‘I-I-I’m sorry,’ stuttered Yori, bowing his head. ‘I did try, but I was blocked by the crowd. So I thought it better to find you instead.’

‘You did the right thing, Yori,’ said Akiko, with a reproachful look at Jack for his outburst. ‘She can’t be too far away. Come on!’

With a rushed apology, Jack headed down the centre of Bridge Street. Akiko and Yori took the left side, Rose the right. Jack felt terrible for snapping at Yori, but his exasperation at being so close to finding his sister yet so –

A flash of blue cloth caught his eye. Halfway down the street, beside a fruit stall, a young woman with curls of blonde hair was inspecting a basket of red apples.

There she is!

Jack could scarcely breathe. His heart pounding, he hesitantly approached from behind. ‘Jess?’ he asked softly.

The young woman turned round and smiled. Her locks of blonde hair, like spun gold, framed her pretty face, and her pale blue eyes gazed back at him with kindness and enquiry. ‘Sorry, do I know you?’ she said.

Jack stared at her, unable to believe what he saw before him. The girl did indeed look like his sister. But it wasn’t Jess.

Compared to the portrait in the locket, her eyes were a shade too light. Her nose a fraction too wide. Her lips a touch too thin. But her gaze was what settled the matter. On a deep, instinctive level, Jack didn’t feel any sibling connection with this young woman. They were total strangers. Their souls were unrelated.

With a sorrowful shake of his head, he backed away. ‘I’m afraid not, madam. My apologies …’

Disappointment hit him hard. The rapid see-sawing of his emotions plunged him sharply into despair. Letting the crowd swallow him up, Jack felt more alone than he had since that first year in Japan. He was an island in an ocean of strangers, not one of whom was Jess. He’d sailed so far – both in miles and in life – in the hope of being reunited with her. Yet the port he’d plotted his ship for seemed cruelly elusive. He realized now that he might never find her, that Jess was probably lost to him – and possibly forever.

Slumped on a bench outside the bustling Greyhound Inn, Jack numbly watched the flow of people passing by on the High Street. So many faces. So many strangers. None of them Jess. After a fourth fruitless sweep through the market, they’d abandoned their search and sought out a tavern for a late but much-needed breakfast.

‘Are you certain that girl wasn’t Jess?’ asked Yori. ‘I mean, she looked exactly like the portrait. Seven years is a long time, and people change. Is there a chance you could be mistaken?’