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A NIGHT ON THE TOWN

steak, I watched him closely. This time, when thoughts of escaping came to me again, I didn't stop them.

It certainly wouldn't be hard to trick him. He was already drunk. Another half a bottle of wine and he wouldn't know what was happening. But where would I go? I had no passport and knew no one in the city, apart from the prisoners in San Pedro. True, the money I had in my wallet would last several days, if not weeks, in such a cheap country. I could hide in a shabby hotel somewhere and they would never find me. However, if I wanted to move anywhere, I would run into trouble. My photo would be in the paper the next day, so I would never get very far travelling by public transport. It would also be dangerous in a private car, because there are military and police checkpoints on every road and I had no ID to show. I knew people who sold fake Bolivian IDs, but that would take time. And even if I could find a way to travel around safely, which country would I go to and how would I survive there? How could I get back to England without a proper passport? Even if I did get back, who was to say that England wouldn't send me straight back to Bolivia? It probably had an extradition treaty or something similar.

I couldn't do it, decided. If I was going to make a break, it would have to be planned and timed perfectly, because if the police captured me, they would probably beat me to death. And if the guards didn't kill me, the inmates certainly would, because if anyone escaped while on prison leave, the privilege would be taken away forever. So, it was a stupid idea. I only had to hold out a few more weeks. I took another big sip of wine and tried not to think about the fact that I was still a prisoner. I should just try to enjoy myself.

For dessert I ordered tiramisu and when we had finished that, there was still half a bottle of wine left. Jaime shook his head when I offered him more. Although I was a bit drunk myself, I wasn't going to waste expensive imported wine. Besides, there was plenty of time and I was in no hurry to leave. I carefully filled my glass to two-thirds and took my time enjoying each sip. Then I began to look around the restaurant again, taking in even the smallest details, as I did in airports. I had decided not to escape, but I still wanted to remember the look and location of every single object. There was a chance that it might be some time before I got the opportunity to be in a place like this again, but the memories would last me ages, if I created them properly.