The Little Teashop in Tokyo by Julie Caplin Page 0,21

wondered about telling Setsuko what had happened but the other woman didn’t prod her or have a hungry, expectant look on her face; she seemed as if her own thoughts had taken her elsewhere, so Fiona leaned back against the wall in the cosy confines of the room, sipped her tea, and let the memories wash over her.

She’d been eighteen. She and Evie Blundell, a friend – not a best friend but they’d shared a passion for photography – had both been nominated by their art teacher to spend half term at an art camp in London, the October prior to A levels. Fiona brought the cup up to her nose, inhaling the fragrant smell of the tea, recalling that youthful fizz of excitement as the two of them boarded the train for their first day. An autumn day of russet colours where sunshine dappled the trees, heralding a morning full of the promise of what might be.

Day one had exceeded expectation as they’d found themselves in a college environment where they were treated like young adults on first-name terms with their tutors rather than the formal distance of school. Fiona smiled to herself. By the end of the first week, she and Evie had imagined themselves quite grown up with a gloss of sophistication acquired through regular commuting into London and mixing with slightly older students, although everyone in the class had been equally star struck when it was announced that the following week Gabriel Burnett would be tutoring them. Gabriel Burnett. Even the cool kids were impressed.

Even now, Fiona remembered the first time she’d met him.

Gabriel Burnett had the bluest eyes Fiona had ever seen. He turned up slightly late on the first morning and apologised with charm and a laid-back approach that immediately set the over-excited class at ease. He might be used to mixing with models and celebrities, but he treated them as equals.

‘Isn’t he gorgeous?’ Fiona had sighed, gazing at him from the second row back.

‘Utterly, but way out of our league,’ agreed Evie, settling her chin into her hand and studying him with a happy groan.

‘Those eyes,’ Fiona whispered and as she did he glanced up sharply and stared right at her as if he’d heard her. A fizz bounced around her stomach as he’d held her gaze for … well, for ages – or at least it had felt like ages.

‘Contacts. They must be,’ said Evie, breaking the spell. ‘But he’s seriously fit. Check out that arse.’

Fiona was too busy checking out the high cheekbones and longish hair swept off his face, tied with a leather strap which had seemed desperately glamorous and strikingly bohemian at the same time. Inside her chest her heart fluttered like a butterfly flitting from flower to flower.

And he was so nice. So friendly. He chatted to everyone. She’d thought he might be arrogant and full of himself but he wasn’t at all. He was lovely.

The highlight of the week came on Wednesday when he singled out one of her pictures, leaning over her, so close that she could see the tiny pinpricks of stubble on his skin and smell his aftershave – some woodsy, sophisticated scent that had made her breath shudder in appreciation.

‘This is a great composition, Fiona.’ Her heart had thundered in her chest. He. Knew. Her. Name. ‘I love what you’ve done bringing the background into focus here.’ He laid a hand on her shoulder as he leaned even closer to point to something on the picture. ‘And that little plane of light. This is excellent work.’ She swallowed and turned her head, meeting his eyes, and she saw them suddenly flare. A hot sweat seared through her. He felt it too.

He smiled at her. ‘Very good work, Fiona.’ And then as if nothing had happened, he stood up and walked to the next student. But she hadn’t imagined it. Gabriel Burnett liked her.

‘It was the way he looked at me,’ she had said to Evie on the way home that evening.

‘He looks at everyone that way,’ said Evie, who was clearly jealous that Gabe hadn’t singled her work out. ‘It’s a bit cheesy to be honest.’

She didn’t agree; when he talked to her, she really felt like he knew her and understood her.

Fiona shuddered at the vivid memories and Setsuko turned her gentle doe eyes towards her.

‘I kissed him,’ Fiona announced rather baldly.

Setsuko raised one delicately arched eyebrow in silent query.

‘Gabe Burnett. When I was eighteen. He was my teacher.’ She let out