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11
JACK

The first night I tried coke was also the first night I met Jack the Mexican. This, I later discovered, was no coincidence. Jack had a nose custom-built for cocaine: for sniffing it out, then sniffing it up. As soon as anyone opened a bag of it in the prison, he would magically appear.

On this occasion, he had actually been invited, although he turned up late. The celebrations were already well under way when he sat down beside me. At first, I was a little afraid of him; although he was skinny, he was also very tall – about six foot three – and even sitting down at the table, he towered over me. It was night time, but he was wearing a huge pair of sunglasses so that you couldn't see his eyes and he was talking at me in Spanish at a hundred miles an hour. He kept leaning towards me so suddenly that several times I thought he was going to hit me.

'¿Habla inglés?' I asked very cautiously, when he finally paused for breath.

'Of course. Why didn't you say before?'

But even when he switched to speaking English, I couldn't understand much because his massive nose was blocked and the way he spoke sounded like a trumpet. I still thought he was going to hit me.

Nothing could have been further from the truth. Although Jack looked dangerous when you first met him, he was as soft as they come. People assumed that he was tough because of his height, but deep down, he was extremely shy and anyone could push him around, even tiny guys, and he never fought back. In fact, he was embarrassed about being so tall because it made him stand out and, he thought, made him easier to pick on. Once, when he got sent to the punishment