“If you tell me what happened, I might take your side. Two against two is a fairer match.”
“That foolish nephew of mine is too talented a teacher. You’ve gone and learned our language, and now you think you can understand everything. He should mind his own business, and so should you. Get back to the dining room—there aren’t any customers here in the kitchen. And don’t slam the door!”
Alice obeyed, taking her notepad and a pile of freshly washed plates and heading back into the dining room. It was starting to fill up with customers.
As soon as the kitchen door was closed behind her, she could hear Mama Can shouting at her husband to put out his cigarette and get back to work.
The rest of the evening passed without any further confrontations, but every time Alice went past the kitchen, she noticed that Mama Can and her husband weren’t speaking to each other.
Alice’s shift never ended very late on Monday evenings, and the last customers usually left the restaurant around eleven. She finished tidying up the dining room, took off her apron, and said good night to Can’s uncle (who muttered good night under his breath in return). Finally, she said good night to Mama Can, who gave her a strange look as she left for the evening.
Can was waiting for her outside, sitting on a low wall.
“Where did you go? And what on earth did you say to your aunt before I arrived? I’ve never seen her like that; she was in a dreadful mood. It was a miserable evening.”
“We had an argument, that’s all. Things will be better tomorrow.”
“Am I allowed to know what you argued about? I had to suffer because of it.”
“If I tell you, she’ll be even more furious, and tomorrow’s shift will be worse because of it.”
“Why? Is it something to do with me?”
“I can’t say. But it’s late. I should take you home.”
“You know, Can, I’m a grown woman. You don’t have to walk me home every night. I know how to get to my apartment.”
“I know that. But I’m paid to take care of you. I’m just doing my job like you do in the restaurant.”
“What do you mean, you’re paid to take care of me?”
“Mr. Daldry sends me money every week to take care of you.”
Alice looked at Can in disbelief and then walked away without saying a word. Can caught up with her.
“I also do it out of friendship.”
“Don’t tell me it’s out of friendship when you’re being paid,” she said, walking faster.
“One doesn’t necessarily go without the other. Besides, Istanbul is a big city. The streets aren’t as safe as you think they are.”
“üsküdar is practically a village. Everybody knows everybody. You always say so yourself. Now leave me alone. I know the way.”
“Fine.” Can sighed. “I’ll write to Mr. Daldry and tell him I don’t want his money anymore. Would that be better?”
“It would have been better if you had told me to begin with. I’ve written to tell him that I don’t need his help, but I see now, once again, that it doesn’t matter to him what others want. It makes me so angry.”
“Why should somebody trying to help you make you angry?”
“Because I never asked him. I don’t need his help.”
“We all need somebody’s help. Nobody can do anything worthwhile on their own.”
“Well I can!”
“No, you can’t. Would you be able to create your perfume without the master in Cihangir? Would you have even found him if I hadn’t taken you to him? How would you have met the consul or Mr. Zemirli or the old schoolmaster?”
“Don’t exaggerate. You had nothing to do with the schoolmaster.”
“Who took you down the street that went past his house?”
Alice stopped walking and turned to face Can.
“Fine. Without your help, I would have never met the consul or Mr. Zemirli, I would have never worked in your aunt’s restaurant, I wouldn’t live in üsküdar, and I probably would have left Istanbul long ago. I owe it all to you. Are you satisfied?”
“And you wouldn’t have walked down that street and past that school.”
“I apologized. Let’s not spend the rest of the evening bickering over details.”
“I missed the part where you apologized. You don’t owe it all to me alone—you wouldn’t have met any of those people, or found a job with my aunt, or lived in the room she rents you if Mr. Daldry hadn’t hired me. So you might as well continue apologizing and thank him as well.”
“I thank him in every letter I write, for your information. How do I know you’re not just saying all this so that I don’t tell him to stop sending money in my next letter?”
“If after everything I’ve done, you still want to go ahead and make me lose my job, that’s your decision.”
“I can’t believe you!” said Alice.
“I can’t believe you. You’re more stubborn than my aunt,” said Can.
“Fine. I can live with that. I’ve had enough arguing for one evening, anyway.”
They looked at each other, not sure what to do with themselves now that their argument had dissipated.
“Let’s have some tea and make peace,” suggested Can.
Alice let Can take her to a café at the end of a narrow street. The outdoor terrace was still full of people, in spite of the late hour.
Can ordered them two rakis. Alice said she’d prefer the tea he had initially offered, but he wouldn’t have any of it.
“Mr. Daldry wasn’t afraid of drinking,” said Can.
“You think it takes courage to be a drunk?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never really thought about it.”
“Well, you ought to. Drunkenness is a stupid way of forgetting about one’s problems.” She paused and thought for a moment. “But now that we’re already drinking, you can tell me what the fight with your aunt was about. To make it up to me.”
Can resisted, but Alice finally won him over.
“It was because of all the people I introduced you to. The consul, Mr. Zemirli, the schoolmaster, even though with him I swore that we only passed his house by chance.”
“Why does she object to me meeting people?”
“She thinks we’re getting mixed up in other people’s lives. That I’m getting too involved in your business.”
“Why should that bother her?”
“She believes that when you get too involved in other people’s lives, even when you think you’re doing them a favor, you will always bring them bad luck in the end.”
“Well, I’ll go tell Mama Can first thing tomorrow that you’ve brought me nothing but happiness.”
“You can’t say that! She’ll know I talked to you, and she’ll be furious. Besides, it’s not entirely true. If I hadn’t introduced you to Mr. Zemirli, you wouldn’t have been sad when he died. And if I hadn’t led you down that street, you wouldn’t have felt so confused after meeting the old teacher. I’ve never seen you so distressed.”
“Make up your mind, my friend. Was it your talent as a guide or chance?”
“Maybe a little of both. Chance made the konak burn, and I took you down that street. Chance and intention got mixed up.”
Alice put down her empty glass, and Can refilled it immediately.
“This reminds me of the good old times with Mr. Daldry,” he said.
“Could you just forget about Daldry for five minutes?”
“No, I don’t think I could,” said Can, after giving the question some thought.
“How did the argument with your aunt begin?”
“In the kitchen.”
“Not where, how?”
“I can’t tell you. She made me promise not to.”
“Well, I release you from your promise. One woman can lift a man’s promise to another, if the two women in question get along well. Didn’t you know?”
“Did you make that up?”
“Just now.”
“That’s what I thought.”
Alice begged. “Just tell me why you were talking about me.”
“Why does it matter so much?”
“Put yourself in my shoes. Imagine if you walked in on Mr. Daldry and me in the middle of an argument about you. Wouldn’t you want to know what it was all about?”
“I’d know what it was about. Mr. Daldry probably criticized me again, and you took my side and were scolding him. You don’t have to be a mind reader to know that.”
“You drive me crazy.”