The Little Teashop in Tokyo by Julie Caplin Page 0,13

Lumix in his pocket.

‘I feel like I’m in Blade Runner.’ She shot a quick frustrated glare at him. ‘I wish I’d brought my camera now. This would be perfect for my blog.’ She took out her phone instead and busied herself taking lots of snaps. ‘And it’s definitely an Instagram moment.’

Around them were lots of other spellbound tourists trying to capture the brightly coloured images which streamed across the giant screens mounted on every available surface of the buildings guarding the busy intersection. Gabe knew from experience they didn’t photograph well without the right equipment but left Fiona to it, watching her expressive, mobile face, thoughtful and absorbed by degrees as she snapped away.

Intrigued and slightly bemused by the realisation, it occurred to him that for the first time in a very long time, he could feel that creative itch. He wanted to take her picture and capture all that wholesome enthusiasm.

‘Come on, we haven’t got much time. We ought to be thinking about getting back.’ He took a few steps forward as she paused to take one last picture with her phone and then the lights changed and a surge of pedestrians came across the road, like a tidal flood with a fast-flowing stream coming the other way. One minute Fiona was by his side and the next she’d vanished.

***

Swept along by the rush of people, Fiona suddenly realised how crowded it was. This was worse than Oxford Street on Christmas Eve. Even though she was a little taller than the average person here, she couldn’t see through the mass of people. Where was Gabe? She’d lost him. Trying to stand still and search for him was impossible; she was jostled and pushed in every direction like a piece of flotsam bobbing in the sea. Working her way through the crowd, she did her best to make it back to the place where she’d last seen Gabe but she couldn’t seem to find it and realised she’d lost her bearings. With the changing images, she wasn’t sure if this was the street they’d been on. There were several to choose from at the busy crossing.

Being among this many people was suffocating and her throat tightened. Don’t panic, she told herself. You’ll find him. But even as she eyed the masses of people, her stomach tightened into a hard knot. There was no sign of him and they hadn’t exchanged mobile numbers – her own fault; she hadn’t wanted to ask him. Hadn’t wanted anything that would be too familiar. Foolish now, she thought. He hadn’t even remembered her anyway.

A light sweat filtered its way down her back. Among all these people she was overheating and had to undo her coat. Did she even know how to get back to Haruka’s house? Nippon, Nipple, something like that. Even though Gabe had told her the name of the station they’d used yesterday, the unfamiliar name hadn’t sunk in. Nor the line they’d used. Yamaha? Yama something. Would she even be able to find it? This was worse than when she’d got lost on the beach in Scarborough on holiday with her mum. At least then she spoke the language and the nice lady that had found her had called the police. It had been terrifying but she’d known what to do. Pulling out of the crowd, she rested against one of the shop windows, her breath shallow. Tears filled her eyes and she wished she was back at home in safe and familiar surroundings. The environment here seemed so alien and different from anything she’d ever known. For a moment she wished she hadn’t come and she pushed both her hands in her pockets, huddling into her coat in despair. Her fingers found her rail pass and the little netsuke. She rubbed its smooth surface trying to be brave. Her dad hadn’t made it to her age – he’d died of some undiagnosed heart condition – and the thought of it made her remember that this was supposed to be an opportunity. A once-in-a-lifetime trip. She needed to pull herself together and ask for help.

No one gave her so much as a second look as they hurried by, heads down, with great purpose. There were quite a few Western tourists about but without knowing which station she needed to get to, she could hardly ask for help. Suddenly she remembered that Gabe had said it was a circular line. And she knew it began with Yama. That was a start. On