She’d had problems with her top row ever since she’d lost her first set of milk teeth. The main front incisor was buckled and protrusive, had a gap to its left but partially covered its neighbour to the right. To rectify this problem, a dentist had fitted Joy with a thin wire which circled her front teeth and was held in place by a large, plastic disc. This disc had been specifically modelled to the contours of the roof of Joy’s mouth. Not modelled well enough, though, by every indication, because bits of bread and fruit and food and sweet-stuff always got lodged under it while she ate. They snook and snuck and jostled against the wire and the roof of her mouth. They stuck around and niggled her, even after gargling. Wesley watched as Joy sucked her teeth and then inspected the brace as it lay on her hand. It was semi-transparent. It made him think of jelly fish and the middle of an oyster. ‘Ruff! Ruff!’ he barked, and bounced around like a dog so that he didn’t have to watch her as she picked at the residue on her brace with her fingers and then licked them clean with her tongue.
