The Little Teashop in Tokyo

by Julie Caplin

  Dealing with publicists and their neurotic clients was enough to wind anyone up and Gabe had just finished the last phone call of the day. Despite being a good size, this hotel room felt small and claustrophobic and he was about ready to punch someone. He’d left himself ten minutes to shower which he desperately needed to wash away some of the frustration. Why did publicists think that bloody hotel rooms or suites were the only place for a photo shoot? Didn’t anyone want originality these days? He’d spent the last half hour trying to persuade the PR girl at the studios that were producing the umpteenth version of Wolverine that a shoot at London Zoo would make a dramatic backdrop. It wasn’t as if he were proposing that the sodding actor got into the lion enclosure or posed with a tiger.

  All the lovely anticipation that had built up over a morning of fresh air and mountain views had been wiped away and now he was irritable and cross. Hardly fair on Fiona. He paused, picturing her earlier today. She was lovely and she didn’t deserve him in a cranky mood. In fact, she didn’t deserve him full stop. Far too lovely, innocent and full of life. She deserved someone decent who still saw things through rosy lenses.

  And he ought to be taking her to a nice restaurant, wining and dining her in style, but he was sick of those kinds of places. Of polite conversation and careful manners. Dinner with Yumi at Kikunoi had been dull, if he was honest. The food had been divine, no denying that. It was a fabulous restaurant. But it hadn’t been fun. It had been grown up and stilted. Well mannered. Tonight he wanted the loud, raucousness of an izakaya – loud music, beer, and small bites. Casual and informal. In fact, he couldn’t imagine Fiona in a posh restaurant. He mentally reviewed what he knew of her and what he’d observed of her – which was rather a lot, he realised –over the last ten days. Taking her to a restaurant like that would make her awkward and uncomfortable; he’d seen the way she hunkered down into herself sometimes when she wasn’t sure about things or stood on one leg abstractedly rubbing the other behind it when she was a little lost or vulnerable. Or lifted her chin when she was being brave, which was more often than not. In fact, he realised, there were so many things he’d noticed about her, almost as if he’d been cataloguing her with the numerous photos he’d managed to take of her when she wasn’t aware.

  Suddenly he was keen to get going, to see Fiona. He smiled at himself in the mirror. Fiona. Oh, God, he looked positively goofy. Thinking about her seemed to have miraculously cleared his bad mood and turned him into a lovesick idiot. He glared at himself and picked up his card key. Lovesick idiot indeed. Men his age did not get lovesick, although the jury was probably out as to whether he was an idiot. Haruka often told him he was.

  He knocked on Fiona’s door with a pleasant buzz of anticipation. He was looking forward to spending the evening with her … bloody hell! His heart almost leapt out of his mouth when the door opened. The golden hair rippled down over her shoulders and her blue eyes popped, her pink lips mysteriously plumped. She was gorgeous, an earthy sex goddess rolled into one.

  And like an idiot – see, Haruka was right – all he could do was stare at her as if he’d swallowed his tongue, which he damn well nearly had done.

  ‘You l-look …’ he swallowed.

  She smiled. ‘Thank you.’

  He was truly grateful that she simply pulled her door to and fell into step beside him because he had as much aplomb as a sixteen-year-old on his first date.

  By the time they reached the lift he’d recovered a little. No, he hadn’t. All he’d managed to do was pick up a skein of golden hair and rub its softness between his fingers, inhaling the apple-scented shampoo.

  He took a deep breath and caught her smiling at her reflection in the mirror, both bemused and amused. There was no doubt about it; he must seem like a complete idiot. He rolled his eyes.

  ‘Sorry, my usual sang froid has left the building. I like to think I’m a bit smoother than this but … you’re gorgeous. I like your hair down. It kind of took my breath away back there.’

  She laughed. ‘It did … I thought you were in pain at first.’

  Gabe groaned and slapped his forehead. ‘Great, spare me my ego, why don’t you? You’re not supposed to tell me that.’

  ‘Sorry,’ her eyes sparkled with mischief and he wanted to kiss her. Since when had his heart taken up junior acrobatics?

  ‘You will be, young lady. Teasing your olders and betters.’

  ‘Sorry, old man.’

