Letter from a Stranger (27 page)

“Will you warn Gabri for me, Grandma? Look, Justine knows nothing about Gabri’s past life, I’m certain of that, and neither do I, for that matter.” He gave her a hard stare.

Anita sat back on the sofa, looking off into space, her expression one of sadness as she thought about Gabriele, her very dearest friend, whose past was actually as mysterious to her as it was to everyone else. In certain ways, Gabriele was something of an enigma.

Michael waited, drank his coffee, and thought about his maternal grandmother. When he was back home in New York, or traveling the world doing his work, she often popped into his head unexpectedly, somewhat in the same way Gabriele did at times.

The image in his mind’s eye was of the buoyant, vivacious woman he had had so much fun with over the years growing up in New York and here in Istanbul. Anita, the businesswoman, the famous hostess, full of energy and goodwill, everyone’s special favorite, who invariably wore every shade of red, and not very often any other colors. He had never met anyone who enjoyed life more, gave so much of herself to her friends and family, and whose love was unconditional.

Interrupting these thoughts, Anita finally said to Michael, “I’ll alert Gabri to the situation, but she won’t talk to Justine about saving my life. Or confide anything else about her distant past. She never has to me, you know.”

Anita shook her head, and continued, “She never told me what happened to her during those years we were apart, after I’d come here to live. She
did
save my life in an act of enormous courage, and I have never forgotten that, nor has she, and we are truly bonded. And yet she has never once shared her secrets, and she has hardly mentioned those long-ago years.”

“I find that odd, Grandma, in view of your extraordinary friendship.… You were kids together.”

“I genuinely believe she can’t talk about those
lost years,
as I call them. Once, way back when, she told me she had buried the past so deep she couldn’t dredge it up. In my opinion, she doesn’t
want
to remember, if I’m honest with you.”

“And she never told you
anything
? Nothing at all?”

“A few little things, but her past is in her own keeping.… She’s never given me any details of those missing years, and I know for a fact that she never confided in Trent.”

Leaning closer to her grandson, Anita went on to explain, “I’m convinced she’s never spoken to anyone other than me. I probably know the most, which is really nothing at all, if the truth be known … a few comments, one small confidence that I promised never to disclose. That’s all she’s ever given me.”

He was still astonished by this, but he noticed the sorrow in his grandmother’s eyes, and he decided to cut this conversation, and move on. It served no purpose to continue discussing Gabri’s past.

He exclaimed, “Come on, Anita, let’s put all this to one side. Let’s be happy that Justine and I met and fell in love.… It’s what
you
wanted, isn’t it?” He grinned and put his arm around her. “Guess what? Justine believes you set me up.”

On hearing this Anita couldn’t help laughing. It wasn’t exactly true, but there was no doubt that the moment she had seen Justine she had known Gabri’s lovely granddaughter was the perfect woman for him, the right woman.

Eventually managing to suppress her chuckles, she remarked, “Justine is a very clever girl. She picked up on the conspiratorial looks I exchanged with Gabri. And you’re right, it’s wonderful news that you fell head over heels in love. You two are just like your grandfather and me. We met, fell into each other’s arms that night, were in the same bed the next night, got engaged a week later, were married a month after that. We were the happiest couple I know, which is often the case with love at first sight. It seems to last forever.”

*   *   *

A few minutes later Michael found Justine in Gabri’s small library which opened off the living room. She looked up as he walked in. “Are you about to leave?”

“I am. And I’ve changed my mind, you can come with me if you want, at least as far as the Çiragan Palace. There’s a load of traffic on the bridge, according to Kuri. So he called the hotel, booked a car and driver to take me to Atatürk airport. He’ll bring you back after he’s dropped me at the hotel. How about that? Feel like a quick boat ride?”

She laughed. “I’d love it.” Standing up, she walked over to him, and he immediately pulled her into his arms, held her close.

He whispered against her hair, “I love you, Justine.”

“And I love you too, Michael. I’m going to miss you terribly.”

“I’ll call you every day, I promise,” he said.

