***
Despite the enforced night out, Harriet woke early on Thursday. The worry overwhelmed her 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 had been palpable last night. Of course, the rest of the slate didn’t know about their ‘condition,’ and seemed puzzled about why the two boys were hiding away on Election Day. Edward had ordered Matt, another Standing Committee candidate and prospective Cavalier, to hold the fort at his 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 Returning Officer tended to release the results around 5am, and the Union would be open all night. Soaking up the atmosphere there would be enjoyable later on, but for the moment, with hours until the results were due, she couldn’t stand the 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. Its location was reasonably convenient for getting to the Union in time, but far enough away that other candidates or people with an interest in the election shouldn’t bother them. 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 Union would release the results before sunrise so that Tom could be there to congratulate or console her.
Despite the good food and the fantastic company, Harriet could think about nothing but whether she’d gained enough votes. 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 his approach made sense. 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.”
They arrived at 11 o’clock and pushed their way into the crowded Victorian building. Harriet could instantly distinguish the candidates from the interested observers – the latter relaxed on sofas and sipped cocktails, while the former paced up and down the stairs in a whirl of nervous energy, either not drinking at all or getting absolutely wrecked. Close to, the bloodshot eyes and washed out complexions made their exhaustion 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. Harriet envied the vampires their absolute poise.
Harriet talked briefly to an utterly dazed Catherine. Her bubbly and cheerful facade showed no signs of cracking, 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 vote counting room, so drunk that he struggled 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. She snuggled into Tom whilst he kept an eye on her and made sure she didn’t miss the results. The nap left her with stiff muscles but slightly more energy. She groaned on discovering that the organisers still hadn’t counted all the votes. How much longer could she take the pressure?
Finally, at 4 a.m. 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.”
Through the crowded room, Harriet could only see the imposing announcer. She took deep breaths, digging her nails into her palm. Tom stood behind her with a hand on her shoulder.
“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.
The announcer moved on to the Secretary result. Despite being a relatively junior office, 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 to hide her surprise. She hadn’t been sure whether Harry would win or lose, but had expected it to be close. Instead, his opponent had won 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 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. Harriet knew the Cavaliers hadn’t selected him as a potential member. Maybe this victory 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 ah
ead. “Edward Howard-Jones received 750 votes; Julia Jenkinson received 500. Mr Howard-Jones is duly elected.”
Cheering echoed around the room, 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 mumbled his assent.
“Congratulations, Harriet,” George added, kissing her 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). 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 his victory still represented an achievement, and he could be rather fun when the odious Crispin wasn’t around.
She reached him as he stretched 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. Everyone mentioned her charm, sweetness, and politeness. Now though, she looked utterly manic, eyes narrowed and teeth bared in something resembling a snarl.
“Oh, I won’t lose any sleep over it,” she said loudly. “At least I didn’t kill my own sister.” The entire room stared as 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 they covered up?
Harriet’s reserve of adrenaline fell away and exhaustion rushed in to take its place. She’d hoped that Tom would have come back, but she couldn’t see him anywhere.
She looked for Ben in the hope that he could walk her home in Tom’s absence, then remembered that, despite the presence of most of the other Cavalier candidates, he had insisted on an early night. He wanted to be on his best form for the third day of Torpids. Lilith had neither bumped nor been bumped that day, so remained in second place, but victory could be in sight in the morning.
She’d just have to go home alone. Enjoying the hugs and congratulations that followed her as she left, she decided to get herself to bed before she passed out in the Union.
.
Chapter Twelve