Page 23 of The Lost Future of Pepperharrow

Mori looked at him hard. ‘You are a traitor, and if you take a photograph of me, I will make you eat it.’

‘Kimono are nice,’ Thaniel protested. He wanted to say, does everyone call her the Baroness.

‘Morris dancers’ costumes are nice,’ Mori said. He turned away to the other room. The dividing wall was only paper and there must have been a bright window on the far side, because Thaniel saw his shadow through the panes. It was hard to tell if it was actually Mori’s own room, or if Suzuki had expressed his disapproval of extraneous foreigners by abandoning him in a guest room. ‘This is why the Americans steam-roll us in treaty agreements; we all look like little dressed-up dolls. Imagine turning up to major international negotiations in ribbons and bells.’

‘Fair. No photos. Photography does steal your soul, doesn’t it?’

‘Without seasoning. Raw silver nitrate and paper.’

Thaniel made himself laugh. He went to the balcony doors.

They led out into a garden. It was small but dense with contorted trees and tiny gravel lanes, and beginning almost right outside the door were cloudy pools that steamed. They were warm even from the doorway. A fox was sitting on the edge of the nearest, studying the glass windows above theirs and evidently waiting for more birds to knock themselves out on the panes. There was already a collection of downy bodies around its paws, and feathers on the window ledges. He heard children’s voices at the far end; Six had found a little boy over that way, a gardener, unless he carried round a spade of his own accord. He looked serious and puzzled, broke into a chesty baby giggle, and then they ran off down one of the steep paths. It was a relief. Thaniel had been worried that all the new things would be too much for her and he’d have to spend the afternoon coaxing her out from under a table.

Mori came back with a kettle. When he turned to set it down on the low table, Katsu was coiled around his arm. Mori put him on the floor, where he hurried off towards the nearest pool. There was a splash as he dived in. A few seconds later he climbed out on the other side and left tentacle-and-wheel tracks on the slate before disappearing into the grass. The fox rushed away.

Everything was incredibly, unrealistically clean. The reed mats were perfect, the paper walls looked brand new, and there was no clutter. Nothing, not even curtains. Just the table, the tea things, and a tall cupboard where Suzuki had explained all the bedding was kept in the daytime. The floor was warm. There must have been hot pipes just underneath. It was wonderful. Thaniel felt like something fleabitten Mori had brought in off the sea shore.

‘They’re for people too,’ Mori said. ‘The onsen. Springs,’ he translated, when Thaniel hesitated.

‘I imagine there’s something complicated you have to do first.’

‘Suzuki’s coming to show you now. I’d go in with you but I just want this tea before I have to get dressed.’ He said it as if he were talking about starting on another long journey.

Suzuki glided back in with towels and a host of other things, soap and razors and combs. There was a whole ritual to it, one Thaniel didn’t like at first, but the process forced his whole mind to slow down. It was too complicated to stray onto thoughts about Mrs Pepperharrow in the background, but straightforward enough not to be difficult.

‘I’m sure we can make you presentable yet,’ Suzuki said. He didn’t look like he thought so.

At the low table, Mori had fallen still. He looked less like he was holding himself upright than resting exactly on the balance of his spine.

‘Now then,’ said Suzuki, ‘the pool nearest to us is the coolest, but I recommend the farthest. There is an excellent view over the bay and it would perhaps be best to make use of it before the other gentlemen arrive for the hunt.’

‘A hunt?’

‘Oh yes,’ he said. ‘Do you ride?’

‘No,’ said Thaniel. He’d never liked horses except to talk to. They were more than clever enough to work out who they didn’t like and find a strategic fence to sling him over.

Suzuki lifted his eyebrows. If Thaniel had said he didn’t know about crockery and usually ate off the floor, he would have pulled the same expression. ‘It is edifying to watch. Of course you’ll attend.’

‘I’ll see,’ said Thaniel, starting to enjoy meeting such a caricature of a person.

Mori was pouring himself another cup of tea, slowly, all his concentration on the iron kettle. Once he had set it down again, he sat holding the cup, very still and breathing the steam. A bloom of women’s laughter came from somewhere above them. Thaniel wondered where Mrs Pepperharrow’s balcony was.

Suzuki shepherded Thaniel outside. The five pools were scattered about among the rocks and under the trellises, which were set just far enough back for most of the falling leaves to miss the water. The last pool was right on the cliff edge. Steps carved into the rock led down into the water, and then to stone benches all the way around so that you could sit looking out over the bay.

The feeling that he was being watched got ten times stronger. It was ridiculous. The steam was so dense that nobody could possibly have seen much of him even from four feet away.

‘I’ll take that for you,’ Suzuki said, and held out his hands for the towel.

‘I’ll keep it.’

Suzuki frowned. ‘You’ll do no such thing, it would be vulgar.’

‘I’ll be vulgar then, thank you.’

Suzuki watched him. ‘Very well. But there are people of quality here. The Prime Minister is here.’ He pointed away beyond the pools, to the next level along, where a man dressed in a plain dark suit was pacing on the verandah outside another room, with the distinct bump of a gun under his jacket. A bodyguard.

‘Kuroda, really,’ Thaniel said, only half listening. He’d known that already. Mori had warned him there would be a welcome party. He was still scanning the steam, certain he was going to see someone.