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

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Set the Stage (A Rivervue Community Theatre Romance, #2) Page 4

by Daniel De Lorne


  The cast appeared on stage and he knew most of them by sight, if not all by name. Kenzie had been given the lead role, a surprise considering she was crew through and through. He was interested to see her act. she’d had to ring off because of hay fever? Did she even get hay fever?

  Lexi wanted to run through as much of act one as possible. The few crew who were there—Bruce included—would map out early plans for the tech run. The sets were on hold until Sofia was ready.

  Hamish stood beside Lexi, jotting down the occasional note, but he spent most of the time tapping the air with two fingers in Bruce’s direction. Bruce wrote down everything he was ordered to, the notebook buckling under the force of his hand. He scowled at the page and his pale freckled skin flushed. Hamish had that effect on people but this was worse than usual. In the past, Bruce had weathered Hamish’s egotism with sunshine. Now he was in the grip of a full hurricane.

  Lexi finished giving her instructions and Bruce beat the curtain aside, vanishing backstage. What was going on with him? Gabriel gripped the arm of the chair, old habits preparing him to launch from his seat and go talk to him, but if the secret of working on the redevelopment was a weight, then the remorse over their failed friendship added another tonne. Bruce didn’t want anything from him, not even his sympathy.

  The actors went to their positions and prepared for act one, scene one. He relaxed his hold on the fabric armrest. Staying out of Bruce’s way was the right thing to do.

  Sofia took out her pad, a pencil and the script. He asked if he could have a look at it. She handed it over then worked on refining the set designs she’d already drawn. The script stopped at the end of act one.

  ‘Where’s the rest of it?’ he whispered.

  ‘Lexi’s still writing it.’

  He frowned in disbelief but Sofia just shrugged her shoulders and went back to her sketches.

  So not only was his mother coming up with a full concept while sick, she had to do it blind and at the last minute. He sighed, which earned him a pat on the leg from Sofia while she continued working away on her pad. He scanned through the little there was of the script—some retelling of the life of Brachen’s most famous son, Ron de Vue—and thankfully there was an overview of where every act took place. Brachen, Hollywood, North Africa—varied locations that would be difficult to render seamlessly on stage. They’d have to be rich though, no minimalism here, but also true to form for such iconic locations, Brachen especially. He read while Sofia sketched, but as the rehearsal progressed into the third scene, her hand weakened, her lines became scratchy and thin. He looked over at her ideas for Brachen.

  ‘What do you think about adding some sort of vehicle here?’ He pointed to the paper, drawing attention away from her flagging strength. ‘It can act as a divide between the two sides of the stage, separating the timeline: 1950s Americana on one side, beat-up old Holden on the other.’

  ‘That’s a great idea.’ She went to draw it but her hand failed. ‘Would you do it for me?’ she whispered. ‘Please?’

  He hesitated. This was her thing. He hadn’t meant to offer advice and he didn’t want to take over. ‘Are you sure?’

  She nodded, slid the sketchpad over to him, and offered him the pencil.

  He was only going to be her hands. The ideas would be hers all the way. Finally there was something he could do for her other than fret. He retraced her lines and made them bolder, then built in the car. She rested her head on his shoulder and watched him draw, then added more of her own thoughts, suggesting a modification here and here which he loved. They worked to and fro, piecing together concepts, scrubbing out what wasn’t working, and by the time Lexi called a break on scene four, they had completed one set.

  ‘What do you think?’ He held it up where they could both see it better. His body warmed from the pride of what they’d created. Together.

  ‘It’s a bit more complex than what I usually give them.’

  His heart stuttered, coughing out hot ash that scalded his insides. Would they know this wasn’t all her work? He took the pad back. How could he be so stupid? He’d remove some of the complexities, scale it back. He always did this. Went too far. He’d enjoyed doing it but he didn’t want to take even the slightest bit of this away from her.

  She placed her hand over his before he could erase anything. ‘But I love it. It’s exactly what we need if this is to be Rivervue’s final production.’

