We returned to our old dental practice, hoping that they would take us back. The elderly dentist ushered us into his premises through the tatty hall (littered with spent tissues and lumps of chewing gum).
At the waiting room counter, he took down our details. While I was happy to wait until December for my next check-up, TPR insisted on the earliest available appointment.
Meanwhile other patients created a queue behind us. They stood in a mound of dried pulses, reputed to calm the nerves.