Walking – or rather, waddling through the isles, Isobelreaches the cashier, and pays for her ____with a crumpled ten dollar bill. A dark-skinned man with tiny wire glasses offers her a gap-toothed smile, and she shyly returns the gesture.
“When-uh. When... When- baby?” The man asks, his broken English coated in a thick South Asian accent.
It took Isobel a minute to realise what he was saying, until he gestured to the large bulge sticking out from beneath her pea coat.
She raised a hand to her large tummy, the smile disappearing from her face.
“I’m not pregnant.”