The Strange Journey of Alice Pendelbury

by Marc Levy

  “It seemed to me the best opportunity to put some distance between her and her flat. Now we have to find a way to keep her here.”

  “You don’t believe in fortune-telling?” asked Can.

  “I’m too educated to give such things any credence,” said Daldry. “To be honest, I don’t think I’ve ever even asked myself the question. But at a pinch, why not? I like the idea of giving destiny a nudge in the right direction.”

  “You are making much ado about nothing. Excuse me for saying this, but you only have to offer an astronomically correct bribe and the young lady will not refuse to leave. Everything has a price. I know this.”

  “I know it’s hard to believe, but money isn’t very important to her. She’s not a particularly covetous person. Neither am I, to be quite honest.”

  “You are not trying to make a profit with this apartment?”

  “Not at all. This isn’t a question of money. Like I told you, I’m a painter. The flat she lives in has a magnificent skylight and the light is incomparable. I want to turn it into my studio.”

  “There are no other apartments like this in a big city like London? I know many here in Istanbul. There are even some overlooking an intersection on the street.”

  “Well, it’s the only flat like it in the house that I currently live in. My house, my street, my neighborhood, you understand? I don’t want to move.”

  “I don’t understand. You are making business in London. Why do you come all the way to Istanbul to engage me?”

  “So that you find me an honest, intelligent single man capable of seducing the woman I’ve told you about. If she falls in love, she may very well stay here and, according to our agreement, as long as she’s here, I can use her flat as my studio. You see? It’s not so complicated, really. I just want to keep her over here.”

  “By which you mean to say it is very complicated.”

  “Do you think it would be possible to get a cup of tea, some toast, and some scrambled eggs, or do I have to fly back to London for a proper breakfast?”

  Can got up and talked to the waiter.

  “This is the last free service I am favoring you. Your victim is the woman who was in your entourage when you left the bar last night?”

  “Already blowing things out of proportion! She’s hardly my victim. I’m doing her a great service.”

  “By manipulating her life and sending her into the harm of a man you pay me that I must find? If that is your estimate of honesty, I will be constrained to raise my price and ask for a payment in the front. There will be costs to find such a rare pearl.”

  “What kind of costs?”

  “Costs. Tell me, what is attracting this woman?”

  “Good question. If you mean to ask what sort of man she prefers, I’m afraid I still don’t know. I suppose I could try to find out. In the meantime, so as not to waste any time, just concentrate on finding somebody who seems to be the complete opposite of myself. But let’s get down to brass tacks and talk about what you need from me.”

  “I am not needing brass tacks.”

  “I was talking about your pay.”

  Can sized Daldry up and took a pencil from his jacket pocket. He ripped a corner from the paper tablecloth, scribbled a figure on it, and slid it across the table to Daldry. He glanced at it and pushed it back to Can.

  “You’re dreaming.”

  “What you ask is bigger than normal services.”

  “Let’s not exaggerate.”

  “You say money is no matter for you, but you deal like a carpet seller.”

  Daldry picked up the scrap of paper and considered it a second time. Muttering under his breath, he slipped it back in his pocket and extended his hand to Can.

  “Fine. But I’ll only pay your fees if you get results.”

  “Deal is deal,” said Can, shaking Daldry’s hand. “I will find you a very nice man. But we have to wait for the right time. If I am understanding you, we must make other meetings before the prediction is granted.”

  The waiter brought Daldry his long-awaited breakfast.

  “This is more like it,” he said, greedily eying the scrambled eggs. “You’re hired. I’ll introduce you to the young lady in question as our guide and interpreter later today.”

  “That is the title of my person,” said Can with a broad smile. He got up to leave and said goodbye. On his way out, he turned around and came back to the table, where Daldry was wolfing down breakfast.

  “Maybe you are paying me for nothing. Maybe the woman does have strong fortune-telling powers and you are making a mistake in contesting them.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “Because I am a man who practices honesty. Maybe I am just number two of the six people the woman talked about. Maybe destiny decided our paths to cross.”

  Can turned and left. Daldry watched him cross the street and board a tram. He thought about what Can had said before pushing away his plate and paying the bill.

  Daldry decided to return to the hotel on foot. When he arrived, Alice was waiting for him in the bar, reading a magazine.

  “Where have you been?” she asked when she looked up and saw him. “I called your room and you didn’t pick up. The man at the front desk finally told me you had gone out. You might have left me a note. I was beginning to worry.”

  “That’s touching—I just went for a walk. I felt like getting some fresh air and I didn’t want to wake you.”

  “I hardly slept at all last night. Go on and order something. I want to talk to you.”

  “Perfect. I’m thirsty and I also have something I want to tell you.”

  “You first,” said Alice.

  “No. You first. Oh, very well; me first. I thought about what you said last night, and I decided to go ahead and hire the guide, as you suggested.”

  “I suggested the exact opposite,” said Alice.

  “That’s strange, I must have misunderstood. Well, it doesn’t matter now. The main thing is that we’ll save a lot of time with his help. There isn’t much point in going out into the countryside to search for flowers now because it isn’t the right season. But a guide could take you to meet the best perfume makers in the city. Perhaps discovering the work of others will help inspire you.”

