Last Train to Istanbul (7 page)

Macit didn’t find it necessary to hide his joy at this; neither, it appeared, did the rest of the gathered assembly. “What is it that they say? Every cloud has a silver lining.”

Inönü now had the perfect excuse for not joining the war. It was as though luck were on his side. If the Italians invaded Greece, then they would be on Turkey’s doorstep. Since Turkey didn’t have
the arms to defend herself, what would be the good of siding with Britain?

After hours of discussion, the minister was able to draft a response to the British. Macit took the draft. He opened the door for the minister to leave.

“I will bring it to you as soon as it is ready,” he said respectfully.

“I’ll be in my office,” the minister said to the general secretary. “We must remember that there are other important matters to deal with too, including the posting to Paris. You know they are desperate for more staff there. We mustn’t let them down.”

Macit got home in the early hours of the morning. He undressed in the sitting room and lay down on the sofa, so as not to disturb Sabiha. He was absolutely exhausted and fell into a deep sleep, not even missing his bed. He was dead tired, but nightmares kept invading his mind. It was as though those long meetings were coming back to haunt him. He dreamed that the Germans had attacked Ankara and were dragging his wife and child toward a train bound for a labor camp. He ran desperately to the train, trying to get on it himself to be with them.

The next morning at the office, Macit saw Tarık. They were both still really tired. “Have you got any plans for the weekend?” Macit asked.

“I have my French lesson between nine and twelve on Sunday, as you know, but nothing else after that.”

“Don’t make any plans. I’ll ask Halit to join us if he is free and we can all have lunch together at Çiftlik open-air restaurant if the weather is fine. Then we can play bridge at home. How does that sound?”

“Sounds good to me,” said Tarık. “How is Sabiha Hanım?”

“Fine, fine. Well, neither good nor bad, really. I’ve never been able to understand what makes women tick…Well, enough of that,” he said. “Don’t forget Sunday. I am sure Sabiha will be thrilled if you join us.”

Macit was on his way to another of his long meetings. He collected the files from his office, tucked them under his arm, and rushed out. The telephone rang, and Tarık picked it up. “Hello…yes, sir…yes…yes…of course I can…I’ll be there right away, sir.” Buttoning his jacket, Tarık told the secretary that the secretary general wanted to see him, adding, “If anybody rings, tell them—hell, never mind, I’ll be back shortly.”

“I hope it’s nothing serious,” she said as Tarık left the room. Why would the chief want to see Tarık and not Macit? she wondered.

Tarık returned to his office half an hour later with the same look of surprise he’d had when he left. When Macit returned about an hour later, he found Tarık emptying his desk, piling everything on top.

“When you have finished tidying up, maybe we can grab some lunch,” Macit said. “There are some interesting developments we need to discuss.”

Tarık hurriedly replaced the files in the drawer. “I’ve got things to tell you too,” he said.

“Really?”

“I’d like to thank you for the kind reference you wrote for my file.”

“What’s this all about?”

“I heard about your reference today.”

“Those are supposed to be strictly confidential.”

“Yes, of course. I only got the gist of it, but I know that you wrote some very positive things.”

“Who told you so?”

“The secretary general.”

“Unbelievable!”

“Macit, I’ll tell you all about it over lunch. However, I’d like to tell you right away that you will have to find someone to replace me for bridge on Sunday.”

“What on earth are you talking about, Tarık?”

“I won’t be in Ankara on Sunday.”

“I do hope that it is nothing serious.
Inşallah
, there is no death or sickness in the family?”

“No, no, thank God.”

“Sabiha will be most disappointed.”

Walking downstairs, the two colleagues continued their conversation.

“When Sabiha Hanım finds out where I’ll be, she will be very happy for me.”

Macit stopped suddenly and looked directly into Tarık’s face. “Are you telling me that you are getting married, by any chance?”

“I’m talking about an overseas position, Macit. I’ve just been appointed second secretary in Paris.”

“Oh, that!”

“You knew, then?”

“I knew it was under discussion. There was no question that you could cope with the job, but there was the language problem. This foreign minister asked me about your progress with French. I told him about your weekend lessons and the conversation practice with Sabiha.”

“Yes, he told me that too. He told me everything was fine and that I could improve my French when I got there.”

“I agree. You’re one of the ministry’s brightest young men, my friend. I am very happy for you, but the occupied area is dangerous.”

“Yes, of course. That’s why they prefer someone who is single.”

Macit put his hand on Tarık’s shoulder. “Congratulations,” he said. “I’m sure you’ll be very successful. Sabiha will be pleased, and
sorry too. You know how she values your friendship. When are you off?”

