His eyes widened.
Lexi gave him a small nod and turned back to his mother. ‘But of course, Sofia, if you don’t feel well, promise me you’ll let Gabe take you home. No point in being a hero about it.’
‘The only one trying to be a hero is him.’ Sofia squeezed his hand and smiled.
How much energy did that reassuring smile take?
‘Lexi, we were in the middle of a discussion,’ Hamish said behind her.
Lexi rolled her eyes and gave Gabriel a conspirator’s smile. ‘Absolutely, Hamish, what were we saying?’ She rubbed Gabriel’s arm. ‘Good to see you.’ She walked away with Hamish yapping at her.
Cast and crew came by to see how Sofia fared. He sat in silence, seeing the love and affection they had for her in this second home. What would she do if it closed? She would survive this illness—no doubt allowed—but if she didn’t have Rivervue when she was better, what would keep her vibrant?
When they’d moved to Brachen nine years earlier, she was exhausted and terrified, but the theatre gave her purpose, one that didn’t have anything to do with keeping him safe. Gabriel scratched his scar, the only remaining sign of the battle they’d gone through, and the one that had led them here and given him a new life. Rivervue had been her chance for rebirth too.
And now it might be closing.
Lexi called everyone together to begin rehearsals. Sandbags weighed heavy on his stomach and no amount of fidgeting could dislodge them. He had no reason to tell Sofia about the work he’d been doing at Y Studio because it wouldn’t go any further. That was in the past and he was all about her healthy future. He slouched deeper into the seat, trying to shift the weight without drawing the attention of those on stage. He wasn’t hiding. No-one here knew. The chairs had always been uncomfortable.
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
