The Best Medicine

by Charlotte Fallowfield

  ‘But I’ve used those eyelash curlers for years. Why now?’

  ‘I can’t say, I’m afraid. Sometimes the body views something it’s been exposed to for years as a threat–’ I zoned out as he gave a detailed rundown of antibodies, histamines, and responses. All I could focus on was that it was curable and I could hopefully get out of here without him even realising it was me. ‘You’ll get a letter regarding a referral to the allergy testing clinic soon,’ he continued. ‘I’ll give you a few minutes to get dressed, then come back with your prescription, which you can collect from the dispensary. Just follow the instructions on the packet for now and wash your hands carefully after application.’ He smiled at me and gestured to Nurse Walters to leave the room with him.

  ‘That was the worst five minutes of my entire life,’ I groaned, covering my embarrassed face with my hands.

  ‘Oh, Charlie, of all the luck in the world. But it doesn’t seem like he recognised you, does it?’

  ‘No, and on reflection, that actually makes me happier than I ever imagined it would.’

  ‘He’s hot, not Tyler hot, but then I always preferred me a blond.’

  ‘Tyler is good-looking,’ I agreed, ‘but I prefer my men a little darker. Close your eyes unless you want a flash of trauma central,’ I warned as I sat up and shuffled my knickers back on.

  I stood up and was chatting to Abbie as I pulled up my leggings, having not wanted to risk the pressure of my jeans in such a delicate place when I got dressed earlier today. I’d bent over to do up the laces on my trainers when I heard the door open and close, then a cough.

  ‘I have your written prescription here, Miss Faulkner.’

  ‘Great, thank you,’ I replied as I straightened up and turned to face him.

  ‘Have I met you before?’ he asked, cocking his head as his eyes did a slow scan of my body from head to toe, then back up again, making my mouth go dry. ‘You seem familiar.’

  ‘No, don’t think so.’ I replied, snatching the prescription out of his grasp. ‘Come on, Abbie, time to go.’ I shot out of the door before he had a chance to ask anything else or scan me further while I was in such unflattering clothes. I hurried around the corner and let out a sigh of relief as I leaned back against the wall and covered my face with my hands.

  ‘Good God, and here I was thinking you didn’t know how to run,’ Abbie laughed as she found me.

  ‘Until today I could have set a speed record running towards him. I never imagined I’d want to do it running away.’

  ‘So, what now? Is that it for your aspirations with McFitty? I mean, shouldn’t he at least have bought you dinner before getting in there head first?’ she teased. I linked arms with her as we started to walk towards the exit.

  ‘You know, I thought exactly the same myself,’ I giggled, rolling my eyes, which were thankfully nearly fully open now, though still puffy. ‘Oh, damn it, my–’

  ‘Glasses,’ came his voice from behind me, making me screw up my face in a grimace. ‘You left your glasses, Miss Faulkner, and I thought you looked familiar. A quick scan of your records reveals that I seem to have treated you a few times.’

  ‘Well, saying I’m accident-prone is an understatement, you’ve seen the size of my file.’ I reluctantly released Abbie’s arm and turned to face him.

  ‘I’ve seen bigger.’

  ‘Isn’t that supposed to be my line?’ I cursed myself for never knowing when to rein in my sexual quips, but he surprised me by laughing again as he held out my glasses for me to take.

  ‘Hmmm, I definitely remember you now. What was it, an extreme mental capacity for kink? You’re the author, aren’t you?’

  ‘Yes,’ I said slowly, taking my glasses from him. Our fingers brushed, which sent a shiver down my spine. I wondered why he suddenly remembered me then and he hadn’t before.

  ‘Maybe I’ll see you again in town one night when I’m off duty, you can tell me more about it then.’ He frowned as his pager started beeping. ‘Sorry, got to run. Try and stay out of A&E for at least a few weeks, will you? Your file is going to need its own transport if it gets any bigger.’

  ‘I’ll try, but … hey, it’s me.’

  ‘Quite,’ he nodded, flashing me a smile and nodding to Abbie. He spun on his heels and quickly jogged away, disappearing around the corner as I stood rooted to the spot, slightly stunned.

  ‘Hello, Miss Faulkner, I do believe that the hot doctor is starting to warm up to you.’

  ‘Don’t be silly, he was just being polite,’ I said as I turned around, not wanting to make a big deal out of a few comments.

