Earlier that morning, Jack had managed to persuade Akiko to swap her kimono for English clothes in order that their appearance didn’t attract so much attention. While the authorities might think they were all drowned, they still needed to keep a low profile. Courtesy of a shopping trip made by Rose, Akiko was now dressed in a figure-hugging bodice, billowing petticoat and wooden-soled shoes. Yori had kept to his simple saffron robes, and still carried his shakujō, but he had left the distinctive straw-bowl monk’s hat behind at the inn. In the theatre setting, barely anyone gave them a second glance.

Rose called over her shoulder at Akiko, ‘Sorry, did I tie your bodice a little tight? It’s the fashion here.’

Akiko tried to adjust the lacings. ‘But how am I even supposed to fight in this?’ she complained. ‘My legs are lost under two layers of petticoats!’

‘You’ll soon get used to the fashion,’ Jack assured her. He thought back to the first time he’d worn a kimono and how disconcertingly draughty that had been for him! Now he was clothed like an Englishman again: cambric shirt, velvet doublet and damask breeches, along with his new pair of black leather boots. At first it felt odd to be dressed in such a manner after so many years in the attire of a samurai. But it was strangely familiar too, like slipping on a pair of old shoes. ‘Anyhow,’ he added, ‘now we’re presumed drowned, I hope we won’t be getting into any more fights.’

Akiko cast him a doubtful look; whether that was to do with her dress or the likelihood of another fight, Jack couldn’t tell. But he was determined to avoid any further confrontations. Now they had a solid lead to follow, his only priority was finding his sister and he wanted nothing to get in their way.

‘Keep an eye out for a red ostrich feather,’ said Jack, his eyes sweeping the sea of elaborate hats and headdresses. Everyone seemed out to impress. There were hats made of silk, velvet, fur and taffeta, and hatbands of almost every colour, from green to blue, and from purple to gold. Some were jewelled, others embroidered; some wide-brimmed, many high-crowned. Most were adorned with eye-catching plumes, plucked from the tails of pheasants, herons, guinea fowl or some other wild bird. But there didn’t appear to be a single ostrich feather in sight.