  He smiled at her but his lips and cheeks felt tight, burned, as they stretched. She might like it, but he’d make the changes anyway. He’d brought enough change in her life, Rivervue’s final act shouldn’t be tainted with interference.

  ‘Should we get started on the second scene?’ Her eyes shone.

  He opened his mouth to say they should take a break but shouting erupted from the back of the stage and Lexi and Hamish stormed through.

  Chapter Six

  ‘I don’t understand what you’re trying to do!’

  Hamish’s voice shattered Bruce’s concentration. He was meshing his and Hamish’s notes from the scene run-throughs and trying to fashion them into something usable. Whispers twinkled through the crew as they hurried to the curtain. He rushed out of his seat and joined them on the edges of the stage where Hamish and Lexi faced off like two actors preparing for the final scene of Macbeth.

  Or just about any scene in Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?

  ‘You’ll just have to trust me, Hamish.’ Lexi clipped the ends of her words.

  Hamish positioned himself on downstage left, spread his stance and put his hands on his hips. ‘And look where we are after trusting you for the past six years.’

  Her chin jutted forward. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ If anyone was to blame for the theatre closing down, it was the council and their refusal to extend the lease.

  ‘Exactly what it means. No subtext there, Lexi, because I know it’s not your forte.’

  Bruce’s hands closed into fists. He buzzed with the urge to defend Lexi but this was her fight and had been a long time coming.

  ‘If you’re unhappy with the way things are going, Hamish, you’re always welcome to talk to me about it.’

  ‘I did! I’ve pleaded with you time and again for the rest of the script and you wouldn’t listen.’ That was true. Hamish complained to whoever would stay long enough in his presence. He usually started after fifteen seconds.

  She folded her arms. ‘I always listened, but just because you have a suggestion, doesn’t mean it’s going to be something I agree with. This is the way I’m managing things and it will have to do. I’m the one responsible for the theatre and I’ll live and die by my decisions.’ Her finger speared towards the floor, her voice cracking with the force of her gesture. The potential closure of the theatre affected everybody who loved it, and Lexi loved it deeply.

  Hamish, however, expected the theatre to serve his ego. Finally he was having his moment in the spotlight. Or he would have if this were the tech run. Instead he’d have to settle for the glare of an unsympathetic audience.

  ‘The problem is you’ve taken the theatre down with you. It’s unprofessional, Lexi. Everyone agrees.’ Hamish exhorted the crowd for backing but no-one bolstered his claim. No heads hung in shame. And while Bruce’s skin burned it burned with righteous fury. Hamish had always angled for more responsibility, more power, more prestige—without ever wanting to do the work. That had fallen to Bruce—often, and with great heft.

  ‘How about this?’ Lexi addressed the cast and crew. ‘Anyone who thinks I’ve brought about the failing of the theatre can leave now so they’re not tainted with any of the blame.’

  Hamish jerked back. She’d called his bluff. He blustered but Lexi was implacable. Hamish searched for support but it was as lacking as his work ethic.

  ‘Very well.’ His chin tilted up. ‘If that’s the way you feel about it, then I can see my services are no longer required.’

  If Bruce were a different sort of person, one who liked to kick a m
an when he was down, he would have said something about laziness being anything but a service. However, he kept quiet, especially because Hamish’s impending departure awakened a prickling in his stomach.

  ‘Goodbye.’ Hamish marched to the back of the stage, his dramatic exit foiled as he got tangled in the curtains. Someone stifled a laugh, which earned them a final glare from the ex-stage manager before he disappeared. After five tense seconds, the back door slammed.

  Lexi unfroze with the sound, as if she were shaking off a chill. Her shoulders sagged under the weight of a heavy breath. She rubbed her hands together, taking a moment to prepare herself before lifting her head and talking to the ensemble. ‘I’m sorry you had to witness that, everyone. I hope you all know that’s not how I like to do things but …’ She spread her hands.

