Perfect on Paper by Gillian Harvey (top 20 books to read txt) 📕

upper arm and gave her another squeeze. ‘Honestly, don’t let it get to you. They’re not worth it. We’ll show them.’

‘Thank you.’ They smiled at each other. ‘Yes, we bloody well will.’

Afterwards, the day moulded into its usual shape. At lunchtime, Clare stayed at her desk, still catching up with yesterday’s backlog and wondering what would happen if she actually was sick and out of the office for a week – would the entire conveyancing world grind to a halt?

Just after lunch her phone flashed with an unknown number and she picked it up.

‘Hello? Clare Bailey speaking?’

‘Hi – can I speak to Martha?’

‘Martha?’

‘Yes, have I got the right number?’

A sudden realisation. Martha.

‘Oh, yes. Well, speaking. Martha is my …’ she paused, wondering how to explain. ‘Well, I suppose it’s my stage name.’

‘Ah, OK. Understood,’ said the voice. ‘Look, it’s Susan Chalmers – you know, from the talent session?’

‘Oh, right?’

‘Yes. I’ve been talking with some of the others and we wondered whether you might consider coming back to see us.’

‘Really?’ Her stomach churned. ‘But I thought …’

‘Yes. But …’ there was a pause. ‘Look, this might sound a little odd – but we’re thinking of putting together a group. There weren’t as many musical acts as you might expect at the initial audition, and we really want to put Hatfield on the map, you know?’

‘Right. But my act was poetry, so …’

‘Yes, yes. Sorry, I should have explained. We rather hoped you might join together with one of the groups that came forward.’

‘Right?’ Perhaps they wanted to use her poem as lyrics. But it wasn’t exactly the kind of thing that would lend itself to a song, especially one sung by someone probably much younger than her.

‘Yes. Look, there’s this troupe of dancers … They auditioned straight after you.’

‘Oh, the dance group! Yes, I saw them.’

‘Lovely lads, quite deprived backgrounds. Wonderful dancers.’

‘OK?’

‘Well, and of course you’ll have seen the TV talent shows in the past – the groups.’

‘Yes?’ Clare was struggling to see how this related to her.

‘Well, they’re good – as I say – but they need a … a USP. You know, something unique.’

‘Right?’

‘So, what do you think?’

‘What do I think about what?’

‘Well, we loved your poem. The rhythm … the sentiment. But we wondered – would you think about rapping it?’

‘Rapping?’ Clare looked down at her work clothes, at her messy desk, at her typically dusty, legal office. She must have misheard. ‘You want me to rap? Me?’

‘Yes. Well, to try. I just think … well, these boys as I say, need something extra … The producers are actually quite excited about the idea. The whole generations coming together thing. It’s very now. Embraces some of the community-mindedness the channel are championing at the moment.’

‘But what about someone their age. A singer? Someone … you know?’

‘Yes, I do understand. It’s just we wondered. Well, it could be fun. It might get people’s attention. I didn’t say so at the time, but your poem. It really got me thinking. Why do people judge women of a certain age?’ Susan lowered her voice as if admitting to a terrible secret.

‘Well, yes …’

‘And of course you can’t have a twenty-something kid giving out that message.’

‘No.’

‘And you know, the poem was quite rhythmic. Dan, he’s the boys’ manager, reckons he could make it work.’

‘I just … I can’t rap. I never …’

‘I understand. But will you consider it? All we’d want would be for you guys to get together and have a go – see how it works. And if it does work,’ Susan paused, ‘we might put you forward!’

‘Put us forward?’

‘Yes, you know. For the next leg of You’ve Got Talent. It’s just at the Grand Theatre – not the biggest venue. But it will be filmed so they can use some in the show. Proceeds to charity. The winning acts might get onto the live shows – so fame and fortune may await!’ Susan laughed nervously.

‘I’m sorry,’ Clare said, feeling a little faint with the bizarreness of the conversation. ‘I just don’t think …’

‘Look, I realise it’s a lot. But give it some thought, please? Don’t say no immediately.’

‘OK, I’ll think about it,’ Clare said, before hanging up.

She laughed incredulously as she put her mobile back on her desk. Had that really happened? Someone had literally just asked her to rap.

She wouldn’t do it of course. She’d be a laughing stock! But still – it was a compliment to her poems, surely? And something she could regale Steph with over coffee at the weekend.

As a solicitor, she was used to being asked difficult questions. But being asked to become a rapper had to be the strangest one yet.

Chapter Eleven

An hour later, Clare’s mobile buzzed with an unknown number and she almost didn’t answer. But then, after all, she thought, the day had already reached peak absurdity. She surely had nothing to fear.

‘Hello?’ she said, expecting sales.

‘Clare?’

‘Yes?’

‘It’s Dan.’

‘Right?’ she wracked her brain for a Dan. Nothing.

‘Yeah, look. I’m the coach of Eezee Troupe.’

‘Oh … the, the dancing group?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Oh. Hi.’ She felt oddly self-conscious, remembering that smile of his.

‘I think we spoke yesterday, briefly? Before the audition? I spoke to Susan and she told me about this rap idea.’

‘Yes. Look, no offense but it’s not really my …’

‘I know. Look, I get it. I thought you’d probably say no.’

‘Oh phew! I was worried you were going to try to force me to … well, you know, rap.’ Even the idea of it made her cheeks feel hot with embarrassment. Bullet dodged! There was a pause.

‘Well, maybe I am a bit,’ he replied.

‘What?’

‘Look, I thought you might not want to. I know you’re busy. I get it. But, well, could you at least think about it? Come tonight, just for a few minutes. Watch us rehearse.’

‘It’s not that I’m busy … it’s just … Well – I’m me!’ She gestured to herself sitting at a desk, sensible suit, corporate dress. But of course he couldn’t see her. Anyone who did would surely