We stopped in front of a small window displaying female and male mannequins in Oxford University uniforms. I was immediately filled with excitement and joy: what a pleasure it would be to wear this beautiful strict uniform!
We entered. The bell on the door rang.
– By the way, Aunt Mel is considered the best seamstress in Oxford. Do you know how many people dress at her place? – Mary said to me. – Hey, Aunt Mel, I've brought you a customer!
– I'm coming, I'm coming! – Out of a side door came a full elderly woman with completely grey hair. – Mary, my girl, are you back?
– Yes, Aunt Mel! I'm going to work in Reverend Charles' office! – Mary hugged the seamstress.
– «Office»? What a word you've chosen! By the way, the orphanage is a holy place! – Aunt Mel said with a laugh.
– Oh, you're at it again! – Mary laughed. – How you like to teach me!
– Don't you laugh: I've been in this world sixty-five years, and I know more than you! – grumbled the seamstress.
«She's sixty-five? And she looks so awful? Thank God I'll never be that ugly!» – I thought as I looked round at Aunt Mel, who looked sad, and marvelled at the contrast between her and my beautiful young parents.
How amazing: people take this ugly old age for granted, and we take for granted our eternal youth and beauty. How different creatures we are!
– What's your name, my girl? – the seamstress turned to me.
– Marsha, and she's Polish» Mary said before I could even open my mouth.
– Not Marsha, but Mischa» I corrected her calmly.
– Yes, I'm sorry, it's just that the names are very similar» Mary apologised, then turned to the seamstress. – She needs a uniform for Oxford.
– Oxford? What a clever girl you are, Misha!» Auntie Mel complimented me. I smiled falsely. – Then let's go to the fitting room. Take off your jacket and jumper and we'll take your measurements.
I followed her into the fitting room, took off my jacket and tunic and stayed in my bra and jeans.
– Polish girls are as beautiful as ours» said the seamstress. – It's very interesting: you are so tall and yet so thin. Not a model, by any chance?
– No, I just don't have an appetite» I told her.
– Do you keep your figure? – Mary asked when she came in. – You're so thin! Well, I'll make you fattened up! I wonder how you got breasts when you're so thin.