Petrified (36 page)

But İkmen hadn’t come to explore issues allied to the case he had just completed. Relevant or not, the only real fact here was that his daughter and Balthazar’s son were in love and whatever waited for them in the future was as uncertain and nebulous as sea mist. In that they were just like every other couple in the world.

‘My brother-in-law Talaat died yesterday,’ İkmen said.

‘May your head be alive.’ Estelle murmured the standard response to this news.

İkmen smiled his reply to her. ‘And so when the mourning period is at an end, I am going to arrange a wedding,’ he said. ‘In spite of death, elections, religion, war and an almost complete lack of money, I am going to give my family, and yours, if you want it, a party.’

‘But—’

‘Because if I don’t they will just live together and really scandalise our wives and because, Balthazar, life must and will go on,’ İkmen said. ‘And although I know in my heart that fate will do whatever it wishes with us in the end, sometimes it’s important to have what you want first and then take the consequences. I’m giving those young people to each other . . .’

‘With my blessing,’ Estelle put in softly.

They both saw the tears begin in the crippled man’s eyes.

‘Balthazar . . .’

‘And so at the bottom of my life, you take my honour away from me Çetin Bey?’ He looked up furiously into İkmen’s face.

‘No.’

‘Yes! You take my child and . . .’ His tears overwhelmed him, robbing him of speech.

Estelle, with one eye still on İkmen, went over to her husband and placed her arms around his shoulders. Strangely, in view of the fact that she had effectively defied him, he didn’t resist. Great screaming sobs came out of him then, the result İkmen knew of years of misery that went quite beyond the situation with Berekiah.

However, misery of this depth should, İkmen knew, only be exhibited to those closest to a person and so, with a small smile at Estelle, he left. He had hoped that Balthazar would willingly come round to his point of view in the way that Fatma had, but then, thinking about it as he walked down the steep streets of Karaköy, he knew that hadn’t really been very realistic. Change, even of the welcome variety, hurt. Maybe over time Balthazar would come round . . .

But maybe not. What was and had to remain important was the future. Hulya, Berekiah, all of his other children. What was in the past was just that – in the past – important but gone. Old concepts, like old bodies, rotted and dissolved for a reason. He’d watched Fatma let go of Talaat with tears of pain in her deepest heart, but he knew that what she was doing was right. Now that Talaat’s body was buried they could start planning for the wedding. Fatma and his girls would enjoy planning the food and choosing their clothes. As for him, İkmen thought that perhaps he might enjoy getting involved in the organisation of the entertainment. Gypsy musicians and fortune-tellers – just like the old days. İkmen smiled, perhaps he’d go and see Gonca, maybe she’d decorate the apartment for the occasion – with tarot cards and horse tails. Maybe he’d even ask her or one of her relatives to perform spells to prevent war, to protect Bülent and all his young friends too. With people like George W. Bush and Saddam Hussein loose in the world, ordinary boys like his son needed all the protection they could get.

But all of that was for the future. Now was not the time to go wandering up the hill towards Gonca’s rackety place. If anyone had asked him why it wasn’t the right time, İkmen wouldn’t have been able to answer them. He just knew. Gonca, whether with reality or with dreams, was otherwise engaged. He also knew that whenever he saw her again, she would tell him all about it. İkmen smiled. Neither black nor white, good nor bad, the gypsy was always and shamelessly herself. He liked that about her.

İkmen walked down the Galata Hill, across the Galata Bridge and up into Sultan Ahmet. The unaccustomed exercise made him puff, and pulled at his muscles, but it reminded him that he was alive, which was good. And as he entered his apartment other live bodies came forward to greet him. Every one of them touched him with affection.