Read Farewell: A Mansion in Occupied Istanbul (Turkish Literature) for Free Online Page B

warm.”
    “Yes, Sir,” said Mehpare. But what she hadn’t said was that the medicines weren’t always available, that they had difficulty obtaining meat, that they were dependent upon the parcels of cereal and grain that Behice’s father sent from Beypazarı.
    “Go on now, Mehpare. Go downstairs and prepare us two cups of strong coffee,” Kemal said.
    “What’s happening out there, tell me quick!” he asked Mahir the moment the girl closed the door behind her.
    Drawing his chair up to the bed, Mahir spoke in a whisper. “The Underground hasn’t been idle, Kemal. They assembled last night, at Tikve ş li Farm. There have been critical developments. We need information from inside the Palace.”
    “But isn’t that just what the Sultan’s consort has been providing?”
    “She isn’t privy to Cabinet meetings. Only to the harem. Is your uncle so very uncommunicative?”
    “What do you want to know?”
    “We’d save precious time if we had the inventories and locations of munitions and other war materials.”
    “Only to the Minister of War has that information.”
    “The Finance Ministry must know as well. They’ve been selling scrap weapons.”
    “I’ll feel my uncle out as best I can. He thinks I’ve been too sick to get involved in any of this. He may tell me something.”
    “Ah Kemal, if only he’d join us. He’d be such an invaluable addition to the cause!”
    “Mahir, my uncle is absolutely loyal to the Sultan. He’d never betray him.”
    “Your uncle has every reason to believe he’s on the side of right. No one expects us to succeed.”
    “But what else can we do? However long the odds, we have to try, don’t we?”
    “Plenty of people believe that the Anatolian resistance is being led by former CUP partisans. And everyone’s fed up with them. When you consider the fiasco that was Sarıkamı ş , who would follow them now? In reality, of course, the resistance leader, Mustafa Kemal Pasha, is as despised by them as he is by the Sultan. Unfortunately, this is known only to a few.”
    “They haven’t disappeared, Mahir. I’ve heard that some former CUP supporters even hold positions of responsibility at Karakol. Is that true?”
    “It is. We have no choice but to employ experienced hands. Not that they should necessarily be judged by their past support for CUP. Don’t forget, you were one of them once.”
    “For goodness sake, don’t remind me.”
    “You see? Ideas change along with leaders. Of course there are a few of the old guard among the Turkish Nationalists. But now they’re . . .”
    “Nationalists.”
    “It rolls off the tongue, doesn’t it? Nationalist .”
    “It rolls off the heart, as well. I vowed to sacrifice all for this cause. I’m prepared to do whatever you ask the very moment I’m healthy enough to do it.”
    “You’d better get well first. And let me know everything your uncle says.”
    “Are they still staying at the farm?”
    “No, the farm is too far away. They’ve rented a place in the city. It was convenient to move to, and it will be easy to flee if the need arises. Not to mention its proximity to . . .” Mahir fell silent as Mehpare entered the room carrying a tray. He removed a few French periodicals from his bag and placed them on the desk, saying, “I brought these for your amusement, but I’d appreciate your translating the lead articles.”
    “Your French is better than mine.”
    “But my time is limited.”
    Kemal smiled bitterly. “And time is all I have.”
    Mehpare placed the cups of coffee on the desk, picked up the blanket that had slipped to the floor, spread it over Kemal’s legs and silently left the room. As she descended the stairs she whispered to herself: “Praise be—it isn’t consumption. Even it were, I’d nurse him back to health. Allah, I beg you, add my lifespan to his. Don’t begrudge him a long life, Allah!”
    Mehpare was astonished to find Kemal fully dressed, freshly shaved and sitting at the writing