Your Mark on Me

Chapter 35: London (II)

On Wednesday morning, after a few days filled with sightseeing, dinners at expensive restaurants, theater, and a couple of musicals on the West End, we went to the Royal College of Music to meet up with Mrs. Lumsden, one of the piano teachers there.

It was a large castle-like structure, hidden behind the Royal Albert Hall, tucked away but with its own sense of splendor. Two towers on the left and right defined the façade, connected in the middle with rows and rows of practice rooms.

Inside, the music of pianos, singers and brass instruments drifted together in a bizarre cacophony of sounds: the sound of a Conservatoire.

I'd heard it once before when visiting Juilliard.

As I walked through the corridors, holding Mark's hand, it felt strange to imagine that in twelve months I'd be studying in this red brick building in London, when, for years, I had pictured spending my student years in the heart of New York.

I was a bit rusty after five days without practicing, still, I played well enough for Mrs. Lumsden to be impressed and accept me as a pupil. She had no doubt I'd pass the entrance audition.

"I told you that you'll be fine", Mark said after we left. "Everything will be just fine."

I nodded, even though it sounded like he was talking to himself.

***

In the afternoon, we went shopping.

"Just get everything you need, okay? Don't worry about money. Also, we need to find you a nice dress."

"A dress?"

"Sorry, I was going to tell you. My sister's birthday party is on Sunday. It seems like a good opportunity to introduce you to everyone."

I gulped - I hadn't expected it to happen so soon. Mark winked and ruffled my hair, warning me jokingly "not to embarrass him", so I laughed and, just like Scarlett O'Hara, who I'd been named after, decided to worry about it later.

"There's no way I'm spending this much on a piece of cloth!"

We were inside a shop, looking at the price tag of a blue dress that had caught my eye.

"You're not spending, I am. I said don't worry about it."

I knew he didn't mean to sound rude, but couldn't help feeling offended. "I'll pay you back for everything at some point when I earn. Maybe I'll get a part-time job or something."

"You're being ridiculous. Here, try this one. Red looks good on you."

I didn't like being ordered around, but red did look good on me. When I pulled the curtain of the fitting room to show him, Mark gave a broad smile, and I knew he liked what he saw. It was a lucky fit, considering how hard it usually was for me to find clothes that didn't look like they were hanging on a stick.

We bought it, then went for shoes and I chose a few other things that I was in need of, like long sleeve tops and cardigans, a bit more appropriate for late August in London than the summery clothes I had packed in my suitcase. Mark convinced me to try on a few other casual dresses, also a couple of skirts, all very pretty, except I wasn't a skirt person.

"My turn now", I said after we were done. "Why don't I choose some things for you?"

He laughed.

"No, really. You had fun 'dressing' me. It's only fair."

He raised an eyebrow, then sighed. 

"Fine. I'm all yours."

"First of all, let's get you some jeans."