Chapter Five
It was a shame that tents had no doors you could slam. Ayşe ran out of the gloom back into the sunlight, and trod on Hakan’s toes.
He caught her about the waist and held her close. “What happened to you?” He tucked a folded piece of paper into his back pocket.
She wrenched herself free of his grasp. “Nothing. Let’s just go meet the other doctors, okay?” Her voice came out high-pitched. So much for the grown woman act. She felt just like a teenager, again, crushing on a cool guy who turned around and hurt her. Revealing the depth of her feelings, only to have him send a friend to reject her.
This was the sort of thing taking risks led to, the kind of heartbreak that left scars, why she’d always done her best to keep her head down and focus on her work.
A long-drawn groan, punctuated by a few choice swear words, came from inside the tent.
Murat ran up from the main building. “Doctor Nadjari’s operating on a couple of soldiers, he says he can’t come.”
Over the sound of another groan, Hakan spoke through clenched teeth. “And the other nurses?”
“Busy.” Murat looked almost gleeful.
“Wipe that smirk off your face and go boil some water,” Hakan snapped. Murat shrugged and ran off.
Hakan turned to her, reaching for her hand. “Ayşe, can you help me? I promise I can explain everything.”
“So explain.”
Another groan. Roslyn called out for help, and the cot’s legs scraped against the rocky ground.
“Fine, forget it.” She yanked her hand from his. “I’ll do it for her, not you. Get a lantern or something, will you?”
Lifting the flap, she returned to the tent, blinking in the dusky light.
* * *
Roslyn’s baby was born at sunset. Ayşe did most of the work—grateful for a month-long stint she’d been assigned last winter in the obstetrics ward, an experience more recent than Hakan’s—with Hakan by Roslyn’s head, helping her with the breathing and the pain. Murat hung around, pacing, and occasionally fetching a needed item.
The camp had no epidural or anaesthesiologist, and Roslyn’s screams were deafening. At one point, Murat went out to collar one of the soccer players to stand by the entrance, and keep nosy neighbours from peeking in.
Hakan left after they’d evaluated the newborn’s Apgar score and measurements, to seek out a nurse, or one of the camp residents who might have training, who could stay with Roslyn for a few hours and help clean up. Ayşe washed herself and Roslyn and the baby boy as best she could, demanded and got a change of sheets for the cot from Murat, and set about combing and braiding Roslyn’s hair. The new mother did not say a word, either in thanks or in further accusation against Hakan. She kept glancing down at the swaddled baby beside her, and grazing its cheek with her pinkie finger.
When another nurse came in, Ayşe went out. Hakan had not returned. She couldn’t leave the camp without him, as she had no idea where to go, and she didn’t relish being reduced to asking Murat to call her some sort of cab or help her find a local bus.
She wandered deeper into the camp. Women were huddled in groups outside their tents and trailers, some baking, others feeding children. Men gathered at the ends of rows, standing and smoking in groups. All of them spoke in Arabic. The moment she heard a voice speaking French, she headed in that direction, and entered a trailer to find a group of doctors seated around a table, wrist deep in forms and folders.
Ayşe introduced herself. They’d already learned of her presence at the camp, and were very polite, thanking her for her help with Nurse Roslyn. Then the tent flap opened and Hakan came in. The others fell silent, and then started up again, making their excuses, leaving one by one.
She made to follow them out, but Hakan stopped her with a hand on her arm. “Ayşe, will you let me explain now?”
“Shouldn’t you be with your son?”
He cringed, but replied readily enough. “He’s not my son. Look, I can prove it.” Reaching into his back pocket, he pulled out a much-folded sheet of paper. “This fax came in from Istanbul this morning,” he said as he flapped it open. “I took the test there, but hadn’t received the results yet, and I had to come down when Roslyn got in touch to say the baby was coming.”
“What test?” She crossed her arms, tapping her foot, not wanting to hear—if she held out hope a third time, and he failed her, she knew she wouldn’t be able to bounce back again. But Hakan didn’t hesitate to answer.
“Paternity test. I was only with Roslyn once, last autumn. But she returned this summer, insisting the child was mine. I came back because, well, I didn’t know yet. I didn’t want to miss the birth in case the child was... Anyway, it’s not.”
The relief in his voice was palpable, a sigh of long pent-up worry, now released.
She took the fax from his hand, careful not to brush his fingers with hers. It didn’t take long to read the two lines from a hospital in Istanbul confirming that the test results were negative.
She kept her eyes on the paper, aware that Hakan was watching her. “Whose then?” she asked finally, thinking of the swaddled, peacefully slumbering baby.
“Who d’you think?” His tone dripped sarcasm. She followed his gaze out the open door, to the end of the row of tents, where Murat was just slipping in to Nurse Roslyn’s.
“Why did she do it? Because you’re a doctor, and he’s...”
“Something like that, I guess. I thought she liked me for myself, but it was the white coat, after all.”
Their eyes met.
“My contract was already up,” Hakan said softly. “And now I’ve resolved what was left between me and Roslyn. I’m leaving the camp first thing tomorrow. I’d like you to come with me, Ayşe.”
She crumpled the paper into a ball. Turned aside, to think rationally without his body so close, without the intensity of his gaze on her. But she had already made up her mind. “I’ve come this far, haven’t I?”
She suddenly remembered she was starving, and stepped over to the table, where a cold supper had been set out for the doctors. “Promise me something,” she said, picking up a couple of crackers.
“Tell me.” He came up behind her, passed her a slice of cheese without her having to ask.
“Promise me you’ll share from the start next time, when there’s something this important.”
“I promise. But...” He waited until she had swallowed her bite, and met his gaze. When had he moved in so close? The lantern light darkened the green of his eyes. “Maybe I don’t need to promise,” he said softly. “Not if we share every experience together from now on. Let’s start tomorrow. We can go anywhere you like.”
“Not on the bus, please.”
He laughed. “They have an airport here. We could fly to Antalya, or Izmir—or back to Istanbul.”
“Are you thinking of the Islands?” She finished her impromptu sandwich but didn’t make another, though she’d hardly blunted the edge of her hunger. It seemed more important to take his hands in hers.
“I am.” He squeezed her fingers. “Your uncle’s villa, and my parents’ villa—all to ourselves.”
“With all our relatives across the water, far away. Perfect. Though there’s no beach.”
“No.” He smiled as he brought his forehead to hers. “Just a hammock on the porch, and maybe a rocky hollow up on a hill.”
“Those have been good,” she said languidly. “But what I’d really like is a soft bed.” She tipped her face up to capture his mouth with hers.