“Robert sent me,” she told him.

“Time is it?” Martin asked.

“Four-ish,” said Julia. “Can I do anything? Tea?”

“Yes, please,” said Martin. Julia had brought the bag of frozen peas. Martin gratefully held it against his face. She got up and began to make tea.

Julia said, “Robert’s here.” Martin sat up and ran his hands over his hair so that it stood straight up and made him look surprised.

“Martin,” Robert said, “I’ve brought Sebastian.”

Robert’s friend Sebastian Morrow, the funeral director, stood in the kitchen doorway. Martin had always found Sebastian to be rather aloof; now he looked uncertain and reluctant, though resplendent in a beautiful deep-blue suit; his shoes gleamed and he held an ominous leather satchel.

“But I need a dentist,” said Martin, “not an undertaker. Yet.”

Robert said, “Before he became an undertaker Sebastian did the undergraduate course in dentistry at Barts.”

Julia rose from her seat and stood near the back door with her arms folded across her chest. Only Robert would bring an undertaker to pull a tooth.

Martin said, “Why didn’t you carry on with dentistry?”

Sebastian said, “Dead people don’t bite.” He lifted the satchel and asked, “May I?”

“Please,” said Martin.

Robert spread a clean towel on the table, and Sebastian laid out his instruments: a syringe for the novocaine, a bottle of alcohol, wads of cotton and gauze. Robert took a cup and a bowl from the cupboard, and Sebastian put on an immaculate white coverall. He washed his hands and pulled on latex gloves.

As long as he’d been waiting for Robert to come, Martin had devoutly wished for an end to his agony. But now, watching Sebastian prepare, Martin began to feel unendurably anxious. “Wait!” he said, grasping Sebastian’s wrist. “I have to-do something first.”

“Martin,” said Robert, “we can’t wait hours for you to-”

“Here, Martin,” said Julia, suddenly at his side, “I’ll do it for you, okay? You stay here and just tell me what to do, yeah?” She leaned over and put her ear next to Martin’s mouth, expectantly.

Martin hesitated. Is it all right if she does it instead of me? He tried to consult the inner feeling that arbitrated these things. It was mute. At last he whispered to Julia, and she nodded. “Out loud?” Julia asked.

“No, but stand where I can see you.”

Sebastian said, “Let’s try to make you comfortable.” He and Robert rearranged Martin so he was leaning back in his chair with his head supported by telephone directories and towels on the table. Julia stood over him with a torch, shining it down at his face. She began to count, moving her lips silently. Martin fixed his eyes on Julia’s lips and prayed.

“Open, please,” said Sebastian. “Oh dear.”

Martin held Julia’s hand tightly while he waited for the novocaine to work; her other hand shook and the torchlight wavered across his face. Martin had a blessed sensation of pain being lifted away from him. “Steady, please,” Sebastian said. “I’ve almost got it.” The next few minutes were rather bloody. Martin closed his eyes. There was a dull crack, and then some probing. “That’s it, then,” Sebastian said, sounding surprised. Martin smelled clove oil and alcohol. Sebastian packed cotton into the empty gum space. “Bite down, please, gently.” Martin opened his eyes.

“All done,” said Sebastian, beaming. Martin sat up. The tooth lay in the bowl, brownish-grey and bloody-rooted and very much smaller than he’d imagined it. Julia was still counting and Martin put up his hand to tell her she could stop. “Eight hundred and twenty-two,” she said.

“Is that all?” Martin tried to ask her, but his face was numb and she didn’t understand him. The pain was gone, leaving a vacancy where there would be different pain when the anaesthetic wore off. “You’re a genius,” he mumbled to Sebastian.

“Not at all,” Sebastian said, but he looked relieved. “Anyone can extract a tooth. I’m glad it came out in one piece though, it looks awfully fragile.”

“If we’d had proper facilities, could it have been saved?” Robert asked.

“No…but we would have known that before taking it out, instead of afterwards.” Sebastian began to wash up. Julia helped him. He packed his satchel and shook hands with Martin, who tried to pay him for his services. “Certainly not, glad to help. You mustn’t smoke for a couple of days, and keep ice on it, please. I have to run now-I was in the middle of something when Robert rang me.”

Robert saw Sebastian out. When he returned Martin said, “What was he doing when you called him?” Martin imagined Sebastian leaning over an inert form on a steel table, wielding those shiny instruments…

“He was having tea at the Wolseley with a very lovely woman. She’s been waiting in my flat while Sebastian worked on your tooth. That’s one of the reasons it took me so long to bring him. That, and we had a hard time acquiring the novocaine. Which reminds me, we need to somehow get you antibiotics.”

Martin put his fingers to his cheek. “Thank you. Thank you, both. All three of you.” He looked up at Robert. “Must send him a bottle of Scotch. And one for you too.” Martin smiled lopsidedly at Julia. “You too?”

She smiled back. “No, thanks. It tastes like medicine.”

Martin said, “That reminds me, Nurse; I should take my vitamins.”

Julia looked embarrassed. “It’s not time yet.”

“I know, but I’m tired and I’m going to bed early. So be a darling…”

“Okay,” Julia said. She went off to get the pills.

Robert said, “What was that about?”

“Oh,” said Martin, “she’s been feeding me Anafranil. She’s pretending it’s vitamins, and I’m pretending I believe her.”

Robert laughed. “In my next life I’m coming back as a pretty girl. That’s so typical-you wouldn’t do it for Marijke, you wouldn’t even listen to me banging on about it, but for Julia you’re a model patient.” Robert filled the electric kettle and flicked the switch. “Can you eat something?”

“I suppose I ought to.” Martin watched Robert setting out the tea things. “Really, though, I am taking it for Marijke.”

“Are you? Have you told her?”

“Not yet. I thought I might surprise her one of these days.” Martin touched his cheek again; he could feel it swelling. He stood up slowly and retrieved the bag of peas from the freezer. Robert took the bag from him and wrapped it in a tea towel. Martin held it against his cheek, thinking of Marijke. He wanted to call her and tell her everything was all right, but he didn’t want Robert listening. Martin frowned and said, “Did Sebastian say I’m not to smoke?”

Julia came into the kitchen and looked at Robert. Are you still here? Robert said, “You can’t smoke or use a drinking straw because the extraction has to scab over and sucking might dislodge the scab.”

Martin said, “Oh,” so dismally that Robert and Julia both laughed. Robert said, “What’s Valentina up to?” and Julia mimed a hand writing on invisible paper. “Really?” said Robert. “Do you think she’d mind if I popped in?”

“I don’t know,” said Julia. “I don’t think she wanted me around. But go ahead. I’ll make the tea.”

Robert said to Martin, “Just call if you need anything.”

Martin said, “I’m fine now. Thank you again; that was…miraculous.”

“It was, wasn’t it?” Robert said, and went off feeling pleased with himself.

Julia made tea and then poked around in the cabinets and refrigerator for possible dinner ingredients. She held up a tin of chicken noodle soup, and Martin said, “Yes, please.” His stomach growled. He said, “Your sister likes to write?”

Julia hesitated. Elspeth had told them not to tell anyone, and they hadn’t. She had been tempted to tell Martin, but something always held her back; she was afraid he would think her a liar. “Yeah,” she replied. “Just, you know, email, not real writing.” She gave Martin a mug of tea and opened the tin of soup. Martin put the frozen peas on the table and wrapped his hands around the mug, waiting for the tea to cool. The novocaine was wearing off. He hated the rubber-lips sensation it gave, but the in-between pain/not pain was worrying too.