Free Last Train to Istanbul by Ayse Kulin Page A

smothering it in all those sauces?”
    “Why on earth have we come here, then, if you hate the food so much?”
    “Because their wines are absolutely magnificent.”
    “That may be, but we can’t afford them, can we?” Selva reminded him.
    “We will, my darling, we will. Trust me. Be a little patient. Look how well we have budgeted this month. If we can stick to this for a few more months, we will be able to afford all the best wines in the country.”
    If Rafo hadn’t been able to fulfill that promise, Selva would not have been very upset, but as it happened just as Rafo had achieved his aim, everything turned upside down. Selva was sitting at the dining table helping their neighbor’s daughter Yvonne with her English homework when suddenly they heard a commotion outside. Both rushed to the window. Yvonne, who was only nine, was so excited to see all the policemen on their motorcycles that she started to clap. Sitting stiff-backed on the motorcycles, they looked like statues. Selva immediately felt as though a desperate bird were fluttering in her heart. She put her hand on her huge tummy and prayed, “Please, God, protect our child.”
    As soon as Yvonne left, Selva rushed across the street to the pharmacy where Rafo worked, and when she saw his pale face, she felt she might miscarry. But she didn’t, and the baby was born one month later, two weeks prematurely, a tiny son. They called the boyFazıl, after her father. Not that she hadn’t worried about her father’s objections to a Jew’s son having his name. Even though she was still angry with him, she put those worries to the back of her mind because she still loved and missed him so much.
    They had decided that should the baby be a boy, they would have him circumcised after seven days according to Jewish tradition. However, because of the ominous Nazi presence, they decided against it. The day Rafo made this decision, he hadn’t been able to sleep all night.
    Selva would sip her coffee and go through the accounts in her notebook. They were in a mess. By the time the Germans occupied the north of France and Paris, Selva and Rafo had already left for Marseilles; they had hoped they would be safe there, but events had taken an unexpected turn.
    Marshal Pétain, who had taken over the Vichy government and declared himself president, had decided to cooperate with the Germans in order to prevent the rest of the country from being occupied. In his effort not to step on the Germans’ toes, he had begun to accede to their every demand. The Vichy police even started to hunt down the Jews. De Gaulle, who had opposed any collaboration, had fled to Britain to form his Free French Forces. Unfortunately, neither the underground resistance nor de Gaulle in Britain could do much to help the Jews.
    Selva lost two of her students when their Jewish parents decided to leave the area, but that turned out to be a blessing in disguise. Other parents who were planning to escape to America wanted Selva to teach their children. So she immediately had three new students and had to turn others away. She was happy to have more students, but Rafo warned her to be cautious.
    “For God’s sake, Selva, be careful. The Fascists are all over the place. They are bound to notice these youngsters coming and going.”
    “What’s wrong with teaching English, Rafo? Is it forbidden to teach?”
    “No, but it is forbidden to be Jewish.”
    Selva became more and more frustrated each day. She hadn’t been able to forgive her father, because he looked down on people who were of a different faith. He, in turn, hadn’t forgiven his daughter for his own reasons, probably mainly because his daughter had rebelled against his wishes. Selva had never wanted to believe that her father had opposed her marriage solely on religious grounds. She couldn’t believe that the man she respected and loved so much was a religious bigot. What was all this fuss about religion? Surely, she thought, religion should