Pomme Terre

He smelt like sweat and I was quite sure I smelt like an ashtray. Not that I cared.

"Well, I should go and get money to pay for that shopping bag right now," he spoke with that calm bass voice.

"And I should be leaving too," I replied.

He stood up first.

"Cliff, by the way." He held out his hand, flashing his natural smile.

"Faye." I extended mine, which he took in a firm grip and pulled me up.