Where we get a flat pack greenhouse for the bedroom

As there weren't any houses to view this weekend, yesterday afternoon The Husband decided that as Spring is round the corner (his words not mine) we would make the annual pilgrimage to the garden centre. He wanted to buy some early flowering plants to fill the tubs on the terrace, as there's no where else to make a flower bed. Our  rented house has only a tiny patch of lawn that takes The Husband 1 minute 45 seconds to mow and that includes strimming around path, raking up grass clippings and putting mower in garage.
While he was getting ready to go out, he was moaning about my shoes and handbags being all over bedroom floor.  The rented house has  no virtually cupboards and the two that are in our bedroom are already filled, mine with three lipsticks, a hairbrush and  a deodorant, The Husband's with four pairs of socks, three batteries, keys to the shed and a Timex didgital watch from 1974.
"You must tidy up," he was saying, " there's stuff lying everywhere, don't be surprised if I break my neck."
"It will save me the bother," I snapped, folding arms, "then I won't have to listen to you nagging."
"Your'e impossible. If you're going to be like that,  I'm going on my own," he said storming off.
It was sunny, so I decided to go for a walk down by the river and feed the ducks who are always pleased to see me. The Husband says more likely that they're pleased to see my bag of bread scraps and would throw me in river to get it.  Saw  a friend I hadn't seen in ages and ended up in cafe for cup of tea.
When I came back, The Husband had potted three tubs( which looked lovely but as I was still in huff, decided not to tell him until later) and was having glass of wine on terrace. I went upstairs to take off coat and came to a full stop in bedroom doorway.

The Husband had purchased a flat pack, portable greenhouse, the type used for planting seedlings.  It has five shelves a pointy roof and a drop-over zippy plastic cover.  Inside all my handbags were arranged  in neat rows. Thye looked like specimens in some strange horticultural experiment where you could grow a new Mulberry handbag hybrid from a cutting of the red and the blue one.
"Well, that'll do the job for very nicely, for now." he said in smug voice, appearing behind me at the doorway,  "If you want a job doing properly, do it yourself."
"Which reminds me," I said, handing him his brown cord jacket, the one that needs the sleeves shortened and a button sewing on, "you're absolutely right, as usual."