After decades of smoking, my mum may be losing her teeth. ‘The dentist looked so concerned when he looked at the X-rays that I daren’t ask him any questions,’ she said when I pressed her for details during one of our regular Skype calls. ‘I’m going back in May.’
‘You seem remarkably sanguine,’ I said. ‘I sometimes have nightmares about losing my teeth. I couldn’t imagine how I’d feel about actually losing them.’
‘Yes, in my 30s, I used to dream about losing my teeth, too, yet now I am actually losing them, I no longer dream about it,’ she smiled.
‘Have you tried reading Allen Carr’s book?’ I asked, in an effort to help stop the gum disease-causing culprit.
‘Yes, twice. But it didn’t stop me smoking. Anyway, didn’t Allen Carr start smoking again?’ [He didn’t though he died, at the age of 72, of lung cancer, 24 years after he quit his 100-a-day, 30-year habit.]

‘When are you seeing your landlord again?,’ mum asked, clearly wanting to move the conversation on.
‘Didn’t I tell you that he is definitely a player?’ I replied.
‘Yes, you did.’
‘I don’t think there was any confusion about his intentions: he took me to possibly the most romantic spot in Dubai for the first date; said he had previously been engaged twice and didn’t have kids; he thought I was a 20-something – and he’s in his mid-40s – and mentioned previously taking a 20-something out for dinner, who ordered the most expensive stuff off the menu…’
‘Yes, but are you seeing him again?’
‘After he admitted that his “ex” lives with him, I asked him twice if he was in a relationship; he ignored my question yet still messaged me [I omitted details of the flirtatious texts] so my last message was: I’m going to take your silence as confirmation. I’m not a 20-something who can’t hold a knife and fork properly, let alone a conversation… Our relationship is strictly landlord-tenant from now on.’
My mum was unfazed. ‘Is there anyone else you’re dating?,’ she asked.

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