Farewell: A Mansion in Occupied Istanbul (Turkish Literature) (16 page)

Kemal’s face registered his disappointment.

“Don’t worry, you’ll have other, more dangerous duties, too.”

“Like what?”

“I’ll tell you when the time comes.”

“I want to go to Anatolia, Mahir.”

“I know you do, brother. But if everyone goes off to Anatolia, who will handle logistics and shipping here? The arms are all being secured in Istanbul for transfer there. The demobilized soldiers are being regrouped and redeployed to the countryside from Istanbul. We’ve got to prepare their papers, raise funds, buy weapons from the French and Italians . . . These are vital tasks. As vital as taking up arms. When the time comes, you’ll pass over to Anatolia, and you’ll be healthier and stronger than you are now.”

“You’re right.”

“The appointment of Re
ş
at Bey to the Damat Ferit Cabinet is an excellent development, Kemal. You might have the opportunity to obtain some valuable information from your uncle.”

“Do you really expect me to spy on my uncle?”

“Of course I don’t, but it would be most helpful if you kept us informed of anything you learn about arrest warrants and detainments.”

“I don’t want my uncle to get into trouble on my account. Arrange my passage to the farm and I’ll do anything they want. Mahir, once I leave this house I’ll never be able to return. I have no right to endanger the others.”

“I understand, but information obtained from your uncle would be so valuable to us . . . I wonder if you couldn’t stay here a while longer?”

“I’m bored to death. And even if I stayed elsewhere, I could still . . . No Mahir, it’s impossible!”

“I don’t blame you, but I do think it’s time to forget family loyalties. We’re about to lose our homeland.”

“My uncle will understand that. Believe me, he was badly shaken by the raid on Parliament and the massacre at
Ş
ehzadepa
ş
a Police Headquarters.”

“Well then, we’ll let time take care of everything, Kemal,” said Mahir, “but how much time do we have? That’s the problem!”

Azra got a chair from the dining table, placed it next to the stool Leman sat on as she played the piano, and sat down next to her.

“There’s a piece we can play together. Shall I show you how?” she asked.

“Is it two-handed?”

“Yes.”

“Alright, but don’t let Suat see.”

“Why?”

“She’ll want to learn it too.”

“Would that be so bad? You could play it together.”

“I don’t want to, Azra Abla. She gets her hands all muddy in the garden and then she touches the keys without washing them. She annoys me.”

“It seems you take after Saraylıhanım, you’re a little bit fastidious.”

“So what? I don’t want anyone touching my things.”

“Cleanliness and tidiness are certainly virtues, but only in moderation,” Azra said. “You play beautifully, Leman. Would you like to be a pianist?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean performing in great concert halls, playing professionally.”

“Girls don’t do that sort of thing after they’re married, Azra Abla.”

“They do if they want to, Leman. Are you thinking about marriage already?”

“Not now, but in a few years. Nana says a good match shouldn’t be missed. They make the best matches when a girl is still young.”

“Is that so?”

“Of course it is. Just look at you—can’t find a husband.”

“Is that what Saraylıhanım told you?” Azra laughed.

Leman shook her head and asked, “Why don’t you get married, Azra Abla?”

“I already have, my girl. But my husband was martyred in the war.”

“Couldn’t you get married again?”

“I could, but I prefer to remain faithful to the memory of my husband.”

“But Azra Abla, are you going to go through life without a husband, without children?”

“It wouldn’t be easy for me to find a suitable man, Leman. Saraylıhanım has a point, the men my age are all married with children.”

“Not all of them. Uncle Kemal is a bachelor.”

“Oh! Now whose idea was that?”

“They were talking about it the other day.”

“I see. So your nana wants to marry me off to your uncle.”

“No, not my nana, my mother. She thinks you’re suitable for each other.”

“Unfortunately, we grew up as brother and sister. Marriage is out of the question.”

“What a shame! I’m ever so fond of you, and I’d hate for a strange woman to come to the house.”

“Rest easy, Leman, your uncle has no intention of getting married any time soon.”

“But mother wants him married without delay. She says he won’t develop a sense of responsibility otherwise.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes. He’ll settle down once he has a family, that’s what mother says.”

“And I’ve been chosen to bring him to heel, is that it?”

