Oxford Blood (22 page)

Caroline ran down to meet the returning rowers and give the
exhausted Ben a congratulatory kiss. There would be rowing for the next three
days, and each time, the boats would start in the positions they’d finished in
the previous day, meaning that tomorrow Lilith would be starting second with
Oriel behind them, desperately trying to bump them and regain their place. The
atmosphere was electric. The first days result didn’t really mean much, but
success was success and everyone was happy with any excuse for a party. More
Pimm’s and several bottles of cider were purchased. Nobody seemed in a mood to
go back and do some work. Harriet watched Caroline and Ben embrace down on the
path. Ben looked flushed with success, and had ripped off his top to show off
his astonishing muscles.

Harriet wished that Tom could have been there. So much
happened at night in Oxford that it was sometimes easy to forget that they
could never be together in daylight.

He’d have loved this. He’s very loyal to the college, he
used to row and he adores a party.

She felt sad suddenly, thinking about Tom’s pictures of his
human student days decades ago.

It must hurt that he can’t get involved. It hurts me that
we can’t just stand here and enjoy the atmosphere like a normal couple. It’s
going to be worse come Trinity. All the punting and picnics would have been so
romantic and as the days get longer there’ll be less time that he can be around
at all.

“I’m going back to my room,” she said to Josh, who had been
standing silently beside her whilst she brooded.

“Really? It’s so nice here, and you’re hardly going to have
time to come back down tomorrow.”

“I know; I’m just suddenly not in the mood.”

“I’ll walk back with you. You look exhausted. Don’t wear
yourself out too much with this Union business.”

Harriet considered protesting that she wanted some time
alone, but decided that maybe some company would be nice after all. It had been
too long since she’d had a proper conversation with Josh. Her relationship with
Tom hadn’t exactly soured their friendship but it had certainly strained it.

“So what’s wrong?” Josh asked once they were far enough
along the river path that the crowds of people had thinned out. “And don’t say
nothing, I saw you staring into space.”

Harriet shrugged.

“Is it Tom?” he asked, not quite managing to keep the hope
out of his voice. “He was conspicuous by his absence today. I mean I know he
never knowingly gets out of bed for a lecture, but even most of his sort
managed to find the energy to come out for Torpids.”

Harriet presumed that by ‘his sort,’ he meant lazy posh boys
rather than vampires but the comment still hit a nerve.

“I guess he was busy,” she said hurriedly, wanting to chance
the subject. “There isn’t a problem there. It’s just all this Union stuff
stressing me out. The election’s tomorrow and every time I think about it I
feel slightly sick. I’ll be so humiliated if I lose.”

Josh gestured to a bench by the river and they sat down. He
put an arm around her in a friendly manner. “You listen to me Harriet French;
you are not going to lose. Everyone likes you, you’ve put in tons of effort and
all your friends are going to be out their campaigning. Between Ben’s rowing
and school friends and my music people and Caroline’s theatrical types and
glamour girls, we’ve got it sewn up.”

“What about Ola?” she asked smiling.

“Well she’s quiet but she’s well liked around college. No
one could object to her. I reckon she can help you with the down to earth
people who just want a quiet life, and I’d say they’re one of the hardest
groups to crack.”

“Don’t forget to ask people to vote for Edward and Harry and
Priti and Sameer,” she said half-heartedly.

Josh was stern. “Harriet, we’re voting for you and
campaigning for you because you’re our friend, but I think I speak for us all
when I say we don’t give a damn about slates and Union politics. I’ll help you.
The rest of them, forget it. Anyway, if I bother to vote for President at all,
it’ll be for Julia. I heard her speak at the debate a few weeks ago, and
between her looks, her voice and her arguments she blew me away.”

Harriet smiled. She wondered whether Edward would consider
her trying set Josh up with Julia to be treasonous.

“Right, let’s get you back to college. No doubt you’re out
again tonight.”

“Yes, Law Society drinks followed by Park End,” Harriet
confirmed.

