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

he said. ‘You know, the mood – lots of women, they feel like you do. I think it’s more important than you realise.’

‘I know, but …’

‘And isn’t your whole rap – poem – about wanting people to see that women like you are worth noticing and shouldn’t be ignored? This is kind of what you wanted,’ he said. ‘And maybe it’s what other women, you know, the ones you’re speaking to, maybe they need this too?’

He was right, she realised. She had wanted to be noticed, appreciated. She hadn’t really thought that anyone else, any other women, might feel exactly the same. Perhaps she didn’t see them either.

‘I mean, I know you didn’t want to rap,’ he added, ‘but the poem thing, that was you, wasn’t it? That was how you feel? What you wanted to say?’

‘Yeah, I suppose.’

He stepped back, hand still on her shoulder and focused his dark brown eyes on her face. ‘It didn’t come from nowhere, Clare,’ he said, more gently. ‘It was … I mean, like a cry for help, or whatever. Like you needed someone to hear you.’

Had it been? ‘Maybe, I mean, I was just really fed up that day so …’

‘Yeah, and it was great. I know you don’t think so, but your poem spoke to people. That’s why all those women like you. You’ve kind of told the world what they want to say. That they feel invisible, that no one really sees them for who they are.’

‘Is that … did you …?’ She was lost for words. How was it that Dan seemed to really see her when her own husband didn’t seem to have a clue about how she was feeling? Could he read between the lines of her rushed, half-written poem and understand how she felt?

‘So, it’d be nice, wouldn’t it, if something you did helped people to understand a bit more what it’s like?’

‘What it’s like?’

‘You know, to be a bit older. A bit more boring. To be in a boring job, with a boring life. Just a normal, boring, middle-aged woman. How you want to break free, that kind of thing.’

‘Lot of borings there, Dan.’

‘I don’t have the words, you’re the one with the words,’ he grinned. ‘That’s why we need you. Come on, Clare – if you’re in this, you’ve got to be really in it.’

He was right. This wasn’t some little audition in a backroom in Hatfield. Eezee Troupe had the chance to be on national TV. And she ought to put everything she had into making it work. For them, and for herself too. And seemingly – and she gulped at the idea – for her fans.

Moments later, the door opened again and a small woman with skinny jeans and a checked shirt walked in. Everyone seemed to know her – the boys bounced up to her like excited puppies.

‘Hey, guys!’ she said. ‘Hey, Dan, Clare.’

‘Hey?’ Clare said, uncertainly. ‘Nadia?’

‘That’s right,’ the woman said, with a grin.

‘Oh, thank god,’ Clare replied, dramatically wiping her forehead with the back of her hand. ‘Dan wasn’t sure if you’d make it tonight.’

‘Bit last minute,’ Nadia nodded. ‘But can’t have you going on The One Show without a bit of bling.’

‘And a disguise?’

Nadia glanced at Dan briefly and a look passed between them. ‘Sure,’ she said. ‘I’ve got some pretty good ideas about wigs and make-up and that.’

‘Thank you.’

Clare could feel Dan’s eyes on her as she disappeared into the women’s loos with Nadia for a try-on.

‘You know, you’re doing a good thing,’ Nadia said to her softly as Clare tried on a pair of shiny black trousers and grimaced at the result in the mirror. ‘Those boys, they really need this.’

‘I know,’ Clare said. ‘I suppose … that’s why I’m doing it.’

‘That can’t be the only reason though,’ Nadia said, holding out a blonde wig for her to try. ‘I mean, you’re pretty good you know?’

‘You think?’

‘I’d buy your track, and I don’t even like rap normally.’

‘Thank you.’ Clare felt her cheeks go red at the unexpected praise.

‘And you know, your dancing’s not so bad, whatever Dan says.’

‘Oh, I don’t know about that!’

Nadia looked her up and down and nodded. ‘That looks cool,’ she said.

Clare turned and looked in the small mirror – she could just about see the top of the trousers. The silver top she’d put on was brighter than she’d usually choose – but the colour suited her. ‘Thanks,’ she said. ‘And the hair?’

‘Well, that wig looks OK. I’ve got other ones though. And colour spray … But maybe we should wait till the day itself before experimenting? The stuff doesn’t wear off quickly!’ Nadia said. ‘But don’t worry. No one will know it’s you, once I’ve finished.’

‘Thank you.’

‘No problem, Martha B.!’

Clare changed back into her office clothes before exiting the bathroom to find Dan standing outside expectantly. ‘Oh,’ he said. ‘I was hoping to see …’

‘Oh, sorry,’ she said.

‘Don’t worry,’ Nadia told him. ‘You’ll love it.’

Clare felt herself blush.

Twenty minutes later, after one more run through, Clare left the hall, clutching a bundle of clothes and with a promise to fine-tune her new lyrics. She dumped everything on the passenger seat, before climbing into her car and putting on her seat belt.

Before she could turn the key, Dan appeared, jogging effortlessly towards the car.

‘Everything OK?’ she said, winding down the window.

‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘I just …’

‘Yes?’

‘I just thought you should know, I think you should ditch the disguise.’

‘Oh, but I can’t.’

‘Look, I get it. But think about it. It’s not for the boys. I guess it makes no real difference to them. I’m just a bit gutted that you seem to think being who you are is going to stop people liking you, or wanting to work with you.’

‘Oh.’

‘Gutted for you, I mean. That you feel that way about yourself. I reckon it’ll just make people realise that you’re brilliant in a whole other way.’

‘Thanks.’

‘I just wish,’ he said, his face close to hers. ‘I just wish you could see yourself through