***
The sound of a brief knock woke Harriet the next morning. Moments later, her scout walked into her room.
“Oh, sorry to disturb you dear. Do you want your room cleaning or are you going back to sleep?” the middle-aged woman asked.
Harriet still hadn’t quite got to grips with the idea of having someone who cleaned her room or the invasion of privacy it entailed. It didn’t help that the scouts usually looked quite horrified at the inevitable state of her room. She sat up in an attempt to be polite.
“What time is it?” she asked.
“Half twelve. Late night, was it?”
Harriet realised that she should get out of bed, but dizziness overwhelmed her when she tried.
“Something like that,” she replied. “You can leave the room for this week. Sorry about this, I’m feeling absolutely awful.”
“In that case, I’ll just empty your bin and leave you to it. I hope you’re feeling better soon. Make sure you go to the doctors if you’re not.”
Harriet nodded at the friendly advice, but as she sank back into her pillow and memories of the night before flashed through her aching brain, she wondered what a doctor would have to say about her injury. She didn’t want to know.
The scout left and shortly afterwards, her phone beeped with a message from Caroline suggesting they meet for lunch in the bar. The thought of leaving her room and exposing herself to the gaze of the rest of the college increased the dizziness.
She texted back: Too fragile for the bar. Loads to tell you about last night. Bring some sandwiches from the shop. I’ll pay and give you all the gossip. Don’t bring anyone else.
A few minutes later, she heard a knock at the door. This time, she managed to drag herself to her feet, but doing so emphasised how much the blood loss had affected her.
Before she reached the door, Caroline, never one for privacy, had let herself in. She deposited a mouth-watering hot sandwich for Harriet and a bowl of soup for herself on the desk, and then sat down on the bed.
“God, you look terrible. Have you had any sleep? What the hell happened after you left? Did you and George...”
Harriet’s lip trembled and her friend immediately trailed off. “I’ll make tea whilst you tell me,” she said. “I see you’ve stocked up on peppermint.”
Whilst Caroline boiled the kettle, Harriet took a few bites of the surprisingly revitalising bacon baguette and explained. “We went onto Steele Walk, and well, things got a bit heavy. Everything moved so fast, but if I’m honest I was totally up for it.”
Caroline’s eyes widened. “Good for you. He seems to be a bit of a twat, but he’s unbelievably hot. You need to have some fun and stop obsessing over Tom. So come on, how far did it go?”
Harriet didn’t speak for a few minutes, instead taking small sips of her tea. She covered her face with her hands before answering. “Not very. Because then he attacked me.”
Caroline gave a sharp intake of breath.
The horror of it all crept up on Harriet once more, and she started to cry.
Her friend sat down on the bed and put her arm around her. “Oh my God, what do you mean attacked you? What did he do?”
Through her tears, she choked out something vague about George pinning her down and cutting her neck. Tom’s explanation drifted through her mind but she immediately dismissed it. In her hysterical state, it had felt a bit like he had bitten her, but that made no sense. He’d obviously had a knife she hadn’t noticed. She lifted her long hair to show Caroline the bloody marks.
“I don’t think he meant to cut it so badly. I guess he meant it to be some sort of kinky game, but I struggled, and it all got out of control. I actually ended up losing quite a bit of blood. That’s why I feel like shit today.”
Caroline seemed to be struggling to find the right words. “Have you spoken to the police?”
Harriet shook her head. Any investigating officer would be able to tell the difference between a wound inflicted with a knife and one caused by oddly sharp teeth. She couldn’t face the possibility that they would tell her it was the latter.
“Anyway, I haven’t told you the most exciting bit yet.”
“Really? More exciting than being attacked by some psycho-rah?” Caroline leaned in closer.
“Yup. Let’s just say I was rescued by the person I’d have picked above anyone else to be my knight in shining armour.”
“What, Tom?” Caroline replied. “Seriously? How on earth did he find you out there? Did they fight? Did you go back with him?”
Harriet explained as best she could. If only she could share Caroline’s excitement and just revel in the fact that she actually had been rescued by Tom, that the boy she’d adored for weeks while he blanked her, actually cared enough to save her. But she couldn’t forget how weird he’d been afterwards and didn’t want to tell Caroline about their conversation.
“And then he put me to bed and left,” Harriet concluded.
Caroline looked satisfyingly enthralled. “Only you, Harriet. You spend time alone with not one but two of the absolute hottest guys in the university and what happens? One stabs you; one tucks you in and wishes you good night. I think you need to find a middle ground.”
The two of them talked it over for a while longer, analysing every detail that Harriet dared to provide.
“There’s something you’re not telling me,” Caroline said. “None of this quite makes sense.”
Harriet insisted that she’d explained it all. “I’m going to take it easy for now and then try to get on with my essay. You know the Professor wouldn’t take a little thing like a knife attack as an excuse for not getting work done!”
Caroline lingered, but eventually agreed to leave, having made Harriet promise to come to Hall that night.
