Caroline was the English teacher who had replaced Sally. My friends were friendly and welcoming and early on we invited her to come out with us for the evening. I remember Mercedes took us to a bar on a steep hill and squeezed her car into a tight spot by the simple expediant of bumping the cars in front and behind until we fit in. It was only when we got out that we noticed a man sitting nervously in the car in front. So Mercedes was laughing and justifying herself as we rushed into the dark, low, wooden bar. The speciality of this bar was mejillones - mussles on their shells with chopped peppers and vinaigrette - and although I didn't like them by the bowlful, one or two with our tintos were more than delicious.

As we sat there, a group passed us on their way out. Caroline waved to a good-looking man who I recognised from her class. Then she got flushed, told us she felt ill and was going home, and all in a moment, left. We all did that slow head swivel - watching someone behaving strangely but making no comment. Then, as was out custom, we decided to leave for another bar. When we walked in, the first thing we saw was Caroline there with the young man and his friends, Oh, she said, she'd felt better when she got into the fresh air, and Juan was out there and she'd decided to go for a drink with him. And we looked neutral but were disgusted. As my friends said, if she wanted to go have a drink with him she could have said so - wasn't as if we were dying for her company.

In short, we considered Caroline a liar and her story of the horsemen of the apocalypse was probably some weird sort of cover for why she and her boyfriend had left their friends for so long - to have sex or whatever - but only she would even feel the need for a cover.

Other memories jogged by this photo. Further memories. Even more memories. This Photo. All the Photos

On Being a Foreigner

Photos in Chronological Order

Trails

Map/Diagram of Story Elements