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

Ann nodded, her face full of sympathy and concern.

‘Auditioning for You’ve Got Talent – the local round.’

‘What?’ Ann looked as if she thought she’d possibly misheard. ‘An audition?’

‘Well, yeah …’

‘What … why … Why didn’t you say anything?’

‘Oh, I hadn’t realised I was going to do it until I sort of found myself doing it …’

‘How does that even happen?’

Clare explained about the bus. About getting on it almost on a whim.

‘But … no offence, but what talent?’ Ann said, her brow still furrowed. ‘You don’t play an instrument do you, or dance, I don’t think?’

‘You know my poems?’

‘Well, sort of. You never let me read them, remember?’

‘Yeah, well, I find it … it’s just embarrassing, isn’t it? The window into my soul and all that.’

‘OK?’ Ann was looking at her with a different kind of concern.

‘It was … I mean, it wasn’t planned. I just – the bus turned up at my usual stop, taking people to the auditions and I got on. I had my notebook and I thought, what the hell!’

‘Good for you!’ Ann said, her face splitting in an unexpected smile.

‘Really?’

‘Yeah. I mean, it’s private isn’t it – like asking to read someone’s diary? But I always felt curious about your writing, like it was a piece of you that you were ashamed of or something … so yeah. Good for you!’

‘It didn’t go as planned!’

It was a good thing, Clare thought later, that Ann had known her for a long time. Because coming out as an undercover internet rap sensation was not for the faint-hearted. When she’d brought up the YouTube footage on her phone to show Ann, her friend had been amazed.

‘I saw that and thought how great it was,’ she said. ‘But I didn’t recognise you at all! But it’s obviously you – I can see it now!’

‘Don’t worry, nobody else has made the connection, thank goodness,’ Clare said. ‘You don’t expect it do you?’

‘You can say that again. I’ve always thought you were quite … well, shy really?’

‘Shy?’

‘Well, you know. You’re great at your job, and confident – although maybe not corporately sexy,’ quipped Ann, ‘but when you’ve been to the quiz, or we’ve been out, you’re always quite reserved, aren’t you?’

Clare had always felt a little awkward – a remnant from her chronically shy schooldays. But she hadn’t realised it was noticeable to anyone else.

‘Oh,’ she said. ‘Really?’

‘Yeah, don’t get me wrong, it’s not a bad thing,’ Ann said. ‘Better than being like Will and letting it all hang out.’

‘Well, there is that. No Lycra unitards here!’

The pair of them grinned.

‘I honestly didn’t think you had it in you,’ Ann said. ‘Wow.’

‘I don’t think I do have it in me really. I’m sort of forcing myself to do it. You know, giving the boys their chance. It’s nice – it’s nice being up there when you’re in the moment. And it’s thrilling getting my words out there, I suppose. But it’s not something I’m going to go forwards with afterwards.’

‘Why not?’

‘Well, who’d give up living this dream?’ Clare said, brandishing her cheese and pickle sandwich. ‘Corner office, great career, cheese-and-pickle for lunch.’

‘You’ve got a point,’ Ann smiled.

‘And you don’t think I’m weird?’

‘I think,’ her friend said, ‘you are absolutely brilliant.’

Chapter Thirty-Three

Clare had driven to the theatre straight after work to meet up with Dan, get changed, and have a quick run through before they took part in the televised auditions. To the public it would be round one, but in reality they’d already been through two auditions to get this far. She’d never look at reality shows in the same way.

As she put the final touches to her stage make-up – ensuring she really looked nothing like Martha B.’s shy alter ego Clare, she noticed she’d had two missed calls from Toby. Poor Toby. She’d told him she had to go to some sort of lecture this evening but he hadn’t looked too convinced.

She couldn’t ring him back now – they were due to go on in ten minutes and everyone seemed to be almost rigid with stress about timings. A man with a clipboard called out the time every thirty seconds or so, and each time he did, different people went scurrying here and there in order to fulfil their various roles.

‘I’m not feeling too confident,’ she whispered to Dan.

‘Don’t be ridiculous. You can’t back out now.’

‘Want a bet?’

But he was right. Adrenaline pumped through her veins and she’d give almost anything to rush out into the street and get home in double-quick time. But she’d never forgive herself if she did.

Eezee Troupe were dressed in black trousers and white T-shirts with an ‘E’ emblazoned on them in a bright yellow. Nadia had spent the last week printing out and ironing on special labels for the occasion.

The outfit she’d finally settled on for Clare – who, it seemed, didn’t get a lot of say in it any more – was a pair of bright yellow jeans with a matching T-shirt. She’d stand out on the stage like a beacon. ‘But no one will know it’s you,’ Nadia had reassured her, expertly applying make-up and helping her to fit her new blonde wig. ‘So it doesn’t matter, right?’

‘Right,’ she’d said, doubtfully.

They’d run through their routine a few times, and Clare was fairly confident she could get through the three-minute slot unscathed.

She looked over the piece of paper in her hand for the last time. She’d been reading it constantly ever since she finally managed to pen something in her lunch hour a couple of days beforehand. Dan had read it through and nodded. And the rest of the troupe had clapped when she’d rapped it out for the first time. She’d felt like a bit of an idiot, but at the same time, the applause had been quite gratifying.

‘Five minutes,’ said the man with the clipboard.

A young girl flashed past her, blue hair tucked under a cap, face fixed with concentration.

They