THE FIRST PLACE I practised dentistry was in Rainham, Kent. Every Thursday, we climbed into my then boss’s open-topped TR 7 sports car, and drove down the High Street to a pub called The Cricketers. There, we used to enjoy a hearty meat and two veg lunch. One of the waitresses, a middle-aged woman, was a patient at the practice and always made sure that we were given large portions. On other days, I used to eat either in the practice or in one of the other local eateries. Sometimes, I would go into the local branch of Tesco’s supermarket to buy myself a few items for lunch. These always included either a Mars bar or a chocolate covered honeycomb caramel called a Crunchie. All the cashiers in the supermarket knew where I worked, and often, whilst I was paying, they would raise the Mars or Crunchie in the air, and shout:

“Look what the dentist is eating!”

Recently, I entered a grocery shop near Portobello Road. I noticed a black cat resting on a shelf surrounded by tins, bottles, and boxes containing tubes of toothpaste. Seeing this creature reminded me of my days long ago in Rainham. There was a small ‘corner shop’ across the road from our surgery. The lady who owned it made very acceptable, generously filled sandwiches. Every now and then I used to buy one of her sandwiches for lunch. I used to accompany this with a packet of potato crisps. These packs were kept in an open topped cardboard box in no particular order. I used to rummage through its contents and select the pack that I fancied.

One day, I entered the shop to buy my lunch. When I turned to look at the box containing the packs of crisps, I saw a very plump cat comfortably curled up on top of the packets of crisps. Despite the fact that the crisps were sealed in their packets, I did not feel like choosing one. As I left the shop, I wondered where else that cat chose to rest during the day. Thinking about that put me off ever entering that little shop again.