'Waiting for a Good Fit' by Lindsay Bamfield

New shoes hurt her feet so she wears her old ones. Comfortable reliable shoes, unlike those she’s bought in recent years.

When she purchases a new pair, she writes a description next to a name.

Beneath ‘18) Flat, royal blue suede pumps. Therese,’ she adds ‘19) Strappy yellow sandals. Heels 10cms. Serena.’

Some pairs are beautiful and silly, some plain, others beautiful but practical. These are the best but still not perfect. One or two are, she thinks, ugly. All are expensive.

What will the next pair be? She doesn’t know because she doesn’t know what sort of woman her husband will pick next. She doubts she’ll need to wait long. She’ll find the photo of his latest paramour on his phone and select shoes to suit. He never complains about the cost on his credit card, although the price of some is ridiculous. He never asks to see the shoes or why she doesn’t wear them. Does he even notice the purchases on his monthly statements among the restaurant and hotel bills?

She wants to stop buying shoes. She hates buying shoes.

She dispatches the strappy sandals in a smart silver box, tied with white ribbon, to their new owner. An envelope contains a receipt for exchange (she never knows the correct size so chooses a size smaller than her own) and the note.

She is confident that once the woman reads the letter, she won’t be any more trouble. It’s worked eighteen times before.

When he finds the right woman, she’ll buy one more pair of shoes. For herself. Comfortable, stylish and excellent quality, shoes she’ll be proud to wear that fit perfectly. She will then empty their joint account and desert him without a blemish on her conscience. Just so long as they are a good fit.