  ‘There was nothing polite about the way he was checking out your backside when he walked in to find you bending over.’

  ‘He was?’ I asked, as she took my arm again and we started walking.

  ‘Mmmm-hmmm,’ she nodded, grinning at me. ‘And I saw the slow once over, too.’

  ‘Why now? He’s virtually blanked me most of the times I’ve met him.’

  ‘Well, you obviously have one hell of a magical beaver, one look and he’s fallen under its spell. Thank God I stayed up top, or I might be rethinking my plans with Miller.’

  ‘Shut up,’ I laughed, shoulder bumping her. ‘It wasn’t the beaver.’

  ‘With some men, it’s always the beaver,’ she laughed.

  I smiled at her, then frowned. With some men, it was all about that, but I didn’t want a guy who was only interested in sex. I was thirty-one, I was ready to fall in love and think about settling down. It wasn’t all about sex anymore, not that it ever had been for me.

  We left the hospital with me feeling more confused than if McFitty had treated me like he had all the other times.

  ‘Hurrah,’ I cried when I heard the knock on the door, scaring Mrs. Tibbles, who was sleeping on the sofa next to me. I quickly gave her head a ruffle and ran to the front door, grabbing my wallet off the hall console on the way. ‘Is that you, Pizzaman?’ I called.

  ‘It is, but I could say yes now even if it wasn’t, couldn’t I?’

  ‘Yes, maybe, but I know your voice too well, Kitt. Can you close your eyes?’

  ‘Last time I checked, yes,’ he laughed.

  ‘I meant, I want you to close your eyes. And keep them closed, I’m not a pretty sight,’ I warned him, as my hand hovered over the door handle.

  ‘Some girls look even better without makeup.’

  ‘Is this where you say, “sadly you’re not one of them?”’ I laughed.

  ‘No, you’re one of the lucky ones. You always look stunning, even without it. Are you opening the door or what? It’s not like you to wait three seconds to open the door for pizza, let alone three minutes.’

  ‘Don’t say I didn’t warn you,’ I told him, as I checked that Tibbs wasn’t poised to make a bid for freedom. I threw the door open, shot out, and pulled it almost closed behind me, making sure I didn’t lock myself out. ‘Oh my God, that smells so good.’

  ‘It always smells good. Oh no, what happened?’ His hand shot up to sweep my hair away from my eyes. ‘What’s made you cry so much?’

  ‘I could have cried. You won’t believe what happened today.’ I handed him his money, with the usual tip that he’d stopped arguing about around twenty deliveries ago. He shoved it in his pocket as I took the pizza box from him.

  ‘Thanks, Charlie. Don’t tell me you’ve been to A&E again?’ he chuckled as he leaned against the oak beam that held up my thatched canopy over the front door.

  ‘How on earth did you guess?’ I grinned and quickly opened the box and offered him first slice, but he shook his head. ‘Do you have time to hear all about it?’ I mumbled through my first bite, groaning with pleasure. Instead of just Authors Anonymous, they needed a PAAA. Pizza and Authors Anonymous. I’d need daily meetings.

  ‘You know I do, you always make sure you time your call with my clocking-off time.’ His dimpled grin came out as he shook his head.

  ‘I enjoy our chats. Come in if you want,’ I offered as I virtually i
nhaled the rest of the slice, knowing what his response would be.

  ‘It’s not appropriate. You’re the customer and I’m Pizzaman.’

  ‘Kitt.’ I rolled my eyes at him, but flicked my head over to the bench under my kitchen window. The only time it was ever used was when Kitt and I chatted. We sat down and I filled him in on my latest encounter with Dr. Fitton, leaving out some of the more embarrassing finer details. ‘Anyway, Abbie reckons he’s thawing. What do you think?’

  ‘I think he’s an idiot if he hasn’t already thawed.’

  ‘Well, I think after about another five or six medical emergencies, I’ll have completely wooed him.’

  ‘Isn’t it a bit weird for a woman to woo a man? Shouldn’t it be the other way around?’

  ‘You sound just like Daphne,’ I chuckled. ‘Such old-fashioned virtues. Women are allowed to woo nowadays, you know. Some even propose.’

