Father had glared at him in silence as if to say, you imbecile, we’ve just been given this house and you are already thinking of my death. My mother had attempted to suppress a smile. None of us would have known the reason for her merriment had Zeynep, aware of my mother’s routine, not hidden behind a rock after sunset that day and heard Mother talking to the Stone Woman.
‘What should one tell the children these days, Stone Woman? How far can we go?
Poor Salman. All he wanted to know was whether he would ever inherit this house. My husband looked at him as if he had attempted a murder. Even though I’m not his mother, I feel fond of the boy. I wish his father would talk to him. Tell him how much he really loves him. It’s not Salman’s fault his mother died giving birth to him. He feels his father’s indifference. Most of the time Iskander Pasha sees his first wife in the boy’s face and loves him, but there are moments when he looks at Salman with hatred as if he had consciously killed his mother. Once I asked Iskander Pasha about his first wife. He became very angry with me and insisted that I must never question him on this matter again. I had asked so that I could console him, but he was very strange. It did make me wonder whether he had anything to hide. What is it with the boys in this family, Stone Woman? Once they have reached puberty they seem to become aloof, look on their mothers and sisters as inferior beings. I hope Halil never becomes like that. Even though I’m not his real mother, I will do my best to stop him.
As for Memed Pasha, what can I say? Nobody would have objected if he had also married and produced children, but he refused and his father punished him severely for his disobedience. He was kept under permanent watch and special tutors were hired to educate him. Who could have known that this young Baron who came here over fifty years ago to teach Memed and his brothers the German language would become so attached to Memed? Not even the servants suspected. Petrossian’s father was questioned in some detail when the whole business was discovered, but he swore in the name of his Allah that he had not known.
If only you could speak, Stone Woman. You could tell Salman that his uncle Memed will never have children and that Salman will one day inherit this house.’
Zeynep told me. I told Halil. Halil broke the news to Salman and Salman began to laugh. He would stop, look at us with a serious expression, but could not maintain his composure for more than a few seconds. He would collapse. His laughter became uncontrollable. The room had filled up, with Petrossian and even the maids — normally very quiet, but now infected by the strange mirth which swept through the house like a summer storm. Everyone wanted to share the joke, but Salman could not bring himself to speak.
Halil, Zeynep and I became quiet and even a bit frightened, especially when Iskander Pasha came down the stairs. At first he smiled, but Salman, on seeing his father, laughed even more. The atmosphere became tense. Petrossian, alert to his master’s moods, shepherded the maids out of the room. It was only after they had left that Iskander Pasha asked in a deceptively soft voice, “Why are you laughing, Salman?”
Salman suddenly stopped laughing. He wiped the tears off his face and looked straight into our father’s eyes.
“I’m laughing, Ata, at my own blindness and stupidity. How could I have been so foolish as to ask you about Uncle Memed’s heirs? I mean barons, even of the Prussian variety, have not yet been known to bear children.”
My mother took a deep breath. Iskander Pasha could not contain his rage. All I remember is his predatory profile as he clenched his fist and hit Salman on the face. My brother staggered backwards, horrified.
“If ever again you refer disrespectfully to your uncle in my presence or that of your mother, I will disinherit you. Is that understood?”
Salman, his eyes filled with tears of anger and hurt and bitterness, nodded silently. Iskander Pasha left the room. I was not yet nine years old, but I really hated my father at that moment. This was the first time I had ever seen him strike anyone.
I took Salman’s hand in mine, while Zeynep fetched him some water before stroking the cheek that had sustained the blow. Halil’s face had become pale. Like me, he was greatly dismayed, but for him it went much deeper. I don’t think he ever respected our father again. I was very young, but I never forgot that afternoon.
It was not simply the act of violence against Salman that had upset us so much, but the explosion of a frustrated bitterness that had lain concealed below the surface. The mask had been torn aside to reveal a twisted face with heavy and coarse features. Salman was twenty-six that year. All four of us, all Iskander Pasha’s children, had left the house together as if in a delirium. We walked to a flat rock, not far below where the Stone Woman stood, hidden from us by a grove of pine trees.
Each of us had our own favourite place on this rock, but this was the first time we had all come here together. The surface of the rock was dented, but completely level. Nature had played little part in this process. Petrossian insisted that it was here that Yusuf Pasha sat to compose his more lyrical verses with the sea stretching out before him. Several stonemasons had worked hard to flatten the rock and smooth its surface.
We sat down in silence and stared at the sea, till the sight had soothed the turbulent waves tormenting our hearts. We remained there for a long time, waiting for the sun to set. Halil had been the first to speak. He had repeated those selfsame words concerning Uncle Memed that had caused the offence. Then Zeynep repeated them, but when it was my turn, Salman put his hand on my mouth to stop me.
“Little princess, you should never speak of what you still do not understand.”
And we had all begun to laugh again, to exorcise the memory of what had happened that day. Salman, touched by our response, had confessed that he wanted to leave home for ever. He would never visit this house again or return to Istanbul. He would travel to Aleppo or Cairo or perhaps even further away, to lands where there were no Ottomans. Only then would he feel really free.
We were heartbroken. At least get married first, Zeynep had pleaded. Why not join the army, Halil had suggested. They talked of their hopes for themselves and their children, who were yet to be born. They became engrossed in their own lives. All this was new to me. I was still too young to join in or even understand much of what they were saying, but the emotional intensity was such that the day remains vivid in my memory. I had never seen them like this before. Their faces wore animated expressions and they sounded happy and I remember how that had made me happy. It was almost as if the tragedy of that afternoon had become a turning point in their lives and filled them with hope for the future. Even Zeynep, whose placid temperament was a joke in our family, was angry and excited that day. None of us wanted to re-enter the house that evening. We were in full revolt against Iskander Pasha and his whole world. When Petrossian, who always knew where we were, arrived and informed us it was time for the evening meal, we ignored him completely. Then he sat down next to us and with honeyed words of conciliation, he gently cajoled us to return. Salman provided the lead and the rest of us reluctantly followed him back.
I’m not sure exactly when Salman left our home. I think it could not have been too long after being struck by Iskander Pasha. All I remember is the panic that gripped the whole family when Salman announced at breakfast one day that he had decided to leave his job and see the world for the next few years. Since he worked in Uncle Kemal’s shipping company there would be no real problem in returning whenever he wished.
Zeynep and Halil’s mother had looked after Salman soon after he was born, since his own mother had died during childbirth. She was a distant cousin and had always showered me with affection. Her marriage to Iskander Pasha had been arranged in a hurry. He was desolate at the time, but had bowed to family pressure and married her to provide Salman with a mother. She looked after him, tended to all his needs and did become his mother. She loved him as if he were her own son and always defended him fiercely, even after the birth of her own children, Halil and Zeynep.