I never understood why they called food 'toothsome'. You see it in old stories; there's a moment in Anne of Green Gables where they wonder how to divide some 'toothsome' raspberry tarts, and it sounds delicious, but I wondered how teeth came into it.
There's a vintage food store in my local farmer's market, you see, and they sell raspberry tarts. Lots of traditional treats, actually, with a lovely organic taste to the fruit. Funny old man runs it; thin as a rake, he is, with a face so leathery you'd think he smoked like a factory chimney, but teeth brilliant white. You can see him smile from fifty paces.
The strangest thing - I keep forgetting his name. Mostly I'm pretty good with names, and we're a friendly neighbourhood so I've had a lot of practice remembering who's who. I asked around, and one of my neighbours said they thought his name was Tommy, but then another thought it was Johnny and another thought it was Robbie, and still another swore they thought it was Nolly. I said I didn't think that was even a real name, but apparently it is. It's just out of fashion; people used to use it as a pet name for 'Oliver', like 'Nell' for 'Elinor'. They did that for centuries, but then it dropped out of use round the end of the nineteenth century or so.
And it's awkward not knowing his name because he's nice, but one of those people that stands very strict on manners. You see it when a child buys a cake from him: 'What do you say?' he'll ask before he hands it to them, and he waits, his eyes on them sharp as tacks. Of course they say 'Thank you,' and then he gives them that bright grin and says, 'Good girl' or 'Good boy' and hands them the cake looking properly happy. If they say 'Thank you very much,' he doesn't just say 'Good girl'; he adds, 'It'll do you a power of good.'
Nice of him, really. Kids with better manners probably have kinder parents, so I suppose it's not surprising that the polite ones are the healthiest kids around the neighbourhood. There was little Chloe Banks, of course; she'd had asthma for years, really bad, the kind that meant sometimes she had to be taken out of school and there were days when the poor lamb's wheezing got so bad they took her into hospital. They thought there might be more to it than just asthma, even - she'd just been having one of her stays to be checked out when she came by Nolly's stall. Her parents were taking her out as a treat before she had to go back in.
She went to buy a cake from him - an apple cake, I think. Nolly didn't even have to say, 'What do you say?' before Chloe said, 'Thank you very much for the cake.' Oh, you should have seen him grin; I swear he smiled so wide his teeth flashed in the sun.
'What a good girl,' he said. 'There you go with my blessing.'
Everyone loves Chloe. It was such good news when the hospital found nothing wrong with her. They even said she might be starting to grow out of it - she's not had an attack for weeks now.
So Nolly, or Johnny or Tommy or Robbie or whatever his name is - he's a kind man. Loves the kids. But he can't be having with bad manners, and he's the same with adults as he is with children. 'What do you say?' he'll ask, even if it's a great burly man in his fifties.
I'm happy enough to thank him. He's a bit set in his ways, perhaps, but it's not like he's asking too much. Manners never hurt anyone, as my granny used to say.
So the other day I was at his stall and I got talking to him a bit. I'd seen it on some meme or other that they used to make fake raspberry jam and fill it with little bits of wood to look like pips, and I thought it might interest him. He does have a vintage thing going on, after all.
He looked at me very quick. 'Now if it's birch wood,' he said, 'that's a blessing. Keeps off things you don't want. Hawthorn wood, though, that'd have you right enough. Invites em all in. And there's worse things than wood.'
Well, I didn't quite know what to say, but I've always found you can get along with Nolly fine as long as he knows you're trying to be polite, so I said, 'That's interesting. I never heard that before.'
He cocked his head, grinned at me, nodded. He was giving me points for my reply, I think. What he'd have said next I don't know, except that at that moment another customer turned up.
I'd seen her around, but honestly she never looked very nice so I hadn't tried to talk to her. Some people have hard eyes, you know? You looked at her and you just knew: she was always ready to go. Say the wrong thing and she'd get right on her high horse with you.
So there we were, and Nolly was talking to me, and she said, 'Well, IF you don't mind, I'd like to buy a cake,' like she was daring him to say something.
Nolly gave her an up-and-down stare. 'I wouldn't if I were you,' he said. 'Bad for your teeth.'
'Nobody wants your opinion,' she said. 'My nephew likes your raspberry tarts, so give me two of them and never mind playing dentist.'
Her nephew looked a bit embarrassed, and he said, 'Thank you,' quite quietly. I think that's why Nolly gave them the tarts - or at least, he wrapped one up for the nephew and said, 'There you are, good boy. You hold fast.' Then he reached under the counter and took out another tart for the woman, wrapped it up and gave it to her.
'That's for you,' he said. 'Just what the doctor ordered.'
She put down her money crossly and went off, holding her nephew by the hand.
It was uncomfortable, so I felt like I'd change the subject. I said, 'Could I get one too, please? One of the raspberries, if that's okay?'
Nolly turned back to me, smiling bright as ever, and handed me one. 'There you are,' he said. 'They're all toothsome in their way. Ach, but you'll come to no harm, not a nice girl like you.'
I was biting into it when I heard the shriek. The woman who'd just bought from him was clutching her mouth, and I could see blood between her fingers.
Everyone was gathering, but I ran over too; I know a bit of first aid. I had to tell her that several times before she'd listen enough to lower her hand. If you've broken a tooth, there's a chance the fragment can be glued back on if you find it and keep it in milk till you get to the dentist, and I thought that might be happening there.
Then she dropped the hand covering her mouth, and I saw them. Little white flecks swarming. I thought at first she had a mouthful of parasites somehow, but then they started forming up. They gathered together like fish shoaling. A full set of teeth, tiny as seeds, gathered into place around the tip of her tongue.
I swear that just before they bit it off, they grinned at me.
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