The Little Teashop in Tokyo by Julie Caplin Page 0,38

stood, indicating the day was over.

Chapter 9

‘How was the Skytree?’ asked Setsuko with one of her gentle smiles when Fiona returned late in the afternoon. She was seated at the table in the centre of the room, her dainty figure coiled around a seat and her legs tucked underneath. ‘And where is Gabriel san?’

‘He had things to do,’ said Fiona flatly, following Setsuko’s beckoning to take a seat at the table, immediately grateful for the lovely warmth. ‘It was very … interesting.’ There was something about the calm, serenity of Setsuko that encouraged her to tell the truth rather than offer the expected conventional tourist praise. ‘Busy.’

‘Hmph,’ said Haruka, making no pains to hide her disapproval as she bustled in, laden down with a large tray. Fiona wasn’t sure if the derisive snort was aimed at the tower or at Gabe. Setsuko jumped up and tried to take it from her mother who responded with a harsh clicking of her tongue and said something in Japanese. Giving her daughter a tart look and whirling out of reach, she placed it on the kotatsu table.

‘And did you take some photos?’ asked Setsuko, rearranging herself at the table as if the exchange with her mother hadn’t happened.

‘Some,’ said Fiona, sensing, despite the placid enquiry, more than polite interest from Setsuko. ‘Would you like to see?’ At least someone was interested in her work. Her fingers clenched under the table, the only indication she allowed herself of how annoyed she was with Gabe.

The other woman nodded and while Haruka arranged the tea things to her satisfaction, Fiona showed her the pictures she’d taken.

‘Better places to go,’ said Haruka as she poured the tea. She smiled at the framed photo Fiona had taken of her, Setsuko and Mayu under the cherry blossom. Fiona had decided to keep the picture of her and Setsuko under wraps for the time being. She hoped they would be happy for her to exhibit it.

Setsuko hid a smile. ‘My mother doesn’t approve of the modern eyesores in Tokyo.’

‘Where is the grace and beauty in a big modern tower? The wabi sabi? There is no dignity, no humility in this. It is all man-made.’

Haruka laid a warm hand on hers. ‘Come, drink tea, and I will tell you much more about nature and Japanese culture.’

Haruka took her time fussing with the delicate porcelain cups until they were arranged to her satisfaction before pouring the very pale-green-tinged tea. ‘This is genmaicha.’ She pushed one of the steaming tea cups towards Fiona, with a dip of her head towards her daughter.

‘Genmaicha tea is a blend of sencha green tea with roasted rice and popcorn,’ explained Setsuko with a wry smile. ‘It is also known as peasant’s tea because in the old days, rice was added to make the green tea go further.’

‘Hmph,’ sniffed Haruka. ‘It has a good flavour and has many health benefits. Good for you and’—she dipped her head and inhaled the fragrance—‘for a foreigner is a good tea. It is mild in flavour and not too intense.’

They all sipped the tea, Fiona copying the way the other two women clasped the porcelain bowls between both hands. She felt the clean freshness of the flavour as the hot liquid slipped down her throat. There was a soothing quiet as all three women savoured their tea, and the comforting warmth of the china clasped between her hands made her feel grounded and somehow connected to the other two women.

They sat in peaceful silence for ten minutes and Fiona let the cleansing tea wash away the ups and downs of the day, although disappointment and frustration sat heavy on her shoulders. Gabe just didn’t seem to understand how important this exhibition was.

Then Haruka sat up abruptly. ‘Wabi Sabi.’ With that she rose from the table, said something in Japanese to Setsuko, and disappeared through the shoji doors.

‘She’d like to take you to the garden.’ Setsuko’s face filled with fond affection. ‘She’s very proud of her gardens. When we first came here from America, there was nothing and she made the garden herself. I think it was hard for her at first there because it was so different, and although she adapted, when she came back she embraced the things she’d really missed, like the tea and nature.’

Dressed warmly in a borrowed, padded down coat, Fiona followed Setsuko downstairs and through the teashop to a wooden veranda in dark wood running the whole way across the back of the building. With the grace