“As I thought. In that case I insist that you have a nap
first before you collapse.”

***

Despite the enforced night out, Harriet woke early on
Thursday, feeling sick with worry before she even got out of bed. Edward and
Crispin had given her very strict instructions on the right balance of standing
nonchalantly in the main quad, calling people and wandering around town. She
supposed she’d better follow them to the letter.

The Presidential candidate and his campaign manager were
both out of action until the sun went down. She’d never heard a vampire really
complain about not being able to go out during the day before – they seemed to
prefer the night – but their frustration last night had been palpable. Of
course, the rest of the slate didn’t know about their ‘condition,’ and there
was puzzlement about what exactly the two boys were thinking, hiding away on
Election Day. Matt, another Standing Committee candidate and prospective
Cavalier had been instructed to hold the fort at Edward’s own college of
Balliol.

The day passed in a blur. Harriet doubted she’d ever spoken
to so many people in one day before. Gradually the panic and tension of the
early morning disappeared as she smiled and directed people to the Union on
autopilot. The polls closed at ten that evening, but by eight, she decided she’d
done enough and deserved some quiet time with Tom.

The results tended to be released around 5am and the Union
was going to be open all night. Harriet was looking forward to soaking up the
atmosphere there later on, but for the moment, with hours until the results
were due, she couldn’t stand the inevitable tension. She met Tom in his room,
envying his well-refreshed appearance after sleeping all day. She embraced him
hard and tilted her head back, offering her neck.

Tom shook his head and pulled her closer. “Not tonight,
tempting as a taste of you would be right now. You need to keep your strength
up for the results.”

Harriet smiled and kissed him. She knew how much
self-control it took him not to drink from her every night and loved him for
it, even though she enjoyed both the physical sensation and emotional closeness
that came from him taking her blood.

“So, how has the day been? Have you got enough strength to
let me take you out for a meal?” he asked, when she finally broke the kiss.

“Between the exhaustion and the nerves I’m going to be
rubbish company, but that sounds lovely,” she replied.

They decided on Pierre Victoire, a cosy French restaurant in
North Oxford. It was reasonably convenient for getting to the Union in time,
but far enough away that they were unlikely to be bothered by other candidates
or people with an interest in the election. They walked there arm in arm. On
this sort of occasion, Harriet could pretend that they were just a normal
couple enjoying an evening stroll and dinner for two. She just hoped the
results would be released before sunrise so that Tom could be there to
congratulate or console her.

As she’d suspected, despite the good food and the fantastic
company, all Harriet could think about over dinner was whether she’d gained
enough votes. As the evening went on, she grew increasingly desperate to go to
the Union where she could be amongst people feeling the same sort of tension,
whether they were friends, allies or rivals.

“Do you want me to come with you?” Tom asked after he’d
settled the bill.

He’d been avoiding the slate meetings and indeed the Union
in general so as not to have them overshadowed by his rift with George.
Although she’d missed his reassuring company during some of the more fraught
moments, she’d agreed that it was for the best. Tonight though she wanted him
with her more than almost anything.

“Absolutely,” she said, taking his hand. “If George is there
we’re just going to avoid him. I’m sure he won’t pick a fight with the number
of people that’ll be around.”

It was 11 o’clock when they arrived and the Victorian
building was packed. It was easy to see who were the candidates and who were
interested observers – the latter were relaxing on sofas and sipping cocktails,
the former pacing up and down the stairs in a whirl of nervous energy, either
not drinking at all or getting absolutely wrecked. Close to, the tiredness on
all their faces was clear.

Harriet alternated cups of coffee with glasses of wine and
tried not to look as on edge as she felt. She saw Edward perched on a desk in
the General Office, deep in conversation with Crispin. Unlike the other
candidates, he looked completely calm and as awake and well groomed as if he’d
just got out of bed, which wasn’t far from the truth. Not for the first time
Harriet envied the vampires their absolute poise.

She had a brief conversation with an utterly dazed
Catherine. She was barely coherent, but no less bubbly and cheerful than usual,
despite Harry being the clear favourite thanks to his Cavalier backing.

