“Hasim, you don’t need to,” he began, but Hasim shook his head once.
“I can sense you are upset with me,” he said. “Please, let me explain. I am married, yes. I visit the hookah den or the bathhouse, and I have taken lovers sometimes, yes. But…” He exhaled softly. “But I spend my days alone. I mean, I am with my cats. Theirs is the only company I can bear most days.”
“Hasim, I…”
“Until I met you,” Hasim said urgently. “And now I feel alive again. I promise you, Archie, with all my heart, if you stay with me, I will be in no one’s bed but yours, if it pleases you.”
Francis dearly wanted to say yes, despite the fact he stillneeded to explain that his name wasn’t Archie.
But this was an impossible situation.
“Hasim, I…I’m so sorry,” Francis said. “I can’t promise I can stay, only because it’s out of my hands.”
Hasim didn’t move, but the look in his eyes showed his disappointment.
“You will ask?” he urged. “Ask your prince for his permission to stay?”
“Well, um…” Francis trailed off. He didn’t know what to say, but he had to think of something. “I’m not sure it’s in his hands either, Hasim.”
“Are you married?” Hasim asked.
Francis was about to say no, then realised Archie was indeed married. He couldn’t keep lying like this, it was getting ridiculous.
“I’m not wed to anyone,” Francis answered. “I’m not otherwise seeing anyone either. That is, besides yourself,” he added with a small smile. “You know, Hasim, I would very much like to stay with you here, but I’m honestly not sure how I’d go about it. The, uh, prince is engaged in this…tournament for the king, and that has to take precedent.”
The look on Hasim’s face shifted at the mention of the tournament.
“That will end soon,” he said firmly.
“Oh?” Francis was surprised to learn that. “I thought it went on for another week?”
Hasim shook his head, dark brows knitting together. “It will end early.”
Francis had no idea why he looked so pained about it.
“Oh, I see,” he said, thinking things through. Perhaps he could write home to Granny and explain he was extending his visit? Come up with some excuse?
He was about to suggest as much, and began to say,“Perhaps I,” at the exact same time Hasim said, “I have something to tell you.”
They both paused, and the awkward moment lingered.
“Sorry, do go first,” Francis insisted.
Hasim shifted on the spot. Francis had never seen him look nervous like this. “I, um…I wanted to tell you…”
“Hasim!” Sanay called loudly. “Telefon!”
Hasim turned and called back in Turkish, sounding cross, and the two of them had a brief, shouted conversation across the factory floor.
Whatever it was about, Sanay kept repeating the wordtelefon, and it seemed too important for Hasim to ignore. Hasim waved his hand in defeat while huffing quietly.
“I have to answer this first,” he explained.
“What is a…telefon?” Francis asked.
Hasim smiled wanly. “You will see.”
They went to Sanay, who was standing at a pillar holding what looked like a small baton in her hand, connected to the pillar by a long wire. She offered the baton to Hasim as he approached and stepped back to let him speak into it.
