Last Train to Istanbul (37 page)

“Tarık, that’s not why I’m crying. It’s strange that I don’t feel like going now when I was so desperate before. I—I don’t want to leave you. Can’t you see?”

Tarık kissed Margot all over her face and neck. “I wish I could ask you to stay, my darling.”

“Why don’t you then?”

“I can’t, Margot. I have no right to ask you to waste the best years of your life. You’re young and beautiful, and like all young women you’ll want to get married and have a family.”

“I know you can’t marry me unless you resign, Tarık.”

“It hasn’t been easy for me to get where I am. My father worked very hard to give me a good education. I can’t tell you what he went through so that I could study in Istanbul. It wasn’t just a matter of getting the money together for the school and boarding; there were also the books and my clothes; he took into account that I shouldn’t look worse than my peers. Eventually his heart couldn’t take the strain. I’m where he wanted me to be, Margot. I couldn’t possibly resign. To do that would be to disrespect his efforts and his memory.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to resign, Tarık. As for having children, well, what will be will be.”

“Oh, my darling! You really don’t realize. Having a child out of wedlock, or not being able to give your son your family name, is
considered a fate worse than death in Anatolia. You may not necessarily feel that way now, but believe me, in a few years’ time, you’ll want what every young woman does and then you’ll blame me. No, Margot. We shouldn’t do this to each other.”

“In that case, let’s make the best of tonight.”

“Yes, let’s. Let’s make tonight our very own, our own special night, beautiful, precious, and emotional, the night I’ll remember as long as I live…”

Tarık lifted her from his lap and gently put her down on the carpet. He started kissing and undressing her tenderly. He removed her clothes piece by piece, breathing in the scent of her body, gazing in awe at her slender pale form on the dark-blue carpet as though she were a Goya masterpiece. He wanted this picture, this image of this beautiful, blonde woman eagerly and lovingly abandoning herself to him, to settle in his mind forever, erasing the image of the other blonde woman imprinted there.

ANKARA

Macit was so surprised by the telephone call he had just received, he was still holding the receiver and looking around the room for his colleague. He was alone. Only his secretary was in the adjoining office, and he preferred not to discuss the news with her until it had been confirmed. He put the receiver down and walked into her office.

“Mediha Hanım, I’m going to Hüsnü’s office. Let me know immediately if there are any calls.”

Just as he turned to leave, he came face-to-face with Hüsnü. They went back into Macit’s office and he closed the door.

“Is this true?” asked Hüsnü.

“I just heard it myself. I was on my way to your office to ask the same question.”

“When did it happen?”

“Von Papen, the German ambassador, asked for an appointment to see our foreign minister, Numan, at eleven o’clock this morning. He arrived right on time and went straight up to see him. Their meeting lasted about twenty minutes. I didn’t see Von Papen leave, but those who did said he had a very long face. At about one o’clock, the prime minister telephoned Numan and asked to see
him before the lunch break ended. I realized something strange was happening, but I never thought that it would end in a resignation.”

“Obviously it did.”

“Hüsnü, I suggest we keep this under our hats for a while. Maybe President Inönü will persuade Numan to—”

“The Numan I know will never change his mind if he has decided to resign.”

“I wonder if resigning was his idea, or if he was pushed,” said Macit.

“We’ll find out soon enough. In the meantime, I will be at the chancellery.”

“Be careful, Hüsnü. Don’t discuss this with anyone. Everything might change.”

“Don’t fret, Macit. Of course I understand that as the minister’s pet you don’t want him to leave.”

“That’s not true at all! I can’t believe you said that. I’m a bureaucrat at heart. I got to where I am through years of hard work, not by favors,” Macit said angrily.

“Don’t be so touchy. I was only joking.”

“I was only telling you to hang fire for a while. There’s no point aggravating a situation that might change. After all, no one knows if the resignation will be withdrawn or not. That’s all. Do as you wish!”

“I said I’m sorry, didn’t I? No need to prolong this any further. I’ll be careful; I promise. I’m just as aware as you that it would be unwise to change horses midstream, especially when the stream is so turbulent.
Inşallah
, we have been misinformed. I’ll find out the details.”

“I’ve got to deal with two separate delegations today, so I’m stuck here. If you do hear anything, let me know,” Macit said coldly.

Macit was upset at both the foreign minister’s resignation and his friend’s insinuation. He sat at his desk trying to analyze some
files, but he was unable to concentrate. The telephone rang continuously. Everyone wanted to discuss the same subject and offer their personal opinions.

Macit asked his secretary not to interrupt his meetings with the delegations unless a call was urgent. The second meeting lasted much longer than expected, and when Macit left the room to go to the toilet, the secretary told him that Hüsnü had called several times. It was only toward the end of the day that Macit got around to going to Hüsnü’s office.

As soon as Macit saw the expression on Hüsnü’s face, he knew the news he had received that morning was true.

About an hour later, Macit was deep in thought as he walked home through the drizzling rain. Why couldn’t things go well for him? Just as things were beginning to improve at home, now this problem at the ministry. If his dear mother were alive, she would certainly say, “Let me lift the curse of the evil eye from you, my son.”

