"I've got to go," she smiled.
As our kisses were getting more and more passionate, our time together was getting shorter and shorter.
She put her hand on my face and smiled deep into my eyes. Then she straightened her skirt, tied her hair into a pony tail, turned and clip clopped across the cobbles back to the main road. A ship’s horn blasted and rain rattled up the alley. The Chanel had gone, all I was left with was rotten fish.