I looked around, hoping to see my bike, but it was gone, and I was left to stand outside the post office and wonder. On the one hand, it was funny: my bike had been stolen! How human of me!

«But it's not my bike, it's Mary's! What do I do?» – This thought made me angry: I've only been here for two days and already my bicycle has been stolen! – What do people do in such cases? Go to the police!» – I said to myself.

Thanks to the same kind passers-by, I found the police station. The policemen were very nice to me and even offered to drive me home, as it was quite far from the station, but I refused in favour of a regular bus.

I was very pleased with myself, for I had behaved sensibly, carefully, like a real young lady, and had even been to the police station.

At home I found that Mary had gone.

«I should have got her phone number. Why didn't I think of that before?» – I thought with annoyance.

My neighbour came back around ten o'clock in the evening. She was cheerful and flushed. She thought I was asleep, so she tried not to make any noise in the hallway, and went quietly to her room. On the way, Mary stumbled over something and cursed under her breath with a word I didn't know.

I went in to see her.

– Oh, did I wake you? – Mary frowned, pulling off her warm grey sweatshirt.

– No, I wasn't asleep. So, how was your time?

– I had a great time! You should definitely come with me next time! I took off my piercing, see?

I looked at her nose: indeed, the earring was gone, but there was a small but rather repulsive hole. I felt uncomfortable, so I looked away.

– Mary, I wanted to say… Don't swear… My bike was stolen» I said in an apologetic tone.

Mary giggled, which surprised me: our bicycle was stolen and she was laughing!

– It's not a big deal! I've had it stolen six times, and that's because it doesn't have a lock on it! – she said cheerfully. – Don't be upset! Tomorrow we'll go to the police and report it.

– I've already reported it» I said, feeling proud of what I'd done.

– All the more reason to report it. Oxford is a city of bicycles, and they go missing a lot, but they're always found. You left them a phone number, didn't you?

– Yes, and the address too… And I wondered why the policeman was smiling like that! – I laughed: when I gave him my address, he looked at me with a smile. He must have taken this particular bicycle theft report more than once.

–Do you mind if I borrow the bathroom for a couple of hours? – Mary asked, pulling a large fluffy towel out of the cupboard.

– No, of course not. I'm going to go to bed. – I got to my feet. – Just give me your phone number, just in case.

– Okay, write it down.

Mary dictated her number to me and I wrote it down on my smartphone.

Mary started going through the nightstand.

– Where the hell is that gel? Did I forget it in Scotland? Misha, can I borrow yours?

I was a bit taken aback, but I brought her my shower gel.

«I must make sure I drink blood tonight when Mary's asleep, it's the third day». – I thought as I locked myself in my bedroom.

Suddenly Mary's voice came from outside the door:

– «Misha, open up! I'll switch on the fireplace for you, or you'll freeze at night: it's terribly cold outside!

I opened the door, Mary came in, switched on the fireplace, wished me good night and left. A minute later I heard the sound of water in the bathtub. So as not to hear Mary taking a water bath, I put my headphones in my ears, opened my laptop, turned on some music, and logged onto social media to chat with some of my own. Only Maria was online, and I was happy to lie to her: that I lived alone, that I didn't talk to anyone, that I was considered a bitch and an arrogant girl, and that people were tedious and I had no desire to communicate with them. I lied, because I couldn't tell her the truth lest she rush over and take me back under her parents' wing.