Last Train to Istanbul (43 page)

“Was it really rotten? He seemed to be enjoying it immensely.”

“He loves salami.”

“Don’t worry. The worst that can happen is that he gets the runs.”

The train rocked again and they were on their way. Ferit came into the compartment.

“I hope we’re safe,” he said. “We managed to cross the German border without any bother.”

“Didn’t they ask you anything?”

“What’s to ask?” said the old man. “We’re coming from a country they’re occupying! There’s no such thing as a border anymore.”

Their entry into Germany went without a hitch, and the carriage was filled with joy. Everyone was talking, laughing, and joking together.

Siegfried and the old man, whose name, they found out, was Asseo, were having a deep conversation in German. The rays of the autumn sun filled the compartment. First the train passed through
peaceful villages with small mud-roofed houses and neat vegetable gardens and fields of grazing cows; then there were small towns with stone houses under red-tiled roofs, and swimming pools and churches; finally, they moved through cities with baroque buildings. The train was going full steam, as if it were racing against time.

“Ahhh, look at that; we’ve just passed Karlsruhe station!” announced Marcel.

“Karlsruhe is in the south,” the old man said anxiously. “I wonder where they are taking us.”

A cloud came over Siegfried’s face too.

“Would you like a cigarette, Monsieur Kohen?” asked Margot.

“Thank you, but I’d rather smoke my own brand,” he replied, walking out into the corridor. Asseo followed him. Margot watched Siegfried take an elegant cigarette case from his pocket and offer a cigarette to Asseo. The two men started smoking, and once again, anxiety spread through the compartment. Everyone, except the children, was disturbed.

“I’m going to find Ferit,” Marcel said, leaving the compartment.

When he came back, he reported, “Apparently we’re unable to follow our route. Some of the tracks have been bombed and others have been closed. It seems we have to continue our journey weaving our way north and south like this. What else can they do? The journey will be longer, but it seems there’s nothing to worry about.”

After leaving Karlsruhe, the train turned north toward Mannheim and they relaxed again.

“If this anxiety continues, Selva, it will be the death of us, I’m sure,” Margot said.

“If this is as bad as it gets, I can put up with it,” Selva replied.

The train reached Frankfurt around lunchtime. Despite the fact that the station was inundated with soldiers, it was nice to be in a crowded station, bustling with people, after spending so much time in the middle of nowhere. But the presence of soldiers and SS
guards became more and more pervasive. The worst they’d experienced was the wait at the border, so they felt confident enough to get off the train for the half-hour stop. They hoped they would have sufficient time to replenish their food, buy newspapers, or have coffee in the station café.

Selva didn’t leave her seat. She didn’t want to disturb Fazıl, who had had a stomachache for over an hour. He had managed to relax after having a cup of tea and falling asleep on her lap. Asseo and Siegfried were the only others remaining in the compartment. Asseo’s face was very pale.

“Why don’t you go out for some fresh air, Monsieur Asseo?” Selva asked.

“I don’t feel well enough to cope with the crowds,” he replied.

“Of course you’re not well enough. You’ve hardly eaten a thing. I’ll give you some cake when Fazıl wakes up.”

“I must say I find you Turks extremely generous,” replied Asseo. “I hope my health will allow me to reach your country.”

“Don’t say things like that, Monsieur Asseo. You’ll be all right. You’ll see. We only have another few days before we get to Turkey.”

“Provided, of course, we don’t have to go too slowly and we’re not kept hanging around. If we continue at this rate, the journey could even take a month.”

“That’s wartime for you,” said Selva.

Rafo didn’t see his wife among the crowd on the platform, so he went back to the train.

“What’s wrong, Selva? Why didn’t you and Fazıl get off?”

“Fazıl has a bad stomachache. He ate a huge piece of rotten salami this morning.” Her anxiety over her son had made her forget about their fight.

“Where did he get the salami?”

“From my food basket.”

“Why on earth did you let him eat it?”

“He took it when I went to the toilet.”

Suddenly she realized that she had offered some salami to the old man.

“Monsieur Asseo, I assure you I didn’t know it was bad. It’s good you didn’t accept it.”

The old man smiled. “Believe me, madame, I’ve had to eat far worse things than that. The important thing is not to go hungry.”

“Rafo,” Selva said, “will you go and find a pharmacy in the station and get something for Fazıl’s tummy immediately?”

Rafo took Siegfried’s cigarette order and left. Asseo and Siegfried sat with Marcel’s backgammon set between them and started playing. Selva waited anxiously. Rafo took a long time to come back, but eventually he did, laden with all sorts of things.

“What took you so long? I was worried,” said Selva.

“Really, young lady, now you know what it means to worry.”

“You think I don’t know, Rafo?”

She reminded him of the anxiety she had gone through when he was taken away by the Gestapo. Rafo kissed Selva affectionately on the cheek.

“I couldn’t find a pharmacy, Selva. I couldn’t risk leaving the station to look for one. I asked a nurse who’s in another carriage, and she told me to either make him be sick, or give him something diarrhetic to eat. She assured me he would be OK after that.”

“Where on earth will I find something diarrhetic here? Are you suggesting that I cook him vegetables on the train?”

“She suggested salty water to make him vomit.”

Selva screwed up her face.

“He’s relaxed now. Let’s see how he is when he wakes up.” Rafo looked at the men playing backgammon.

“Who’s winning, gentlemen?”