Twenty-seven

Anita and Gabriele saw them off at the jetty, waving to them until the boat was in the middle of the Bosphorus. Only then did the two women turn away and walk back into the gardens.

Anita said, “Let’s go and sit on the seat for a few minutes, Gabri. I need to talk to you about something important.”

Gabriele nodded. “Why not? It’s a lovely place to relax on a superb morning like this.”

Once they were settled on the garden seat, Anita said, “I need to explain a situation that’s developed.”

Gabriele turned to look at her, and frowned, bafflement reflected on her face. “You sound serious, Anita, is there a problem?” She scrutinized her friend alertly.

“I think so.” Anita shook her head, worry clouding her eyes. “Michael came to see me this morning. He said he made a blunder earlier. He told Justine you saved my life when we were young girls.”

Gabriele was silent; her heart sank. She said slowly, carefully, “Knowing Michael, it was an honest slip of the tongue.”

“That’s right, he meant no harm, Gabri. Apparently, Justine was so surprised and intrigued he realized she hadn’t known this before. He grew alarmed because Justine became overly curious.”

There was a moment of silence, then Gabriele murmured, “She was always inquisitive, hence her desire to become a journalist.”

Anita explained, “According to Michael, she began to ask a lot of questions, and he told her that it was my story, that she should speak to me, if she wanted to know more. He suggested this because she told him she wanted to talk to you about it. He was endeavoring to divert her.”

“I see.” Gabriele bit her lip, wondering how to handle this unexpected situation, which presented a number of problems.

Recognizing this was troublesome to Gabriele, Anita took hold of her hand and squeezed it. “I’ll say anything you want. What shall I tell her? I
will
have to address it.”

“Yes, you will. We’d better stick to the truth, it’s always the best in the long run. She knows we grew up together. So you can just say it happened during the Second World War, and leave it at that.”

Anita was not sure it would work, and she was dreading talking to Justine. The latter was a clever young woman, brilliant in certain ways, and extremely perceptive. Very much like her grandmother. Clearing her throat, Anita asked, “Shall I say I was in a dangerous situation?”

“No, don’t say that, if you can avoid it. Just bring the conversation to an end.”

“What if she keeps pressing me?” Anita asked, her concern echoing.

“She might do that, yes. So if she does, tell her the truth. That a short while after I’d helped you, your brother took you to Turkey, because your mother was there with her sister. And that she wanted you both with her.”

Anita nodded, let out a long sigh. “You know as well as I do that one question will simply lead to another; it inevitably does.”

“If that happens then you have no alternative but to tell her to come and talk to me,” Gabriele said firmly, in a steady voice.

Anita was startled by this remark, and she gaped at Gabriele. Her surprise was apparent in her voice when she exclaimed, “But you’ve never spoken about those years with anyone … not even me.…” Anita shook her head. “You’re not able to do that, Gabri.”

There was no response from Gabriele. She leaned back on the garden seat and closed her eyes, her mind racing. Her body was suddenly as rigid as stone, her face a mask; inside she was floundering, at a loss, not knowing what to do.

Anita, who knew her better than anyone, understood what was going on in her mind. Gabriele was seeking a way to tell her granddaughter something about her past, without creating needless pain for herself. Anita had fretted about her for years, had long accepted that Gabriele’s sorrow ran deep, that she had no desire to dredge up memories which would only cause more suffering. Their one little discussion about the lost years, as Anita called them, had been in the late 1940s, after the end of the war when travel had become easier. And ever since then there had not been much else said. Until now.

With a sudden movement, Gabriele sat up and turned to Anita, gazing with intensity at her devoted friend. “I will try to confide a few things in order to satisfy Justine. But as you’re well aware, I am not able to dig very deep.”

“That will be good, Gabri.” Anita’s eyes narrowed as she returned her friend’s long stare and realized how pale she was. She also noticed the apprehension in Gabriele’s blue eyes, decided to change the subject.

Anita remarked, in a casual way, “I think Justine will want to do the interview with me today, for the documentary. And I shall.” Anita paused, before murmuring softly, “But the other matter might come up, you know.” There was a note of warning in her voice.