As the afternoon progressed, Harriet began to feel better. Writing an essay on the causes of the English Civil War had seemed impossible in her emotional and physical state, but focussing on work took her mind off everything and she made surprisingly fast progress. The Civil War period had always caught her imagination, and she enjoyed working out how random events had come together to cause something as unexpected as the execution of the king.
Between chapters, she couldn’t resist researching vampire legends on the internet. It was utterly preposterous, of course, but if Tom hadn’t changed his tune the next time their paths crossed, at least she’d have some ammunition of her own to banter back with. None of the websites mentioned anything about the Cavaliers or about vampires recruiting promising university students.
She twisted the necklace around her fingers. The Piso Balla, Tom had called it, and the reference had certainly got a reaction from George. Had they both been in on the joke? Or could there be some truth in it after all?
Unable to settle back to work, she looked up ‘Piso Balla.’ She quickly established that a Balla was a type of Roman necklace. The Piso turned out to be an ancient Roman family, but she couldn’t find any mention of vampires or particularly noteworthy jewellery in connection with them.
At dinnertime, Harriet dragged herself to Josh’s room. Now that she’d told Caroline and got it off her chest, she didn’t want to discuss last night with anyone else, but it would seem weird if she didn’t come to Hall.
On arrival, her friends all looked worried. Caroline must have told them something. They managed to skirt around the subject, but the conversation faltered.
“Bar at nine?” Caroline suggested to the group as they headed back to their respective rooms.
“Sorry, I’ve got an essay due in tomorrow,” said Olamide.
“Drinks with the rowers,” Ben replied, with the unhappy look he gave every time he had to turn down an evening with Caroline.
Everyone departed for their rooms, leaving her alone with Josh. She asked him how his rehearsals for a concert were going, but he looked at her sternly.
“What is going on with you? Something’s wrong and I don’t think you should keep us
all in the dark.”
“I’m fine,” she said.
“Don’t be ridiculous. I see you every day; I can tell when you’re in a bad way.” They were walking into their staircase now, and Josh pointed towards Tom’s door. “Let me guess, it’s got something to do with him. Whenever you’re upset or distracted, it all comes back to Mr Flyte. Will you please just get a grip?”
“All right, it’s sort of to do with Tom. If you really want to know, he saved me from being attacked.” She paused for effect. “And let’s be honest, I didn’t see you helping.”
Josh looked slightly sick, and Harriet worried she’d pushed him too far.
“Who attacked you?” he finally managed to ask.
“You wouldn’t know them. A socialite type from Christ Church. I’m sorry Josh, but I really don’t want to talk about it.”
Josh looked as though he might launch a full-scale inquisition. Instead, he hugged her. “I’m sorry. About whatever exactly happened and about pushing you to tell me. I won’t ask anymore, but if you want to talk, any time of the day or night, you know where I am. In the meantime, I’ll see you in the bar at nine.”
Without another word, he went into his room. Within a moment, Harriet could hear him hammering out a furious Shostakovich piece on his piano. She threw herself onto her bed and considered abandoning any attempts to be social and just having a quiet night.
Just before nine, however, Caroline appeared and all but dragged her to the bar. “What do you want?” she asked. “I’m buying; I think you need a drink.”
“Thanks. White wine please.” Harriet glanced around to make sure Tom wasn’t there. To her relief, she couldn’t see him.
She took her drink and sat down with Caroline. After a few moments, Josh came in and joined them. He’d calmed down since his earlier outburst, and though he gave Harriet a few concerned glances, he made an effort to be cheerful as he sipped his pint of Strongbow.
They sat and talked for an hour or so, and Harriet had almost managed to convince herself that this was a normal evening in the college bar and pushed the horrors of the night before to the back of her mind. She went to the bar to buy her round and almost collided with Tom.
“So, have you calmed down enough to thank me for saving you?” he asked, giving her a light smile.
“I don’t want to talk to you,” Harriet replied. “I still don’t understand what happened last night. Maybe you did save me, but there was no reason for you to try to scare me with all that nonsense. So tell me, was it a pathetic joke, were you on something, or are you actually slightly insane?”
Tom glanced around and refused to look her in the eye. He ordered a drink before he answered.
“I meant every word of it, but I got carried away,” he said finally. “I got too close, and I told you too much. Remember what I told you about wearing the necklace and not inviting people in, but otherwise forget it.”
Harriet studied his face. His level, open gaze showed no sign of malice or trickery. He seemed entirely sober and calm.
“You really believe this, don’t you?” Her voice shook. “It sounds completely crazy to me, but maybe if you try to explain it to me properly I’ll understand. Maybe I reacted too harshly last night. I guess you did save me. I can’t imagine what would have happened if you hadn’t turned up when you did.”
“Nothing much,” Tom said. “You’d have lost a little more blood. George would be looking a little healthier tonight. He wouldn’t have been stupid enough to kill you out there. Don’t go around thinking I saved your life. I just protected your honour.”
