“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 comfo
rting.
“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.”
Tom glared as George led him to the other Cavaliers (save Edward who was still celebrating) at the door. Once the two of them arrived, the group left en masse. Harriet decided to ignore them and congratulate Edward. Even if he’d had all the power of the Cavaliers behind him it was still an achievement and although he could be irritating, he was rather fun when the odious Crispin wasn’t around.
She reached him as he reached out a hand to the defeated Julia.
“I’m sorry you didn’t win, it was a pleasure to compete against you,” he said to her in his loud drawling tones.
Harriet had only ever heard positive things about Julia, who was by all accounts always charming, sweet and polite. Now though she looked utterly manic.
“Oh, I won’t lose any sleep over it,” she said loudly. “At least I didn’t kill my own sister.” As the entire room stared, she swept from the room with her retinue of college friends.
Harriet didn’t know what to make of her comment. Sure, Edward was a vampire, but could he really have killed his sister? If so, how had it been covered up?
She felt freshly exhausted as the adrenaline fell away. She’d been hoping that Tom would have come back but there was no sign of him. She’d thought that Ben would be there, as most of the other Cavalier candidates were in attendance, but with the third day of Torpids approaching (Lilith had neither bumped nor been bumped that day, so were still in second place), he’d insisted on an early night. Harriet shrugged, and enjoying the hugs and congratulations that followed her as she left, decided to get herself to bed before she passed out in the Union.
Chapter Twelve
The Union garden was entirely dark, and oddly quiet apart from distant sounds emanating from the bar. Harriet had only ever really been in the garden during the day or early evening when it was full of people spilling out of a debate or a party.
“So are you pleased with the results?” George asked, appearing out of the shadows.
Harriet almost screamed. “I’m pleased for myself and I’m glad Edward made it,” she said hurriedly, her heart pounding, from the shock and from George’s proximity. “I feel sorry for Harry but I can’t help but feel that the best person won.”
“That echoes my thoughts more or less exactly. Poor arrogant Harry. He’s not going to be inducted into the Cavaliers after that sort of failure.”
So Harry would never become a vampire. Harriet wasn’t sure that was necessarily a bad thing, but knew that missing out would add insult to injury for the crushed and defeated boy.
“So is that where you all went? To chase after Harry and tell him ‘sorry you lost the election, oh by the way forget joining the Cavaliers?’ That seems rather harsh.”
“We are rather harsh Harriet. Perhaps more than you realise. In essence, that’s indeed where they’ve gone. It technically requires the full committee to be there, hence why I summoned Tom. But Rupert and I are for once agreed on this and I’ve given my vote to him.”
He walked towards the gate, beckoning Harriet to follow. She knew that she shouldn’t, but walked towards him anyway.
“I may have all the time in the world but I still don’t want to waste any of it in dealing with a failed hack. I have much better things to do. Getting you back to college for a start.”
“That’s really not such a great idea,” Harriet said firmly, starting to walk down the street. “You know where I stand and I think it’s best we don’t confuse that by spending time alone.”
“Don’t think you’ll be able to resist me, is that it?” George asked, mockingly.
“Not if you decide to mesmerise me then no, I don’t.”
George laughed, his blonde hair shining under the streetlights. She noticed some female students across the road staring at him with looks of hunger and awe. Sometimes she thought it would be wonderful to not even try to fight him, but she focussed on Tom and felt ashamed.
“Oh is that what you’re worried about? I heard about Her Majesty’s stunt with your necklace. Very generous of her, you must pass on my thanks. I’m not going to stoop so low though –that’d be far too easy.”
Almost against her will, Harriet had fallen into step with him. They were walking down Broad Street, going in the right direction for her college but not his. She briefly considered making another attempt at getting rid of him, but if she was honest, after her victory she was glad of the company. Besides, there were things she wanted to know.
“Really? So I’m supposed to rely on your honour or something. Forgive me if that doesn’t massively fill me with confidence.” Harriet faltered as she remembered something that had been confusing her all term. “Although I have to admit you’ve had plenty of chances to use your mind tricks at all the Union events and seem to have resisted the temptation.”
“Exactly. I mean what I said. It would be far too easy. Mind tricks are very useful to get a girl in a hurry and to ensure she’s compliant when I want to drink from her. But even in those situations I think you’ll find I’m attractive and charming enough not to need any magic until the very last minute.”
Harriet rolled her eyes. “Yes, yes, you’re God’s gift to
women, blah blah blah. We’ve gone over this before. What’s your point?”
“The point is that I’ve never really needed magic and mind control to get what I want, it’s just a useful extra. I don’t really enjoy using it for one night stands, I wouldn’t dream of it when I’m trying to seduce someone who could be my soul mate, someone who I could turn.”
Harriet couldn’t help but feel a little thrill at his words. She decided that if she wasn’t going to have the willpower to send him away then at the very least a change of subject was required.
“Anyway, did you hear Julia’s outburst? Is it true what she said about Edward killing his sister? I couldn’t imagine it of him but he is one of you and I still don’t entirely understand what you’re all capable of.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, of course Edward didn’t kill his sister. He and Alice were twins, as close as anything. She was a lovely girl; I’ve tasted her blood once or twice myself.”
Harriet tried to ignore the last point. “So where did Julia get that idea from?”
“Oh, Charles killed her after he was turned. We told everyone she’d been in a crash and everyone seemed to have bought the story. Our people sorted out the post-mortem results and we spread a few false memories. Julia and Alice were apparently at school together though and very good friends. She must have looked into her death a little more deeply than most and jumped to slightly the wrong conclusion.”
They walked on in silence, stepping past the Sheldonian with its imposing stone busts and turning onto Holywell Street. At 5am on a Thursday night, the road was almost deserted. It was a creepy place at the best of times, with the cast iron street lamps spilling pools of light onto the old stone buildings. The talk of killings made her acutely aware that she was alone with a powerful vampire whom she’d recently gone out of her way to reject and offend. She wanted desperately to be safely back in her room. She knew she ought not to interfere with vampire politics (she found the student variety stressful enough) but couldn’t resist speaking her thoughts out loud.
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