  ‘Don’t worry, Lexi. You’ve got our support,’ Bruce shouted. Six years of dealing with Hamish took its toll. Bruce knew. He’d been doing it for more than ten, right from when Hamish joined. Lexi had put up with a lot, the constant undermining and questioning of her abilities. It was a wonder Rivervue ever put on a play.

  Cheers followed which prompted a small laugh and a big smile from Lexi. She ducked her head to wipe at her eyes. ‘Right.’ She clapped her hands together. ‘I think that’s enough excitement for one night. Great job, everyone. Let’s call it quits and I’ll see you next week.’ She looked around, meeting the eyes of a few, but then she locked onto Bruce and grinned.

  Damn! He should have run.

  ‘Bruce, a word?’

  He sighed as she approached. ‘Yes, Lexi?’

  Here it comes.

  He could say no. He couldn’t afford—literally—to do more work for free or else he’d find himself settling into the props room with Kenzie’s mate, Dylan.

  Be strong. Say no.

  ‘Bruce, I know we already rely on you a lot. But I was wondering if you’d like to take over as stage manager.’

  He massaged the back of his neck, hoping it would coax out that one short word. It refused to come so he had to settle for a mangled set of six. ‘Deputy is good enough for me.’

  ‘We both know you do most of the work around here. It’d be nice if you had the title to go with it.’

  ‘It’s not the title, Lexi.’

  How could he say it without sounding desperate? The theatre couldn’t afford to pay everyone. Lexi took a salary because it was her job; everyone else was a volunteer. He only got paid for the sets to cover the cost of materials and a fraction of his time. Even then he went above and beyond to make sure they got their money’s worth. He’d lost count of the freebies he’d done on the theatre building itself. He did it because the theatre was safe, a second home, and he loved being a part of it, but if he let it take up too much of his time then he’d be in strife.

  Worse strife.

  She took his arm, pulled him close and lowered her voice. ‘How about a stipend?’

  His neck and shoulders clenched, seizing the muscles that flanked his spine. What had she heard? ‘It’s not the money—’

  ‘Bruce, you don’t have to be modest. There’s always been a stipend, but Hamish never did enough to warrant it. When I took over, I wanted a strong person in that position—a partner—and I rearranged the budget so I could pay for it, but Hamish was already stage manager and he and I never got along. He was happy with the title. But I’ve kept the money there in case someone—in case you—one day became my SM.’

  She thought that highly of him? He just did what he had to do. His back relaxed a little, warmth spreading through the base of his spine. ‘But you’re already paying me for the sets.’

  ‘And so I should! Considering what a fantastic job you do, it’d cost us four times as much to get them done by anybody else and we’d get nowhere near the same quality. But paying you for the stage manager job would be the right thing to do.’

  The tension faded out of his body. ‘That’s very generous of you, Lexi,’ he murmured.

  ‘Don’t say that until you see how small it is, but it’d mean a lot if you were my SM and I’ll pay for that privilege.’

  He snorted. ‘Sounds like you’re propositioning me.’

  ‘Oh, I am,’ she chuckled. ‘And luckily not in a way that you’d find attractive. What do you say?’

  He already coordinated the designers and the stage crew, and if it wasn’t for his notes, over half of the decisions Lexi made during the rehearsals wouldn’t be recorded. Hamish maintained a stranglehold on the scheduling and delighted in bossing people around during the rehearsals when Lexi wasn’t available. Without Hamish’s unique management style, things would run a lot smoother and with fewer complaints. He could fit it all in. And if he wanted the money, he’d have to.

  He looked around to make sure no-one was within earshot. ‘Can I ask how much the stipend is?’

  ‘It’s two hundred per week for the run of the production, which would make it about twelve hundred all up.’

  She was right. It wasn’t much but it was something. And any money would help with his mortgage repayments. If it was going to make any difference, he had to sign on now. Besides, he didn’t want to let Lexi down after the faith she put in him.

  ‘Alright, I’ll be your SM.’

  ‘Perfect!’ She jumped in his arms, knocking the wind from his lungs.

