Hello Ester (Afternoon, Day 8)

The rain stopped at noon but the sky was filled with leaden clouds, ready to open up again at any moment. I took a break from my writing and went down for lunch. Reşit was waiting for me by the marble column at the bottom of the staircase. He looked excited, rather than nervous or worried, a kind of sweet anxiety writ across his countenance. When he saw me, he rushed up to me.

‘Şehsuvar ağabey, your English is pretty good, isn't it? A writer has just arrived from England, a young lady. She writes detective novels, or something on those lines. I am going to accompany her to lunch and was thinking you could perhaps join us.’

I thought about Abdülhamid. Had he still been sultan, he would no doubt have been eager to meet the young English woman but I was not in the mood.

‘I'm sorry Reşit, I have things to attend to.’

His face fell.

‘That's a shame. Do you think my English will be enough?’

‘I'm sure it will’, I said, slapping him on the shoulder. ‘You'll be fine. Who knows, maybe she speaks French… Actually, that reminds me. What are you doing this afternoon? Shall we pay Cezmi a visit?’

He paused to think.

‘I can't. I have a meeting with the owner of the hotel. It will probably go on for some time. Competition between the Istanbul hotels is heating up, as I'm sure you are aware. We're going toe-to-toe with the Grand Hotel de Londres and the Tokatlıyan. Quality is key, and we're all trying to outdo one another. Please forgive me this once. Let's do it another day.’

He had just finished talking when a young lady appeared next to us.

‘Hello Mister Reşit…’

She had a long, thin face, a very fair complexion and greenish-blue eyes that sparkled with intelligence. Our hotel man immediately straightened up.

‘Hello, Mrs. Christie’.

He'd started well, despite his fears, and spoke quite well. Why didn't he have more belief in himself? But that's unmistakably us as a people. Always finding fault in ourselves, always wanting… To be honest, I was a little confused.