The Little Teashop in Tokyo by Julie Caplin Page 0,49

rush hour had begun and the subway train they needed to catch for the main line was already rammed. Despite the orderly queue adhering to the white lines on the platform, there was a territorial rush and push when the train pulled into the station and he and Fiona were swept forward into the tightly packed crush. They ended up almost nose to nose in the carriage as she hung onto the pole that was all that separated them. On autopilot, as he always did, his eyes scanned her face, the cool inventory-taking of a portrait photographer identifying the quirks and anomalies that made her face different. He catalogued the light dusting of freckles over her nose and cheekbones, noted that the hairs at her temple were even fairer, one arched eyebrow was infinitesimally higher than the other, and the wide mouth that made her face different became lit up with her smile, when it came, making it even more rewarding.

She looked up sharply and he saw her body stiffen as if she were straining to put distance between them.

‘You okay?’ He mouthed.

Her mobile mouth tightened and she nodded, the tendons in her neck belying her meaning. With deliberate coolness that didn’t fool him, she lifted her chin and gazed beyond him.

Was she embarrassed by their proximity because of what had happened all those years ago? He hated to think that was the case. He gripped the pole tighter and deliberately went back to studying her face. That mouth drew his attention again and he examined the tiny lines at the corners, the little dip under her nose. It crimped tightly closed with displeasure and although she refused acknowledge him, her chin lifted another centimetre higher.

Just then the train jolted in an archetypal cliched moment that threw them together, his hands grabbing her waist as she catapulted into him. His face brushed hers and he caught the faint scent of freesia as he tried to steady her.

She recoiled sharply, pulling her face away with a gasp which punched right to his stomach. Now he felt awful. He should have told her before that he recognised her. Although, he was puzzled as to why she was so skittish around him. From what he remembered that kiss had been consensual. In fact, he was sure he’d pulled away first because sense had knocked its way through the haze of desire, reminding him that as her teacher his behaviour was totally inappropriate.

A crowded train carriage was probably not the place to have that conversation though. He’d have to wait until she came to the studio that evening to go through the day’s pictures.

Chapter 11

She really wanted to see how the pictures of the little boy at Meji had come out and Gabe had said to come over any time before dinner – he was invited to Haruka’s that evening – so she was taking him at his word. He’d given her a few searching looks on the train, probably because she’d overreacted. For some bizarre reason, being in such close proximity had stirred her up and the urge to kiss him had resurrected itself with alarming urgency. The thought of him seeing that while he was so intently studying her face had been terrifying. She really ought to come clean, make a joke of it. Ha, ha, isn’t it funny we’ve ended up working together. What a small world.

The main light of the studio was off but she could see the glow of light in the other room. It lit the shadowed figure of Gabe standing in front of the picture of Yumi. She paused and unanticipated pity swelled in her chest at the sight of the disconsolate figure that he posed. One side of his face was illuminated by the sliver of light that came through the doors and she could see the slash of his mouth, grim and brooding. With his hunched shoulders, hands stuffed in his pockets, he seemed a little lost. The dejected posture made her stop rather than disturb him. If she’d had her camera and it wasn’t such an invasion of privacy, it would have made a perfect shot. A picture of demoralised solitude.

Carefully and quietly she backed down the stairs, her palms sweaty. She’d geared herself up for this. For a moment she stood at the bottom of the stairs waiting for her pulse to regain its equilibrium and then she took a breath. She needed to be brave; it was past time to put this