Summer Heat by Defne Suman

Summer Heat by Defne Suman

Author:Defne Suman
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781035902316
Publisher: Head of Zeus


19

The Row

I was seven that New Year’s Eve, when the row had erupted. My maternal grandmother, Madam Piraye, my grandfather Nafiz, Aunt Zeyno and Uncle Christoph had come to our apartment in Galata. Safinaz was not present. She did not enjoy the company of her son’s mother- and father-in-law – maybe that was the reason. But thinking about it now, I don’t remember her ever coming to our home in Galata. She had never been with us at previous New Year’s Eve celebrations, or at other family gatherings. Safinaz always stayed in her own neighbourhood, around Red Square, with her clocks. It was even hard to imagine her leaving her children with Irini on Sundays and going to meet Pasha in some distant neighbourhood.

That day, schools were on a half-day. I was in Year 3. After I got home from school, Mum and I had gone out. We met her mother at the fish market in Beyoglu and bought a turkey. Madam Piraye had a special turkey-man from whom she had ordered one days before. ‘Why are turkeys sold at a fish market?’ I asked Mum, and she laughed. I didn’t persist. I was so happy that they’d taken me – and not Cem – shopping. I was walking between them. The weather was very cold. There was a thin dusting of frost on the carrots, cabbages and lemons outside the greengrocers’ shops, but seeing the colourful lightbulbs strung across the doors of the shops made me feel warm inside. I was going to wear my purple velvet party dress with a lace collar and patent-leather shoes in the evening. The streets smelled of burning coal and roasting chestnuts.

My grandmother was wearing a stylish hat. When we went into one shop, to buy Madlen chocolates, the man inside stood up and kissed her hand, saying, ‘It is lovely to see you, Madam Piraye.’ I giggled. I was wearing a black overcoat with shiny metal buttons. It was a bit long for me, so I’d be able wear it the following year as well. (At this point, none of us knew that we’d be spending the next three years in a village with no electricity.) Before returning home, we went into a fancy shop, sat on high stools and ate pumpkin dessert with walnuts on top. Mum looked beautiful. She had straightened her long hair and let it fall down her back. She looked like a blonde version of Jenny in the film Love Story. Just like Jenny, she was wearing a beige wool overcoat with a red checked scarf around her neck. Looking at her, my happiness multiplied. When she helped me down from the stool, she gave me a hug and a kiss. I was so happy, I decided that New Year’s Eve was my favourite day of the year.

When we got home, Mum and my grandmother shut themselves up in the kitchen and began preparing the turkey, making the dried apricot and almond pilaf, and Uncle Christoph’s beloved German potato salad.



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