– Yes: I have two older brothers and two older sisters. One is married and lives in the Czech Republic, and the other, Maria, rented your house three years ago. Do you remember her? – I asked.

– No, I wasn't in England then : I was at school in Edinburgh» she answered, covering her eyes from the sun with her palm. – Well, here we are!

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.

– Mary, don't talk rubbish! – Aunt Mel told her off. – Look, you might offend her. Misha, don't pay any attention to her because you have a marvellous figure.

– It's not offensive at all» I smiled, having long ago thought of an excuse for my thinness. – It's just that I'm allergic to almost everything, so I don't eat much.

– You poor thing. What are you allowed to eat? – asked the seamstress, measuring my waist.

– Well, not much: tomatoes… Cucumbers… Sometimes apples, – I thought up, confused, as I had never thought that someone would ask about it.

– To live on tomatoes and apples alone… It would kill me! – Mary exclaimed. – And I was surprised to find our fridge empty!

– I'm used to it» I replied modestly.

Aunt Mel finished her work.

– That's it. I'll have the mould made by Friday. How many copies?

– Two… Or three. Yes, three, and three more robes» I said, putting on my tunic and jacket.