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

‘Yes, sorry. I mean, I wasn’t looking at … I was thinking about the company, you know?’ she said, flushing.

‘Sure, I believe you!’ winked Ben, misreading the tone. ‘Now I know why you wanted this office!’

Her look brought him up short. ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘I’ll get the paperwork shall I?’

She only just made it to the office by 3.30 p.m., having stuffed most of the paperwork into her bag and promised to drop it in to Ben on the way home. She hadn’t called ahead, which of course meant that Nigel had decided this was the one day he had wanted to discuss something with her straight after lunch, and had been pacing up and down the corridor waiting for her to arrive.

‘Hello, Nigel,’ she said.

‘Hello,’ he said, looking at her suspiciously. ‘Long lunch?’

‘Lunch meeting overrran.’ She shrugged in a ‘can’t be helped’ kind of way and he visibly relaxed.

‘Oh right,’ he said. ‘Camberwaddle?’

She smiled and avoided the question. Not that it was any business of his, really, where she’d been – she was only an hour late for the start of the afternoon. The number of times she’d worked an hour or two after the office closed, or popped in on a Saturday morning without comment. He probably owed her about a year and a half off in lieu.

‘Anyway, just wanted to say. I’ve read your recent memo and the figures are excellent,’ he said. ‘Keep up the good work!’ He waved a memo, which was actually the one she’d written over a month ago, under her nose for proof. ‘Jolly good show,’ he added, sounding like someone from the twenties.

‘Thanks, sir,’ she said, thinking how typical it was that just as she was smoothing the ground for her great escape Nigel was finally starting to be a reasonable boss.

‘That was a turn up for the books,’ she said to Ann, once Nigel had disappeared into his office.

‘I know,’ she said. ‘He actually made me a coffee this morning! It’s some strategy of Will’s, I think.’

‘A strategy?’

‘Yeah, their response to MehToo.’

‘Oh.’

‘Yes,’ Ann met her eyes. ‘I probably shouldn’t tell you, but when I went in earlier they were having some sort of mind-mapping session. And Will had written “troubleshooting” on his pad.’

‘Troubleshooting?’

‘Yes, as in making sure they covered their backs so we don’t start a riot or something in the office, I think!’

‘Bloody hell.’ Once again, the enlightened duo had completely and utterly missed the point.

‘Exactly.’

‘Look,’ Clare leaned in slightly in case they were overheard. ‘Have you given, you know, my proposal any thought?’

Ann nodded. ‘Yes,’ she said.

‘And.’

‘And, yes!’ Ann said again.

‘Yes, you’ll come?’

‘Seriously,’ Ann said. ‘If you leave me here to watch the whole Nigel and Will show play out I will lose my mind.’

‘Leaving early?’ Nigel quipped as Clare raced past his room two hours later, clutching Alfie’s poor bag, which because she’d overfilled it so frequently was now splitting at the seams.

She ignored him. Troubleshooting my arse! she thought.

For once, she arrived at the church hall early. Letting herself in, she switched on the lights and looked at the little white-washed space that she’d spent so many evenings in recently. Without the boys to fill it, it struck her how small and tatty it seemed.

But she’d miss it all when it ended, she realised. She’d miss rehearsing with Eezee Troupe, admiring their energy and drive – the excitement of it all. Not the nail-biting stress and horror of the upcoming TV finals that kept her awake half the night. Certainly not the strained muscles and sore bottom that she’d had to contend with since they stepped up their rehearsals.

But the comradery. The idea of working towards a shared purpose. And being an important part of a machine, rather than just another cog whirring around unnoticed. Hopefully that was something she could recreate in her new firm, she thought. That feeling of purpose, of moving forward.

She’d also miss writing raps, she realised. Miss actually sharing her thoughts with the world.

A Nissan Micra and a small Citroën pulled into the car park next to the building and she watched out of the window as all thirteen members of Eezee Troupe squeezed their way out of the tiny vehicles. Perhaps they should start performing contortion or magic as a sideline.

Legal? No. Dangerous? Yes. But definitely entertaining.

‘Clare!’ a few of them cried, seeing her standing on her own through the window.

‘Someone’s early!’ Mark said as he pushed open the door.

‘Nice to see you!’

‘Tomorrow’s the big day!’

They bounced past her one by one, grinning, doffing imaginary caps as they did so. ‘Hi, everyone,’ she said, feeling a bit ‘last day of school’ish. Perhaps she should have brought a marker pen to sign everyone’s shirts?

‘Got the new rap?’ Dan asked. He smiled, but she could hear an edge of desperation in his voice. She’d been a bit slow with this one; had wanted to get it just right.

‘Yes!’ she said, enjoying the look of relief that raced across his features. ‘Yes, I have.’

‘Great!’ He swept her up in his arms and spun her around. There was a moment after he’d set her down, when she’d stood slightly dizzy – looking at him as he looked back at her. A moment of tension when she wondered if she ought to give in, lean forward and kiss the one man in her life who seemed to actually see her.

Then she thought of Toby – the stress he’d been under. The man he’d used to be and hopefully would be again.

‘So, let’s hear it!’ Dan said, smiling.

‘Now? Can’t I just perform it when you guys dance?’

‘No, I think we need to hear it,’ Dan reiterated, waving his hand slightly in a way that clearly indicated the rest of them should sit. They did, cutely dropping into assembly-mode and sitting with crossed legs rather than grabbing chairs to perch on.

‘Ok,’ she replied. Because if she couldn’t perform it in front of this funny collection of young men, all of whom were rooting