Hello Ester (Mid-Afternoon, Day 11)

When I left the hotel, it was around mid-afternoon. On the way out, I saw the English author at reception. She was checking out with a large group that was leaving Istanbul on the Orient Express. She smiled when she saw me. I even think she was going to stop to talk to me and ask me how I was, after having heard my screams the other night, but I was in no state to converse or explain what had happened and so I gave her a simple but courteous greeting and made for the door.

Outside, a restrained sun was gently, almost bashfully, warming up the city. The suffocating heat of yesterday had gone and a cool breeze was waltzing through the streets. The autumn we know so well had arrived. As is my habit, I looked around to see if anyone was watching me but there was no one. I suppose it is only expected that they would stop following me, seeing as I'll soon be working for them.

I picked up speed, despite the heady, lethargy-inducing sweetness of the weather. Mehmed Esad and I had not agreed upon a time but he had said something along the lines of afternoon, which meant I needed to walk a little faster if I was not to be late. As I was hurrying past the entrance of the Karlmann Arcade, which looks out on to the Tepebaşı Gardens, I bumped into someone. He was a small fellow and fell tumbling to the ground when we collided, the poor thing. It was my fault. I was in such a hurry, and so needlessly too, that I had not seen him coming out.

‘I do apologise’, I said, reaching out to help him up. ‘I didn't mean it’.

The man stared at me.

‘Şehsuvar…? Is that you?’

I remembered him now: the voice, the face, the look in his eye. It was an old classmate from high school.

‘Arşak…? Wow! It is you!’

He grabbed my hand, got up and we embraced. He then looked me up and down.

‘You've aged’, he said, genuinely sad. ‘But then I suppose I've aged even more’.