  ‘Well, I guess I can get on board with a woman showing her interest, but not proposing. That I don’t agree with at all. A man should propose, it’s a matter of pride. So, it could get serious with you and the doctor, you think?’

  ‘Steady on,’ I said as I wiped my mouth and shoved the napkin into the empty pizza box. ‘He recognised me, that’s all. That’s hardly serious.’

  ‘He’s seen parts of you naked,’ Kitt reminded me as he suddenly reached out his hand and cupped my face.

  ‘What are you doing?’ I asked, taken aback. He swept his thumb over the corner of my lip.

  ‘Pizza sauce, you missed some,’ he replied. He lifted his thumb to his mouth and sucked off the aromatic mixture. He opened his mouth as if he was going to say something, but shook his head and glanced at his watch instead, then shot to his feet. ‘Damn it, I didn’t realise it was this late. I need to go.’

  ‘How is your mum?’ I asked as I shoved the box onto the bench and stood up too.

  ‘No change,’ he sighed, running a hand over his face.

  ‘I’m sorry to hear that. And I’m sorry if I kept you, you look tired.’

  ‘It’s been a difficult week,’ he shrugged. ‘But never apologise, talking to you isn’t a chore. I look forward to our conversations. I guess I’ll see you soon, Charlie.’

  ‘You know it, take care driving back.’

  He flashed me another smile and headed off up the path, his hands tucked deep in his jeans pockets, his shoulders slumped with the weight of the responsibility he carried on them. I was about to go in when I changed my mind, ran up the path, and hung over the gate.

  ‘Kitt,’ I called, just as he was about to shut the door on his car. He leaned out and looked back at me, his eyebrows raised in question. ‘You’re not just the delivery guy to me. You’re a friend, ok?’

  ‘No more Pizzaman references?’ he asked as his face lit up.

  ‘Don’t be silly,’ I scoffed. ‘You’ll always be Pizzaman to me. See you.’

  ‘See you, Charlie,’ he replied with a smile and a shake of his head.

  I disposed of the evidence of my pizza weakness in the bin around the side of the house, then headed back in and locked up. Mrs. Tibbles quickly took up residence on my lap when I sat down and we enjoyed some rare quality time watching television together. After all of the drama today, I wasn’t in the mood to write. There was always tomorrow.

  Chapter Seven

  Pull The Other One

  One Month Later – A Wednesday in June

  I FLICKED THROUGH SOME magazines in the waiting room, noticing how nervous everyone seemed. I was lucky, I’d never been nervous about coming to the dentist. But then I’d had so much work done, all thanks to overcrowding as a result of my genetics, that visits were old hat to me. After you’d had your gums sliced open to remove four wisdom teeth and four molars in your teens, and your face had ballooned up like a chipmunk carrying his supply of food for hibernation, having a tooth pulled or filled was as easy as melting butter on a hot day.

  ‘Charlie Faulkner for Mr. Wankowksi,’ called the dental assistant. I put the magazine down and followed her through to Mr. Wankowski’s room, tittering to myself. It seemed I was the only person who found his name funny and wondered when I’d be able to hear or say it without laughing.

  ‘Good morning, Charlie,’ he greeted with a smile and a handshake. He was always friendly, but for some reason, I didn’t have as much confidence in him as I had his predecessor. I’d only met Mr. Wankowski twice before, and for something as invasive as potential root canal treatment, I’d have preferred someone whose skills I was more familiar with. However, when it was a choice between being stuck with him or this agonising tooth pain, it was no contest. ‘So, this is an emergency appointment because you have bad tooth pain?’

  ‘Bad is an understatement. Right now, I’d pay you to pull it out,’ I told him as I settled back into his chair and slid on the protective glasses. ‘The pain was so bad last night I was crying, and I even thought about taking a pair of pliers to it.’

  ‘Well, I’ve just studied your X-rays and they show a nerve infection, so I’m not surprised you’re in pain. In about five minutes, it will be a distant memory,’ he told me in a reassuring tone.

  The relief as my face went numb from the injection was almost as good as having a relaxing massage and facial at a spa. Even the noise of the drill whirring away, and the slight smell of burning as it ground the inside of my tooth away, didn’t faze me.

  ‘Wuddy hell,’ I gasped as the hygienist managed to suck the end of my tongue into the saliva extracting machine.

