In the Shadow of the Yali

by Suat Dervis

  Without remorse. For she had done no wrong. She felt cleansed, as if by prayer.

  “Should we think of heading home, Celile?”

  In the light of the little table lamp, Ahmet’s face had taken on the cast of a stranger.

  Startled, as if from a deep sleep, Celile stared at her husband as if she were seeing him for the first time.

  While he had no inkling of the turmoil inside her. She gave him her usual impassive smile.

  “You’re looking a bit pale, Celile. You must be tired. It’s very late, after all.”

  Yes, she was tired. She longed to bury her head in her pillow, to close her eyes and breathe in the scent of lilac, feel the caress of a warm hand on her forehead and drift off into sleep.

  Nuri and Müjde were tired, too. They’d all had great fun, and a great deal to drink. They’d danced until the early hours.

  And now they could feel the first hints of a headache. They were ready to call it a night and head for bed.

  Except for Muhsin. What was he thinking? Was he tired?

  She couldn’t read his expression.

  Was he sad? Yes, perhaps.

  There were deep lines on his face, on either side of his mouth. From sleepless nights, perhaps.

  But his eyes…They were wakeful. Not a hint of fatigue in them.

  To the contrary. They bore down on Celile and her husband as fiercely as a wolf preparing to tear apart his prey.

  But he said nothing to delay them. Not a single word.

  As they left the table, the two women walked ahead.

  “I’m exhausted,” Müjde said. “It’s almost dawn, after all.”

  Celile started at her uncomprehendingly. Mechanically, she agreed.

  “Yes, you’re right. It’s almost dawn.”

  As they stepped into the second car, Ahmet turned to Muhsin with a smile.

  “My wife,” he said. “She usually can’t bear going out at night. She prefers to sit at home. But these days, she’s happy to stay out till dawn without once asking me to take her home!”

  Caught unawares, Celile lost her balance, only to be saved by Ahmet’s steadying arm.

  The beautiful evening was over. With a single remark, her husband had pulled her back into the void.

  Ahmet said no more. Nor was there any need. Had he brandished a talisman he could not have done more to break the spell. The dream was lost. The sparkling lights had vanished, taking with them the scent of lilacs.

  How strange to find herself sitting in the back of this car, between these two men. How strange her husband had been acting, all evening long.

  If she hadn’t felt so uneasy, she might have laughed it off. She decided her husband must be as drunk as she was. He was speaking now. Gabbling.

  “Yes, it’s a miracle,” he was saying. “And you, Muhsin Bey—you’re the miracle worker. That excursion in your yacht, these past two late nights. These were your doing. You’ve brought my homebody wife out of hiding. You’re introducing her to life.”

  As the nightclub lights paled beneath the lightening sky, Celile watched Muhsin watching her husband. She could not know what he was thinking, but the murderous contempt she saw in his eyes served only to diminish Ahmet in her own.

  This grieved her.

  No…No, this had not been a beautiful evening after all.

  In the space of a moment, it had ceased to be that childhood dream come true. She was back in the real world.

  Everything was real. To one side, her husband, who’d put on so much weight over the past two years; to the other side, this proud and haughty stranger.

  A stranger through and through. But only moments earlier, this young woman had wantonly given herself over to his strong embrace and his mad desires. She had welcomed his insolent suggestions, thrilled to his warm breath on her temples and her ears.

  So now, what did this stranger think of her and her husband?

  It was dark inside the car…

  It followed its headlights down the asphalt road.

  There she was, her heavy white-silk coat, sitting between these two men.

  On her left there was the dark sea, here and there reflecting the lights along the shore. Yes, all was dark.

  Again she was plunged in darkness, and again she had changed.

  Her thoughts darker than ever.

  On her right was her silent husband. He was entirely still, his fat arm wrapped around hers.

  On her left, Muhsin was also silent. Behind them, the lights of the nightclub were fading into the night sky, and with them the known world.

