Michael Bond - Paddington Takes the Air

“A fractured cusp,” said Mr Leach stiffly, as he busied himself with a tray of instruments, “merely means you have a broken tooth.” He wagged his finger roguishly. “I have a feeling we’ve been eating something we shouldn’t.”

Paddington sank back in his chair and looked at the dentist with renewed interest. “Have you been making toffee too, Mr Leach?” he exclaimed.

Mr Leach gave Paddington a strange look. “You have quite a large piece of double tooth missing,” he said, slowly and carefully, “and I shall have to make you a new top to replace it.”

Looking most upset at this latest piece of news, Paddington reached out a paw for the nearby glass of pink liquid. “I think I’ll have my orangeade now, Mr Leach, if you don’t mind,” he exclaimed.

“That,” said Mr Leach sternly, “is not orangeade. It’s not even for drinking. It’s put there so that you can swill your mouth out and get rid of the bits and pieces after I’ve finished drilling. If I kept every young bear who came in here supplied with free drinks I’d soon be out of business.”

He looked distastefully at Paddington’s front where the fur had already become rather soggy from the drips and then signalled his nurse to tie a plastic bib round Paddington’s neck. “Would we like an injection?” he asked. “It may hurt otherwise.”

“Yes, please,” said Paddington promptly. “I’ll have two if you like.”

“I think one will be sufficient,” replied Mr Leach, holding a syringe up to the light. “Now, open your mouth wide, please,” he continued. “And don’t forget, this is going to hurt me more than it hurts you.”

Paddington dutifully obeyed Mr Leach’s instructions and, in fact, apart from a slight prick, it was much less painful than he had expected.

“Shall I do yours now, Mr Leach?” he asked.

Mr Leach gave him a strange look. “Mine?” he repeated. “I don’t have one.”

Paddington gave Mr Leach an equally strange look in return. “You said we were going to have one,” he persisted. “ And you said yours would hurt more than mine.”

Mr Leach stared at Paddington for a moment as if he could hardly believe his ears and then turned to his nurse. “I think,” he said, breathing heavily, “we’ll try putting a wedge in his mouth. It may make things easier.

“Now,” he continued, turning to Paddington as the nurse handed him a piece of plastic-looking material. “I want you to open your mouth again, say ‘ah’, and when I’ve put this in, take a good, hard bite.”

Paddington opened his mouth and let out a loud “aaaah”.

“Good,” said Mr Leach approvingly, as he reached into the opening. “Now, one more ‘aah’ like that and then a good hard bite. And whatever happens from now on – don’t let go.”

“Aaaaah,” said Paddington.

Mr Leach’s face seemed to change colour suddenly. “Ooooooooh,” he cried.

“Oooooooooooh,” repeated Paddington, biting harder than ever.

“Owwwwwwwwwwwwwww,” shouted Mr Leach, as he began dancing up and down.

“Owwwwwwww,” called Paddington, nearly falling out of the chair in his excitement. “Owwwwwwwwwww!”

“Ouch!” shrieked Mr Leach. “Owwwwwwwwwww! Oooooooooooooo! Aaaaaaaaaaa!”

Outside in the waiting-room, the Browns looked anxiously at one another. “Poor old Paddington,” said Jonathan. “It sounds as if he’s going through it.”

“I do hope it doesn’t take much longer,” said Mrs Brown. “I don’t know about Paddington, but I’m not sure if I can stand a lot more.”

As it happened, Mrs Brown’s prayers were answered almost before the words were out of her mouth, for at that moment, the surgery door burst open and a white-faced nurse appeared in the opening.

“Can you come quickly?” she cried.

Mrs Brown clutched at her throat. “Paddington!” she cried. “He’s not…”

“No,” said the nurse, “he’s not! We haven’t even started on him yet. It’s Mr Leach we’re having trouble with.”

Mrs Bird hurried into the surgery clutching her umbrella. “Whatever’s going on?” she demanded.

“Aaaaaaaaaaaah,” replied Paddington.

“Ooooooooooh!” shrieked Mr Leach. “Ooooh! Ouch! Aaaaaaaah!”

“Crikey!” exclaimed Jonathan, as he and Judy dashed towards the chair where Paddington and Mr Leach appeared to be inextricably locked together.

“You grab Mr Leach,” cried Judy. “I’ll pull Paddington.”

A moment later Mr Leach staggered back across the room. “My thumb,” he said slowly and distinctly as he glared at the occupant of the chair, “my thumb – or what’s left of it – was caught under your wedge, bear!”

Paddington put on his injured expression. “You said bite hard and not let go whatever happened, Mr Leach,” he explained.

Mrs Brown gazed anxiously at the dentist as he stood in the middle of the surgery nursing his injury. “Would you like us to come back another day?” she asked doubtfully.

Mr Leach appeared for a moment to be undergoing some kind of deep internal struggle and then he took a grip of himself. “No,” he said at last. “No! When I became a dentist I knew there would be days when things wouldn’t always go right.” He looked at Paddington and then reached for his drill. “I’ve had twenty most enjoyable years. I suppose it had to come to an end some time and I’m certainly not letting a bear’s cusp get the better of me now!”

It was some time before Paddington emerged again from Mr Leach’s surgery, and although all had remained quiet, the Browns were relieved to see him looking none the worse for his experience. Instead, as he hurried into the waiting-room holding his mouth open for all to see, he looked positively excited.

“Mr Leach is going to give me a new gold tooth,” he announced importantly. “My cusp’s so large he doesn’t think an ordinary one would stand the strain.”

Mr Leach permitted himself a smile as he hovered in the doorway nursing a bandaged thumb. “I think we’re winning at long last,” he said. “I’d like to see young Mr Brown again next week for a final fitting.”

“Thank you very much, Mr Leach,” said Paddington gratefully. Bending down he undid his suitcase, withdrew a large paper bag and held it out. “Perhaps you’d like to try one of these?”

Mr Leach hesitated. “I… er… I don’t normally indulge,” he said, peering into the bag. “It doesn’t set a very good example. But I must say they look tempting. It’s very kind of you. I… er…”

As he placed one of Paddington’s everlasting toffees into his mouth, Mr Leach’s voice trailed away and for the second time that morning his face took on a glazed expression.

“Grrrrrr,” he gurgled, pointing to his mouth. “Glug!”

Paddington peered at him with interest. “I hope you haven’t fractured one of your cusps now, Mr Leach,” he said anxiously.

Mr Leach glared at him for a moment and then staggered back into his surgery, clutching his jaw. Far from being fractured, his cusps gave the impression they were cemented together for all time, and the look on his face as he slammed the door boded ill for the next patient on his list that morning.

Paddington looked most upset. “I only thought he would like one to be going on with,” he exclaimed.

“Going on with is right,” said Mrs Bird grimly, as a series of muffled exclamations reached their ears. “By the sound of things it’ll be going on until this time next week.”

She held out her hand. “I know something else that’s due to be disposed of just as soon as we get home. We’ve had quite enough bear’s everlasting toffee for one day.”

Judy squeezed Paddington’s paw as they climbed into a taxi to take them home. “Never mind,” she whispered. “There can’t be too many bears who are able to say they’re having a gold tooth made for them.”