The Little Teashop in Tokyo by Julie Caplin Page 0,81

Life was ephemeral and there was beauty in that transience, as Haruka had taught her.

She tilted her head, stretching out the knot at the back of her neck. In for a penny, in for a pound. Being in Japan, being with Gabe. This was a once-in-a-lifetime experience. She didn’t expect him to fall in love with her or anything and she was going in with her eyes wide open. After this week, she’d probably never see him again. If she went in prepared, he was hardly going to break her heart, was he?

***

The paths and steps, all three hundred and ninety-eight of them on the way up to the Chureito Pagoda, wound through cherry blossom just coming into bud and their perfume filled the air which was some distraction from the ache in her thighs … and in other places. Every now and then nerves would start jangling at the thought of later. It was a relief to be outside in the fresh air even if Gabe did keep taking her hand and rubbing his thumb over hers.

‘That’s some climb,’ said Gabe as they stopped in front of the pagoda. Around them, birdsong filled the spring air.

‘But worth it.’ She must have taken nearly fifty photos on the walk up here. It was the archetypal view of Mount Fuji through the cherry blossoms and the clear blue sky dappled with a few picturesquely pure white clouds was absolutely perfect. There were a dozen pictures she could use, although none of them were particularly original. She’d snapped a sneaky one of him, arms aloft as he shucked out of his sweater. It was a sudden instinct spurred on by the thought that in another week she would be back at home and this might be all she had to remember him by.

She turned to take in the five-tiered pagoda painted in red with its green tiled roofs tilted up at north, south, east, and west. It was like an elaborate Christmas decoration and the bells on each corner tinkled rhythmically in the wind. ‘Isn’t it pretty?’

Gabe wrinkled his nose.

‘Come on. It’s beautiful.’

‘Very Japanese.’

‘That’s why I’m here. Look at those bells, how cute are they? And the spire on the top.’

‘Hmm.’

She nudged him with her arm. ‘Admit it, it’s beautiful up here. I’m not moving until you do.’

A wry smile twisted his lips and he leaned forward and tugged at her plait. ‘You should have this loose; it would be beautiful in this sunshine. The light picks up all the nuances of the colours: amber, gold, umber, ochre, sienna.’

‘There speaks a photographer,’ she said batting his hand away. ‘And it would be full of tangles in no time.’ Despite her pragmatism, she couldn’t help a little sigh inside at the words.

‘Want some water?’ He unscrewed the cap and handed it to her. When she dribbled, before she could swipe away the cool track of water, he’d lifted his thumb and wiped the drip upwards to her mouth, his thumb grazing her lips, holding her gaze the whole time. She felt the heat gather again and pushed his hand away. Was he doing this on purpose? The constant small touches? Spontaneous combustion was definitely an option if he kept this up. Deliberately, she wiped her mouth with a firm hand to remove his lingering touch.

‘Come on, let’s go up to the top.’

‘Yes, boss,’ he teased, taking her hand again and slowing her down by pulling her against him and sneaking another kiss.

With unaccustomed boldness, she lifted her chin and turned to him. ‘What’s changed?’

‘The Haruka effect I think. And you. At the tea ceremony I realised I’ve been treading water for too long and being with you has made me remember why I love photography. It’s like I’ve woken up and life is worth living again. I’ve been a self-pitying bastard for too long. That answer the question?’

She tilted her head to one side considering him. ‘It’ll do.’

At the top there was a magnificent photo opportunity of both the pagoda and the mountain which acted as a bit of a distraction but she was very aware that Gabe was never far from her side as she took lots of shots. A great many of them were simply an excuse to try and keep her mind on the job and not on what might happen tonight. Despite the plethora of pictures of Mount Fuji’s snow-capped top resplendent in a clear blue sky with one picturesque white puff of cloud floating on the horizon beyond,