  She forgot the argument she’d been having with herself. Her mind was cleansed of remorse.

  And now, at this very moment, a feverish hand took hold of her left arm. Gently, very gently, Muhsin stroked her bare skin, which was as soft as velvet. As far up as her elbows, as far down as her slender wrists.

  And Celile’s mind went blank. It was as if she had forgotten that her husband was still holding her other arm.

  Once again, she surrendered to the thrill of a pleasure she had not known until tonight, while her heart basked in that long-lost tranquility.

  She wished that this road would never end, that the lights would never come back on again, that no one would ever utter another word, that nothing ever break this silence. But the car kept speeding down the road.

  While her heart sped just as fast, swirling downwards through a night lit by stars, hurtling through a luminous void into a chasm of divine light.

  Enflamed by pleasure, she felt her eyes closing. His hand traveled from her wrist to her hands, to explore once again her long and slender fingers.

  And now they were pressing their palms together, locking fingers, holding on for dear life.

  The car jolted to a stop. They’d reached home.

  The chauffeur turned on the interior light. With effort the two hands pulled apart, as Ahmet startled.

  “I’m all worn out!” he cried. “I almost fell asleep!” He opened his eyes as if he had only just woken up.

  He turned to beam at their host—did this husband of hers genuinely suspect nothing, or was this a cunning, shameless game?

  “I must be getting old!” he said cheerfully. “In the old days I could stay out all night and not feel tired in the least. And then we’d go straight into a match against some tough foreign squad and win! That’s how we’d spend the morning after. Remember Celile? I never got tired. The next day, it would be straight into work. Right on time, too…And feeling no pain. But these days, the office really wears me out. I keep running out of energy. I really have to keep an eye on myself.”

  He was just getting out of the car when he turned around, as if a thought had just occurred to him.

  “Speaking of offices, Muhsin Bey, that reminds me. I was going to stop by your office, wasn’t I? Not tomorrow, but the next day. Or was it the factory? Which one shall it be, sir?…My plan is to give you more details on this proposal I have for you. It’s an excellent prospect, as you’ll see. The only thing holding us back on our side is the bank guarantee. But now is not the time or the place. Let’s keep it for the office, the day after tomorrow. But for now, goodnight!”

  “Goodnight, Ahmet Efendi. I shall be expecting you.”

  Muhsin’s bored tone made his lack of enthusiasm clear, but because Ahmet did not wish to hear it, and Celile was entirely numb, neither noticed.

  And now Muhsin’s fevered lips were on her hand.

  “Let’s meet again soon, dear madam.”

  Celile must not have replied. Because the moment the car door slammed shut, leaving Celile alone with her husband on the pavement, Ahmet turned to her and said, “Oh, my little wife. Where are your manners? The man suggested meeting again soon, and you didn’t even bother to answer. Even though you know I have business with him the day after tomorrow
. You, with your refined manners. No currying favor for her ladyship. Money is no object. If she doesn’t like someone, she’s not about to pretend she does!”

  As her fevered eyes followed the car down the road, Celile felt the balm of a cool morning breeze on her burning forehead.

  As the car turned the corner, she felt a strange shudder in her heart. Muhsin had left. He was alone in his car now, his hand still aching from her wild caress, and Ahmet’s words ringing in his ears. Who could know what he’d really made of this evening? Of this man and this woman?

  Had it saddened him to leave alone in his car? Or, once alone, had he begun to loathe them?

  Muhsin had shown her husband up for a fool in that dark car. And she had played along. She could see this, but only for a moment, and then it was as if she had never felt remorse.

  He’d said he wished to meet again soon. This had not been a mere courtesy. It had not even been a request. It had been tantamount to a command. But when would they next meet, and where? At the end of all their previous nights out, they’d always made arrangements for their next meeting. But tonight they’d said goodbye with nothing planned, unless you counted that visit to the office.

