‘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 even 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.
‘I’d prefer it if he were back in Sydney getting on with his life but he’ll go soon enough.’
I bet he will.
‘How are you going with the set designs?’
Sofia glanced at Gabriel. ‘Getting there.’ She lifted the sketchpad off her lap and flicked through a few pages until she stopped at one to show him. ‘This is what I’m thinking for the first act. I had to borrow Gabriel’s hands. Mine are a little tired at the moment. What do you think?’
The strong angles and lines of the professional architect popped off the page, their intensity resonating in Bruce’s chest. He recognised the style from years before when Gabriel had never been without a pencil and pad. While Bruce had his hands full with Jason, Gabriel kept his busy drawing. Quite a few pictures had been of Bruce, the face blank but the shape recognisable, dressed in suits and outfits too cool for him ever to wear in real life. He’d kept some, but it had been ages since he’d taken them out of the bottom drawer.
‘You drew this?’
Gabriel shifted in his seat, his face devoid of any antagonism, any pride. ‘Yeah, but they’re all Mum’s ideas.’
When Gabriel left to pursue a career in Sydney, Bruce wondered if he’d made the right choice. Brachen was the place to be an artist. You came to Brachen to follow a calling. Sydney … Well, Sydney was where you went to get a job.
And to hide from the hurt you caused.
He stopped staring at Gabriel. Did he really expect an apology after all this time? He looked back at the sketch, noting Gabriel’s stylised ‘GM’ in the corner and focused on the set itself. His forehead contracted. Hard. This was no static backdrop made of a few pieces of wooden board hammered together with a support. This was … This was big deal stuff. Doors were no problem. Windows too. But … did that rotate? Were those moving parts? His hopes of banging something together evaporated and the smoke tickled his throat.
‘Looks like you’re going all out for the final play, Sofia.’
All the way out.
‘Well, it’s a start. I’m aiming to finish the rest by next week to show Lexi. And you of course. But I really want to help make this the best production Rivervue’s ever seen.’
He fashioned his smile out of frayed nerves and handed back the sketchpad, keeping the front-facing part of him light and friendly, while a cold sweat coated the back of his neck. He glanced at Gabriel, his eyebrows peaked in the middle and his mulberry lips thinned as he worried over his mother. How much of a toll was this going to take on Sofia? And would Gabriel be able to handle it?
‘I look forward to seeing them.’ He stood to go. She needed rest. And he needed to find a cushion to roar his frustrations into.
‘Are you coming by tomorrow to work on the gazebo?’ She struggled to stand. Gabriel shot up and slipped his hand under her arm. His whole attention was on her, searching for signs of pain. Bruce studied him
