Can was waiting for them in the lobby when they arrived. Daldry made the introductions.
“You are, madam, even more admirable from near than from afar,” said Can, bowing deeply and blushing as he kissed her hand.
“I suppose that’s better than the contrary,” she said.
“It certainly is,” said Daldry. He was visibly irritated by Can’s directness.
“Excuse me, please, madam,” said Can. “I did not mean to annoy you. It is just that you are, inevitably, more ravishing in the daylight.”
“We get the idea,” said Daldry.
“Of course, Your Excellency.” Can stumbled over his words.
Alice interjected, doing her best to smooth things over. “Daldry tells me that you’re the best guide in Istanbul.”
“That is exactly true,” said Can. “And I am at your entire disposition.”
“And also the best interpreter?”
“Also,” said Can, his face flushing scarlet for the second time.
Alice couldn’t help but giggle.
“Well, I can tell we won’t be bored in your company. You seem very nice. Let’s take a seat in the bar and we’ll tell you about what brings us to Istanbul.”
After listening to Alice tell him about her plans, Can told her how he could help. “I can take you to meet the perfume makers of Istanbul. They are not many, but they are perfectly excellent in their domain. If you stay in Istanbul until the beginning of spring, I can also take you to the countryside, where we have extraordinarily splendid rosebushes. The hill country welcomes fig trees, lindens, jasmine . . .”
“I doubt we’ll stay that long,” said Alice.
“Don’t say that. Who knows what the future will give you?” said Can.
Daldry gave him a discreet kick in the shin under the table, and Can turned and glared at him. “I need the afternoon to prepare these introductions,” continued Can. “I will execute a few telephone calls and I can come for you on this very spot tomorrow morning.”
“I’m thrilled to hear it. Thank you so much,” Alice said, shaking Can’s hand.
Alice felt like a little girl waiting to open her presents on Christmas morning. The very idea of meeting her fellow perfume makers and studying how they worked in Turkey had made her forget about wanting to leave.
Can rose to his feet, and Daldry accompanied him into the lobby, leaving Alice in the bar to finish her tea.
“My tariffs have just had an augmentation!”
“What on earth for? We agreed on your price.”
“That was before receiving your footy fury upon my leg. Because of you, I will have a limp tomorrow, which will make me late.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I barely touched you. And if I did anything at all, it was to shut you up before you made a blunder.”
Can looked hurt.
“Fine,” said Daldry. “I’m sorry. I apologize if I hurt you, but at the time it seemed necessary. But you must admit you were handling the whole thing very clumsily.”
“I will not augment my tariff, but only because your friend is of a very great ravishment, which makes my work pleasanter.”
“What on earth do you mean by that?”
“That in one day I could easily find a hundred men who would happily beguile her.”
Can said goodbye and left through the revolving door. Daldry returned to the bar, where Alice was waiting.
“What did the two of you talk about just now?”
“Nothing important. His remuneration.”
“I expect you to keep a careful account of your expenses, Daldry. The hotel, our meals, the guide, and the cost of our travel of course. I’m going to reimburse—”
“Every shilling. I remember, you’ve repeated it often enough. But I’m afraid that when we dine or drink together, you’re my guest. It’s one thing for us to be business partners, but it’s another thing for me to conduct myself like a gentleman, and I refuse to stop doing so now. Speaking of which, how about a drink to celebrate?”
“To celebrate what?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Do you always have to have a reason? I’m thirsty. Let’s celebrate the fact that we finally hired our guide.”
“It’s a bit early in the day for me. I think I’ll go and lie down. I didn’t sleep very well last night, you know.”
Alice left Daldry in the bar. He watched her take the lift up to her room and ordered a double Scotch.
A small rowing boat rocked on the water at the edge of a dock. Alice climbed aboard and sat at one end. A man untied the rope from the piling and pushed off. The dock disappeared into the distance. Alice tried to understand why the world was the way it was, why the tops of the tall pine trees seemed to close on the black of the night like a final curtain falling upon her past.
The current was strong, and the boat pitched dangerously when it crossed the wakes of larger ships that churned up the water as they passed. Alice braced herself, pushing her feet against the planks on the bottom of the boat. She couldn’t reach to hold on to the gunwales. The smuggler sat in front of her, with his back turned to her, but every time the little boat plunged or reared, she felt a reassuring presence holding her and calming her.
A wind blew up from the north and scattered the clouds. The moonlight seemed to emerge from the depths of the water.
The man steered the boat to the shore, jumped out into the shallow water, and pulled it up onto the bank.
Alice climbed a hill planted with cypress trees and continued down the other side into a shadowy valley. She walked along a dirt path in the cool autumn night. The descent was steep and sometimes she had to hold on to the bushes around her, but she kept her eyes on a little light twinkling in the distance.
She followed the vine-covered walls of a ruined fortress, or perhaps a former palace.
The scent of cedar mingled with that of the wild broom, and a fainter trace of jasmine. Alice wanted to remember this succession of odors. The light in the distance grew closer and brighter. It was an oil lamp hanging from a chain. It lit a wooden door that opened to reveal a garden planted with linden and fig trees. Alice was hungry and felt tempted to steal one of the ripe fruits. She wanted to taste its red, pulpy flesh. She reached out, plucked two figs from the branches, and hid them in her pocket.
She entered the courtyard of a house. The gentle voice of a stranger told her not to be afraid, that there was nothing more to fear. She would be able to take a bath, eat, drink, and sleep.
Fragile wooden stairs creaked under Alice’s feet as she climbed them. She gripped the banister and tried to tread as lightly as possible.
She entered a small room that smelled of beeswax. She took off her clothes, carefully folding them and piling them on a chair, and stepped naked into an iron bath. She looked at her face on the water’s surface before the ripples erased it from sight.
She wanted to drink the bathwater. Her throat was dry and the room felt airless. Her cheeks burned. Her head felt as though it were gripped in a vise.
“Go back, Alice. You shouldn’t have come. Go home, it’s not too late.”
Alice opened her eyes and sat up in bed. She was burning with fever, her body felt numb, and her legs were weak. A wave of nausea sent her running to the bathroom.
Back in bed, shivering, she called reception and asked them to fetch a doctor and to let Mr. Daldry know she was sick.
The doctor arrived, quickly made his diagnosis, and wrote a prescription that Daldry hurried off to buy in a pharmacy. Alice recovered quickly. Apparently such “digestive problems” were common among tourists, and there was no reason to be concerned.
The telephone in Alice’s room rang early in the evening. It was Daldry.
“I never should have let you eat shellfish at lunch, I feel terribly guilty,” he said.
“Oh, it’s not your fault,” said Alice. “You certainly didn’t force me, but I hope you won’t mind if I stay in my room tonight—the very thought of food turns my stomach.”
“Then don’t talk about it! I’ll fast out of solidarity, it will do me good. A stiff bourbon and off to bed.”