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True. London underground features colours of every ethnic hue: white, black, yellow and what not. An opposite seat was occupied by an Indian family: women in saris and sandals with a bunch of noisy children. Then there was a tired middle-aged woman unmistakably Chinese, a young man with dark curly hair and olive skin immersed in reading a book in Arab, a huge black youth, his eyes hidden behind sunglasses, his ears blocked by earphones, his jaws chewing violently and his feet in enormous boots moving to the silent rhythm that only he could hear. True, she reflected, the UK’s ethnic minority population is large and growing, at least in London.

«A little over half of the UK’s ethnic minority population is from the South Asian subcontinent — India, Pakistan and Bangladesh. A quarter are black with the remainder predominantly mixed race or Chinese» — she read on and reflected — «Well, it’s not not only a question of where the people come from ethnically. It’s basically the question of the natural balance of colours. Dark hues gradually ousting the light ones. So many young people in London wearing black. The majority of young girls dressed in black from head to heals, as if they all were attending a secret funeral. Very annoying». Tanya’s eyes intuitively started searching for some light patches in the predominantly dark palette of London underground.

North Acton. The doors opened letting in a tall white man in a grey suit with an elegant brief-case and a big umbrella. «Very smart», — noted Tanya as he took a seat opposite her. A bank manager? A successful businessman? In Russia men like that don’t travel by underground, they proudly drive Mercedes or Volvo cars. As the tall gentleman buried his face in «The Evening Standard» Tanya gave him another look: middle-aged, must be in his forties, fair hair with a red hue, a bit longuish, which gave to his basically businesslike image a slightly bucaneerish touch, freckled hands… «Freckles. Red hair and freckles. Must be Irish,» — thought Tanya and smiled remembering the cartoon. The man intercepted her scrutinizing look and gave her a quick warning smile. «It’s impolite to stare» — his cool grey eyes were saying. She smiled back apologetically and turned to the article she had been reading.

«Successful social integration bears a myriad of faces — education, tolerance, inter-marriage and entry to the public services and elite professions being the obvious. Today, Britain’s elite remains virtually impregnable to non-whites, and the only blacks and Asians in the palace of Westminster are still the catering and supporting stuff…»

True… Yet to her foreign eye the ethnic situation in Britain didn’t look so black, or better to say so hopelessly white: there were black news presenters on British TV. A markedly increased number of coloured students at British universities, not mentioning some districts of London turning completely dark. Take Southall, for instance. Besides, it wasn’t just the matter of ethnic tolerance and integration, it was something more delicate and complicated, something that had to do with the natural balance of colours. Perhaps, if English winter were whiter and snowier, the Brits wouldn’t mind having more blacks in their Parliament. Tanya smiled at such politically incorrect thought.