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

‘Really?’

‘Yeah, really. I just think you’re brilliant. Really brilliant.’ He shrugged, as if it was obvious.

‘Oh.’ She looked at him for a minute – was he saying he liked her? It was impossible to imagine.

He leaned in slightly and she thought for a moment he might kiss her. But then he seemed to check himself. ‘Well, see you, Clare,’ he said, straightening up.

‘See you, Dan.’

Her hands on the wheel felt slightly sweaty. Why? she wondered. Nerves? Excitement? Would she, she wondered … If he had kissed her would she have kissed him back?

She started the car as Dan walked slowly back to the hall. ‘Seat belt, seat belt, seat belt,’ said Claudia.

‘Thanks, car,’ Clare said. Then, ‘Claudia, radio.’

‘Radio on.’

The radio blared out an advert for solid-wood furniture.

‘News,’ Clare said.

And suddenly, when the channel changed, Clare heard a voice she recognised. ‘Claudia, turn up the volume.’

‘Turning up volume.’

‘ … that giving women a voice is crucial in this day and age,’ the man’s voice was saying. It was Toby! ‘But it’s about finding the right sort of voice. All this hashtag stuff – all the protests – there must be a better way – and that’s where I come in.’

‘So, you feel you can represent women, despite being male?’ the newscaster asked, her voice incredulous. ‘What insight do you think you can bring to the role?’

‘Well, as a husband and a father to a young girl, I’m more than aware of the difficulties women still face in society,’ he said.

‘Really?’

‘My wife, for example, she finds herself incredibly frustrated at work at times.’

Clare turned up the volume a little more; perhaps Toby was listening to her occasionally after all.

‘Of course, we frequently talk about her concerns, and I like to flatter myself that I understand what it’s like to be a working mother.’

‘Right,’ the interviewer sounded yet to be convinced. ‘What about your daughter? What’s that dynamic like?’

‘We talk – I mean, she’s almost a teenager, so she doesn’t tell me everything, I’m sure! But she does confide in me.’

‘About what?’

‘Now that would be telling,’ he said, with a chuckle.

‘That all sounds wonderful, Toby,’ the interviewer interjected. ‘But do you really think you can provide the insight that the viewers have come to expect? For example, what’s your take on the chronic dissatisfaction that women seem to be feeling – highlighted by the rise of the MehToo movement?’

‘Ah yes,’ Toby replied. ‘Well, MehToo, while an interesting concept, is really a protest about nothing. A bit of fun online, if you like. Women wanting to be noticed by the men in their lives, that kind of thing.’

‘Really?’ The newscaster’s tone became a little more clipped.

‘Absolutely,’ Toby replied confidently. ‘That’s what women want more than anything.’

In the driver’s seat, Clare grimaced. It was like watching her husband walking into a lions’ den with absolutely no understanding of the danger he was in.

‘But saying that, I would welcome a dialogue – a consultation if you will – with this Maggie character so that we can discuss more positive ways forward.’

‘That was Toby Bailey, newly appointed presenter for Woman’s World, speaking earlier about his role,’ a voice-over cut in. ‘Now to the weather …’

It wasn’t entirely a disaster, Clare thought to herself as she parked the car. ‘Handbrake, handbrake, handbrake,’ Claudia said as she put the gear into neutral.

‘Calm down,’ Clare said, clicking up on the brake.

‘You are now parked. You are now parked. You are now parked.’

She unlocked the door to exit the car.

‘Press one for alarm. Press one for alarm. Press one for alarm …’

‘Oh, shut up,’ she snapped, pressing the button as she was told. Honestly, was there anything more paranoid than modern technology?

Chapter Twenty-Eight

‘So,’ Clare said, walking into the living room after dinner and sweeping a pile of crisp packets, abandoned jumpers and dirty plates to one side so she could sit down. ‘You must be on top of the world!’

Because even though it was probably the most ridiculous appointment in the history of TV, it was still impressive that her husband had suddenly risen to prominence, even if partly on a misapprehension about his feminist credentials.

‘Yeah,’ he said, his brow furrowed.

She pushed another pile of rubbish to the side to make room for him. ‘What’s wrong? Come and sit down.’

‘Oh, thanks,’ he said. ‘I couldn’t find a space.’

‘You know, you could, maybe, move some things?’ she said, trying to keep the edge out of her voice. Because telling him to tidy up wasn’t part of the plan. He had to realise it for himself. Hopefully before they all contracted salmonella.

‘Yeah, right,’ he said, thoughtfully. ‘You know, maybe the house is getting too small for us now, though. I never noticed it before. But the last couple of weeks, things have seemed a bit well … cramped.’

‘Right.’

‘I can’t put my finger on why, but suddenly it’s as if everything’s sort of closing in. Maybe we need to move?’

‘Possibly.’ Clare tried to remain calm. If she let the stress get the better of her she’d end up pointing out the obvious, or clearing everything up before he realised that perhaps he ought to start taking his share of the housework. Then it would just lead to an argument, rather than the life lesson she was aiming for.

It was just … when she started leaving everyone in charge of their own mess, she hadn’t realised it would take more than a week for them to get the message. What would it take, she wondered? Being buried alive under crockery? Some sort of cockroach infestation? Stray dogs wandering around and shitting on the floor?

‘Anyway, I mean, I’m stoked about the job, but some of the lads, you know, Tim and Derek, they’ve been laughing at me a bit, you know, on Facebook,’ he said, moving the topic back to himself.

‘Laughing?’

‘Yeah, about Woman’s World. Like, it’s no job for a man, or whatever.’

‘Oh, don’t worry about it.’

‘Is it a bit weird though,’ he said, looking at her. ‘Being a man in a woman’s world?