up abruptly. I came across quite a few disgruntled dentists when I first tried calling clinics in London. The manners I encountered certainly put me off having any dental work done there.
The official title of my job is Gold Purchase Consultant. Mr Chin says we make a lot of dentists very happy and I believe he is right. We take unwanted gold off their hands and give them cash in return. I have noticed that people appreciate cash, especially dentists who nearly always have some gold in a drawer or cabinet. The dental industry’s attachment to this precious metal is historical. For centuries, gold was the best tooth filling money could buy. People even used to insert chips in their front teeth for decorative purposes but these days it is mainly rap music enthusiasts who seek this kind of dental augmentation. The most popular fillings are now made from composite materials or high-quality ceramics. Unfortunately for Mr Chin, these have no resale value.
Nearly all the gold I purchase comes from crowns in teeth that have been extracted. Dentists often keep this gold because most people are too upset after having teeth pulled to ask about it. I doubt that I would remember to ask about mine. Tooth extraction can be painful and is often traumatic for the dental patient.
As a gold purchase consultant, my job is to make the first contact and break the ice using the Honey Trap. Once I have established the existence of surplus gold and the dentist’s willingness to sell it, Mr Chin takes over and handles negotiations. We are a team but the relationship is strictly a boss-assistant one. Mr Chin has very fixed ideas about business and has no interest in my opinions. I am forbidden to take initiative or deviate from the Honey Trap. This arrangement is ideal for me because I work best within set parameters. Decision-making is something I find difficult, especially when I am dealing with an aggressive dentist.
Mr Chin had kept his eye on me while I talked to the Dundee dentist and was still watching when I pushed the hold button and signalled for him to pick up the phone. The elderly dentist had just agreed to sell a shoebox of gold crowns. He told me he had been collecting them since 1958, which is the year the first parking meter was installed in England. The dentist said he would be happy to get rid of the box. It was taking up cupboard space and was now too heavy for him to lift.
I thought the purchase would make Mr Chin happy and I was right. When he got off the phone he took his personal chopsticks from his drawer and drummed on the desktop for at least thirty seconds. He was smiling with his mouth open and I could see the glint of gold fillings in his molars. The smile was still there when he left to eat an early lunch at the Mandarin restaurant.
There are two Chinese restaurants within walking distance of our office, which is located near the centre of town above the old Babylon Cinema. The Babylon was closed down in 1981 because of an electrical problem but had been a popular venue in its heyday. Its entrance is very ornate with a large metal awning and pillars designed to resemble the façade of a Roman bathhouse. I know precisely when it closed because you can still see the faded stills for Cat People in the display case on the wall next to the cinema entrance. The showpiece of the display is a length of dusty fake fur with the caption: ‘Actual replica of tail worn by Nastassja Kinski.’ I never saw Cat People but apparently it was a popular movie with nude scenes about people who turned into large cats. It was released before I was born.
The door to the office stairs is located behind one of the ornate pillars and is reinforced by steel rails to prevent access with a crowbar. Mr Chin had another steel door with a powerful spring hinge installed at the top of the stairs. He monitors the doorway from where he sits which happens to be directly above the trapdoor to the old projection room. This trapdoor is locked and covered with a colourful Chinese carpet square. Mr Chin’s desk and chair are positioned on top of the carpet. He says the projection room is dangerous and has forbidden me to go anywhere near it. I obey his instructions but do not understand his decision to sit above an unsafe trapdoor.
By the time Mr Chin returned to the office, I had called two more dentists and set up purchases of several more crowns. Mr Chin looked very different after his early lunch. His cheeks were red and shiny and his eyes were bloodshot. In his hand was a plastic bag from the Mandarin restaurant. It clinked as he placed it on his desk. Licking his lips, he circled the furniture, saying, ‘Yes, yes, yes.’ The only time I had seen him so agitated was during the Chinese New Year celebrations when he won a bottle of plum liquor in a raffle. I had not been working at the office very long and was quite surprised by the sudden liveliness of his manner. He was now showing the same vivacity and looking very pleased with himself.
‘Today now holiday. Chin require rest and relaxation,’ he said, waving his small hand around. He sat down on his Komfort King and pushed his head against its vinyl cushion. ‘Go home. Go shopping. Go find boyfriend. Do what normal girl do.’
‘Normally I work,’ I said. ‘Today is Friday, a normal working day.’
‘Normally, normally, normally. What normally? You not normal girl. Very abnormal in fact.’
‘Abnormal?’ I sat up straight and made a mental note to record the word in the COMMENTS subsection of my OBSERVATIONS ring binder. It is the Chinese custom to criticise and I have learned to take such criticism as encouragement. Mr Chin’s assessment was like a red flag.
‘Certainly abnormal. No friend. No boyfriend. No dog. Not even small dog that is high-quality Pekinese. You very peculiar girl.’
‘Peculiar?’ Another word to file away.
‘Peculiar. Abnormal. No matter what.’ Mr Chin closed his eyes and smiled to himself. Opening them again, he pointed a finger at me. ‘You come to office too early, work too late. Never complain. Never thieve ballpoint pen. Never make private phone call and email. What English girl do such? Certainly not normal English girl.’
‘But as you said, I have no friends to call or email. And you don’t supply pens so I couldn’t steal one even if I were that way inclined.’
‘Crazy and nuts. I supply petty cash box of ten pounds sterling in rolling drawer. Normal person buy pen with petty cash then thieve. That is most regular English solution.’ He looked at me and shook his head. ‘You like house of too many window. Wind blow through house always. Take force and energy. House too empty. You too yin, too damp-cold. Need yang.’
‘My feet do get cold in winter.’ In fact my feet were cold as I spoke and it was not even winter. ‘Is there a cure?’
‘Eat meat of pork and so on. Take more yang force. Warm up feets.’
‘I couldn’t eat pork and so on. Modern animal husbandry is not humane and mass-produced meat is full of chemicals. You never know what you might find inside a sausage.’ I did not bother to tell him that my mother believed sausages were stuffed with sweepings from the floor of the abattoir.
‘Abnormal.’ Mr Chin pursed his lips into a point and shook his head. ‘Sausage is traditional English. Normal English love sausage and so on.’
‘Correct.’ Despite my mother’s beliefs about their contents, she bought pork sausages every week from Mr Da Silva. ‘I am partial to vegetarian sausages.’
‘You need professional expert. American Jewish make highest-quality expert for head. Go find such person.’ He hesitated a moment, as if thinking over something important. ‘I give you present of one hundred pound liquid cash.’
‘One hundred pounds! That’s a very handsome gift!’ I was stunned by the offer. Mr Chin never gave money away, ever. My condition had to be a lot more serious than I imagined.
‘One-time only investment.’ Mr Chin lifted his heavy money belt out from under his shirt. It was made of flesh-coloured leather and perfectly camouflaged
