Oxford Blood (The Cavaliers: Book One)
Page 33
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That week couldn’t have been more different from the endless parties of fresher’s week. Whilst everyone wanted to go for a quiet drink and catch up after the holidays, nights out and wild parties were quite definitely off the cards until Collections were over. Only the promise of a toga bop on Saturday kept them sustained.
Harriet twisted the chain of her crucifix necklace around her fingers as she went into the dining hall early on Friday morning to take the exam. The thought of the three-hour test exhausted her. If only she’d done more work over the holidays. The atmosphere in the room didn’t help her nerves. She associated it with cheerful mealtimes, so it was odd to see it silent and full of worried people.
In the end, the combination of genuine interest, a few days of focussed revision and George’s ever-helpful memories meant that questions on the Civil War went smoothly, even if it took all her self-control not to mention vampires or write offensive things about Prince Rupert’s prowess as a commander. Her answers on the Dissolution of the Monasteries and factions at the court of Elizabeth I were less polished, but probably passable.
Stepping out of the hall and into cloisters, a weight floated off her shoulders.
“Phew, that was grim,” said Caroline, falling into place beside her. “How was it for you?”
“All right I suppose. Could have been better, could have been worse. It’s over now at least.”
“I’ll drink to that. I’m so glad I picked History. Ben’s back in this afternoon for another law exam, and I think the PPE-ists have that and then a third tomorrow morning.”
“No wonder people say History’s a dosser’s subject,” Harriet said, laughing. She couldn’t imagine having to go back in for another round.
“Speaking of PPE-ists, where’s Tom? I know he’s not the keenest student, but surely even he isn’t going to miss Collections?”
Harriet didn’t actually know whether the college permitted the vampires to miss out on Collections altogether or whether they made special nighttime arrangements. “Oh, he’s dyslexic, so he takes the exam by himself in a different room and gets extra time,” she said, with a sudden flash of inspiration. Someone had mentioned that that was what they did.
“Fair enough,” said Caroline. “Now, what would you say to brunch at the Grand Cafe? Maybe with a glass of champagne?”