A grieving wife has come to terms with an unsavoury truth: her husband is having an affair. However, in BA Paris’s short story, dutiful and thoughtful Juliet is making sure to pack some tasty treats for Harry as he heads off on his illicit weekend…

Juliet spoons the white, glossy meringue onto the base she made earlier and pops it in the oven Lemon meringue pie, Harry’s favourite. She stays in front of the oven, watching through the glass door. It won’t take long for the meringue to brown and she needs it to be perfect.

Eight minutes later, she removes it from the oven. It smells heavenly and she wishes she could eat a slice. But it’s for Harry, and Harry only. Putting the pie down on the worktop, she goes upstairs to Harry’s study, where there’s a sofa bed, with space underneath for storage. Lifting the seat, she reaches in and from under the blankets pulls out a small black suitcase.

She carries it down to the kitchen and lifts it onto the worktop, then rolls the combination locks until they read 741. The click as they shoot open is satisfying. Harry is nothing if not a creature of habit.

She lifts the lid and pauses a moment, surveying the contents. Two cashmere jumpers lie side by side, one navy, one beige. Juliet already knows that under the navy cashmere jumper are two long-sleeved shirts and that under the beige cashmere jumper are two polo shirts. Underneath, at the very bottom of the case, are two pairs of neatly folded trousers and, tucked around the edges, four pairs of boxer shorts and four pairs of socks. Everything is brand new, even the underwear. Harry has also slipped in a pair of casual shoes, and a new washbag, complete with travel-size toiletries. He is all set, ready to go off for his three days in Venice with Sara.