Having almost reached the breaking point, his relationship with Sabiha had suddenly improved. He didn’t know exactly what had caused this sudden change of heart, just as he never found out why she’d become so distant in the first place. But one thing was certain, that night when he returned home from Cairo, she had cuddled up to him in bed.

Even though he didn’t like to admit it, Macit felt that that know-it-all doctor had been good for his wife. Sabiha’s relationship with Hülya was better too; at least she was making more of an effort to show an interest in her daughter. Macit couldn’t believe his ears when Hülya told him that she had been to the cinema with her mother.

“Is that true?” he had asked Sabiha.

“Of course it’s true,” Hülya interrupted. “Auntie Hümeyra and Pelin came with us. We saw an Esther Williams film. Doesn’t she swim beautifully, Daddy? I’d like to learn to swim like her.”

“In the summer, my darling, when we go to Istanbul. You can practice when we are on the island.”

“Won’t I need a teacher?”

“What for? Your mother is an excellent swimmer—I’m sure she could teach you.”

“Actually, I wish your aunt Selva were here. She was much better than me, she could teach you really well,” Sabiha said.

Macit noticed his father-in-law, sitting opposite him at the table, looked quizzically when he heard Selva’s name. At least it was a look of sadness now rather than the anger of the past. They were able to talk about Selva quite comfortably now in his presence.

When Macit reached Kızılay, he turned toward Sakarya Street. He stopped at the florist on the corner and bought some white carnations for his wife. When they got engaged, he’d promised to always buy her white flowers, saying, “Because you’re pure and delicate like a white flower.”

That objectionable psychiatrist had certainly helped improve things at home. Since Dr. Sahir had accused him of neglecting his wife in favor of his heavy work schedule, Macit had realized that there were ways he could make things up that would mean a lot to her.

On the way home with the flowers, Macit wondered why he had taken such a dislike to that doctor. The poor man hadn’t really done anything wrong. On the contrary, he had tried to be helpful by insinuating that Sabiha’s attitude might in fact be due to Macit’s own negligence. Was it possible, then, that he might have been jealous because Sabiha spent so much time being “naked” in front of this man? Not
really
naked, of course. Nonetheless, Sabiha had told him, “I feel naked in front of this doctor. He somehow manages to strip me of my inhibitions and look deep into my soul!” Macit
suddenly felt uncomfortable thinking that he might have been jealous of his wife. Who knew how angry Sabiha would be if she knew his thoughts? She’d certainly say, “What the hell do you take me for?”

Macit quickened his step as his thoughts started racing. What was Sabiha doing all the time that she was on her own? Who was she seeing? Was there someone else in her life causing her to be distant? He stumbled and looked around. Had anyone noticed that he nearly fell just then? No, Ankara was full of tired people immersed in their own thoughts, going over their own problems while rushing home. Where had all these doubts suddenly come from? Why was he having these strange fantasies concerning his wife after so many years?

Suddenly his mood changed and he felt warm inside despite the drizzling rain and the cold weather. He remembered how his wife had snuggled up to him the night he had returned from Cairo. The way she had rekindled the fire in his body when he felt her naked breasts rubbing against his chest. Her hot lips had filled him with desire, making him feel a passion he hadn’t felt for ages. He’d been taken aback by the emotional intensity between them that night. Could it be that he had fallen in love all over again with this capricious and coy wife of his?

When Macit got home, Fazıl Reşat Paşa opened the door for him.

“You shouldn’t have troubled yourself. Isn’t Hacer at home?” he asked.

“No trouble at all. It’s Hacer’s day off today,” his father-in-law answered. “I was standing by the window waiting for Leman Hanım to come home, and I saw you arriving.”

“Is Hülya with her?”

“No, Hülya went next door to play with her friend. I think Sabiha is in her room. What lovely flowers! Are you going out this evening?”

“No, I just got them for us. I’d better get out of these wet clothes,” Macit said, walking to his room.

Sabiha was in her dressing gown with a towel wrapped around her head. She was sitting on her bed applying polish to her toenails and was surprised to see him.

“Good Lord, Macit, you’re early! I didn’t expect you yet.”

Macit put the flowers on her lap.

“What’s all this about?”

“They’re for you.”

Macit took the bottle of nail polish from his wife’s hand and placed it on the bedside table. He then pulled her dressing gown off and pushed her down onto the pillows. Sabiha tried to resist. He pulled down her green knickers with one hand while trying to unbutton his trousers with the other.

“Macit! What are you doing? Mind my nail polish. You’ll get it everywhere. Macit, what’s come over you all of a sudden? My father’s next door. You’re crushing the flowers!”

Macit took Sabiha by force. He kissed her lips passionately so that she wouldn’t be able to speak. As she whimpered under him, he looked at this jasmine-scented woman and wondered if she had indeed been unfaithful with that doctor.

“Ohhh!”…Or someone else?…“Ohhh!” He thrust himself, again and again, deep inside her before finally rolling over.

“Oh, Sabiha!” he said.