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

automatic top fold back into a neat slot in front of the boot, she’d been seduced.

Sure, she’d gone in with a budget of six thousand pounds, but with nought per cent finance over ten years, she’d barely notice the monthly payment. At least, that’s what she’d told herself.

‘It’s a limited edition,’ the garage owner had told her proudly. ‘Safety features, and even a built-in on-board virtual assistant, we call Claudia.’

‘Wow.’

‘Quite.’

She’d driven it around the block and been told how the assistant could dial numbers for her, would remind her to fasten her seat belt and even warn her if she was going too fast.

‘A bit like a nagging wife!’ he quipped, completely misjudging his audience.

When she’d roared into the driveway last night, almost totalling two of their solar garden lights, Toby had told her it was lovely, although the expression that briefly flickered across his face was more one of panic.

Today, looking at her new purchase, she saw it for what it probably was. A classic ‘look at me’ midlife crisis car.

No. She refused to believe it.

Perhaps she was overthinking? Why shouldn’t she have a glamorous car? And why was she suddenly feeling self-conscious in any case? She’d agreed to perform as a rap artist – if she could do that, she could do anything. Perhaps she should have gone for tinted windows and a bangin’ sound system as well as the latest in AI technology.

She felt better, too, when a little later Katie asked her to take her to her gymnastics lesson in the new wheels and actually let Clare drop her off at the gate rather than around the corner as usual. ‘Bye, Mum!’ her suddenly communicative daughter said loudly, making sure as many people saw her as possible.

On the way home, Clare’s mobile began to ring. She answered hands-free on the dashboard.

‘Hi, Clare.’

‘Hi, Dan.’

‘Look, we need to start rehearsing obviously and I thought maybe later …’ Clare felt a prickle of panic. She’d forgotten somehow that they’d need to rehearse.

‘I can’t later, sorry. Busy weekend!’ she said.

‘Oh. Maybe tomorrow?’

‘I just can’t, Dan. Monday maybe?’

‘But we really need you. This sort of thing, we can’t just put it together overnight.’

‘I know, but I’m busy. I have a job, a family – weekends are busy. I want to help, but …’

Dan was silent.

‘Are you still there?’

‘Yeah, I just … Clare you seem like a great person – you want to support the boys I can see that. But if we’re going to do anything worthwhile, we’re going to have to start rehearsin’ as soon as we can.’

‘Of course. It’s just …’

There was a silence. ‘Look, Clare, I don’t know what your life is like. Probably pretty good if you’re a lawyer, right?’

‘I wouldn’t say …’

‘What I mean is – you’ve got enough money, security, right?’

‘Well, yes.’

‘Qualifications, right?’

‘Well, I worked pretty hard for those.’

‘I know, I’m not saying … Look, Clare. These boys, they’re not like you. This is their thing. Their chance.’

‘But …’ She could feel herself wavering.

‘And if we’re gonna do it. We need to do it. I don’t want to blow it, you know?’

‘Look,’ she said, feeling a little cross. ‘I’m not really sure why I said yes, Dan. I mean, I’m no rapper. And I’ve got a reputation – a serious job.’

‘Look,’ he said, gently. ‘If that’s what you’re worried about, don’t. You don’t have to be Clare on stage, you can have a persona.’

‘What, like Beyoncé?’

‘A bit more like Ali G!’

‘Thanks a lot!’

‘No, I mean, unrecognisable from your normal self. You’ve already got a fake name. We can make you look like a different person.’

‘Well, maybe, but …’

‘My sister, Nadia; she does make-up and that. She could make you up so you look like a totally different person.’

‘I suppose I could.’

‘Then what would it matter? It’s just a couple of rehearsals. And a night out at the theatre. Nobody’s gonna see you. Unless we win … but you know …’

He was right; that possibility was a long way down the road.

‘OK,’ she said with a sigh, her guilt getting the better of her as usual. ‘I can’t do tonight – I really can’t. But I’ll try to meet you tomorrow after lunch if you’re free?’

‘Thank you,’ his voice was pityingly grateful. ‘Seriously, thanks Clare.’

She pulled up in front of her house and looked at it for a moment. Was she privileged? Their home wasn’t impressive, particularly. But their 1930s semi, with its big bay windows, was roomy and had cost a fortune.

‘Toby,’ she said later, trying to decide which pair of earrings to wear for their evening with Hatty and Bill. ‘Do you think we’re privileged?’

‘Where has that come from?’ he asked, his eyes widening. ‘Has someone written something about me? Not that bitch from the Daily Mole?’

‘No … No, I’m just thinking, you know. We’re pretty lucky, right?’

‘Well, yes.’

‘And OK we didn’t come from wealthy backgrounds, but our families were OK. And we got chances – the chance to work hard.’

‘Sure …’ he said, peering closely at himself in the mirror and smoothing down his eyebrows with his index finger.

‘And now, tonight, we’re going around to a TV star’s house for dinner.’

‘True.’

Their eyes met silently. It sounded pretty privileged when you put it like that.

Before she could think any further, she brought up Dan’s number on her phone. Wondering what she was getting herself into, she typed ‘Sorry for the wobble. Will definitely see you tomorrow.’

When she looked up again her eyes locked with Toby’s in the mirror. ‘Who’s that?’ he asked.

‘Oh, no one.’

‘But Mum! Why do I need a babysitter? Alfie’ll be here!’ Katie whined when Clare told her that Angela from two doors down was going to pop round while they were out.

‘Because you’re only twelve. And because not only is Alfie only fourteen, he’s … well, he’s Alfie,’ Clare said, nodding at her son who was sitting slumped on the sofa, headphones on, laughing at something on his phone. ‘He wouldn’t notice if the house burned down.’

‘But I would! I’d notice!’

It