‘mustafa said you were.’
The screen was blank.
‘you talked to mustafa?’
‘he came and sat with me at the Çinili restaurant. we had lunch together.’
‘he wants to get to know you. what did he say about me?’
‘he’s roasting a lamb on his farm this weekend. he said you were coming. i was surprised. you never told me you were going.’
‘well i’m not. he sent me a message about it, asking me to come, and i’ll try.’
‘then i suppose he assumed you were going.’
‘he only hears what he wants to. he’s got a special talent for that. what else did he say about me?’
‘nothing. but then he did say you went to the same university.’
‘anything else?’
‘no.’
‘what did he want from you?’
‘he’d read my books. wanted to get to know me.’
‘where did he find them?’
‘i assume he ordered them.’
‘so he saw us together and had someone look into you … be careful, he’s dangerous.’
‘we talked about books. he likes reading. we had a nice lunch.’
‘he’s well read. he actually reads a lot. knows a lot too. history, philosophy. and he can be nice when he wants to be. but that’s just what’s dangerous about him. i could never tell who was the real mustafa. was it that bright and loveable man or that rude and savage one … did he say anything else about me?’
‘no he didn’t.’
‘he was trying to lower your guard, get you to talk … he’s crafty.’
‘he asked me where we met.’
‘what did you say?’
‘on the plane.’
‘and what did he say?’
‘nothing.’
‘he’ll check at the airport to see if it’s true … he’s trying to work out if there’s anything between us … he’s jealous … i’ve never met anyone so jealous … but he never shows it.’
‘if he doesn’t then how do you know he is?’
‘he’s doesn’t let on right away but he gives me hell later … it went on like that for years … at first i never knew why he was angry. then i made the connection. the more he upset me the more i made him jealous. we destroyed each other.’
‘why was he so jealous?’
‘i didn’t have to do much. if i wore something sexy when we went out or if I smiled at a man he would go mad. on the way home he would start an argument with me about something … he would say i was acting like a whore. he was more in love with me before. then somehow he got over me and i fell in love with him.’
‘he doesn’t seem to be over you. look at the way he’s looking into me. he’s read my books. still checking up on you. then he has lunch with me.’
‘he’s not in love with me but we were lovers for a while. now he acts like he still owns me.’
‘you’re exaggerating. he doesn’t seem like that kind of guy.’
‘so one lunch and you know the man i’m in love with better than I do?’
‘maybe.’
‘he’s bright. he can seem however he wants to seem.’
‘is he that bright?’
‘very. brightest person i know.’
‘if he’s so bright then why is he the mayor of a little town and not doing something else?’
‘why should he? he’s the sultan here. no one can challenge him. you should see the gangsters who hang out with him. they don’t even look him in the eye when they talk to him. he was offered a seat in parliament several times but he never wanted it.’
‘why?’
‘I’m in charge here, he says, why should I go and serve someone else?’
‘bright.’
‘like i said.’
‘so no one can challenge him?’
‘something would happen to anyone who did … he’d have them arrested for drugs, or shot, or he’d catch them with someone and create a scandal. he’s got eyes and ears everywhere. knows everything. can do whatever he wants.’
‘does he have ties to the police?’
‘have you seen the police chief’s mercedes?’
‘no.’
‘you will. he goes to crime scenes in it.’
‘doesn’t anyone complain?’
‘no one wants any trouble. what can they say? he’s the sultan of the land. you should be careful.’
‘we had a nice chat. no animosity.’
‘he doesn’t have any friends. too proud.’
‘he was polite enough to me.’
‘he knows how to be. he’s from a good family. his mother was quite the lady. then she got ill. she raised him well but he’s a black sheep. takes after his father.’
‘doesn’t sound like a man you’re really in love with.’
‘i love him despite everything i know. that’s the problem. i know he’s the last person i should be in love with. but i am. i’m pitiful. an idiot. are you bored of me?’
‘no.’
‘why not?’
‘i suppose because you’re beautiful.’
‘i’m not. he says that too but I don’t think I am.’
‘but you are.’
‘all right, let’s say that i am. is that enough?’
‘it is.’
‘really?’
‘really.’
