Milton zipped up the bag. “I’d better,” he said. He got to his feet. “Let me know whether your husband can help.”

“I’ll call him now,” she said.

52

Milton found that the villa was empty when he returned and, for a moment, he wondered whether Sakura had decided that she would try to deal with the mess she was in by herself. That would have been a bad idea, just as it was when she had tried to flee before. He left the villa and made his way down toward the restaurant where, to his relief, he found her on a lounger in front of the pool.

“Feeling better?”

“I slept all morning,” she said. “Feel almost normal. Thanks. Where have you been?”

“Victoria and I had some business. It’s all done now.” Milton sat down on the edge of the lounger next to hers. “There’s been some progress. Victoria thinks she might be able to get us onto a boat to Japan.”

“Really?”

“Her husband’s brother works at the docks. She thinks he might be able to get us onto a ship.”

“We wouldn’t be noticed?”

“I’d be very surprised if anyone was looking for us at the docks.”

She took off her sunglasses. “What do we do when we get there? I need to apologise, right? Figure out a way to say sorry for what’s happened.”

“That isn’t going to work,” Milton said. “And, even if it did, what do you think they’ll get you to do afterwards? They’ll put you back to work.”

“But not in Bali,” she said. “They wouldn’t risk sending me back here.”

“Okay, then. Somewhere else. Somewhere you haven’t been to before, where you have no experience and no friends. Where—if you get into trouble like this time—you won’t have anyone to look out for you. I don’t know, Sakura—the status quo doesn’t sound like the best idea I’ve ever heard.”

She showed a flush of irritation. “It must be nice to be able to make these pronouncements without having anything on the line,” she hissed. “Listen to yourself. I don’t know—maybe try to put yourself in my shoes for once. They have my son.”

He held her eye, undisturbed by her shortness. “I know they do. And I agree, you have to do something—but you don’t need to go back to them and apologise.”

“What, then?”

“I told you—you let me handle it.”

Sakura sat up on the lounger and crossed her arms over her chest. Milton could see twin spots of heat rising in her cheeks.

“You’re not coming,” she said, putting as much certainty into her voice as she could.

“Okay,” he said.

“‘Okay’?”

Milton eyed her. “Not if you don’t want me to. But what are you going to do when you get there?”

She hesitated. “I’ll see Takashi.”