  Ahmet was ringing the bell again and again to wake up the concierge. At last, a light came on inside.

  “Good thing I managed to wake her up!”

  Now an outside light came on. Inside, a shuffling of slippers, until a tiny slip of a woman appeared below the stairs. She had a black coat draped over her shoulders. Beneath was an orange blouse. She was young, with disheveled hair. She peered ahead, through curls that obscured most of her face.

  “Bravo, Mevlude Hanım! Fast asleep, were you?”

  The woman mumbled something, accepting Ahmet’s tip without a word of thanks. Before they were even through the door, she headed back under the stairs.

  Celile followed her husband into the elevator. Before pressing the button, he threw his arms around her.

  “My dear little wife,” he said. “We’re on our way at last! You wait and see! Muhsin likes me very much. He has full confidence in me. The crux of it is, he’s on the board of the bank, and if he doesn’t give me a letter of guarantee now, I’ll cut off my own two hands. But there’s no danger of that, my little wife. No more two-bit schemes for us. We’re hitting the big time! As you would know, if you’d ever been a contractor.”

  “I’m awfully tired. Could you press the button?”

  The elevator clanked into motion as Ahmet prattled on.

  “Didn’t you see the Şükranzades? But really, how could you have? You wouldn’t know them even if you did…After all, I didn’t point them out to you. Last time they knocked me out of the game, it was over that rubber deal. But this time I’ll show them what’s what! When he saw us with Muhsin—well, you should have seen the scoundrel’s face. He almost choked on his food! Do you know what it means to me to have Muhsin as my backer? Do you have any idea? It means I count for something. It means success and riches and a bright future!…You wait and see what it does for us, from here on in. While you were dancing with Nuri, I gave Muhsin a quick run-through of my proposal. Just the bare bones. What a splendid fellow. He gave me his full attention…He has great confidence in me. He likes me—I can tell.”

  As he closed the elevator gate behind himself, he added: “If I don’t win this tender, I’ll eat my hat. The Şükranzades will be knocked sideways. Stunned as a shipload of pilgrims. It’s fifty days now they’ve been sending Nazmi to Ankara. Back and forth, back and forth. But I have big plans. And once I have Muhsin’s backing…But you were marvelous tonight. Oh, my darling. You might have been royalty. You wait and see—one of these days you’ll be the best-dressed woman in the city!”

  They walked into the bedroom.

  “You need to know how proud of you I am. Next to you, Müjde looked like a servant girl. And they say she spent all that time studying in Europe. I just can’t understand it. That Nuri’s no different, though, is he? He can’t even tie a tie right. But this new tuxedo of mine—it suits me well, doesn’t it? That’s one hell of a tailor. He’s almost succeeded in making me look thin.”

  Celile reached for the light switch. Ahmet moved towards the wardrobe mirror to admire himself in the reflection.

  “Oh, my queen. My darling wife. No monarch in this world could kiss the ground you stand on. I can’t begin to tell you what pleasure it gives me to show you off. It wasn’t like this before. I didn’t dare take you out. I wasn’t important enough. You’re the jewel in my crown, my darling wife. You’re my life. I live for you, and only for you. I work for you. For the wealth and prosperity you deserve. All I want is to be the one to bring you that fortune. Believe me, Celile. Everything I want, I want for you.”

  Celile had taken off her white coat and thrown it across a chair. Even though she always, always, put her clothes away neatly after a night out, no matter how tired she was.

  “If ever there was a woman who deserved these thousands and millions I’m going to make, it’s you. Even though you never imagined I would become an entrepreneur on this scale!…Those worthless Şükranzades…When they cut me out of that rubber deal, they acted as if it had been theirs all along. That firm of theirs dates back to their grandfather, you see. Apparently that made them the big experts. They swan around as if commerce were something they could pass on from father to son, like a kingdom…They all had to go into business. A bank manager at thirty-three, and a factory owner at thirty-three and a half. As if commerce was their personal property!”

