pulled out his notes. ‘Yes.’

  ‘I wish he wasn’t.’ She paled visibly. ‘Did you know he plays golf with the mayor?’

  ‘That’s got to be a coincidence.’

  Lexi jammed her hands on her hips. ‘Really? First review published, in our local paper, that was potentially printed before we even got on the stage, and it pans us. I think not.’ She took a steadying breath. ‘Well, let’s see what the other ninety-nine reviewers have to say.’

  ‘Lexi, you’re jumping to conclusions. The man is a paid reviewer. He probably gets more for fast reviews.’

  ‘I call BS. Your boss is calling the shots here.’ Red mottling crept up her neck. ‘A professional reviewer would not have accused the cast of clomping. Everyone who works in the arts knows clomping is weeded out in week one.’ She dropped her head into her hands. ‘My cast and crew do not clomp.’

  ‘No, they don’t. The other reviewers will support that position. Don’t worry about it.’

  The way she looked at him, he wondered if he’d made it worse, not better. Then she bit out, ‘Were you involved in this?’

  ‘What? No. Is this about this morning?’ Clearly, she thought he’d spent the morning with the mayor, poring over the bad review and amending Council’s plan of attack. But until he had all of his ducks in a row, he couldn’t give her any details of what he had been doing. And that sucked. ‘I think this will be okay.’

  ‘Okay as in okay for the revitalisation? Well, good for you.’ Her voice had started to shake. ‘You should go. I have to get changed and get downstairs.’