The Little Teashop in Tokyo by Julie Caplin Page 0,102

the aghast expression on his face as the words sank in. Instead she pushed her phone into her pocket and walked out without another word.

***

She didn’t go straight back to Haruka’s. Instead she stalked around the neighbourhood with stiff-legged strides, trying to burn away her fury, going over and over Gabe’s words in her head. He was wrong. He didn’t know anything about her or her mother. And he was the last person to … to say anything. He was still too messed up by Yumi. Well, he deserved her. If he couldn’t see how she used him, that was his problem.

Finally, when she was convinced she could act normally rather than like a fire-breathing dragon, she found her way back to Haruka’s house, grateful that the Japanese left their doors open and she could slip into her room without having to speak to anyone, although it seemed no one was home. Even so, with burglar-like stealth she crept quietly in and drew the shoji doors closed.

Her phone had one percent of battery left, so she plugged it in to charge and scanned the messages. Annoyingly, Gabe had been right. Her mother’s messages had ground to a halt once she realised that Fiona wasn’t responding.

I was so worried but I phoned the emergency number you gave me and I spoke to a very nice lady who told me you’d gone away to an area where there was no phone signal but that it’s very safe in Japan and that I shouldn’t worry. She was very reassuring.

Thank you, Haruka. Fiona lay down on the mattress and stared up at the ceiling holding her phone in one hand.

For a moment her finger hovered over the little white conversation box at the bottom of the screen in WhatsApp and then she put her phone down. There was a sense of relief. A burden lifted. She didn’t have to message her mother, not right now. The get-out-of-jail-free card was valid for a little while longer. Who knew, maybe it would do her mother good to survive on her own for a bit. Fiona had been out of touch for two days. Hardly a lifetime. And no, she wasn’t going to think about Gabe’s unkind words, that maybe she liked being needed because that wasn’t true … was it?

And he was one to talk. Their fling, or whatever you wanted to call it, hadn’t really meant anything to him. A bit of fun. An interlude. The only person he really cared about was Yumi which, yes, did hurt. She’d never expected Gabe to love her but seeing that he was capable of loving someone who so didn’t deserve it, well, that did hurt. It hurt a lot, almost a real physical pain digging in under her ribs with a hollow ache. She clutched her middle, fighting back tears. She’d never stood a chance with Gabe, she always knew that, but having it brought home to her so absolutely made it harder to bear somehow.

She heard a noise downstairs and straightened up, swiping away a stray tear that had the temerity to fight free.

Chapter 25

Setsuko reached up, her pale hand stark against the black matt caddies with their gold calligraphy, and Fiona knew the shot was perfect. Taking a breath, Fiona pressed the button slowly this time, feeling her anger dissipate at the sight of Setsuko’s sure, calm grace.

Fury and rage had driven her for the first fifteen minutes and she’d been like a whirling ninja firing shots left, right, and centre, greedily sucking up every image that presented itself of the tourists exploring the tiny shop, lifting and pawing at the chawan, cooing and exclaiming over the scents of the teas and their recent tea ceremony experience. To her churning spirit they were like invaders, but now that the tour group had left, the quiet and heavy layers of history and culture began to settle her. Without saying anything, Setsuko made a small pot of tea and put it on a tray with three matcha bowls and came to sit at one of the tables.

‘Come, sit.’ She patted the bench beside her.

Fiona set down her camera and watched as Setsuko poured three jasmine-scented cups of tea and pushed one towards her. The other woman didn’t say anything, just sipped at her tea and waited. Next to her, Fiona was aware of her absolute stillness.

Fiona swallowed, trying to down the lump that had wedged itself tight in her throat. She stared at one of the paper