“Mother says only an experienced woman could cope with Uncle Kemal, but nana wants to find him a young maiden. That’s what I heard her say.”

“God willing, Kemal will find his own bride when the time comes. Now, shall we play that piece I told you about?”

They had just begun when Kemal joined them. “Azra, could I ask you to join me for a moment, there’s something we need to discuss.”

“Leman and I are playing piano right now. Let’s talk a little later.”

“Please, Azra. It’s important.”

When Leman looked at Azra with a devilish sparkle in her eyes and said, “Go talk to my uncle, we can play later,” Azra stood up with a sinking heart. She couldn’t help wondering if she was being toyed with by Leman, at the behest of Behice. Had she fallen into a trap? She’d accepted the invitation to stay at the house without hesitation, never suspecting ulterior motives of any kind. She followed Kemal into the sitting room.

“And what is it that could be so terribly urgent?” she asked brusquely.

“What I’m about to tell you should remain confidential, Azra.”

“Do you think I’ll babble to the neighbors?”

“What’s gotten into you Azra? What do you mean, babble?”

“I don’t know! Go on, tell me your secret!”

“You’re friends with Fehime Sultan, aren’t you?” Kemal asked. Azra was taken aback by the unexpected reference to the princess. “I am. What of it?”

“Would you be able to obtain information from her?”

“What kind of information?” asked Azra, her curiosity piqued.

“You’re familiar with the association known as T.S. . . .”

Azra thought for a moment. “Which association? Ah, yes.”

“Them. They’ve been financing religious schools and institutions as a way of opening a front against the Nationalists.”

“So I’ve heard. The ladies in my organization have discussed it.”

“Just think, Azra, this association has identified over twenty-five religious schools in Anatolia. With the funding from the Sultan, they’re swimming in money. And how do you think the Sultan finances them?”

“How?”

“The money is provided by the occupation forces. The English disburse funds to the Sultan, who passes the money along to pro-English proponents of Shari’a, chief among them Sheikh Sait. If Fehime Sultan could only find a way to get the Sultan to admit as much . . .”

“But isn’t it perfectly obvious, Kemal?”

“That may be so, but confirmation from the royal lips would be different. Otherwise, we might be forced to slander the Sultan.”

And so what if we do
, Azra thought to herself. Kemal looked troubled.

“Ah, now I understand! You’re frightened of your uncle, aren’t you?”

“I’m not afraid of anyone. I’d simply like to be absolutely certain that the Sultan knows what he does. If we’re made to answer for our actions one day, I’d like to hold my head high with the certainty that I have slandered no one.”

“Is it worth taking all this trouble for a Sultan who would accept money from the states occupying his lands?”

“It is. If my uncle were to hear the Sultan himself admit as much, he would join us.”

“And then all would be saved?”

“If the person controlling the state coffers joined our cause it would certainly be a reason for celebrating, yes.”

“But how can your uncle be so blind to what’s so obvious to us, Kemal?”

“People are blind to the faults of those they love and to whom they’ve sworn fealty. Tell me, do you think Fehime Sultan can extract this admission during conversation with the Sultan?”

“I’ll go home and have Hakkı Efendi deliver a letter to Fehime Sultan, telling her I’d to pay a call.”

“Then please, go immediately. If we succeed, we’ll have obtained a powerful recruiting tool for the resistance.”

“Don’t worry, I was planning on leaving anyway. My mother tells me that the Asian Shore is more secure, and wants me to stay with her at my aunt’s in Erenköy. I’ll have to visit Fehime Sultan before I go there. Nor do I wish to abuse your gracious hospitality.”

“That would be impossible! You’re always welcome here.”

“Yes, I’ve gathered as much. There’s some intelligence I’d like to share—shall I?”

“Out with it.”

“Your aunt has been matchmaking; I thought you should know.” At first Kemal didn’t fully grasp the implications of Azra’s words. When he did, he guffawed loudly. “What makes you think that?”

“You know what they say about the accuracy of information from the mouths of babes.”

“Did Suat tell you?”

“No, Leman did. She’s overheard her mother talking about how suitable we are for each other.”

“You know, she does have a point. Perhaps I’ll give it some thought,” Kemal said, still laughing.

“You wouldn’t dare!”

“Am I so unworthy of you, Azra?”

“Don’t say that even in jest. You’re like a brother to me.”