“Apparently I’m to leave immediately. I had intended to visit my family in Malatya over the holiday, but it isn’t to be. I wonder when I’ll see them again. Needless to say, I must come and say good-bye to Sabiha Hanım. There may be a few things she would like me to take to her sister.”

Macit tried to conceal his surprise that Sabiha had told Tarık a secret she’d kept from everyone else in Ankara. “Come on. I am taking you to my favorite restaurant, Karpiç, for a farewell lunch.”

“Thank you, Macit,” said Tarık. The look of surprise on his face was beginning to turn to anxiety about the future, with a hint of pride.

Sabiha indeed had mixed feelings about Tarık’s posting. On the one hand, she was losing her close, trusted friend; on the other, she hoped that Tarık being in Paris would be advantageous for Selva. Should there be the need, Selva and her child could at least seek refuge in the embassy. Tarık would also be able to help Rafo too, if necessary. When they spoke about this during their good-byes, Macit was quick to point out that Tarık was going to Paris and Selva and her family were in Marseilles.

“Don’t worry about that,” Tarık said. “I am sure I will be able to communicate with them. I’ll telephone them as soon as I arrive in Paris.”

When Sabiha went into the kitchen to fetch the tea, Macit turned to Tarık with a word of warning. “Be careful, Tarık, this is very sensitive. Don’t get yourself into any trouble. You are a Turkish diplomat and your duties come first. You shouldn’t jeopardize your own position because of Selva and Rafo.”

Sabiha was in tears when Tarık left. “I’ll miss you, Tarık. I’m losing a very dear friend,” she said, her voice trembling.

“You’re not losing me at all.
Inşallah
, we’ll see each other again after my posting is over. If I can manage to speak French at all, it is thanks to you, Sabiha Hanım.”

He gently kissed Sabiha’s hand, just as Macit and Numan did on such occasions, stopping himself from touching his forehead with his hand as they did back home. How could anyone know that this was the first time that he had kissed a lady’s hand without touching it to his forehead? What he really wanted was to press Sabiha’s hand tightly in his. He wished he could put his arms around her slender figure, and breathe in the scent of her long blonde hair. The woman of his dreams, the woman he would one day marry, must resemble Sabiha. Walking down the long hallway on his way out, what he’d never wanted to admit before suddenly dawned on him. Wherever he went he’d never forget Sabiha’s fair complexion, or her sad green eyes. She would always have a special place in his heart.

After Tarık left, Sabiha went straight to her room and lay motionless on her bed with her eyes closed. Macit entered the room. “There is something I want to propose to you,” he said.

“About the fourth for bridge tomorrow?”

“No, darling. It’s just that I have been thinking. You spend a lot of time on your own…” Sabiha opened her eyes, looking at her husband as he continued. “It looks like we are going to be extremely busy at the office over the next few days. I won’t have any spare time to spend with you. We seem to be facing a new crisis every day. I was wondering…”

“What were you wondering?”

“Why don’t we invite your parents here? Now that Istanbul is being evacuated, they could stay with us for a while. It would be a change for them and you won’t have to worry.”

Sabiha sat up on her bed. “That’s an excellent idea!”

“Yes, I think so,” Macit said, continuing with a certain reproach in his voice, “since you no longer have anyone to share your secret with.”

“What? What do you mean by that?”

“I find it very interesting that you’d tell no one here about Selva, and yet Tarık seems to be fully aware of it.”

“Macit, he listened to me.”

“Did you try to tell anyone else who would listen, Sabiha?”

“To whom would I turn?”

“How do I know? Birsen, Necla, Hümeyra? You see them at least once a week. Don’t you have any other friends? Why are you so obsessed with talking about Selva? Honestly, I don’t understand why you continue to torture yourself about her.”

“You’ll never understand,” Sabiha replied reproachfully, feeling a little proud. After all, wasn’t there the hint of jealousy in Macit’s remark?

FROM ISTANBUL TO PARIS

Tarık put the letter he had written to his mother, together with a few banknotes, in an envelope and sealed it carefully. He was sad that he wouldn’t be able to visit his family for the holiday, and the thought of not knowing when he would see them again really depressed him. What bothered him most was that his father hadn’t lived long enough to see his promotion. He would have dearly loved to visit his grave, say a prayer, and thank him. “Dear Father, your sacrifices haven’t been in vain. May you rest in peace, safe in the knowledge that I’ll conduct my life in the honorable way that you would want me to.” Luckily, his apartment mates in Ankara returned the deposit he had paid for his room, and it was this money that he was able to send to his mother. He hoped he would be able to save money in Paris so he could continue to support her.