It was going to fit. She hadn’t starved herself for weeks, or marched round the block every day, not to get into this! She’d seen how Bob looked at that girl on the magazine cover. If that was what Bob wanted, that’s what he’d get. She took a deep breath and tugged hard.
“You alright in there, love?” Sheila could hear the smirk in the shop assistant’s voice. “You want a bigger size?”
“I’m good, thanks.” She wished she hadn’t been panting as she said it. Why leopard print? It made any wearing it look like a cheap bit from Essex. Oh well, if Bob liked it…
She yanked again. The cut-outs in the slinky costume, supposedly revealing sexy glimpses of her should-be-svelte body, were just another place for the fat to flop out. Was she seriously supposed to go out in public in this? “What we do for love!” she muttered.
“Sheila, girl, you seen this one?” Bob’s calloused hand came through the curtain.
“That one?” Was he taking the piss? It was a one-piece, but then so was the leopard print. This one though was dark blue and, instead of cut-outs, it had a pretty little skirt with tiny strawberries dotted all over it. “You really like it?”
“Yes girl, I do. Don’t know what you’re trying on in there, but this one, it’s really lovely. Reminds me of when we first met.”
Well, she couldn’t fault him on that. He’d been the judge who had awarded her strawberry scones first prize at the village fete. Sheila slipped the swimming costume off the hanger and checked the size. It was perfect. After a struggle she had the leopard print off, she’d never wanted it anyway. To know Bob didn’t either, well that just made her day.
WRITER'S WRITE have issued a challenge: 12 Short Stories in 12 Months. Each story must conform to the prompt, word count and deadline given. It began in February 2017. I've accepted the challenge. Originally, once my story had been on the challenge's Facebook page for a day or so, I'd post them here. No though I am putting them into an anthology which I hope to self-publish early in 2019.