The Little Teashop in Tokyo by Julie Caplin Page 0,101
back again.
‘Gabe?’
‘Mmm, you’ve got some cracking shots here.’
‘Gabe!’ she said more sharply this time.
He lifted his head and looked at her properly. She held up the phone, her brain clumsily trying to compute the facts. Her phone was in Gabe’s bag. Right on the top. He must have known it was here. All the time.
A range of expressions flitted across his face: trapped, caught out, and guilty before settling on consternation.
‘This is my phone.’
‘Uh-huh,’ he said and she could see his Adam’s apple dipping. ‘Your phone.’
‘What was it doing in your bag?’
He grimaced and stood up. As he took a few steps towards her, she held it out in front of her like a sword, albeit a very feeble and pathetic sword, warning him to keep his distance, but he kept coming.
She shook her head. ‘No, stay there.’
He sighed and held up his hands.
She scowled at him. Did he really think his easy surrender was going to get him out of this?
‘I’m sorry but I did it for your own good.’
She raised a scandalised eyebrow, making it clear what she thought of that sorry-arsed line. ‘Own good?’
‘Sorry. Now I’ve said that out loud, it sounds a bit dickish.’
‘Probably because it’s a lot dickish.’
‘I wanted you to have a good time and … not have to worry about your mum every five minutes.’
She let this sink in amid a mass of fury that was radiating through every cell in her brain. If someone could thermo image it right now, it probably looked like the centre of a volcano before it blew.
‘So you … took my phone.’
He nodded, shoving his hands in his back pockets and leaning back slightly. ‘Yes. But we did have a good time …’ He paused.
What, he expected her to agree? Her mind clouded by bloody marvellous sex?
Now he added more tentatively. ‘And you didn’t have to worry about her.’
Her head was surely going to explode. ‘And you think that’s okay? What if my mum had been seriously ill? What if she needed me?’
‘Fi, she could have got hold of you. At any time if it was urgent. You know she could.’
‘That’s not the point.’
‘Yes, it is. She’s constantly messaging you. You said yourself there’s nothing wrong with her. She manipulates you.’
‘Yes.’ Fiona drew herself up with all the disdain she could muster, anger battling with disappointment for dominance. ‘She does. And I handle it. I’m not a child, you know. I’ve been dealing with my mother for years. I know exactly how she operates.’
She glared at him and saw him flinch. Good. With icy hauteur, she narrowed her eyes and took a step towards him. ‘Did it ever occur to you that my messages to her are reassurance? Her security blanket? A fail safe, like a pressure valve? She knows I’m not going to come running. We’ve been there, done that. She’s a lonely woman who doesn’t have much in her life but me.’
‘And maybe you like that,’ he said standing straighter, folding his arms, suddenly combative.
She stared at him. ‘Pardon?’
He screwed up his mouth before speaking, giving her a level assessing gaze. ‘We all want to feel needed and essential to someone else’s happiness and wellbeing. I’m just pointing out that perhaps it satisfies something in you. Makes you feel a bit better about yourself. A bit less guilty that you don’t take her illnesses seriously.’
Outrage took her breath away. ‘What! How dare you? You’re the last one to talk about manipulation. Yumi’s got that leash so tight, one tug and you come running.’
‘Don’t bring her into this.’
‘Why the hell not? You say I’m manipulated but I’m completely aware of what my mother is up to. I manage it. You, you’re absolutely clueless. And you’re a complete fool. She’s got you dancing to her tune whenever she wants.’
Gabe’s fists clenched at his sides and she could see she’d really touched a nerve. His jaw jutted out with all the belligerence of a boxer in the ring.
‘You’re jealous,’ he spat with a touch of spite. It hit bang on target because it was true and in that moment, she knew if she’d ever had him, she’d lost him now. Gabe would always be tied to Yumi.
She lifted her chin, determined to be honest because she had absolutely nothing to lose.
‘Yes, I am. She’s everything I’m not and you can’t let go of her. You’re in love with the idea of being in love with her. I think you probably always will be.’