The Little Teashop in Tokyo by Julie Caplin Page 0,18

landed.’ And messaged yesterday morning and evening. Luckily the nine-hour time difference meant that her mother would have been asleep during the middle of the day so she’d been able to avoid getting into a conversation with her, unlike now.

‘I’ve got a terrible sense of foreboding, you know.’

Fiona’s smile didn’t reflect her internal sigh of frustration. ‘Are you taking your tablets?’

‘Yes,’ her mother said with an indignant glare. ‘Of course I’m taking my tablets. I’m not senile, you know. And Dr Smithson was so mean last time.’

‘He wasn’t mean, he was concerned and was trying to impress the importance of taking your blood-pressure tablets.’

‘Well my blood pressure is bound to be through the roof with my only daughter so far away on her own in another country. Anything could happen to you.’ Before her mother could launch into a litany of terrible things that had happened to lone women travellers over the years, Fiona reminded her she wasn’t on her own.

‘The family I’m staying with are very kind and all speak excellent English.’ Now would have been the time to tell her about trying on the kimono but she didn’t want to spoil the memory of it, that lovely glow of belonging and warmth. Instead she chose, without thinking it through properly, safer ground. ‘And I’ll be with Gabe during the day.’ Well, in as much as yesterday he’d delivered her to places and collected her later like an unwelcome parcel he’d rather return to sender.

‘Gabe? Who’s Gabe? I thought you were going to be with Yutaka Araki.’

Funny, when it suited her, her mother’s vagueness vanished.

Fiona really did sigh this time. Rookie error. ‘Unfortunately, Mr Araki has had a family bereavement, so he can’t mentor me.’

Her mother seemed shocked and for a moment Fiona thought she might get away with it as she remained speechless for oh, at least five seconds. ‘You mean you’ve gone all that way for nothing? I knew it was a mistake, didn’t I tell you?’

‘Mum, it’s all fine. They’ve provided me with another mentor.’

‘As well they might but it’s hardly going to be comparable to Yutaka Araki, is it?’ With time on her hands, of course her mother had Googled him. Now, after weeks of complaint, she chose to be impressed. ‘I really do think you’ve made a terrible mistake.’

‘He’s a very good photographer. I’ll learn plenty.’

‘Who? Who is as good that they can find just like that? You’re being fobbed off with someone who won’t be anywhere near as good as Yutaka Araki. You do know his pictures are displayed in museums and galleries all around the world? New York, Boston, Tokyo’—at that Fiona really did roll her eyes; she’d seen several yesterday—‘Sydney, Toronto. Who are they possibly going to find to replace him?’

Fiona weighed it up and the balance of the scales fell to the wrong side, but honesty was the best policy and it was better to get this over and done with. You never know, it might distract her mother from her health.

‘My mentor is …’ Oh God, she was going to have to say it. She looked directly at the screen, at her mother’s fluttering hands and her frail form sitting in the usual high-backed armchair that was more suited to an elderly, infirm person rather than a woman of not quite fifty.

‘Who?’

‘It’s Gabriel Burnett.’

That really did shock her into silence and then her mother clutched her throat with melodramatic horror. ‘Gabriel Burnett! The man who ruined your life!’ Her mother’s face contorted. ‘I think I’m having a spasm.’

‘Mother you’re not flaming Mrs Bennet in Pride and Prejudice. People don’t have spasms. And he didn’t ruin my life.’ Just changed its course a little.

‘Gabriel Burnett.’ Her mother shook her head. ‘Gabriel Burnett. What did he say? I hope he apologised.’

‘He didn’t recognise me and he hasn’t got anything to apologise for.’

‘Oh. Well I still think it’s a mistake.’

‘He’s a very good photographer and someone I can learn from.’

‘Well you learned plenty from him last time, didn’t you? I’d have thought once bitten and all that.’

‘Mum, that was a long time ago.’ She shifted her gaze towards the window where the bright sunshine was peeping around the edges of the blind, as if trying to entice her outside. ‘I was eighteen and very young for my age at that.’ Fiona felt the flush of embarrassment stain her cheek. God, she had been incredibly young for her age. Naïve and clumsy. And yes, she’d beaten herself up about it for years, supported