My Ice Prince
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«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.
– I'll make them all in different styles. What kind of material?
– The usual stuff, like everyone else's. I'd be most grateful» I smiled.
We said goodbye to Aunt Mel and went home. On the way Mary suggested we go to the supermarket and buy some groceries, and I was a bit scared, because I'd never been to a supermarket before – I just didn't need to go there, so I politely declined.
– Then , let's go to the park and go rollerblading» Mary suggested, grabbing my arm again.
– I'm afraid I don't know how to skate» I said honestly.
– I'll teach you. It's not very hard; you just have to keep your balance. By the way, about the bike: you can use it whenever you want, but I'll still walk to work.
– Good, I'll know. Where do you work? – I asked.
– At a shelter for homeless children» she said. – Of course, the pay won't be much, but that doesn't matter: I've always felt sorry for those poor, unwanted kids, because… If it weren't for the Smiths, I'd be one of them. – Mary smiled sadly.
– Why do you say that? – I wondered, but I knew what she meant.
From the first time I'd met Mary, when she'd nearly slammed the door in my face, I'd never seen her as having anything in common with Harry, they were completely different, but I hadn't thought about the fact that she might not be his own sister.
– They adopted me when I was two, from this very orphanage. Of course, they hide it from me and treat me like family, and I've never felt any difference in the way they treat me and Harry. They love us equally. I know the Smiths are not my birth parents, but it makes no difference to me: they took me in, brought me up, raised me, and never made any distinction between me and their own son.
– How did you know? – I asked quietly, penetrated by her words and sadness.
It all seemed like some Hollywood film to me, but Mary, the living, real Mary, was walking with me and holding my hand. I felt sorry for this girl, and after her words about the sincere parental love and care of the Smiths, I felt great respect for them, because not every family would agree to take someone else's child into their home and devote their lives to it.
«They are wonderful people! Mary got into a very good family. But it's so terrible: her birth parents abandoned her, abandoned her… How inhuman and low it is! How lucky I am to be born into my family! How much my family loves me!» – involuntarily ran through my mind.
– I was a troubled teenager, and when I was fifteen I was especially so: rude, rude, smoked, skipped school, got that stupid piercing because I thought it was cool. Once, when no one was home, I went through my mum's papers: she hides them from me on purpose, but one day I peeked where she hid them, and when everyone was gone, I took them out. And then I found out that I wasn't their real daughter, and they weren't my real parents, and that Harry wasn't my brother… You know, I didn't feel anything: no bitterness, no disappointment. It was just an emptiness. I couldn't get used to this new truth, and then I felt so sorry for my fate! But I put the documents back and didn't say anything to my parents. I remember locking myself in the loo and crying all day. And as I sat there, I realised that I couldn't and shouldn't resent the Smiths. I thought how lucky I was that they adopted me! What right had I to be angry with them? – Mary squeezed my hand hard, apparently agitated by her own story. – Since then , I've been eternally grateful to them, and I've never stopped loving them. On the contrary. For their sake I stopped truancy, smoking, rudeness, in general, I became a good girl and got in school quite a good certificate. By the way, I didn't go to college on purpose. I purposely didn't take off my earring from my nose to get rejected. I just didn't want them to pay that much money for me. I did it on purpose to be able to work.
A strong sympathy for this girl with such a difficult fate but a noble soul appeared in my soul.
– That's why I asked for a place in this orphanage… Don't think I'm telling you all this to make you feel sorry for me! I won't bore you for long, and as soon as I get my salary, I'll move into a flat.
– Oh, Mary! You can live as long as you like! – I said hurriedly, not wanting such a noble girl to be so inconvenienced. Now I wished with all my soul that she would live with me. – You don't bother me at all!