“Is it possible to win playing him?” said Asseo.

“Don’t tell me Monsieur Kohen is a backgammon champion.”

“I win whenever we play,” replied Siegfried.

Selva decided then that the two men must be old friends. She hadn’t realized it before, because they had hardly spoken to each other. She thought they had just met on the train.

“I’m a good player too,” said Rafo.

“In that case, you should play the winner,” said Siegfried.

When, at last, those who had got off started returning to their seats, Selva gave a sigh of relief. She wanted to continue the journey without stopping at all. Although she had no one to meet her there, she wanted to return to her country as soon as possible. Her father had met the director of the immigration department. He obviously knew of their imminent journey. Would her mother be there to meet her? If her mother knew the date of her return, she would probably come in spite of her father. Her heart felt heavy just thinking about it. Now she couldn’t bear to think of parents and children not communicating with each other. How would she explain all this to Fazıl one day? Thank God he was only a child now, but she was sure that he would be asking questions one day.

Margot, Constance, Marcel, David, and the children came back to the compartment loaded with food, drinks, and newspapers.

Siegfried and Asseo immediately fell upon the newspapers.

“Russia and Czechoslovakia have signed an agreement,” Siegfried said after scanning his paper, and everyone was all ears. “The Russians have agreed to train the Czechs on their own soil in order to fight the Germans.”

“They did the same with Poland,” said Asseo. “The Germans were prepared to let the Poles train for their own purposes, but then in 1939, they invaded. The Russians don’t want to give up Poland.”

“It’s all up to the British,” said Siegfried. “Churchill claims he can’t force his new allies to give up vital territories. However, if he insisted, the question of the border between Russia and Poland could be solved.”

“Look what it says here.”

“What? I haven’t read anything good yet.”

“There’s a statement saying that the 1939 agreement is no longer valid. In other words, Poland can redraw her borders,” said Asseo.

“You’re very optimistic. This is just a ploy to delay things. If it were up to me, I’d be against both the Czechs and Poles training in Russia.”

“There’s a saying in Turkish, Monsieur Kohen,” said Rafo. “He who falls into the sea will cling even to a serpent.”

“That’s very appropriate,” said Siegfried. “It certainly explains this situation.”

“Are the two of you Polish?” asked Marcel.

“We aren’t,” answered the old man with a sad smile. “We have Turkish passports.”

Asseo and Siegfried closed the backgammon board.

“Who won?” asked Rafo.

“The outcome was obvious right from the start,” Siegfried answered, smiling cheerfully.

Margot and Selva looked at each other happily. They realized he’d finally managed to overcome his tension.

Then the train pulled away. The skinny conductor had been replaced by a more robust one.

“Where are we stopping on the way to Berlin?” asked Marcel.

This new conductor was more forthcoming. “We have an eight- to ten-hour journey ahead of us. If there are no problems and no instructions to the contrary, we should stop at Kassel and Magdeburg on the way.”

It started to rain as they passed through woods full of tall trees with their leaves turning red, and then the suburban towns again. The pouring rain made it impossible to see through the windows. The passengers in the various compartments felt secure together in their own little worlds. The men played backgammon, and the women were exchanging recipes. The pain in Fazıl’s stomach disturbed him from time to time, but then he’d calm down. The passengers seemed to have lost all notion of time.

It was dark all around, and a strong wind had started to blow. Food appeared all over again; Fazıl saw the food and wanted to eat in spite of his tummy ache.

“You haven’t eaten a thing all day, Monsieur Asseo,” Selva said. “Why don’t you have some cheese and biscuits?”

The old man took some, thanking her.

“I’m opening my last bottle of wine,” said David. “Now we have to stock up every time we stop.”

He poured wine into everyone’s tin mugs.

“Here’s to the exquisite taste of our last French bottle.”

They made a toast for a safe rest of the journey, lifting their mugs as if they were glasses.

“There’s just a little drop more in the bottle,” David whispered into Margot’s ear. “I’ve saved it for you. Who knows if we’ll ever drink such good wine again?”

“Why me?”

“Beautiful women like you deserve it.”

“I can see you’re feeling much better, David.”

“Let’s just say I’m resigned to my destiny…But I still can’t bear being cooped up in narrow spaces.”

“I’m sure you’ll get over it soon. Try not to worry. God has given us the power to deal with anything.”

“Look! We’ve just passed Magdeburg,” Selva suddenly shouted. “Weren’t we supposed to stop there?”

“That’s not possible, surely. Are you sure?” asked Marcel.

“Of course I am. The sign was huge, but we passed through at full speed.”

“In that case, we didn’t stop at Kassel either,” said Asseo. “Strange! I didn’t notice because I was concentrating on the game.”

“I wonder why,” said David.

Rafo, who was playing backgammon with Siegfried, became alarmed.

“I’d better go and find Ferit and see why we didn’t stop. He may have spoken to the conductor.”

The train was plowing through the night at full speed. They hadn’t traveled so fast since they boarded the train, and their efforts to see outside were in vain. The station Selva claimed to have seen was left far behind. The soft, relaxed atmosphere of just a few minutes before now became tense. Fazıl started to be a killjoy again.

Rafo and Ferit returned to the compartment.

“I spoke to the conductor,” Ferit said. “Selva was right; we didn’t stop at either of the stations. We’re heading for Berlin.”

“Why didn’t we stop?”