The Little Teashop in Tokyo

by Julie Caplin

  She studied his face. He genuinely believed what he was saying, and she wondered if he even heard how it sounded.

  Leftovers, she thought. It would always be leftovers with Gabe.

  ‘No, not at all,’ she said with false brightness. What was the point in making a fuss? It would be churlish and fruitless. He wasn’t hers and never would be. ‘If you don’t mind, I’d like to do some work here on the album I want to put together for Haruka and Setsuko.’

  ‘That’s a lovely idea; you can print the pictures off and I have a couple of presentation albums you can have.’ He rose and pulled two from a shelf above his head and laid them on the desk. ‘I always keep a stock of them in, as they’re sometimes useful for presenting client work.’

  ‘Thank you. That’s great.’ She went over to the machine and slipped a sidelong glance at him as she went, sceptical of his absorption with the contents of the screen. ‘Do you want a coffee?’

  ‘Yes, please.’ He pushed his chair over to the other desk and grabbed a notepad. ‘Pen and paper still works best when noting down the image numbers.’

  With a nod she moved towards the kitchenette and caught her foot in the handle of his overnight back which had been dumped on the floor. Something went spinning across the floor. Damn, his phone. Its rapid flight was stopped by the little fridge in the corner.

  ‘Sorry,’ she said, hurrying to retrieve the phone that was now wedged under the fridge, praying she hadn’t broken it.

  ‘What?’ Gabe was still absorbed in copying something down on the notepad and she crossed her fingers. Please don’t let it have broken.

  It hadn’t, which was just as well, because it wasn’t Gabe’s phone.

  As soon as she picked it up, the familiar wallpaper of the opera house in Copenhagen flashed on the screen.

  She looked from the screen to Gabe and back again.

  ‘Gabe?’

  ‘Mmm, you’ve got some cracking shots here.’

  ‘Gabe!’ she said more sharply this time.

  He lifted his head and looked at her properly. She held up the phone, her brain clumsily trying to compute the facts. Her phone was in Gabe’s bag. Right on the top. He must have known it was here. All the time.

  A range of expressions flitted across his face: trapped, caught out, and guilty before settling on consternation.

  ‘This is my phone.’

  ‘Uh-huh,’ he said and she could see his Adam’s apple dipping. ‘Your phone.’

  ‘What was it doing in your bag?’

  He grimaced and stood up. As he took a few steps towards her, she held it out in front of her like a sword, albeit a very feeble and pathetic sword, warning him to keep his distance, but he kept coming.

  She shook her head. ‘No, stay there.’

  He sighed and held up his hands.

  She scowled at him. Did he really think his easy surrender was going to get him out of this?

  ‘I’m sorry but I did it for your own good.’

  She raised a scandalised eyebrow, making it clear what she thought of that sorry-arsed line. ‘Own good?’

  ‘Sorry. Now I’ve said that out loud, it sounds a bit dickish.’

  ‘Probably because it’s a lot dickish.’

  ‘I wanted you to have a good time and … not have to worry about your mum every five minutes.’

  She let this sink in amid a mass of fury that was radiating through every cell in her brain. If someone could thermo image it right now, it probably looked like the centre of a volcano before it blew.

  ‘So you … took my phone.’

  He nodded, shoving his hands in his back pockets and leaning back slightly. ‘Yes. But we did have a good time …’ He paused.

  What, he expected her to agree? Her mind clouded by bloody marvellous sex?

  Now he added more tentatively. ‘And you didn’t have to worry about her.’

  Her head was surely going to explode. ‘And you think that’s okay? What if my mum had been seriously ill? What if she needed me?’

  ‘Fi, she could have got hold of you. At any time if it was urgent. You know she could.’

  ‘That’s not the point.’

  ‘Yes, it is. She’s constantly messaging you. You said yourself there’s nothing wrong with her. She manipulates you.’

  ‘Yes.’ Fiona drew herself up with all the disdain she could muster, anger battling with disappointment for dominance. ‘She does. And I handle it. I’m not a child, you know. I’ve been dealing with my mother for years. I know exactly how she operates.’

