The Snake Stone

55

“Suela, will you tell your mother something? Tell her that my name is Yashim. I am a lala.”

A guardian: he hoped that Mrs. Xani would understand. The ordinary eunuchs of Istanbul, the lala, served in families: they acted as chaperones, protectors, messengers, and mediators.

The girl nodded as if she understood, but when she spoke in Albanian her mother shook her head hopelessly.

“Tell her that I want to find your father.”

Suela’s eyes widened for a moment. She looked as if she were about to cry, but instead she bowed her head and murmured something in Albanian. Her mother raised her red-rimmed eyes and looked sadly at Yashim.

Xani received a salary of forty piastres a month, far more than he had earned as a porter. He had come to Istanbul fourteen years before: he had sold his land in Albania to his brother because it was not enough to keep a family. No, there was no bad blood between them; the brother had supported their marriage, twelve years ago. Both parents were dead. She had a mother living, who had been pleased with the match.

“So the family have no enemies in their village? No feud?”

The woman spoke. Suela said: “When Shpetin was a baby we went to the village. We went in a boat. It was very far.”

“Where did you stay?”

“At my uncle’s house. I have four cousins, two boys and two girls. I like the girls very much. We played every day.”

“And here you have Shpetin to play with.”

Suela nodded doubtfully. Shpetin was six; Suela was growing too old for little boys’ games, perhaps. Yashim pressed on. “Do you have family in Istanbul?”

“My father’s uncle was here, but he was old and he died. My father was-he-was very sad.”

Yashim sat back, keeping his eyes on the ground. Instinct told him that Xani’s disappearance had nothing to do with the family: it was entangled, somehow, in events in the city, in the debt. “I want to ask your mother, has anyone been to see you in the last few days? Anyone asking for money?”

But nobody had.

“And in his work-your father is happy?”

“My mother says he is happy. He is proud to be a waterman. I think-I think he works very hard.”

“I am sure. Your mother-she doesn’t know where he might have gone?”

Suela gave her mother a frightened glance. “No.”

“Friends?”

The girl looked uncertain. She repeated the question to her mother, who merely shook her head and looked sadly again at Yashim. “Istanbul,” she whispered.

“My father and mother do not have friends in Istanbul,” Suela explained quietly.

Yashim pulled at his lip. “You say he liked his job, and he worked hard. Did he work the same hours every day?”

Suela screwed up her face, to remember. “In the beginning, he was always at home for supper. But he stayed at work very late, before he-he…” Her lip trembled.

“I understand,” Yashim said quickly. “Every evening, or just sometimes?”

“Just sometimes.” Suela turned to her mother. The two spoke together for several minutes. When Suela turned to Yashim her chin was tilted.

“My mother says that he stayed out quite late three times last week.”

“Do you know why?”

Mrs. Xani cast her eyes vaguely around the room. “My mother,” Suela translated eventually, “says that they had problems with the water.”

“Yes,” said Yashim slowly. “Yes, I think there have been some difficulties.”

He got up. He wanted to add, Your debt is paid. But the words stuck in his throat, as if they carried a meaning that no one wanted to hear.