I have the paperclip now. My hand is flat on the lounger-chair handle and the clip is under my middle finger. I move it up. Slow and smooth. I push my arm and I take the clip in my fingers and Julia leaves. He’s mixing the compound. I take the paperclip in my fingers while he’s staring into my wide-open mouth. I open it with my fingertips and it feels wonderful. There’s a surge of adrenaline in my body. Adrenaline mixed with hope. Keep looking into my mouth, you beast. Do not stop. I manage to get half of the clip open. My fingertips ache from the contortion. Everything aches.

He adjusts the suction tube and then starts applying the cement or whatever it is to my tooth. Scraping and scratching. Adjusting. I have the pin. It’s full-length now. Almost straight. Julia walks back in.

‘I’ll leave this for five minutes to set a little and then I’ll check your bite.’

That means this plastic retractor will be removed from my mouth at last. I could cry with relief. He walks through the shower curtain with her.

Focus, Tuva.

I move the folded-out paperclip so it points into the pad of my index fingertip and I stab the other end into the duct tape wrapped around my wrist. I stab and stab. Dozens of tiny holes. Scratches on the silver tape. I want the holes in some kind of line to weaken the integrity of the tape so I keep stabbing. My eyes are straining down to my hand and the suction tube is pulling saliva from around my tongue.

They’re kissing in reception by the fishtank full of dead, floating fish. I can hear them. The noises. The groaning. Are they having sex back there?

I keep stabbing. I manage to get through so deep in one spot that I stab the skin under my wrist.

Blood.

Please, don’t have hit a vein. Please don’t let this alert Tobias. Will the tape soak up the blood? Will it drip onto the tarp?

The shower curtain opens and Tobias is standing there, the faint smudge of apricot lipstick on the edge of his mouth.

‘Nurse, please.’

Julia walks in, smiling, her hair a mess.

‘Please, remove the speculum, if you would.’

I let my hand go limp. There’s no visible blood, nothing to give the game away.

She unscrews the clamps, holding the spring-loaded mouth retractor in place. The hard plastic scrapes over my teeth as she removes it.

I close my jaw and open it again. I move it from side to side, relishing the movement. The freedom. I blow air from my mouth and swallow down the bitter fluids inside my mouth.

‘I need to check your bite,’ says Tobias. ‘You’re not going to do what you did last time, are you?’