  He hugged her, lifting her feet off the ground, and she laughed. They made a great team. It was a shame they’d only have one chance. Despite the warmth, a chill scratched the edges of his heart. When—if—Rivervue closed he’d have more time … More time to sit at home alone. If he still had a home then. He put her down before he shivered.

  She straightened her dress and smoothed out her demeanour. ‘Right, now that’s sorted, about the sets. Sofia hasn’t submitted a design yet, but I’m hoping for something soon. It will mean you’re going to be up against it getting them done in time.’

  What else is new?

  There wasn’t a single production over his twenty years in the theatre that hadn’t involved a mad panic at the end. Perhaps this time they should take it slow and make it harder for them to be evicted. But did Sofia have that kind of time?

  ‘Are you sure we should put her under this kind of pressure considering her health?’ The sight of her collapsing in the back garden like a shot kangaroo still caused his stomach to clench.

  Lexi’s eyes pinched. ‘I can’t take it away from her, even if it would be for her own good, but let’s keep an eye on her. I don’t want you to be too stretched for time and we need to get the sets done asap.’

  ‘Same with the costumes.’

  Lexi gnawed her bottom lip. ‘We’ll get it done.’ Her hand bat the air as if that were enough to shoo away the deadline’s buzz. He recognised her faux-confidence, the hope that everything would magically work out. He’d tried it himself and all it had done was bring him closer to eviction. ‘Right, I’ve got to talk to Kenzie and Richard. I’ll see you later.’

  He needed to be bold. That’s what people expected of someone his size—the kind of person who’d run into a burning building. He’d do that forty times over if it meant he didn’t have to ask people for money.

  ‘Before you go,’ he blurted.

  ‘Yeah?’

  He cleared the gravel cutting his throat. ‘I hate to ask but when do you think I’ll get my first pay?’

  ‘Probably about three weeks considering how slow payroll moves at the council. Honestly, it’s a wonder anyone who does business with them survives.’

  ‘Oh.’ He needed it before then and he’d never get it out of the council sooner if their strict sixty-day terms were anything to go by.

  ‘Is everything alright, Bruce?’ She put a hand on his shoulder.

  He straightened and it slipped off. He forced a smile. ‘Yeah, all left too. You have a good night.’ He headed to the front of the stage before she could enquire further. He didn’t want anyone to know about his financial problems, not even Lexi. She wouldn’t tell anyone but ev
en speaking them aloud was too much like admitting a failure. And yet he had to call in his debts or he’d lose the house. His stomach sloshed with the thought, and as he bent and leaped off the front of the stage, the back of his throat burned with acid fire. He swallowed it back down, took a breath to quell the nausea and looked up to find himself the subject of Gabriel’s fierce attention.

  Questions streaked through those dark eyes, and Bruce froze like he’d been caught. Doing what, he wasn’t sure. Just caught. In Gabriel’s net.

  Again.

  Gabriel quickly turned to his mother and said something to her. She looked better than the other day, not as pale, upright at least, but frail. God, to think of her in that way. He hated it.

  He strode up to the Moras and gave Gabriel a curt nod before ignoring him. The less he had to do with Gabriel, the better he’d be. He had enough problems without letting the Dark Angel back into his life. Then why did he flex his biceps as he gripped the back of the seat of the row in front of them? Why did he give Sofia his warmest smile?

  So Gabriel could see he was doing fine, that he was better than fine, that Jason and Gabriel’s betrayal had had no lasting effect. But as hard as he tried to make his outside tough, his insides melted under Gabriel’s simple study.

  ‘How are you feeling today, Sofia?’

  ‘All the better for being here, Bruce.’ She touched his forearm, her skin cold, but he’d been moving around while she’d sat in a draughty theatre so perhaps that accounted for the temperature difference. ‘Thank you for being there the other day. Who knows what would have happened if you hadn’t?’

  ‘Don’t mention it. I bet you’re happy to have Gabriel around.’ He nodded in her son’s direction. It was a cheap stab but the slash of Gabriel’s mouth showed he bled. Perhaps he’d treat those who loved him better in future.

 

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