  She glared at him and saw him flinch. Good. With icy hauteur, she narrowed her eyes and took a step towards him. ‘Did it ever occur to you that my messages to her are reassurance? Her security blanket? A fail safe, like a pressure valve? She knows I’m not going to come running. We’ve been there, done that. She’s a lonely woman who doesn’t have much in her life but me.’

  ‘And maybe you like that,’ he said standing straighter, folding his arms, suddenly combative.

  She stared at him. ‘Pardon?’

  He screwed up his mouth before speaking, giving her a level assessing gaze. ‘We all want to feel needed and essential to someone else’s happiness and wellbeing. I’m just pointing out that perhaps it satisfies something in you. Makes you feel a bit better about yourself. A bit less guilty that you don’t take her illnesses seriously.’

  Outrage took her breath away. ‘What! How dare you? You’re the last one to talk about manipulation. Yumi’s got that leash so tight, one tug and you come running.’

  ‘Don’t bring her into this.’

  ‘Why the hell not? You say I’m manipulated but I’m completely aware of what my mother is up to. I manage it. You, you’re absolutely clueless. And you’re a complete fool. She’s got you dancing to her tune whenever she wants.’

  Gabe’s fists clenched at his sides and she could see she’d really touched a nerve. His jaw jutted out with all the belligerence of a boxer in the ring.

  ‘You’re jealous,’ he spat with a touch of spite. It hit bang on target because it was true and in that moment, she knew if she’d ever had him, she’d lost him now. Gabe would always be tied to Yumi.

  She lifted her chin, determined to be honest because she had absolutely nothing to lose.

  ‘Yes, I am. She’s everything I’m not and you can’t let go of her. You’re in love with the idea of being in love with her. I think you probably always will be.’

  She didn’t take any satisfaction in the aghast expression on his face as the words sank in. Instead she pushed her phone into her pocket and walked out without another word.

  ***

  She didn’t go straight back to Haruka’s. Instead she stalked around the neighbourhood with stiff-legged strides, trying to burn away her fury, going over and over Gabe’s words in her head. He was wrong. He didn’t know anything about her or her mother. And he was the last person to … to say anything. He was still too messed up by Yumi. Well, he deserved her. If he couldn’t see how she used him, that was his problem.

  Finally, when she was convinced she could act normally rather than like a fire-breathing dragon, she found her way back to Haruka’s house, grateful that the Japanese left their doors open and she could slip into her room without having to speak to anyone, although it seemed no one was home. Even so, with burglar-like stealth she crept quietly in and drew the shoji doors closed.

  Her phone had one percent of battery left, so she plugged it in to charge and scanned the messages. Annoyingly, Gabe had been right. Her mother’s messages had ground to a halt once she realised that Fiona wasn’t responding.

  I was so worried but I phoned the emergency number you gave me and I spoke to a very nice lady who told me you’d gone away to an area where there was no phone signal but that it’s very safe in Japan and that I shouldn’t worry. She was very reassuring.

  Thank you, Haruka. Fiona lay down on the mattress and stared up at the ceiling holding her phone in one hand.

  For a moment her fi
nger hovered over the little white conversation box at the bottom of the screen in WhatsApp and then she put her phone down. There was a sense of relief. A burden lifted. She didn’t have to message her mother, not right now. The get-out-of-jail-free card was valid for a little while longer. Who knew, maybe it would do her mother good to survive on her own for a bit. Fiona had been out of touch for two days. Hardly a lifetime. And no, she wasn’t going to think about Gabe’s unkind words, that maybe she liked being needed because that wasn’t true … was it?

  And he was one to talk. Their fling, or whatever you wanted to call it, hadn’t really meant anything to him. A bit of fun. An interlude. The only person he really cared about was Yumi which, yes, did hurt. She’d never expected Gabe to love her but seeing that he was capable of loving someone who so didn’t deserve it, well, that did hurt. It hurt a lot, almost a real physical pain digging in under her ribs with a hollow ache. She clutched her middle, fighting back tears. She’d never stood a chance with Gabe, she always knew that, but having it brought home to her so absolutely made it harder to bear somehow.

