The Little Teashop in Tokyo by Julie Caplin Page 0,113

tomorrow. Will you be free?’

‘Er … erm, I suppose—’

‘The answer is, “yes, Avril I’d love to, you’re amazing. Thank you so much.” You do realise people would kill to be on my morning programme?’

‘Not everyone wants their five minutes of fame,’ drawled Ben.

‘Yes, they do. And Fiona needs the exposure. This will do wonders for her blog, her influencer profile, and her career as a photographer.’

‘You’ve got it all sussed,’ said Ben.

She patted him on the cheek. ‘You’d better believe it, babe.’

Fiona was starting to relax, thinking she’d got away with it, when Avril pounced.

‘So, now. Gabriel Burnett. What’s the story there?’

‘There’s n-no story,’ she stammered, giving herself away.

‘I knew it. What happened? Did he remember you? Please tell me you made a big joke of it.’

‘Yes. He remembered me. And it was fine.’

Avril turned to others. ‘Our little Fiona went and planted one on him when she was a teenager. He was her teacher.’

‘Seriously?’ asked Katie staring at Fiona with astonishment.

‘I was young and foolish. And he did remember and he was nice about it.’ She blushed under their combined interest.

‘How nice?’ asked Avril.

‘We …’

‘He seemed quite agitated earlier,’ said David.

‘Apparently he had a plane to catch; he just popped in.’

‘Mmm, interesting,’ said Avril.

‘No, it’s not.’ She coloured under their combined scrutiny.

‘But you didn’t know he was coming.’ Her smirk was far too knowing.

‘No.’ Please stop asking questions, she prayed. It was as much as she could do to hold it together.

‘So he was here to surprise you.’

Fiona closed her eyes, realising that she’d adopted her awkward stork pose. ‘I really don’t want to talk about it.’

Everyone suddenly shifted on the spot.

‘Okay, sweetie,’ said Avril, the only one who wasn’t the least bit uncomfortable. She tucked her arm through her husband’s. ‘We need to go home. We promised the babysitter we’d be back by eleven. I’ll be in touch tomorrow, Fi.’

Fiona gave her a tight smile, annoyed at giving herself away. Avril would want to know everything now. And telling her would bring all the rawness back up. Katie gave her elbow a discreet squeeze of solidarity.

With a round of kisses, Avril swept her long-suffering husband away leaving the group in amused but awkward, shuffling silence.

‘She doesn’t change, does she?’ said Conrad.

‘She doesn’t,’ agreed Kate with a smile.

‘But heart of gold,’ he added. They all nodded. Thanks to her he had a regular monthly TV slot on furniture and interior design which had significantly raised his profile and led to other work – a lifesaver for a man in his sixties who had been living hand-to-mouth for several years.

Fiona smiled at them all. She didn’t know where she’d be without their friendship but if she told them about Gabe now, she’d start crying and she didn’t know if she’d be able to stop.

‘I ought to be going. I need to find out how Mum is.’ She waved her phone at them. ‘The last message I had from her said she was still waiting to be seen. Hopefully, she hasn’t done any serious damage. I ought to give her a call.’

Chapter 29

‘That’s it,’ said Avril two days later as the camera man began packing his up kit. ‘All done. And stop fretting you, look gorgeous.’ She flicked Fiona’s hair over her shoulder. ‘This is so much better than the Heidi look and I’m glad you’ve ditched that hideous bloody orangutan coat. Please tell me it went into a skip.’

Amusement twitched Fiona’s mouth. ‘It’s been passed on to someone whose mother is probably saying much the same.’

‘Oh, how could you? The fashion police will lock you up.’ She shuddered with typical Avril melodramatics.

Fiona just grinned at her. ‘Thank you for the interview. Let’s hope I won’t put people off their breakfasts.’

‘Darling, if I don’t, you certainly won’t. I’m fed up with telling you, you’re gorgeous. You’re on your own now.’

The roll of her eyes made Fiona smile and say impulsively, ‘I love you Avril.’

‘Well of course you do. Now, I’m afraid I can’t linger any longer. That’ll air tomorrow. And we need to catch up. You still haven’t told me all about the handsome Gabe Burnett. In fact, we’re off to film a quick segment at The Castille Gallery on Dover Street. Apparently he’s got a limited exhibition and my producer knows him from way back when. Want to come?’

‘No. No thanks.’ The thought of going to see pictures of Yumi in all her gorgeousness made her feel positively sick. She’d never forget that final flare of triumph in the other