  ‘Less of the old,’ he growled and tugged at her hair. The lift stopped and a middle-aged Japanese couple stepped in. Gabe moved closer to Fiona to make room, his hand sliding up the inside of her wrist to let her know he was there. For some reason, he couldn’t stop touching her or wanting to be near enough to smell that fresh apple scent. This is what happened, he told himself sternly, when you let yourself be led by less intelligent parts of your body.

  ***

  Thankfully although the izakaya was buzzing when they arrived they managed to snag two seats opposite each other on the end of a crowded bench. He could finally stop thinking indecent thoughts about unpeeling Fiona out of the jumpsuit, the buttons of which were extremely tempting, as was the hint of blue lace underneath it.

  ‘I like it here,’ said Fiona, taking a sip of the Sapporo he’d fought his way through the bar to buy. The place was certainly lively and exactly what the doctor ordered. ‘Reminds me of a cross between a Wagamama and a London pub.’

  Gabe took a long cooling slug of the cold beer and it hit the spot. He let out a satisfied sigh and Fiona grinned at him.

  ‘Difficult afternoon?’ she asked.

  For a moment he stared at her, impressed by her intuition.

  ‘How did you guess?’

  ‘You’re all frowny. This afternoon when we were at the lookout spot at the pagoda, you seemed so much lighter.’

  ‘Just boring conversations on the phone with unenlightened people who have no artistic vision.’

  She gave him a sympathetic smile. ‘I guess when they’re paying, they get to call the shots.’

  ‘Yes, but why pay for the best and not listen to advice? Pay for monkeys, get monkeys. Everyone’s so goddamned entitled these days.’

  ‘At least they’re paying you and you have work. I’m hoping I might get some work as a result of the exhibition but it’s a long shot. I’ll still be unknown.’

  ‘Basically, “Gabe stop moaning, you don’t know you’re born”.’

  Fiona slapped a hand over her mouth and he laughed at her horror-struck face.

  ‘I didn’t mean that at all.’

  ‘I know,’ he said, ‘I was teasing but you …’ He shook his head. ‘You do have a point. I should suck it up.’

  She dragged a fingertip through the condensation on her glass focusing all her attention on the golden liquid.

  ‘You have a delightful way of making me reassess things. Making me realise what a dick I am sometimes.’

  ‘I don’t mean to,’ she said with widened eyes.

  He laughed again. ‘I know, that makes it doubly refreshing.’

  ‘You keep using those words,’ she said, frowning and sticking her chin up in that familiar pose, ‘refreshing, breath of fresh air … as if I’m some country bumpkin.’

  ‘Sorry. I don’t mean it like that. You have an amazing habit of making me look at things differently. In a good way. No one’s challenged me in a long time.’ He shot her a rueful smile. ‘I’ve been like a spoiled brat … a bit too used to getting my own way all the time. Or being able to throw my weight around.’ Both he and the publicist this afternoon had known that if he really wanted to get the actor to the zoo he could have won that battle but he hadn’t cared enough one way or another to really push for it.

  ‘I’ll take that.’ She gave him a sunny smile, as usual taking his words at face value. He was loathe to say it out loud again but she was so easy to be with, uncomplicated and honest.

  ‘What do you fancy eating?’ He’d picked up a couple of English menus from the bar.r />
  They debated the pros and cons of varying dishes as it was tapas and they’d be sharing.

  ‘That sounds lovely and I know what it is,’ said Fiona pointing to the teriyaki beef. ‘And I’ve got to have the tempura-battered prawns. The ones in Tokyo were so amazing.’

  It was nice to be with someone who was enthusiastic about food and wanted to try new things. Japanese food had stopped being a novelty a long time ago but he would always remember his first taste of crisp tempura batter and the sensation of it melting on his tongue, and now he’d always remember taking Fiona to the same place.

  ‘And I’m tempted by the yakitori skewers of chicken, even though I have no idea what yakitori is or what yuzu mayonnaise will taste like.’

  ‘Yakitori is a sweet, salty sauce, with soy sauce, sugar, ginger and mirin, which is a tangy rice wine. It’s absolutely delicious.’

  ‘I’m sold. And yuzu?’

  ‘Yuzu is a citrus fruit. The flavour’s unique. Some say a cross between a grapefruit and a lime.’