Harry on the other hand had completely gone to pieces. She
found him pacing the landing, outside the room where the votes were counted, so
drunk that he was struggling to walk in a straight line.

“I don’t think I quite managed it,” he told Harriet. “It’s
going to be close but I think she’s just edged me out. Sleeping her way to the
top. That’s not fair.”

Harriet allowed herself to nap for an hour in the early
morning, snuggled into Tom whilst he kept an eye on her and made sure she
didn’t miss the results. She woke feeling stiff, though slightly more
energised, but was disappointed to see that they didn’t seem any closer to a
conclusion. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could take the pressure.

Finally, at 4am a hush descended on the room as a rumour
spread that a verdict had been reached. The Returning Officer, a tall, stern
looking woman jumped onto the bar and shouted out for silence.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” she said in a commanding tone, “We
have the results.

“For Secretary’s Committee, elected first with 120 votes,
John Vale.”

A cheer went up. Harriet didn’t know John hugely well but he
was on their slate and seemed to be a decent enough guy, so she clapped
enthusiastically.

“Elected second with 100 votes, Imogen Lloyd.”

Harriet was growing tenser by the moment. The room was full
of people but all she could see was the imposing announcer. She took deep
breaths, digging her nails into her palm. Tom stood behind her with a hand on
her shoulder. She found his presence extremely comforting.

“Elected third with 93 votes, Harriet French.”

Harriet barely took the words in. Tom picked her up and spun
her around and suddenly she found herself surrounded by people wanting to
congratulate her. She tried to listen to the rest of the Secretary’s Committee results
but could barely focus.

By the time the announcer had moved on to the results of
Standing Committee, Harriet had calmed down enough to pay attention again.
Kitty and Matt made it on as well as three others she didn’t know well.

Then it was time for the Secretary result. Although it was
the most junior office, on this occasion it had been amongst the closest fought
contests and most people had strong feelings about both candidates.

“In the contest for Secretary there were two candidates.
Catherine Saunders gained 570 votes and Harry Fitzrovia gained 250. Ms Saunders
is duly elected.”

Harriet clapped politely, but despite Harry’s doubts
earlier, she was shocked. She hadn’t been sure whether he was going to win or
lose, but had expected it to be close. Instead, his opponent had had a
landslide victory.

Tom’s arms tightened around her. “This isn’t going to end
well,” he whispered.

Before Harriet could ask him what he meant she saw Harry
pushing his way through the crowd, refusing to acknowledge their condolences.
He swung open the door leading out of the bar and strode into the garden.

“Wow he’s really taking it badly,” she said quietly to Tom.
“He’s not even staying to see who won President.” Out of the corner of her eye,
she noticed most of the Cavaliers moving towards the exit. Harriet couldn’t
work out what they were doing, but it made her uneasy.

She tried to push it to the back of her mind and concentrate
on the rest of the results. Sameer made Librarian. As far as Harriet knew, he
wasn’t currently a candidate for the Cavaliers. She wondered whether this would
swing it for him next year. Priti took Treasurer.

“For the position of President-elect there were two
candidates,” continued the announcer, unruffled and continuing to stare
straight ahead. “Edward Howard-Jones received 750 votes; Julia Jenkinson
received 500. Mr Howard-Jones is duly elected.”

There was more cheering, albeit accompanied by booing from
one drunken corner of the room. Edward climbed on a table to wave and blow
kisses to everyone.

Immediately, George appeared behind them. “Mr Flyte, you’d
better come with us. You might have decided to abandon any pretence at honour
but for the moment, you’re still an Officer of the Cavaliers. And whilst a vote
is going to be needed, I’m sure you’ll agree that we’ve just found our first
candidate for expulsion from the Fifteen.”

Tom looked uncomfortable but mumbled his assent.

“Congratulations Harriet,” George added, kissing his lightly
on her cheek, causing her to shiver slightly. “Not that I had any doubt about
your success of course.”