The Little Teashop in Tokyo by Julie Caplin Page 0,105

sound-proof walls, although she wouldn’t mind taking a kotatsu table home with her.

‘I have something for you both.’ She handed them their individual albums.

They both opened the first page. Setsuko sighed and placed a hand over her heart. Haruka simply nodded. And then both of them, in complete accord, and with their usual calm reverence, insisted on going to sit down at the kotatsu to give the albums due consideration.

They turned the pages in silence, nodding every now and then. Fiona could feel herself hanging on to her breath waiting for their reaction but she wasn’t nervous. This was some of her very best work. The respect and admiration she felt for the Kobashi family was etched into every single picture. Her affection for the two women resonated from the pages of the album. Before they reached the end of their respective albums both of them had reached out a hand and laid it on Fiona’s.

‘Thank you,’ whispered Setsuko, resting her other hand on the album. ‘This is beautiful.’

Haruka didn’t say a word but a single tear worked its way down her normally impassive face and she gave Fiona a solemn bow. They sat in silence for several minutes more and Fiona couldn’t remember a time when she’d felt a greater sense of achievement.

***

With the kindness that had characterised her whole stay, the two women helped her pack, rolling up her clothes, admiring her leather jacket which she decided to travel in.

‘Would you mind getting rid of this for me?’ she asked, holding up the hairy coat, threadbare in some places and long overdue for the textile bank.

‘Can I have it?’ came a sudden yell from another room and Mayu appeared in the opening of the shoji doors. Yes, Fiona was definitely looking forward to sturdy walls again.

‘I guess.’ Fiona laughed while the teenage immediately put it on and modelled it with a prancing walk, a future master of tea but for the time being a rebellious teenager.

‘It’s cool.’

‘It’s ugly,’ said Haruka, making no apology to Fiona. ‘I despair.’ She frowned at her granddaughter and shook her head.

‘It’s had its day,’ Fiona said, ‘but I’m glad you like it.’ It was a symbol of her moving on. Gabe might have broken her heart but in admitting he had found her attractive, he’d also freed her from that awful sense of failure and humiliation that had influenced so many of the decisions that had limited her horizons. His heart might be out of reach, but she had her self-respect and that was worth plenty. She was a leather jacket kind of girl now.

Chapter 26

In the morning his head ached from too much thinking into the night, but he bounded out of bed with fresh purpose. He took the flight of stairs down to the studio and wondered whether to forgo coffee and go to Haruka’s straight away. Coffee won and while he was waiting for the machine, he switched on his computer. He stood and studied the photos he’d taken in the last couple of weeks. They were good, more than good. He’d got his mojo back. He’d known the pictures of Ken were good and already the magazine offers were coming thick and fast and he couldn’t wait to tackle the new commissions.

Sipping at his coffee he studied the last lot of shots he’d worked on late last night, cropping to make sure they put the subject and compositions centre stage and gave himself a small pat on the back. There was an energy and honesty about his work that had been missing for quite a while. He’d called Fiona Sleeping Beauty, but it had been him that had been sleep walking through the past three years.

He winced. Funny how quickly a scene like that could remove the scales. Yumi didn’t really love anyone but herself and with sadness, he reflected, she probably hadn’t ever loved him anymore than he’d really loved her. It had suited them both, their careers and their lifestyles, to be together; it had become habit and then when she’d married, pride had made him hang on to a friendship to demonstrate to curious eyes that he was man enough to take her rejection. A friendship that was as empty as it was authentic.

Despite these less than edifying thoughts – and the realisation he’d been a complete arse for a lot of his life – this morning the world appeared so much brighter. The load was lighter. He scanned the surface of the desk. The memory