‘We’re not tearing it down, we’re integrating—’
Bruce ignored Andrew’s pitch and turned slowly to Gabriel. ‘And you work for them?’
Gabriel’s fingers massaged the scar at his temple.
‘Yes, he does,’ Andrew said. ‘You should be proud of what Gabriel’s done.’
‘Why? What did you do? Tell them to go to hell?’ Bruce still wasn’t talking to Andrew, and Gabriel still struggled to speak. People were watching, they’d tell Sofia before he even got the chance, and Bruce … Bruce would never speak to him again.
‘Why would he do that?’ Andrew spoke on his behalf. ‘Gabriel is one of our most promising architects. We understand that there’s a lot of emotion around the theatre revitalisation, but we’re doing our best to stay true to the heart of Rivervue and you can thank Gabe for that.’
Andrew thought he was doing him a favour, that the work Gabriel had done was going to make people in Brachen proud of him. Andrew always valued the finished product over any actual connection to a place. He didn’t understand what Rivervue meant. That’s why he’d loved Gabriel’s designs.
‘You did this?’ Bruce’s lips barely moved. The proposal buckled in his fist.
‘It’s not what you think. Can we talk about this later?’
Bruce slowly handed the proposal back to Andrew like a crane shifting a heavy load. He never took his eyes off Gabriel.
‘Andrew, this probably isn’t the best time. Can I call you?’ Gabriel said.
His boss wiped the last dregs of coffee off the cover and put it back into his folio. ‘Sure, Gabriel,’ he said, his gaze uncertain as he looked at Bruce. ‘I’ve got a meeting to get to anyway. But remember what I said. Take as much time as you need.’ Andrew put his hand on Gabriel’s arm. ‘And even if people here don’t appreciate your talent, know that we do.’
Andrew didn’t say goodbye to Bruce and Bruce didn’t acknowledge Andrew’s departure. Gabriel dropped back into his seat and hid his face in his hands. Bruce’s gaze dug into his back. No mistaking the attention this time.
‘Can you stop looking at me like that?’ Gabriel said.
‘I’m waiting for an explanation.’
Gabriel dropped his hands and looked up at Bruce. Arms folded across his chest, skin reddening, eyes as hard as diamond. Others watched them too, waiting for the latest piece of gossip. Whether they knew the truth or not, they’d set some story pinging around Brachen within the hour.
Gabriel stood. ‘Not here.’ He left the cafe with Bruce close behind him. He made for the bridge across the river. He wanted to keep running but they’d barely gone a quarter of the way before Bruce demanded he stop.
‘What’s going on? Did you really come up with those designs?’
He couldn’t turn around. Not yet. The truth deep inside was battened down with so many ropes that undoing them risked unleashing other secrets. But Bruce had seen the proposal. He’d heard what Andrew said. He was stuck. Just like he’d been stuck when the bruises and the cut lip and the black eye had forced his parents to ask him why he’d been fighting. He’d run out of places to hide.
Bruce was so close he could have kissed him. Too close. He took a step back. ‘Yes, I drew them.’
‘Is that why you really came back? To get a good look inside the theatre so you could find the best way to tear it down?’
Bruce’s mistrust hacked into his chest, chipping away some of the shame and cutting through to the marrow where the sting was greatest.
‘Do you really think I’d use my mother’s illness as an excuse? Do you really think that little of me?’ He spoke fast because he had to free the words before his throat jammed.
‘What am I meant to think? You never told me you were working on the theatre.’
‘That’s because I was ashamed. I’d forgotten I’d even done those designs so to see them there was as much a shock for me as it was for you.’
‘I find that hard to believe.’
‘It’s the truth. I’m not lying to you. I didn’t tell anyone about the theatre because I was planning on quitting. I didn’t want to work on the redevelopment and I couldn’t be associated with the company that was.’
‘Then why didn’t you quit sooner?’
‘Because I had more important things to deal with.’ He leaned against the bridge’s railing. The water flowed calmly. He wanted a raging river to match the churn inside his chest and to drown out the sound of his thoughts. Bruce didn’t believe him. Bruce would never forgive him. For any of it. Even the stuff that wasn’t true.
‘More important things than being honest?’
‘Bruce, I wasn’t being dishonest.’ He’d argue with the giant but he wasn’t listening. He may as well have been a statue. Rage and hurt blocked Bruce’s hearing. ‘There was no point in telling anyone, especially not you, if I wasn’t going to be working on them. I screwed up but it’s not my fault that council wants to redevelop the theatre. I was trying to keep people from getting hurt.’
‘You were only worrying about yourself.’
More cuts to his core. Some of them had been true, others a little off but no less painful. ‘I didn’t do any of this to cause problems. I love the theatre as much as you do and I don’t want to see it ruined.’
‘Then why give them the ideas to do it?’
‘Because that’s what I do.’ His hands shook as he pleaded for Bruce to see sense. He was nearly cut through. He’d fall without much more effort. And he’d take Bruce down with him. ‘I’ve always done it. Give me an idea and I’ll start working on it. I like to draw, for God’s sake. I like to solve problems.’
‘The theatre isn’t a problem.’ Bruce glowered down over him.
‘Well, it obviously is for us. I’m sorry you had to see that but I didn’t do this to hurt
