Peggy & Tina, Hats
(Takes place in the forties, maybe late forties? Idk. After TFA and well after fbawtft) suspend belief and timelines. ;)
Tina glanced over at the woman on the bus. The hat had been what caught her eye. Bold, red, wide brimmed. She envied the type of person who could wear such a thing. She would if it didn’t call so much attention. Red was such a nice color.
She adjusted her own hat, a black skimmer that she’d seen in a shop window.
“I do adore that hat,” the woman in the red hat said, her eyes still on the newspaper. British. As most people in London tended to be.
“Thank you,” Tina said with a small smile.
“Oh? You’re American,” the woman exclaimed, reaching her hand out across the aisle. “What brings you to jolly old London?”
“I actually…moved here years ago. My husband—“
“Ah. I see. Say no more. I’m actually a bit of a transplant myself…I live over in the states,” she laughed. “I’m Peg, by the way.”
No last name. “Tina,” she said, figuring there couldn’t be any harm in exchanging first names with a woman on the bus. “I’m Tina.”