  Alice suddenly felt indebted to Daldry for having gone to so much trouble on her behalf.

  “Well, since you put it that way, yes, I suppose hiring a guide is a good idea.”

  “I’m thrilled to hear you say so. I’ll ask the concierge to set up an appointment with him for early this afternoon. And you? You wanted to tell me something?”

  “Oh, nothing important, now that I think about it,” said Alice.

  “Is it your bed? My mattress is much too soft. It makes me feel like I’m sinking into a slab of warm butter. We can ask to change rooms.”

  “No, the bed is fine.”

  “The nightmares again?”

  Alice decided to lie. “No, it’s not that either, luckily. I think it’s just the disorientation of being in a foreign country. I’m sure I’ll get used to it soon.”

  “You ought to try to get some rest if you didn’t sleep. If all goes well, we’ll begin our search this afternoon, and you’ll need your energy.”

  Alice had another idea in mind. She asked Daldry if, in the time before their guide came to the hotel, they might return to the street into which they had wandered the previous night.

  “I don’t know if we’ll be able to find it, but we can always try.”

  Alice, however, remembered the route perfectly. Once they had left the hotel, she led the way without a moment’s hesitation.

  “Here we are,” she said, pointing at the imposing konak that marked the end of the side street. Its second floor jutted out precariously overhead.

  Something about the place spurred Daldry to tell Alice a story. “When I was a child,” he said, “I used to look up at houses and dream about what was going on behind their walls. I don’t know why, but the lives of other
people fascinated me much more back then. I used to wonder if they were like mine, and I would try to imagine what the other children my age did every day, playing and living in the houses that were the center of their lives. If I looked up at the same houses at night, I’d see the windows lit from inside and imagine dinners, parties . . . I can’t help but wonder why this old house is in such a sorry state today. I wonder who lived here and why they deserted it.”

  “I did the same thing when I was young,” said Alice. “There was a couple in the building across the street from where we lived that I used to watch from my bedroom window. The husband always got home around six in the evening, when I was supposed to be doing my homework. He would walk into the living room, take off his coat and hat, and collapse into an armchair. His wife would bring him a drink and take his coat and his hat. He would open his newspaper, and usually he was still reading it when I was called for supper. When I returned to my room after dinner, the curtains across the street were always drawn. I remember hating the man for taking the drink from his wife without saying anything.

  “One day, when I was walking in the street with my mother, I saw him walking toward us. The closer he got, the harder my heart pounded. He even slowed down and greeted us as he passed. He smiled at me, and I was sure he was thinking, ‘So you’re the cheeky little girl that spies on me from her bedroom window every evening. Don’t think I’m not onto you!’ I was sure he was about to say something in front of my mother, so I pretended not to see him and pulled my mother’s hand to hurry her along. She lectured me for being impolite. I asked her if she knew the man, and she pointed out that he ran the grocer’s shop on the corner, a shop I walked past every day. The girl behind the counter was his daughter, said my mother, and she had taken care of him ever since his wife had died. You can imagine how confusing it was. And I thought I was the queen of the spies!”

  “Imagination and reality are often incompatible,” observed Daldry as they continued down the narrow street. “For a long time, I was convinced that the parlor maid that worked for our family had a soft spot for me. You can imagine my surprise when I found out she was in love with my older sister. My sister wrote poems to her. They were madly in love, it turns out, and they managed to hide it for a long time. The maid only pretended to dote on me to distract my mother from the truth.”

  “Your sister loves other women?”

  “Yes, and although most people aren’t comfortable with the idea, I long ago decided that it was better than loving nobody at all. But enough storytelling. Shall we see if we can find your steps?”

  Alice led the way. The old wooden houses loomed threateningly, like sentinels guarding against intruders. They reached the end of the street, but found no flight of steps. Alice said that none of it reminded her of her nightmare anymore.

  “I’m sorry. This was a waste of time.”

  “Not at all. This little stroll has put me in a good mood and worked up my appetite. I noticed a little café along the way that seemed much more authentic than the hotel dining room. You don’t have anything against branching out and eating in more local sorts of places, do you?”

  “Quite the contrary.” Alice took Daldry’s arm and they turned back.

  The café was thronged with customers, and a thick haze of cigarette smoke made it almost impossible to see the back of the room. Daldry and Alice wove through the crowd of regulars, and he managed to find them a little table. Over the course of their meal they told each other more stories about their childhoods. Daldry had grown up the middle child between his brother and sister, and his family had always been well-off, whereas Alice was an only child and came from a more modest background. Both of them remembered their childhood as a lonely time, but they saw their past solitude as having nothing to do with the love they had received, and more to do with their natural state of mind. They both loved rainy days but hated the winter. They had both daydreamed in school, met their first loves in summertime, and suffered their first heartbreaks at the beginning of autumn. Daldry had always more or less hated his father, whereas Alice had idolized hers. Now, in January 1951, Alice encouraged Daldry to try his first Turkish coffee, and Daldry was inspecting the bottom of his cup.

  “It’s a custom here to read the future in coffee grounds. I wonder what yours would tell us,” he said.

