‘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 man 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
