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.
He had not been able to go to his family, nor had he had time to have a haircut before leaving! As soon as he was notified about his posting, he managed to duck out of the office, buy a suitcase, and book his ticket to Istanbul on the overnight train. His friends had advised him to do his shopping in Istanbul, and Macit gave him the names of several stores, insisting that he at least buy himself a good coat.
Tarık meticulously packed his gray suit and three white shirts. Between the shirts, he placed the letter and the small gift Sabiha had
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.
He had not been able to go to his family, nor had he had time to have a haircut before leaving! As soon as he was notified about his posting, he managed to duck out of the office, buy a suitcase, and book his ticket to Istanbul on the overnight train. His friends had advised him to do his shopping in Istanbul, and Macit gave him the names of several stores, insisting that he at least buy himself a good coat.
Tarık meticulously packed his gray suit and three white shirts. Between the shirts, he placed the letter and the small gift Sabiha had
Similar Books