“And even if I weren’t, you deserve far better than the likes of me. Someone healthy and wise, with an inheritance or a career.”

“And does anyone you know meet that criteria?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact.”

“And who is this perfect catch?”

“Doctor Mahir, for example.”

“For goodness sake,” Azra cried, “I thought I was visiting the home of friends, but it seems I’ve wandered into a nest of matchmakers. If I hear the name of that doctor again, Kemal, our friendship will suffer a serious rupture. In fact, I might not look you in the face ever again.”

“Why so angry, Azra?”

“Promise me you’ll never pronounce his name again.”

“I promise! But I’d like you to promise you won’t neglect to visit with Fehime Sultan.”

“I promise.”

“Azra . . . forgive me for breaking my promise so soon . . . But why are you so set against Mahir? Has he done something to disturb you?”

“Of course not!”

“Well then, could you explain the vehemence of your objecion?”

“It’s a personal matter.”

“I see. He approached you; you spurned him. End of subject. I won’t mention him again.”

“Kemal, don’t be ridiculous!”

“Well I know the two of you were close friends as recently as a month ago. Whenever Mahir stopped by to see me it seemed he was always on his way from your house. You must have found his attentions excessive.”

Azra bowed her head for a moment, then she suddenly looked Kemal directly in the eye: “No, it’s the opposite. I understood that Mahir Bey didn’t return my affections.”

“The fool,” said Kemal. “Forgive me for prying, Azra. I’ll never mention him again.”

“Kemal, I’d have no objection . . . I haven’t made marriage to the doctor a question of my personal honor. I simply misunderstood the nature of our friendship.”

“But his having failed to appreciate the charms of someone like you . . . It makes no sense.”

“He appreciates me well enough, Kemal. But love is something else.”

“Ah, Azra, don’t I know it,” Kemal sighed. “The heart knows no master. If only we could demand its obedience.”

“The obedience of our desires, as well as our hearts. It seems to me that you men are far more captive to your desires than to your hearts.”

“How did you reach that conclusion?”

Azra was preparing to respond, but fell silent when Leman entered the room with a silver tray of foamy coffee, Mehpare just behind her.

“Forgive me for interrupting,” Mehpare said, nodding in the direction of Leman, “but the little lady insisted on bringing you your morning coffee.”

“I did no such thing!” Leman protested. “It was Mehpare Abla who wanted to make coffee.”

“And a good thing she did, too,” Azra smiled. “I haven’t had a good strong cup of coffee for ever so long. Mehpare, I wonder if you wouldn’t mind reading my cup when I’m finished. Behice says you’re a wonderful fortune teller.”

“Reading coffee grounds is nothing more than a diversion,” Mehpare said. “I simply make things up as I go along, just as Saraylıhanım taught me.”

“Well let’s see what my cup inspires you to say. Who knows, perhaps you’ll divine a path leading directly to the Palace,” said Azra, with a clandestine wink at Kemal.

The wink was not lost on Mehpare.

Leman cried, “Oh, Azra Abla, are you really going to the Palace? And will you take mother with you again?”

“I won’t be taking your mother this time, Leman. Certain things of great interest to me seem to leave her quite faint,” Azra laughed.

“To be fair to my aunt, she had other reasons to faint that day,” Kemal said.

Mehpare took a cup of coffee from the tray in Leman’s hand and placed it on the end table in front of Azra. But as she was handing the second cup to Kemal, her hand suddenly trembled, spilling most of its contents onto his lap.

“Ah! I’m ever so sorry, sir. Let me get you a napkin. And it was piping hot, too. I hope you haven’t burned yourself!”

Tugging at the rapidly growing stain on the front of his trousers, Kemal leapt to his feet and raced out of the room. To Mehpare, who had followed, he whispered, “I
have
scorched myself, actually. And each passing day makes it clearer just how badly.”

When Leman heard her father and uncle talking inside the room with the bow window on the middle floor, she tapped on the door. Saraylıhanım had admonished her since childhood not to enter a room until granted permission, so Leman waited outside for the words “come in”. It was strange, she knew her father and uncle were behind the door, but there was no response from either of them. Her patience exhausted, she finally pushed the door open a crack and peeked inside. The two men were seated opposite each other on the divan and so engrossed in their conversation that they hadn’t even heard her. She ran toward her father: