Free The Winterlings by Cristina Sánchez-Andrade Page B

Little by little, life had snatched her dreams away from her, and since they had returned from England, she barely enjoyed anything. Her eyes lit up with irony.
    â€˜Get them,’ said Dolores.
    â€˜You really think so?’
    Dolores had always understood that her sister’s dissatisfaction stemmed from this absence, from the shame of having lost her teeth when she was little more than a child.
    â€˜Don’t hold back.’

16
    When Saladina walked into the clinic the next day, she found the dental mechanic with a magnifying glass in his left hand and a file in his right. The task of filing down teeth so that they fit snugly took the concentration and patience of a Benedictine monk, and for this reason he didn’t hear her.
    He didn’t sense her presence either until she touched his arm.
    Tenderlove dropped one of the callipers onto the floor.
    â€˜Winterling!’ he said. ‘I wasn’t expecting you so soon.’
    Saladina stood there mutely.
    â€˜I knew you’d come along in the end, everyone eventually does, but — so soon!’
    She nodded timidly. By the light of day, Tenderlove was much more attractive than when she had seen him at the festival. He wasn’t too tall, he was well turned out, had a tanned complexion, a muscly build, and curly hair. He used brilliantine in his hair and parted it to one side, plastering it to his skull. He smelt faintly of jasmine, or was it roses? His shirt was partly unbuttoned, showing his chest. There was something deeply brooding and mysterious about him that caused Saladina to step back a little and wait for him to give instructions of some sort.
    â€˜Don’t worry, young lady. I already told you that nearly everyone in the village has my teeth. That bread they made with stones during the war caused a lot of grief. Take a seat.’
    He sat her down in the revolving chair.
    â€˜I was already picking out the teeth for you. Open your mouth.’
    Saladina opened her mouth.
    â€˜Take those dentures out.’
    Saladina closed her mouth.
    â€˜I can’t,’ she said. ‘I’m ashamed to be seen without them. I look like a toad.’
    Taking advantage of her open mouth, Tenderlove stuck in the pliers as she spoke, yanking the dentures right out. He held them up to his eyes and inspected them carefully. She instinctively clutched her sore cheek.
    â€˜How poorly they make them around here. They think that just putting them in white is the whole job,’ he said. ‘They have no respect at all for the bone. That’s what it all comes down to: the bone. The bone is the beginning of all things, it is love, it is the essence of life. You must scrape and scrape until you get to the bone …’
    Saladina listened, captivated.
    â€˜Where did you buy it? They say you two were in England … Never mind. I’ll fix your mouth up like God intended. You’ll have to come for thirty-two days, that’s the number of pieces we have to install, sixteen in each jawbone. Eight incisors to cut through food, four canines which are used for tearing food, eight premolars for chewing, and twelve molars for grinding …’
    The Winterling nodded her head.
    â€˜It’s laborious because I have to put them in tooth by tooth, but it’s worth the trouble. You know, there have been people who already had a set of dentures in good condition who decided to change theirs for mine.’
    â€˜I heard that,’ said the Winterling suddenly. ‘To be honest, it’s strange that a man like you, who knows how to make these marvels, still has the same set of teeth you were born with …’
    â€˜Well, there’s a lot we could say about that. But back to the point: it’s clear you need new teeth. Tomorrow you can—’
    â€˜My sister was asking’ — she interrupted again — ‘what the teeth are made of?’
    Mr Tenderlove had an answer ready for her; in fact, it was