  ‘Oops, sorry,’ she grimaced, quickly turning it off and freeing me as I flashed her a disapproving scowl. How hard was it to angle that damn thing into the corner of my mouth? I’d never had my tongue vacuumed up before. ‘How about you take a rinse?’

  I sat up, then picked up the bright pink water and went to take a sip, but with my lips numb, I missed my mouth and poured most of it all over the waterproof apron I was wearing. Hastily blotting myself dry, I tried again, holding a finger in my lips and using it as a guide for the rinse. This time, I managed to get it in and sloshed it about, but made another mess as I tried to spit into the bowl and instead dribbled it all down my chin. Having a bruised and numb tongue and numb lips didn’t exactly make it easy to empty a mouthful of water into a tiny bowl, and I succeeded in spraying the next mouthful all over the assistant. I mumbled a “Sorry” at her, though inside I was rejoicing. I’d never come out of the dentist with a tongue-related injury, until she’d let loose with that super-sonic vacuum cleaner in my mouth.

  I gave her a “don’t mess up the suction this time” warning look as Mr. Wankowski went back in and she followed. I closed my eyes as he got to work trying to clear out the pulp, muttering that he couldn’t find the third root. How hard could it be? He had X-rays, and it wasn’t like it was a large search area. He was poking and prodding like an archaeologist on a dig, and I howled as he slipped and stabbed his excavation tool into my lip.

  ‘Oh, sorry Charlie. My bad. Have another rinse, will you?’

  My bad? My bad?! Thank God he wasn’t performing an eyelift and had just mistakenly gouged my eye out, followed by a “my bad” comment.

  Half an hour later, I was feeling pretty sorry for myself with my newly split lip and swollen cheek. I also had possible whiplash from his overly enthusiastic jerking of my head as he’d tried to pull off the metal band he’d put around my tooth while he put the temporary filling in, not to mention another incident of the nurse getting my tongue stuck to the suction tube.

  I wasn’t feeling in any fit state to eat, let alone cook, but I was out of fresh chicken for Mrs. Tibbles. If I stood any chance of sleeping off a restless few nights and a sore mouth that was beginning to thaw, Mrs. Tibbles needed chicken. It was like cat heroin to her. After a diced chicken dinner, she was loving and placid. Without it, she was likely to show her indignation by trying to suffocate me as she sat on my head while I tried to sleep in bed, not to mention the face pawing, with her claws out.

&nbs
p; I called in at the shop on my way past.

  ‘Afternoon, Mrs. Vickers,’ I mumbled as I headed inside to see her sitting at the counter reading.

  ‘Hello, lovely day,’ she called.

  ‘It is,’ I agreed. The British weather had started picking up a few weeks before and I’d finally been able to let Tibbs out in the back garden. After a few tentative explorations that lasted less than a minute each and had her flying in with her fur on end at the slightest noise, she’d got brave and was driving me insane, howling all of the time to go out. I was going to have to get Heath over to fit a cat flap for her. ‘Mrs. Vickers, have you sold out of chicken?’ I asked, my voice completely distorted due to my dental-related injuries.

  ‘What’s that you want to thicken?’ she asked, pushing her glasses up her nose.

  ‘Chicken, not thicken.’

  ‘Well, if you really want to thicken something that badly, we have gelatine somewhere by the baking supplies.’

  ‘Chicken,’ I repeated slowly, flapping my arms to try and emphasise the point.

  ‘Oh dear, I think we’re out of stock of deodorant. Reg, Reg,’ she shouted, ‘are we out of deodorant?’

  ‘Yes, love,’ he called back over the noise of the TV in the background.

  ‘I don’t need deodorant. I want chicken,’ I almost shouted, very slowly.

  ‘Well, there’s no good getting cross with me because you have a body odour problem that I can’t fix,’ she scolded. ‘And I already told you we have gelatine if you want to thicken something.’

  ‘Oh my God,’ I groaned. I pulled my phone out of my handbag and keyed in the words “I want chicken,” complete with an appropriate emoji.

  ‘You want chicken? Well, why didn’t you say?’

  ‘I did.’

  ‘No, you said you wanted to thicken something. Well, the chicken should be in the chiller.’

  ‘It’s not,’ I replied, shaking my head.

  ‘You have snot, too? Well, stand back, I don’t want to catch your germs. You’ll find the tissues next to the deodorant.’