  She heard a noise downstairs and straightened up, swiping away a stray tear that had the temerity to fight free.

  Chapter 25

  Setsuko reached up, her pale hand stark against the black matt caddies with their gold calligraphy, and Fiona knew the shot was perfect. Taking a breath, Fiona pressed the button slowly this time, feeling her anger dissipate at the sight of Setsuko’s sure, calm grace.

  Fury and rage had driven her for the first fifteen minutes and she’d been like a whirling ninja firing shots left, right, and centre, greedily sucking up every image that presented itself of the tourists exploring the tiny shop, lifting and pawing at the chawan, cooing and exclaiming over the scents of the teas and their recent tea ceremony experience. To her churning spirit they were like invaders, but now that the tour group had left, the quiet and heavy layers of history and culture began to settle her. Without saying anything, Setsuko made a small pot of tea and put it on a tray with three matcha bowls and came to sit at one of the tables.

  ‘Come, sit.’ She patted the bench beside her.

  Fiona set down her camera and watched as Setsuko poured three jasmine-scented cups of tea and pushed one towards her. The other woman didn’t say anything, just sipped at her tea and waited. Next to her, Fiona was aware of her absolute stillness.

  Fiona swallowed, trying to down the lump that had wedged itself tight in her throat. She stared at one of the paper lanterns hanging from the roof, the long red tassel dancing in the light breeze that stole through the open window.

  Setsuko laid her elegant hand on top of Fiona’s and offered her a sad, gentle smile.

  ‘What happened?’

  Fiona made a small noise, half laugh, half bunged-up snuffle. ‘I fell in love with Gabe again. Stupid, huh?’

  ‘And that does not bring you joy?’

  Like a silent wraith, Haruka appeared and slid onto the bench, sandwiching Fiona against Setsuko. Even though she really didn’t feel like it, it made her smile. Two bodyguards flanking her. Love for both of them blossomed inside her.

  ‘It did but he’s still in love with Yumi.’

  Next to her, Haruka actually growled and it drew another small laugh from Fiona. She tucked her arm through the older woman’s in a gesture that she couldn’t remember ever doing with her own mother. Something about the presence of the older woman soothed and grounded her. Being in the shop made her think more clearly. ‘In England, a famous poet, Tennyson, said, “Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.” Right now I find that difficult to believe.’ She pressed a hand against her breast bone.

  Haruka nodded. ‘Mono no aware. We would translate it as poignancy, the joy of being in love tempered by the loss of that love. The joy of the cherry blossom and the sadness of knowing it will last only a short time.’

  The three of them sat in silence, drinking tea and gazing thoughtfully out of the window at Haruka’s garden. Fiona studied the blossom on the weeping cherries drifting like snowflakes and the tracery of acer leaves dancing on the light breezes. Even though her heart felt heavy in her chest, like a solid lump of stone, she could appreciate the beauty of the garden. There was light after dark, laughter after tears and happiness after sadness. Next to her, she felt the body warmth of both Setsuko and Haruka, tiny indomitable women offering her their support.

  ‘The blossom is falling,’ said Haruka. ‘But we can hold on to the memories.’

  Fiona thought about it and almost smiled. She had memories of Gabe. She should cherish those.

  Haruka patted her hand. ‘Like the cherry blossom, you will love again.’

  ‘I hope so.’

  ‘But if you don’t enter the tiger’s cave you can’t catch its cub.’ Haruka turned and gave her of one her now familiar, impassive stares.

  ‘I think that translates as nothing ventured, nothing gained.’ She gave both women a rueful grimace. ‘I ventured, I gained, but now it’s time to go home.’

  Haruka shook her head. ‘Fall seven times, stand up eight,’ she said fiercely.

  Fiona took in a deep breath. ‘I know my limits but I want to thank you for everything.’

  Gabe was only part of this. She’d always known he was out of her league and if she were honest with herself, he was far more suited to the worldly Yumi and her ilk.

  She didn’t want her memories to be negative ones. ‘My stay has been amazing. I’ve learned so much and there are some things I’ll never forget. Your and Setsuko’s dignity and grace. Your generosity in inviting me into your home. Teaching me about wabi-sabi, kintsugi, the peace of nature and so many other things. I’m ready to go home. To put some of those things into practice. To talk to my mother.’

  ‘She called.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘She’s lonely.’

  ‘I know but I can’t be the only answer to that. We both need to learn to live our own lives.’

  She fumbled for her phone, which she’d tucked inside her pocket. Raising it above her head, she took a selfie of the three of them.

  ‘Where is Gabe now?’

  ‘He’s going in to Tokyo to meet Yumi.’

  ‘Foolish man.’

  Fiona gave her a tight smile. ‘That’s what I told him.’

  ‘You didn’t.’ Setsuko gave her a cartoon-wide stare, while there was an approving smile in Haruka’s warm brown eyes.

  ‘I did. I told him he was a complete fool. He didn’t like it when I told him he was like a dog on a leash and that he was still in love with her and probably always would be.’

  Both women exchanged startled glances. ‘And what did he say to that?’ asked Haruka with great interest.

  ‘I didn’t give him the chance. I walked out.’

  ‘Bravo.’ She clapped her hands. ‘I have been telling him this but does he listen? Maybe this time he will.’

  ‘Well he might do but I’m done with him. I don’t want to see him. I wish I could get an earlier flight.’ Was that running away or bringing her trip to a graceful end?

  ‘That’s a good idea,’ said Haruka, shocking Fiona. ‘If you’d like I can ask Kaito to change the flights; he has a good friend at Japan Travel. You could go tomorrow instead of the day after.’

  ‘Er … um …’ The suggestion took the wind out of her sails for a moment but the more she thought about it, the better that idea was. She’d seen everything she wanted to, taken enough photos to mount ten exhibitions. Things with Gabe, no matter how else she wished it, weren’t going to change and it would be better for a swift amputation. Not seeing him again would make life so much easier. She’d gone into things knowing it was always going to be temporary, so there was no point prolonging things.

  ‘I’d like that.’ She had a good idea of which photos she wanted to enter into the exhibition and she could send them to Kaito from London. She just needed to retrieve her memory card from Gabe’s studio and print off the pictures for Haruka and Set
suko before Gabe got back.

  ***

  When she came back from Gabe’s studio with the two albums clutched under her arms, she felt a sense of triumph. She’d pulled together a lovely selection, a real tribute to their kindness. The first picture in both albums was the one of the two women and their heart-to-heart in Ueno Park, then there were pictures of Haruka in the garden and Setsuko in the teashop as well as the staged shot of the three generations of women. She’d also included pictures of Mayu at the Robot Restaurant but also a more sedate one of a thoughtful young woman gazing up at the cherry blossom.

  On impulse, she went up into the teashop rather than the house, drawn to take a few more pictures, hoping to capture the elusive mystery and magic of the place. There was a clatter as she stepped inside the room and Mayu whirled round clutching one of the caddies to her chest.

  ‘You frightened me,’ she said, ducking to pick up the lid she’d dropped.

  ‘Sorry … I just wanted to take some more …’ She indicated her camera. ‘What are you doing?’

  Mayu’s eyes slid past her and it was almost comical to see the girl’s attempt to find an excuse. ‘Just tidying up, you know.’

  The place was immaculate, as always.

  ‘Can I take a picture of you?’

  The enthusiasm bounced right back. ‘Sure. What do you want?’

  Fiona lifted her shoulders. ‘You suggest something.’

  ‘Me blending tea,’ said Mayu immediately. ‘I’ve watched Mama do it. She knows so much.’

  They set up the shot, Fiona smiling at Mayu’s quick-fire explanations of what she was doing and why. In fact, the shots she took of Mayu preparing were far better than the posed ones at the end but she didn’t tell her that.

  ‘I’ve got some great stuff here, thanks.’

  ‘Cool.’

  ‘I love this place,’ said Fiona, giving it a fond look around. ‘There’s something …’

  ‘There is … but I don’t know what it is,’ the girl agreed before adding dreamily, ‘and one day it will be mine.’