They checked in and made their way up to their room on the fifteenth floor. It was pleasant enough, if a little overpriced; Milton was relaxed about that, happy that it offered them anonymity and a base from which he could plot out their next move.

“I’m going to take a shower,” he said to Sakura. “You should call your father and tell him that you need to see him.”

She looked pained. “Do I have to?”

“You think he won’t want to see you?”

She gazed out of the window and out over the city. “I don’t know.”

“He’s your father,” Milton said. “Yamato’s grandfather. You need to tell him what’s happened.”

“I know. You’re right. It’s just because… it’s because I’m ashamed. He tried to bring me up a certain way and I repaid him by marrying the one man he told me I couldn’t.”

“He told you that you couldn’t do something and you did it anyway? Isn’t that what all daughters do?”

She shrugged.

“He won’t ignore you when he knows what’s happened. Call him. Tell him you need to see him this evening.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll take you there and then I’ll leave you to it.”

“You won’t come in and meet him?”

“The two of you need to speak first. I don’t want to be a distraction.”

“But you will meet him? I’d like you to—and he’ll like you, I’m sure of it.”

“Afterwards,” Milton said. “It’ll be better if it’s just the two of you to begin with.”

73

Katsuro held the binoculars to his eyes and watched as the Fidelio was guided through the mouth of the harbour, a tug negotiating it through the passage to a vacant pier. It was much closer now and he could make out the crewmen gathered on deck. He looked for Sakura, but couldn’t see her. She would be waiting inside and would disembark via the gangplank. There was no way that she would be able to leave the ship without him seeing her.

His phone buzzed in his pocket. He took it out and saw, with a quick jolt of unease, that it was his father.

He accepted the call. “Otōsan?”

“Where are you?”

“Manila.”

“Why?”

“I told you, Father. They took a ship—it is just coming into dock now.”

“And you think Sakura is on board?”

“I do.”

“You are an idiot,” Takashi spat.

“What?”

“She’s not on a ship.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because she’s here.”

“No,” he said. “That can’t be.”

“She just called my brother to arrange a meeting.”

“In Tokyo?”

“‘In Tokyo?’” Takashi repeated, mimicking his confusion. “Yes, you fool, in Tokyo.”

Katsuro wanted to swear, but he bit his tongue. “How?”

“I imagine they flew. She told him that they had just left the airport.”