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– That's it, then . I'll go» he said hesitantly, looking at me intently.

– Go on, they're probably waiting for you. – I wanted Harry to go away and leave me alone.

– Yeah… By the way, the hot water runs 24/7 and our house is serviced by a postman. – Harry finally started walking towards his car.

– Thanks, I'll take care of it. Goodbye, Harry. – I quickly walked into the house and closed the door behind me.

«What a tedious fellow! Very nice, though» I thought.

I remembered the business card and ran my eyes over it: «Harry Smith. Lawyer.»

«Lawyer? Doesn't look like it» – I tossed the business card carelessly on the table and started sorting through my bags.

As I pulled all my belongings out of my bags and placed them in relative order around my new home, I immediately remembered Harry's mocking words about the number of bags. He was right: my clothes and shoes didn't fit in the large wardrobe of the bedroom I'd chosen for myself, but I moved them to the wardrobe of the next bedroom, which was right behind mine, so I didn't have to run far, and my shoes were lined up in the hallway. As the sweet unpacking came to an end, I glanced at the little clock, which looked more like a vase hanging on the wall, and it appeared that I had been up late into the night-the little hand pointed to three o'clock.

Suddenly I thought of Maria's rule:

«Always switch off the lights at night» and I switched off all the lamps and lampshades in the house one by one. The house was dark, but not for me: my eyesight allowed me to see even a needle in the darkest darkness, and since the yellow light of the lantern outside the window illuminated the streets and, through the windows, part of the house, it was quite bright.

Tomorrow I would have to go to the seamstress and order a college robe, some white blouses, black skirts, and a black ribbon around my neck, like an Oxford tie. And then all this will have to be thrown home and go to the post office (what if the letter managed to reach Oxford in such a short time?). And it is necessary not to miss the parcel from Warsaw, so important for me – my relatives have provided me with «humanitarian aid» and sent me a large container with donor blood, which I will feed on until I go out on the first hunt of my life. And about that… I decided that I was definitely not going to hunt anytime soon: first, I had to get used to the mortal way of life.

In the meantime, all I could do was sit in my dark room, burning with the urge to get out of the house and walk around the city, to look around and taste the freedom.

How uncomfortable it was to be a vampire during the night hours! How inconvenient not to sleep, but to be constantly awake and hiding in the house, not daring to switch on the light, and dying of boredom.

I went to the window and looked at the neighbouring houses: they stood silent, somewhat sullen in the yellow rays of the lantern, and no light was burning in any of the windows. The people were asleep.

To keep myself busy, I decided to iron all the clothes that were wrinkled in my bags, but there was no ironing board in the house, so I ironed them on my bed without turning on the light. It took me about three hours, but even then , the city was still asleep.

I watched the hands of the clock eagerly, waiting to see if it would show six o'clock in the morning: my plan was to take my Walkman and jog through the waking town.

Finally, the light of the lanterns faded against the misty English dawn.

«At last! What boredom awaits me at night!» – I thought as I changed into linen shorts and T-shirt. In the hallway I quickly put on my sneakers, plugged my headphones into my ears, turned on my Walkman, walked out of the house, closed the door, went down the stairs and slowly ran along the beautiful street paved with big stones, meeting no one on my way, as if there were no people in this city at all.

The English morning even smelt different: something unfamiliar, it was different from home, and I felt acutely pleased with myself.

I ran down the street, smiling and listening to my favourite tunes playing in my headphones.

Soon I came across the first person of the morning, an elderly man walking his dachshund in one of the parks: the dog followed him lazily and sleepily, lolling from one paw to the other. Following the man, I met two girls running towards me and jogging too.

«How cool it must be to run and chat with a friend!» – I thought to myself as I followed them with my gaze.

Slowly the city came alive: people were coming out of their houses, saying hello, waving, nodding, going somewhere. Cafes were opening (I knew that shops in Oxford didn't open before ten o'clock), and more and more cars and cyclists were appearing on the roads.

The morning was in full swing.

Looking at my watch, I realised I'd been running for an hour and a half without a break, so I stopped and deliberately breathed heavily, like people do after a run. Looking around, I realised that I was in a strange place, with no money, and I had to run back for an hour and a half to get home. But there was nothing to do: I turned round and ran home, luckily I had an excellent memory. I never had much desire to run in the morning, but this morning's run through the waking city was so pleasant that I made a promise to myself to do it every morning in any weather.

I got home by nine o'clock, ran up the stairs to the door, took the key out of my shorts pocket and started to open the door, but the key stubbornly refused to go through the lock.

«What is this nonsense? I guess I'll have to change the lock!» – I thought grudgingly, trying hopelessly to defeat it, and trying so hard that I bent the key. – Well, wonderful! And the morning was so pleasant!»

I sat down pensively on the step, and suddenly I heard the creak of the lock turning: it sounded so loud that it could be heard even through the music.

It made me jump to my feet, hurriedly removing my headphones and staring at the door.

Someone there in the house was opening the door from the other side!

Suddenly the door swung wide open, almost hitting me, and a thin black-haired girl with a short guyish haircut and a nose piercing appeared in front of me.

– Hi, and you must be Marsha? – she asked me in English, in a pleasant, slightly high voice.

I was taken aback.

«What the hell is that?» – went through my head.

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