The Winter Thief

99

The six oarsmen pulled in unison, sending the caïque skimming over the water north to Sariyer. Kamil and Huseyin sat in the bow deep in conversation, while Elif and Feride and her daughters nestled on a platform of carpets and cushions in the stern under a velvet awning that kept out the wind. Another boat followed with their luggage, but Elif had insisted on keeping her painting materials with her. Her boxes, canvases, and the easel filled most of the space. The two women sat close together, Elif’s head resting on Feride’s shoulder. Her eyes were closed and she seemed to be asleep. Alev and Yasemin trailed ribbons in the water.

Feride’s eyes focused on Huseyin with a greed and desire that shocked her. She had always prided herself on keeping an even keel, while others rocked the boat around her. Now that she felt herself coming frighteningly alive, Huseyin seemed to recede from her in equal measure. At the summerhouse, she was determined, they would find each other again.

When the yali came into view, she roused Elif. They excitedly commented on its attributes, pointing out to each other the peaked gables, the balconies traced in lacelike fretwork, the tower, and the terrace right on the water.

“I wonder what plants are in the garden. It will be wonderful to draw them, like the gardens in France.” Elif’s eyes were crystal-clear ponds.

“Kamil will be able to tell us, no doubt,” Feride responded, feeling suddenly chilled and wrapping her cloak more tightly around her shoulders. The women, with the twins, planned to spend the spring and summer at the yali, Kamil visiting on weekends.

They disembarked, Kamil helping Huseyin climb from the boat. Yakup, his mother, Karanfil, and some other servants from both households had come ahead. The servants helped the women and children ashore and carried their belongings to the house.

Doctor Moreno was to come up the following week with the paperwork for the foundation Feride was setting up to support the Eyüp Mosque hospital and fund a new children’s wing. Kamil was bringing an Austrian nun, Sister Hildegard, who had some ideas for establishing a children’s hospital in Galata.

To Feride’s surprise, Huseyin had been interested in her new project and pledged a considerable amount to supplement her own portion. She had seen the pleasure in his eyes when she told him what she planned to do. There had also been pride. Then he had kissed her cheek and gone to his own bedroom that night, as on all the other nights since his return.

Their entry into the new summerhouse was festive and full of laughter. Elif, Feride, and the girls dashed into rooms and leaned from windows, giddy with delight. The men watched them, bemused, but Feride could tell that they too were bewitched by the light reflected from the strait through the tall windows and the charm of the place.

She saw Kamil join Elif on the balcony overlooking the garden and put his hand on the small of her back. Elif stepped closer until her body touched his, yet she remained distinct, straight-backed. Feride wondered what the relationship was between Kamil and Elif. She knew that they had been intimate with each another before they left for the east. The thought pleased her but also made her uneasy. Kamil had never been interested in marriage. Would he marry Elif now? And she was no longer sure whether Elif, so unpredictable and sometimes so frighteningly violent, would be the ideal partner for her brother. Elif was saying something to Kamil and pointing. Feride wondered what had happened between them in the east. It was as if their connection had snapped apart and been replaced by a different kind of understanding. They were always together, yet she sensed that their pleasure in each other was restrained by wariness.

Feride turned and caught Huseyin looking at her, and before he could look away, she winked at him inexpertly and stretched out her arms.