“I’ve had the most brilliant idea.”
Hugh sighed. Jen stood in the doorway, her red hair a frizzy halo from the light. “What is it, burd?” he asked, trying to keep his voice even.
“I’ll sell breakfast cereal.”
“You mean…like a Tesco?”
“No, saucer. A restaurant. A cereal restaurant.”
He cleared his throat. “Look, Jen—”
“You think I’m mental.”
“Of course not, love. It’s just that—”
“People are still lining up for my tipples, you know.”
He gritted his teeth. Now was not the time to mention the reason they lined up was because it was a bus stop. If he’d learned nothing from being married for fifteen years, he’d learned to be careful. One wrong word and she’d be opening another women’s-only wine shop.
“Maybe it’s time we sell the property.”
Her eyes stared off. She nodded. “That’s it! We’ll sell property.”
This week I went time-traveling. Not being much of a historical buff, nor am I into nautical tales, I thought I’d tour Portsmouth as tourists do. I was in search of a place to get some fish & chips but instead wound up traveling back in time through Google’s location history feature and noticed this particular piece of property has had an interesting series of shops–from what appeared to be a women’s only wine shop, to the infamous Jen’s Tipples (never open that I can see), to what looked to be a storefront for a real estate website (now no longer in business). What it is now, I’m not sure–I’m waiting for that bus to pull away so I can see what’s on that now-aqua storefront.
PS “Tipples” are alcoholic drinks. At least I think so.