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YASHEEDA

and some innate sense; the knowledge that every move is critical but not wanting to think about it too much – in case you got it wrong; the sense that there was nothing more important in the world than this moment and being able to touch this other person. This girl who was striding in front of me to the bathroom like a proud and playful kitten.

We both went into the men’s toilets and quickly shut the cubicle door. There were four guys in the bathroom, but they didn’t say anything. They hardly even looked up – this sort of thing was normal in South American nightclubs. Occasionally, the police did raids on places, but usually there was a tip-off beforehand so that the management could clear the bathrooms. I made two lines of unequal size and quickly sniffed the smaller one. I handed Yasheeda the rolled-up note, hoping she hadn’t seen what I had done. There was hardly enough space for two people standing in the cubicle and it was almost impossible for our bodies not to be touching. As she leaned forward to take her line, I rested my hand on the exposed part of her back and shoulders and stroked her skin gently. When she stood back up, with the note still in hand, her face had changed.

Something about the excitement of the confined space, the danger of the situation and maybe the drug had transformed her expression so that I couldn’t tell what she was thinking. I never expected that she would, at that moment, come for me, pressing herself against me and seeking out my mouth with hers. I leaned back against the cubicle wall as the cocaine rush shot through the floating drunkenness and I felt like I was somewhere out of my body watching the whole situation as she kissed me. Then someone banged on the door, telling us to hurry up.

We returned to the bar and Yasheeda went straight over to her friend, who had stopped dancing and was now sitting at a table on her own, looking extremely bored.

'This is Sharon.' Yasheeda introduced us and we shook hands, but it seemed the friend was angry and wanted to leave. It was already past three o’clock, so Jaime and I should have been leaving too, but I didn’t care. I would deal with the major later. I felt really close to Yasheeda and wanted to be with her, but the night looked like it would come to a sudden end unless I could entertain her friend somehow.

I went to the bar where Jaime was slumped over on a stool and bought Sharon a cocktail. I was down to my last bolivianos, but