  This man is definitely drunk, Celile thought. She had never heard such nonsense.

  “After that rubber business, they thought I’d never recover. But now they’ll see…This evening, when I was coming back from the dance floor with Müjde and we passed their table, do you know what they said? ‘Oooooh, Ahmet Bey, such a long time since we’ve seen you!’ When they find out what I have going with Muhsin, they’ll split their sides. Not that I’ll tell them myself. The day I rake in two hundred thousand lira…”

  Only now did he realize that his wife wasn’t listening to him.

  “Don’t you believe me? That’s the kind of profit we’re looking at…This is one sweetheart of a deal.”

  A two-hundred-thousand-lira profit! Even he could not believe it. Ahmet had always been a fantasist. But over the past few years, opportunities had come his way that made his fantasies seem within reach. And then, you couldn’t ascribe it all to luck. As he liked to tell himself: “Thing is, I’m a shrewd businessman.” But was he? Certainly, it was possible. There was no doubt about one thing, at least: he had set his mind on getting rich. And these new ventures of his had real potential. If only he had more capital…Of course, there were plenty of ways a man like him could get ahead if he had no other aim in life but to get rich. But to make serious money, you needed serious investment. The big deals were beyond him, except in his dreams.

  The deal he was discussing with Muhsin would only bring a profit of fifty thousand. But to enter into discussions with a business partner like Muhsin, you had to talk in hundreds of thousands, or so he believed. And perhaps he was right. But to press his case it wasn’t just Muhsin he had to convince—he also had to convince himself.

  A fifty-thousand-lira profit! Even this was a colossal sum for Ahmet. From the moment he’d sold the Samsun tobacco depot he’d inherited from his uncle and left his job at the bank to go into business, he’d never made a profit over ten thousand.

  And even that had been rare.

  The first time he’d hit ten thousand, he’d been so happy and so proud.

  But no matter what he brought home—be it a thousand or two thousand or ten—Celile had shown no pleasure. And now, as her husband spoke of a two-hundred-thousand-lira profit, she was again silent. As always, she met her husband’s money talk with supreme indifference, but Ahmet could also see that this time she hadn’t even been listeni
ng.

  Until tonight, she had at least pretended to listen, if only to humor him, if only now and again.

  Ahmet gave his wife a sharp glance. She must be exhausted, he thought. She didn’t like these long nights at clubs. She had, after all, consented to staying out this late just to please him, just so that he could cement this new friendship with Muhsin. Poor little thing, how pale she was. Her eyes were glazed, as if she had fallen ill.

  “What’s wrong, Celile? Are you coming down with something?”

  Celile did not seem to have heard him. He asked again.

  “My poor little thing. What’s wrong? Are you feeling ill?”

  “No, not at all! I’m fine. I’m just tired.”

  She was standing in front of the mirror, stripping off her clothes.

  All she wanted was to fall into bed, stretch out under the sheets, shut her eyes, and drift back into her own world.

  In ten years of marriage, her husband had not looked as strange to her as he did at this moment; no matter what her mood, she had never wished to recoil like this from his presence; since the day of their wedding, they had got along so well that she had come to think of him as an extension of her own body. She had never seen him as separate, or herself in the company of another, nor had she ever imagined she would one day have thoughts she could hide from him. But now, in this bedroom where she had always felt at one with her husband, she was suddenly aware that he inhabited another body. It amazed her to find herself awash with thoughts she could not share with this stranger, things she could never say. She felt like running far, far away. She wanted to be alone. She needed to be alone; she could not, despite the force of habit, find the courage to look at herself in the mirror as she stripped. She was afraid of seeing the everyday Celile, the Celile of yesterday.

  The Celile of yesterday…

  Good heavens, how different she was now from that other woman who had once inhabited her body! Now that she was in the grip of this new self, how was she to find the courage to stand before the Celile of yesterday?

  “Come over here, darling wife. Let me take off your stockings!”