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

‘You’ll work with us?’

All the wide-eyed, expectant faces were just too much for her.

She thought about what might happen if they did get through and their act was featured on the TV show. For her, it could be embarrassing. Did anyone want a solicitor who moonlighted as a rap star? She’d read plenty of articles where people had a side-hustle, but usually people tended to stick to crafty activities such as crochet or embroidering bags. Not stickin’ it to the man.

She’d spent ten years getting to where she was, professionally speaking. Working her way up to become the highest biller in the firm. Spending evenings reading legal texts to keep up to date. Putting in the hours. This should be her time to reap the rewards.

Then she thought of Nigel, how he’d had his head turned by a new recruit and how she’d now fallen off his radar. How, despite all her hard work, she’d been relegated to a coat-cupboard office. How no matter what she did, nobody seemed to value or notice her at all. She might as well be invisible.

Without Dan’s input, these boys would also be invisible – little numbers vaguely referred to in government reports and crime statistics. But she could change that. Or at least try to help.

She could be the novelty frontman to their act, get them on centre stage and let them make the most of the light of fame shining on them, however briefly. Perhaps it wouldn’t damage her career – and it could be life changing for them. And maybe she could do it as ‘Martha’ – and not get noticed at all.

‘Look, you’re great. I just … Let me think about it,’ she said.

It was as if they’d won the lottery. The boys rushed for her en masse and nearly knocked her to the floor. She’d never been the recipient of such a large and enthusiastic hug. Laughing, she looked across at Dan who was watching her, his head nodding slightly, his brown eyes warm.

The taxi home cost another twenty-three pounds, which meant her little excursion to see the troupe had been more expensive than her bus fare for a week. But it had been fun to watch them dance.

She had no doubt that they’d go far, with or without her. She was just their ticket through the stage door.

‘Hi!’ she called into the quiet hallway when she arrived home.

Silence.

She pushed open the kitchen door and saw that the kitchen she’d tidied up before she left was now strewn with glasses, crumb-covered plates and soggy teabags. ‘Alfie?’

‘He’s gone to football practice,’ said Katie, suddenly appearing behind her. ‘He’s not back for tea, apparently.’

‘Great.’

‘Dad’s home, he’s just gone to the shop.’

‘Right.’

Her daughter walked past her and put a dirty plate on the kitchen table.

‘Couldn’t you put that next to the sink? Or even better, wash it up?’ Clare asked.

Sighing, Katie picked up the plate and plonked it on the pile next to the sink. She was making a point, but not prepared to go to the length of washing a plate up to prove it.

‘Thanks,’ Clare responded sarcastically.

‘S’OK.’

‘Shall I put the pizza in?’

‘I’ve had toast now.’

‘Right.’

‘Oh, Mum?’

‘Yes?’

‘Can I FaceTime Tessa?’

Half an hour later, Clare was in the kitchen, picking over a large pizza and feeling thoroughly lonely.

Over on the other side of town were thirteen young men who had been overjoyed to see her.

The boys in that little dance troupe needed her. And, although she hadn’t seen it before, perhaps she needed them a little bit too.

The phone rang just once before Dan answered.

‘Clare?’

‘Hi, Dan.’

There was a pause.

‘Everything OK?’

‘Yes. I just …’ She paused – was she really going to do this? ‘I just thought I’d ring because, well, I’ve thought about it and – well, I’m in.’

Chapter Twelve

Clare was surprised the next day to find a hump beside her in bed. Which snored. She glanced at her phone. It was only 6 a.m. She poked the hump.

‘Toby?’

‘Eh?’

‘Tobe – wake up. We need to talk.’ Telling Dan a definite yes, taking charge of her life and making decisions yesterday had felt good. And although it was a small thing, it had made her realise just how much she’d given up on herself – how she let life happen to her rather than taking charge. Well, no more, she’d decided. It was time to take back control.

‘Eh?’ he rolled over and looked at her out of one eye.

‘Toby, I’m buying a car today.’

This, it seemed, was the impetus he needed. He sprang up onto an elbow – both eyes open now. ‘But …’ He looked at her open mouthed as if she’d told him she was growing a beard or taking up sumo wrestling.

‘But nothing, Toby,’ she said firmly. ‘If you want to trade in your car and take the train, that’s fine. But I can’t spend another morning running for the bus.’

‘OK,’ he nodded. ‘Fair enough … although …?’

‘Although?’ she challenged.

‘It’s just the money …’ he said, weakly. As well he might, with a wardrobe bursting with designer threads and having recently bought a car worth as much as a two-storey extension.

‘Don’t worry,’ she said. ‘I’ve done some sums, and we can. I don’t need much. Just something, you know?’

He reached out and ran his finger softly along the curve of her face. ‘I’m sorry. I don’t know why I bought that car. It’s … well, I just wanted to fit in, you know?’

‘I know … the whole car park thing.’

‘Yeah, only I’ve realised that most of the top-notch execs are taking the train now. Or biking even. All about the green credentials suddenly.’

‘Toby,’ she said, suddenly. ‘Have you thought about what you want?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I don’t know. All these new clothes, this new image. It’s great – you look great. But do you … is it really you?’

He shrugged. ‘It’s kind of me. A better me.’

‘According to?’

He was silent for a minute. ‘You’re right,’ he said. ‘I’m being an idiot.’

‘I didn’t say that.’

As their eyes met, she felt