Divorce Turkish Style by Esmahan Aykol Read Free Book Online Page B

eyes?
    â€œDon’t be silly, Fofo. We’re not in competition. We’re a team.”
    Was that convincing, I wondered?
    Sevim and Fofo had agreed to meet at Simit Sarayı in Taksim Square at five o’clock. It was a five-storey building selling simit s and other pastries, and was frequented by all sorts of people, mostly from Istanbul’s outlying suburbs. I’d never set foot in the place before. It wasn’t my sort of thing, but lots of these eating “palaces” had sprung up in Istanbul recently. In the old days, of course, simit s were baked in brick ovens, piled on to trays and sold cheaply in the street.
    I’d been to an identical Simit Sarayı in Kottbusser Tor on my last visit to Berlin. It had been Christmas time, and nowhere else was open. I couldn’t speak for other cities in Germany, but the Turks who settled in Berlin had shown great enterprise in the field of gastronomy by bringing with them native specialities like doner kebabs, simit s, nuts, dried fruits and jacket potatoes to sell alongside their halal versions of pork-based Berlin specialities like currywurst .
    I’d just started to worry that I might not recognize Sevim among the crowds in Simit Sarayı, but relaxed when I saw adrably dressed woman approaching me with the glee of someone greeting a close relative. Maybe I’d been too hungry or my mind had been completely occupied with Sani, but I suddenly realized I’d paid no attention whatsoever to Sevim the previous day. I certainly hadn’t remembered how unprepossessing she looked.
    Before making our way to the non-smoking area on the third floor, we went up to the self-service bar and bought ourselves tea and stodgy orange-flavoured cookies of the sort that were only edible if dunked. I’ve already mentioned that I’d given up smoking, haven’t I? I wasn’t yet an anti-smoking fanatic, but preferred to sit in a smoke-free environment if possible. However, I refused to acknowledge Fofo’s claims that I was just trying to avoid remembering my happy days as a smoker.
    â€œWe didn’t get the chance to speak much yesterday, but I wanted to ask you a few questions, Sevim Hanım.”
    â€œI’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”
    â€œKati.”
    â€œKati Hanım, first let me say something. You might not believe this, but I couldn’t sleep a wink last night. I spent the whole night tossing and turning, wondering how to get hold of you. I felt so much better after your friend phoned. I have the feeling that when you talked about becoming a member of GreTur, it was just an excuse to come to the office. Am I right?”
    Should I have been humbled by this woman’s ability to see through my stupid ruse?
    â€œYou could say that,” I said. “But I do care about the environment, and I support projects like that.”
    I was being truthful. For instance, I avoided buying gold on the grounds that cyanide is frequently used to separate it from the ore.
    â€œYou said yesterday that Sani Hanım had been killed,” said Sevim. “Were you at the funeral? It was so crowded that it was impossible to see who was there and who wasn’t, but I don’t think I saw you.”
    I shook my head, indicating that I hadn’t been there.
    â€œAt the funeral they said that Sani Hanım died in an accident. I checked the papers and they said it was an accident as well. I was very upset when you said yesterday that she’d been killed.”
    â€œLook, I only said it was a possibility. That might not be the case at all.”
    I suddenly realized that, all the time I’d been referring to Sani’s death, I’d no idea how the poor woman died.
    â€œWhat kind of accident did they say it was at the funeral?”
    â€œThey said that she fell over.”
    â€œFell?”
    â€œYes. It’s tragic, isn’t it? She caught her foot and slipped. Fell over. She probably