  ‘Oh yes. Now I remember. It’s one of those trendy flavours you see on cookery programmes like Bake Off and Masterchef.’

  ‘I can’t say I watch either.’

  ‘You haven’t watched Bake Off?’ Fiona shook her head. ‘You haven’t lived.’

  ‘Too busy, I’m afraid. When I’m in London, I’m usually there for work.’

  He caught the eye of one of the busy waitresses and placed their order with Fiona exclaiming suddenly that they just had to have some ramen and telling him all about the meal she’d had in Kyoto. He smiled at her shining enthusiasm, recalling that he’d been in one of the finest restaurants in the city and had barely enjoyed a single mouthful.

  ‘Do you go to London often?’ asked Fiona, suddenly shy.

  ‘I still have a flat there. My brother uses it quite a lot. He keeps an eye on it for me.’

  ‘I didn’t know you had a brother.’

  ‘Fraser. He’s a lot younger than me. I tease him and my mum that he was an after-thought. He’s a good guy. He’s been out to see me a couple of times. Haruka adores him.’ His smile dimmed.

  ‘She adores you,’ said Fiona.

  ‘She thinks Fraser is more discerning.’

  ‘Why?’ Fiona frowned, intuitive as ever, scenting a story, perhaps because he was giving enough away to want to tell it.

  ‘He doesn’t like Yumi.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘Doesn’t understand that we’re friends. He doesn’t approve of us staying in touch. He thinks I’m … well, I’m not. We’re friends.’

  Fiona nodded and in her usual quiet way didn’t say anything, just absorbed the information.

  ‘Is everything okay with your brother now?’

  How did she do that? Home in on the nub of the matter straight away?

  ‘He pissed me off a bit but we’re still speaking. I’d say we’re at the stage of warily circling round each other at the moment.’

  ‘I always wanted a brother. Hoped he’d have been my champion at school. Seen off the mean girls.’ She stared away over his shoulder for a moment before giving him a half-hearted smile.

  He reached over and put a hand on her wrist, stroking the soft skin on her inner arm, wanting to take away the pain of the memories. ‘I’m in London quite often. Perhaps we could meet up.’

  At that moment he was interrupted by a waitress bringing plates and white packets of chopsticks to place on the table before them.

  ‘I’d like to come to your exhibition.’

  ‘You’ll have seen it all before.’

  ‘That’s not the same … and you know it. There’ll be an official opening. It’ll be a big deal for you.’

  She pulled a face. ‘Now you’re making me nervous.’

  ‘The Japanese Centre will want to have some kind of launch event.’

  ‘Oh God. Really?’

  He laughed. ‘They want to get something out of this. No such thing as a free lunch or a free trip to Japan.’

  ‘I know but … well I thought it would be.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘Who am I kidding? My friend, Avril, remember I told you about her? Well, I know she’s going to make a big thing of it. If she doesn’t turn up with a film crew she’ll get one of her friends to feature it in a newspaper or magazine or something.’

  ‘Sounds like a good sort of friend to have.’

  ‘Mmm,’ said Fiona and looked down at her clothes. ‘She is. I shouldn’t complain. Most people probably think she’s a bit flighty and spoiled. She’s very glamorous and always immaculate but she’s incredibly kind. If she can help she always will. She’s very loyal.’

  Gabe smiled.

  ‘What?’

  ‘I suspect you are too. I think Fiona Hanning, you would be a very good friend to have.’

  ‘It’s not hard.’

  He raised an eyebrow. He didn’t want to think too hard about friendship and what it entailed. The direction of those thoughts was not something he had much faith in.

  Right on cue, Fiona blushed and it made him forget all his earlier resolutions.

  ***

  The first dish arrived, steaming hot and even in the less formal surroundings, still with the usual impeccable presentation on beautiful small blue and white oval dishes.

  ‘Oh God, I’m still rubbish with chopsticks,’ said Fiona, eying the plump pink prawns with their fine coating of crisp batter hungrily.

  ‘Here,’ Gabe took pity on her, wrestled his chopsticks out of their wrapping and picked up a prawn, lifting it to her lips and offering it to her. Like a baby bird she opened her mouth and took a small crisp bite. He watched her and then wished he hadn’t.