“I am prepared for that now,” Gabriele answered swiftly. “There’s something else we should discuss. We’re supposed to go to Bodrum tomorrow, to visit the Malkins, talk about finishing their house by June. We can’t put it off, we must go. If necessary, we can take Justine with us.”

Anita responded, “You’re right, and we have to get the project out of the way. I have a feeling the Malkins want to move in as soon as possible.” She then thought of Justine. A sense of dismay trickled through her once more, a shadow crossing her face. She wished to God her grandson had been more careful. It was not like him to make such a blunder, on the other hand, he had not understood the ramifications.

*   *   *

Gabriele spent the remainder of the morning sitting at her desk in a corner of her bedroom. It was quiet upstairs, and she had total privacy. Far away from the many and varied activities downstairs, early morning cleaning, flower arranging, and preparations for lunch, she was also removed from the fussing of Ayce and Suna, the two young women who looked after her and the
yali
. They were caring and devoted, but had developed a tendency to mother her, which both amused and touched her. Yet there were times when she needed to be alone, to sort through her myriad thoughts.

Up here in her spacious room overlooking the Bosphorus she could relax and think. She had a clear and analytical mind, and her mental capacities had not been diminished by the passing years.

Now she settled on Justine. She was well aware her granddaughter’s inquisitiveness was based on nothing more than a need to know about her younger days because of Justine’s love and pride in her. The child she had helped to bring up had always tried to emulate her, and had worked hard at school to please her, and there was a special bond between them.

Tony, Justine’s father, had often laughed and said, “Justine wants to know the back end of everything,” and she knew this was true. There had never been any hidden reason for the girl’s constant questions, just that enormous curiosity about everything.

Gabriele sat for a long time staring into space, letting her thoughts drift, remembering things about Trent, Auntie Beryl and Uncle Jock, and their times together. Beryl had been a conduit to her past; her mother had been Beryl’s sister, and she loved to talk about her beloved Stella. And Uncle Jock had been like a father to her.

Her mind went on turning and turning. Then quite unexpectedly the solution to her problem came to her. It made her sit up straighter in the chair with a jolt. She experienced a sudden clarity of vision so acute she knew exactly what she must do. She had the solution. Excitement swept through her.

Pushing herself to her feet, she hurried down the stairs, intent on talking to Anita. Almost running through the small sheltered courtyard to the other
yali,
she felt as if a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

Twenty-eight

Anita was sitting on Gabriele’s terrace, studying a floor plan, when Justine returned an hour later. She looked up when she saw her approaching, smiling, displaying her happiness.

“There you are, darling. Michael got off all right, did he?”

“Yes, Anita.” Justine hurried over and gave her a hug, then sat down in the chair next to her. In a rush of words, she went on, “Once we arrived at the Çiragan Palace, we went to find the car and driver Kuri had booked, and within minutes Michael was off to the airport. He wouldn’t let me go with him.”

“No, he wouldn’t. He’s never liked good-byes. I suspect he was very nonchalant when he left, wasn’t he?”

“He was. He said, ‘So long, see ya,’ and gave me a quick kiss and was gone.”

“That’s the way he is, and you’ll get used to it.”

“I’m used to it now, I think. I understand him, and I do love him, Anita.”

“It’s apparent, and I can see that he feels the same way about you.”

Justine settled back in the chair, looking reflective. After a second or two, she said, “Michael told me that my grandmother saved your life when you were both young girls. He said you would tell me the whole story.”

After her chat with Gabriele only a short while ago, Anita was now well prepared. “So he explained to me, before he left. But Gabriele would prefer to tell you about it herself, and she plans to do that tomorrow morning. This afternoon she has a meeting about her Tulipmania fabric line, and I thought you and I could do the interview for your film, at that time. You know, chat about my life here, and my thoughts about the city. That would be a good moment, Justine, because tomorrow afternoon your grandmother and I have to go to Bodrum. We’re decorating a beach house there for clients. Would you like to come with us?”