The Little Teashop in Tokyo by Julie Caplin Page 0,31

a Canon. I find it’s better for still life but this is good for outdoor work. Landscapes and the like.’

‘You don’t like landscapes?’

‘Not my bag. I find there’s too much tweaking, making the sky bluer, the grass greener. It’s not real. It feels like people are cheating. It’s not true to the image.’

Fiona tilted her head as if considering his words, her mouth twisting slightly to one side. He could almost see her running through the concept and turning it over in her head to examine the different permutations. It had been a long time since anyone had paid this much attention to what he said. There was a lot of nodding and yessing but now he’d reached a certain level of success, there were very few people that actually ever challenged or thought about what he said. When he’d taught many years ago, students had been keen to discuss and dissect his ideas and views; it had been refreshing being surrounded by all that youthful enthusiasm. Fiona was like that, he realised, although she had the sort of maturity that made her think carefully before she spoke. He watched her with unexpected anticipation as to what her verdict would be.

‘I think you’re right. I was at Borderless yesterday, the digital lab, with Mayu.’

‘Ah, the enfant terrible,’ he said with a wry smile. Mayu was an endless source of fun and entertainment, so steadfast in her rebellion, so sure she was doing things differently and challenging the world but also just like every other teenager the world over.

‘She’s fun.’

‘She certainly is,’ he agreed. ‘What did you think of the place?’

‘Fascinating and a bit mind blowing. Clever, and I’m glad I went but it’s not really my bag. A bit too show-offy and look-at-me.’

He raised an eyebrow.

‘What?’ she asked, her tone a shade defensive.

‘That’s exactly what I think about the place. I prefer understated.’

‘Oh.’ Her face resumed its gravity.

‘You were going to say something?’ For once he was interested. ‘About Borderless?’

‘No, it was a thought I had there. You were talking about landscapes being doctored and while I was at Borderless, everyone was desperately trying to take pictures rather than live in the moment. It made me think that the perfect photograph should be the capture of a moment.’ She frowned. ‘Does that sound pretentious?’

‘No,’ he stepped back, unnerved by how closely her words echoed his own philosophy, and again how long it had been since he’d consciously thought about this sort of thing. ‘No, not all.

‘Did you capture many moments yesterday?’

Her face turned gloomy and she sighed, her cheeks puffing out. ‘No, turns out I’m not that inspired by cherry blossom.’

He let out a gasp and a theatrical clutch at his throat. ‘Sacrilege. Don’t let Haruka hear you say that.’

She batted his arm, suddenly relaxing. ‘I loved the blossom, it was beautiful. The park was lovely but … I don’t know. I took loads of photos but nothing I’m really proud of. There was one … possibly.’ She lifted her shoulders in a defeated shrug.

Now it was Gabe’s turn to tilt his head and study her. He’d heard plenty of students and fellow photographers declaring with false modesty that their work wasn’t very good, wanting someone to soothe their ego and tell them that on the contrary it was excellent, but Fiona’s honesty resonated in her words.

‘Well let’s take a look and let me be the judge.’

With sure, steady fingers Fiona removed the SD card from her camera but then he saw her stiffen, seeming awkward as she held it out to him, as if she didn’t want to touch him.

‘Let’s go through them,’ he said, resigning himself to a couple of hours of sheer boredom.

‘They’re really not very good,’ she said.

He gave her a narrow-eyed stare and his best teacher frown. ‘Perhaps you’ll be good enough to let me be the judge of that.’

She lapsed into silence, fidgeting with her hands in her lap and he immediately felt like an overbearing twat. He hadn’t needed to do that.

‘And beauty is in the eye of the beholder,’ he added.

He scanned through the shots, making a note of the numbers of some of them but he could see that they were just pictures of cherry blossom. Well enough executed if you liked that sort of thing, which he absolutely didn’t. Dull. Dull. Dull.

‘Make a note of the ones you like,’ he said, his mind wandering elsewhere. Pulling himself together, he invited her to share the screen and yanked a pen out