  ‘Mmm, these prawns are to die for,’ said Fiona with a throaty groan, closing her eyes in a blissed-out way that was probably unconscious but did serious damage to his self-control.

  ‘Mmm,’ he muttered, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. Forget sleeves, Fiona had a lovely habit of wearing her emotions right there on her face and, cliché or not, it was a refreshing change.

  ‘Here, you try,’ she said, picking up one of the tempura prawns with her fingers and grazing his lips as she held it up to his mouth. She watched him wide-eyed and innocent, waiting for his response. Her touch and that guileless gaze sent a tremor of awareness through his body. It was far too much like temptation and he couldn’t help himself. He licked the knuckle of her thumb, grazing it quickly with his teeth before he bit into the prawn. It was worth it to see her eyes widen and hear her gasp as she snatched back her hand. He grinned at her. ‘Delicious.’

  It was a shame the waitress arrived at that moment with the yakitori and the glossy beef teriyaki.

  ‘Thank you,’ said Fiona to the waitress as if she’d personally sailed in to rescue her.

  The waitress thanked her back.

  ‘Try the chicken,’ Fiona said, almost poking him in the face with the skewer.

  He closed his hand over hers to steady the skewer and smiled at her.

  ‘Will you stop doing that,’ she said.

  ‘Doing what?’

  ‘You know.’

  Her fierce stare made him feel a touch of chagrin.

  ‘Sorry.’ He let go of her hand.

  ‘It’s just, I’m nervous enough as it is.’

  ‘Shit, Fi. I don’t want to make you feel nervous. There’s no pressure here.’

  ‘I know, but you’re all … sophisticated and used to playing games and I’m just me.’

  ‘And just you … is’—he took in her worried blue eyes, the golden curtain of hair, and the hint of pale skin at her neck and throat—‘is absolutely perfect.’

  ‘Oh,’ she said, even more flustered. ‘Maybe we should … go back to the hotel and …’

  ‘Fiona Hanning. Whatever happened to romance? I’m trying to seduce you and you want to go straight back to the hotel and get it over with.’ He sent her a look of mock outrage and she winced. Then she slapped her hand over her mouth and ducked her head, hiding behind the screen o
f her hair. Her body shook slightly and at first he thought he’d made her cry.

  ‘Hey Fi. I’m sorry.’

  She glanced up from underneath her lashes and instead of tears, he saw blue eyes brimming with mirth. And then a giggle burst out and another.

  ‘I’m s-sorry,’ she laughed again. ‘I’m rubbish at this.’

  ‘I thought you were doing fine. Tell me more about your writing.’

  They chatted easily and ordered another beer, and for the first time in a long time Gabe felt completely at ease.

  Chapter 21

  The spring night was decidedly chilly when they left the bar but the clear sky, lit by a half moon, gave Mount Fuji a ghostly air, a few silvery wisps of clouds surrounding the snow-capped peak.

  ‘Nice jacket,’ commented Gabe as she slipped her arms into the supple leather.

  ‘Yes, but not very warm,’ said Fiona. ‘Though apparently nicer than my other coat.’

  He laughed. ‘The hairy number.’

  ‘Don’t you start.’

  ‘Sorry.’ He put an arm around her and pulled her close as they began to walk back to the hotel. ‘Who else has been giving you grief about it?’

  ‘Avril, of course. She says it’s like a monkey.’

  ‘I can’t wait to meet her.’ Avril had a point but he decided to keep quiet.

  ‘Hmm, that will be interesting. You’ll meet your match there.’

  ‘And I haven’t here? I’m still banking on you being gentle with me.’

  She gave him a shy nudge with her elbow, a faint smile hovering on her lips, but didn’t say anything as they walked along a brightly light strip of restaurants and bars, all of which were packed with people. Cherry blossom season had brought all the tourists out. It was only half past eight. Still early.

  ‘Want to try another Japanese institution?’

  ‘Like what?’ she asked, suspicion coating the word.

  ‘Karaoke. There’s a bar along here.’ He nodded towards the neon sign. ‘We can have a night cap in there, if you don’t fancy joining in, or we can go back to the hotel bar.’

  He felt Fiona straighten and to his astonishment she said without hesitation. ‘Yes.’

  ‘Yes?’