  “We could consult an expert and see if their predictions correspond with those of the woman in Brighton.” Alice was in a pensive mood.

  Daldry glanced at his watch. “Perhaps another time. We had better get back to the hotel if we don’t want to be late for our meeting with the guide.”

  Can was waiting for them in the lobby when they arrived. Daldry made the introductions.

  “You are, madam, even more admirable from near than from afar,” said Can, bowing deeply and blushing as he kissed her hand.

  “I suppose that’s better than the contrary,” she said.

  “It certainly is,” said Daldry. He was visibly irritated by Can’s directness.

  “Excuse me, please, madam,” said Can. “I did not mean to annoy you. It is just that you are, inevitably, more ravishing in the daylight.”

  “We get the idea,” said Daldry.

  “Of course, Your Excellency.” Can stumbled over his words.

  Alice interjected, doing her best to smooth things over. “Daldry tells me that you’re the best guide in Istanbul.”

  “That is exactly true,” said Can. “And I am at your entire disposition.”

  “And also the best interpreter?”

  “Also,” said Can, his face flushing scarlet for the second time.

  Alice couldn’t help but giggle.

  “Well, I can tell we won’t be bored in your company. You seem very nice. Let’s take a seat in the bar and we’ll tell you about what brings us to Istanbul.”

  After listening to Alice tell him about her plans, Can told her how he could help. “I can take you to meet the perfume makers of Istanbul. They are not many, but they are perfectly excellent in their domain. If you stay in Istanbul until the beginning of spring, I can also take you to the countryside, where we have extraordinarily splendid rosebushes. The hill country welcomes fig trees, lindens, jasmine . . .”

  “I doubt we’ll stay that long,” said Alice.

  “Don’t say that. Who knows what the future will give you?” said Can.

  Daldry gave him a discreet kick in the shin under the table, and Can turned and glared at him. “I need the afternoon to prepare these introductions,” continued Can. “I will execute a few telephone calls and I can come for you on this very spot tomorrow morning.”

  “I’m thrilled to hear it. Thank you so much,” Alice said, shaking Can’s hand.

  Alice felt like a little girl waiting to open her presents on Christmas morning. The very idea of meeting her fellow perfume makers and studying how they worked in Turkey had made her forget about wanting to leave.

  Can rose to his feet, and Daldry accompanied him into the lobby, leaving Alice in the bar to finish her tea.

  “My tariffs have just had an augmentation!”

  “What on earth for? We agreed on your price.”

  “That was before receiving your footy fury upon my leg. Because of you, I will have a limp tomorrow, which will make me late.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. I barely touched you. And if I did anything at all, it was to shut you up before you made a blunder.”

  Can looked hurt.

  “Fine,” said Daldry. “I’m sorry. I apologize if I hurt you, but at the time it seemed necessary. But you must admit you were handling the whole thing very clumsily.”

  “I will not augment my tariff, but only because your friend is of a very great ravishment, which makes my work pleasanter.”

  “What on earth do you mean by that?”

  “That in one day I could easily find a hundred men who would happily beguile her.”

  Can said goodbye and left through the revolving door. Daldry returned to the bar, where Alice w
as waiting.

  “What did the two of you talk about just now?”

  “Nothing important. His remuneration.”

  “I expect you to keep a careful account of your expenses, Daldry. The hotel, our meals, the guide, and the cost of our travel of course. I’m going to reimburse—”

  “Every shilling. I remember, you’ve repeated it often enough. But I’m afraid that when we dine or drink together, you’re my guest. It’s one thing for us to be business partners, but it’s another thing for me to conduct myself like a gentleman, and I refuse to stop doing so now. Speaking of which, how about a drink to celebrate?”

  “To celebrate what?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Do you always have to have a reason? I’m thirsty. Let’s celebrate the fact that we finally hired our guide.”

  “It’s a bit early in the day for me. I think I’ll go and lie down. I didn’t sleep very well last night, you know.”

  Alice left Daldry in the bar. He watched her take the lift up to her room and ordered a double Scotch.

  A small rowing boat rocked on the water at the edge of a dock. Alice climbed aboard and sat at one end. A man untied the rope from the piling and pushed off. The dock disappeared into the distance. Alice tried to understand why the world was the way it was, why the tops of the tall pine trees seemed to close on the black of the night like a final curtain falling upon her past.

  The current was strong, and the boat pitched dangerously when it crossed the wakes of larger ships that churned up the water as they passed. Alice braced herself, pushing her feet against the planks on the bottom of the boat. She couldn’t reach to hold on to the gunwales. The smuggler sat in front of her, with his back turned to her, but every time the little boat plunged or reared, she felt a reassuring presence holding her and calming her.

  A wind blew up from the north and scattered the clouds. The moonlight seemed to emerge from the depths of the water.

  The man steered the boat to the shore, jumped out into the shallow water, and pulled it up onto the bank.

  Alice climbed a hill planted with cypress trees and continued down the other side into a shadowy valley. She walked along a dirt path in the cool autumn night. The descent was steep and sometimes she had to hold on to the bushes around her, but she kept her eyes on a little light twinkling in the distance.