Authors: Maureen Freely
Enlightenment (39 page)
We lose only our heroes. The beauty of our faith in them. Yes, this is what I miss the most about the days when Dutch Harding was our secret, and our hero. But life goes on. Hearts break and then they mend. Soon, very soon, I shall look up at the door of this benighted terrace for the thousandth desperate time and I’ll see Chloe, looking nonchalant, even as she passes the so-called therapist who spilled all her secrets to her dear departed husband’s less than dear sister. Who, as we soon discovered, had amorous links with İsmet. Who, when he had gathered enough details, spilled it all into the press, adding lies in such a way that soon the entire city was of the mistaken view that Haluk had taken Chloe on as his mistress.
Such poppycock! But what can it do to us? It gives us a purpose – to be seen not to care. Which is why, when Chloe’s seated, she’ll order me a gin and tonic, and two for herself, and she’ll tell me about the latest disasters at the clinic, and say something about a salsa teacher, at which our golden friend at the next table will grab her sunglasses to make a hasty exit.
And I won’t be able to hold it back one more moment. I’ll take out the postcard I’ve just received, the one with the Lebanese postmark, and a certain poem by a certain Nâzim Hikmet on the back. Whose handwriting? Whose telling initials? Is that a J next to the M? Could it be that M has succeeded in her quest and found her?
Are we to understand that she is now keeping her safe? Chloe will understand my questions from my silences. She will lean over the postcard and…
Say nothing. Simply smile. For this is not the apposite moment, and already it will be hard to see the letters in the setting sunlight. We’ll sit back and look at the azure view turning pink at the edges, and just as we are running through our final ounces of forbearance, we’ll look over at the door and there will be Haluk, looking bronzed and so much stronger after his month in Bodrum, and next to him Lüset, and in her arms, our Emre.
Who is perfect, who is ours, who needs no proof, no test, no document to make him so. Who is waiting, as are we all, for the day his parents come home to us. Who trusts us with such wide and aching eyes when we tell him it is only a matter of time.
But first, justice. First, the truth.
Swords of Ice
by Latife Tekin
Halilhan Sunteriler, would-be entrepreneur, rescues a red Volvo from the scrap heap, which he believes will lead him to big money in business ventures.
He solicits the help of his staunch friend Gogi, the most ‘cultured’ man of the neighbourhood, and gradually Halilhan’s two younger brothers, Hazmi and Mesut, are also drawn into the project.
Hazmi is aggressive and fights Halilhan whenever he gets a chance, Mesut lives too much in the shadow of his wife to confront his elder brother, and as for Halilhan, he is too busy having affairs to take much notice of either of them – or his wife Rübeysa.
‘A nihilistic wit reminiscent of Samuel Beckett’
Independent on Sunday
Translated from the Turkish by Saliha Paker and Mel Kenne
ISBN: 978–0–7145–3135–9 •
£
7.99/$14.95 • May 2007
Berji Kristin
TALES FROM THE GARBAGE HILLS
by Latife Tekin
The cast-offs of modern urban society are driven out onto the edges of the city and left to make a life there for themselves.
They are not, however, in any natural wilderness, but in a world of refuse and useless junk - a place which denies any form of sustainable life.
Here, the unemployed, the homeless, the old and the bereft struggle to build shelters out of old tin cans, scavenge for food and fight against insuperable odds.
And yet somehow they survive: it seems that this society thrives on the garbage hills because it has always been built on one.
In this dark fairy tale full of scenes taken from what has increasingly become a way of life for many inhabitants on this planet, Latife Tekin has written a grim parable of human destiny.
Translated from the Turkish by Ruth Christie and Saliha Paker
‘A provocative and enjoyable work.’
Times Literary Supplement
ISBN: 978–0–7145–3011–6 •
£
7.95/$14.95
First published in 2007
by Marion Boyars Publishers
26 Parke Road
London SW13 9NG
www.marionboyars.co.uk
This ebook edition first published in 2011
All rights reserved
© MAUREEN FREELY, 2007
The right of MAUREEN FREELY to be identified as author of this work has been asserted in accordance with Section 77 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988
This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights, and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly
ISBN 978–07145–2050–6