Harriet couldn’t believe his attitude. “Tom, please. I don’t understand. You were all over me on that first day, and then ever since, you’ve done your best to blank me. Last night you saved me but today you’re all dismissive again. I’ve long since given up on anything happening between us, but can’t we be civil? Can’t we be friends?”
“I don’t have human friends,” he snapped. “I have acquaintances who are useful to me, and I have people who are a source of regular blood. You’re not useful, you’re downright dangerous, and whilst I’d love to, I’d never dare drink from you.
“Don’t make this more difficult than it needs to be. Do your best to stay away from me and I’ll continue doing my best to stay away from you. Believe me, if you ever get into trouble again, I’ll be there and I’ll keep you safe, but otherwise we should do our best to pretend we’ve never met.”
Harriet clung to the bar. She attempted to speak but couldn’t form words through her rapidly constricting throat. Besides, she couldn’t think of an answer that would help matters. She didn’t know whether to blame his behaviour on madness or malice and she wasn’t sure which would be worse.
Tom picked up his drink and strode over to the group of second years who’d been calling him.
Harriet dragged herself back to her table where Caroline and Josh were deep in conversation.
“Well?” said Josh.
“Basically he told me never to speak to him again,” Harriet replied, her voice devoid of all emotion.
Caroline’s mouth fell open.
“Right, that is it,” Josh said, scowling. “I’m not having him treat you like shit. I don’t understand it. He’s perfectly nice to everybody else. I’m going to go and tell him exactly what I think of him and all his nonsense.”
“Josh, don’t,” Harriet said half-heartedly. In truth, she quite liked the idea of someone screaming at Tom on her behalf. Josh climbed to his feet, his features twisted into something scary.
“For goodness sake sit down,” Caroline said in her best stern lady of the manor tones.
Josh complied, though with obvious reluctance.
Harriet had her back to Tom’s table and although it took all her willpower, she avoided turning round to look at him.
Caroline, however, stared straight at his table, and despite her attempts at normal conversation, her expression grew gradually more strained.
“What is it?” Harriet whispered when she could stand it no longer. “What’s he doing?”
“Katie, by the looks of it,” said Caroline. “I can’t believe this.”
Turning her head slightly, Harriet saw for herself. He sat there holding the glamorous fresher, who looked absurdly pleased with herself. They snuggled into each other more by the second.
“He’s doing this on purpose,” Caroline said. “She’s been pursuing him all term, and he’s shown zero interest. He’s just trying to prove some idiotic point to you.”
“Well it’s certainly working,” Harriet whimpered. At that moment, Tom and Katie moved in for a kiss. She heard the cheers and laughs coming from Katie’s friends and could take no more. She stood up to leave. She noticed Tom break off the kiss for a second and glance in her direction, but then he turned back to Katie and she flung herself out of the door.
Harriet walked into the main quad, and tried to maintain her composure. The cool night air had a calming effect, but her face glowed with mortification. She just couldn’t understand Tom’s intentions, his wild mood swings. He’d worked so hard to make her warm to him tonight, make her almost listen to his bizarre theories, before publicly humiliating her. She wished she’d managed to slap him before leaving the bar.
Harriet walked round and round the college grounds in the hope that that the beauty of the buildings would soothe her, but after ten minutes of furious pacing, she gave up and went to her room. Despite her weakness and tiredness from the events of the night before, she doubted she’d be able to get to sleep, but had to try.
The moment she entered her staircase, the wonderful sight and smell of dozens of elaborate bouquets of red roses and white lilies overwhelmed her senses. With her attention focussed on the flowers, it took her a while to notice the envelope stuck to her door, fastened with sealing wax stamped with a crest. She opened it to find a handwritten letter.
Please accept my apologies for last night. I miscalculated the situation, and I didn’t
realise who you were. I am terribly sorry if I caused you pain, I absolutely didn’t mean to. Don’t worry; I can’t come in your room yet. However, I had someone let me into the staircase and have left the flowers as a further apology. I’d love to see you again. You’ll be perfectly safe – even if I wanted to do anything, I wouldn’t risk it considering what I now know. I’d like you to accompany me to the Cavaliers’ Winter Party on Friday night.
Call me.
Yours, George
He’d incongruously scribbled a mobile number underneath the text. Harriet read the letter several times, her heart pounding. The sensible thing would be to throw it away and do her best never to think of George again, but she wanted to know why he’d acted in the way he had and whether it had all been a joke that had gone too far. Tom clearly wouldn’t give her any sensible answers. Turning up at the Cavaliers’ party would show him she wasn’t going to be frightened by his ridiculous stories and going as the guest of someone even more glamorous than him would make it all the sweeter.
Nonetheless, Tom’s warnings played on her mind. She refused to even think about his vampire nonsense, but for all their charm and beauty, there was clearly something not quite right about either him or George. Harriet decided to sleep on it, but between her whirling thoughts and the aching cuts on her neck, she lay awake for hours.
Chapter Six
Oxford Blood (The Cavaliers: Book One) Page 16