Oxford Blood (3 page)

“Hi, I’m Harriet,” she finally managed to choke out.

“Tom. Delighted to meet you.” His voice was intensely posh,
just like the boys she’d fantasised about meeting at Oxford.

“What do you read Tom?” Katie asked, flicking her hair and
fluttering her eyelashes.

Harriet wished she could muster a tenth of her confidence.
She was usually fine around the opposite sex, but her heart wouldn’t stop
pounding.

“PPE,” he replied. Harriet was relieved that Katie had
already explained what that was. She’d never have dared to ask Tom. “But I’m a
second year. I thought I’d sneak in and get a first look at the freshers.” He
grinned at them and both girls smiled back.

“So have you had a chance to look around the college
properly yet? I could show you if you’d like.” His words were clearly for her
only. Katie looked furious.

“I’d love to. It’s just my family. I shouldn’t really leave
them.”

“Where are they? I’ll speak to them. We won’t be long.”

Knowing how uncomfortable her aunt was with her spending too
much time alone with boys, as well as how distrustful of upper class people she
could be, Harriet couldn’t see the conversation going well, but couldn’t resist
letting Tom give it a try.

“Good afternoon,” he said smoothly, walking across to them. “I’ve
just promised to show Harriet around the college properly. I hope you don’t
mind me borrowing her for half an hour. Perhaps you could look around the
college chapel whilst you wait. There’s some wonderful art works in there.”

He looked at her aunt and uncle intently. They seemed
slightly dazed, but nodded their consent and headed for the chapel.

“We’ll see you back at your room in a bit then love. Have
fun,” her aunt said.

“Well, that was easier than I’d have thought,” Harriet said.
“Shall we walk?”

It was already dark outside and the ancient buildings and
perfectly landscaped grounds were taking on an eerie air. Despite this, Harriet
couldn’t think of anywhere she’d rather be, or anyone she’d rather be with.

“Have you seen the Old Library?” he asked. “It tends to be
deserted.”

“No I haven’t, show me.”

Tom took her hand, causing her heart to beat faster than
ever, and led her to a small stone staircase built into part of the college’s
internal wall. He pulled out a decorated key and opened a heavy wooden door at
the top.

“It’s very dark in here,” Harriet said.

“Shall I turn on the lights or do you prefer it this way?”
Tom asked, still holding her hand tightly. “I rather like the dark, in this
sort of situation at least.”

Harriet giggled, but insisted on some lighting. Tom let go
of her whilst he flicked the switch. It lit up one bulb, high in the roof,
allowing Harriet to see the room but doing little to expel its gloom. She
glanced around, seeing a beamed roof, deep windows and row after row of ancient
leather covered books.

After a moment, Tom moved to stand behind her and began to
gently stroke her neck. His oddly forward behaviour caught Harriet off-guard,
but his touch felt wonderful, and she smiled up at him, wondering whether, if
he didn’t lean over and kiss her within the next few moments, she’d have the
guts to take the initiative herself. She’d had no trouble initiating
proceedings with the few boys from school that she’d been vaguely interested
in, but Tom was different. She felt as dizzy as the time she’d done a charity
sky dive and first looked out of the plane and down into the clouds.

Eventually he did kiss her, stroking her hair and drawing
her to him. As their lips touched, everything felt perfect. Harriet lost any
sense of being in the room. She was only aware of Tom.

His soft hands slipped under the collar of her polo necked
jumper. As his fingers found her necklace, he froze. Gingerly, he eased the
ruby studded engraved locket out from under her jumper and looked at it closely.

“What’s wrong?” Harriet asked, still breathless.

“Where did you get this?”

“From my mother, years ago. She had a screaming row with my
aunt and gave it to me to calm me down. I always thought it was beautiful, and
it helps remind me that she must love me really, to have given me such a lovely
gift.”

“So the woman I spoke to wasn’t your mother?”

“Oh no, that’s Aunt Kate. She brought me up but she isn’t my
real mum. You’d never have made her agree to let you do what you wanted so
easily.”

“No, I dare say I wouldn’t have done,” Tom said, looking
suddenly nervous. “All this talk about your aunt reminds me, you should be
getting back to her. We’ll have all the time in the world to get to know each
other properly.”

Harriet felt thrown by the turn events had taken, but
nodded. Her aunt was probably panicking already.

He gave her a brief kiss on the cheek, and then ushered her
towards the door.

“Aren’t you coming too?”

“I need to make a phone call. Maybe I’ll see you at the club
later.”

***

Harriet found her aunt and uncle back in her room, admiring
the view out into the quad. They didn’t ask where she’d been. The entire
meeting with Tom had been so intense she almost wondered if she’d imagined it.
She twirled the necklace thoughtfully, wondering again at Tom’s odd reaction to
it.

Shortly afterwards, her aunt and uncle decided to begin the
long drive back home. Harriet walked with them to the car. As she hugged them,
the euphoria she had been feeling all day slipped and for a moment she felt a
flash of loneliness, suddenly conscious of the fact that they would be going
without her and she would have to fend for herself. And then they were driving
out of the giant gates and were gone.

Whilst they’d been around, exclaiming at the lovely
buildings and fussing over her, she’d been able to pretend this was just a day
trip to another world. Now however, the fact that this surreal medieval complex
was to be her home for the next three years was slowly sinking in.

Harriet went back to her new room, and excitement about the
evening ahead began to wipe away her panic. According to her welcome booklet,
there was going to be a formal dinner in the hall, followed by a trip en masse
to a club in town. She couldn’t wait for the meal, looking forward to diving
deeper into the world of privilege. The prospect of a night out afterwards was
just as appealing. Whilst she was no stranger to the clubs of her hometown,
this would be her first time clubbing away from home – no aunt to suggest she
wore something more sensible or to worry if she came home late. And maybe, just
maybe, she’d see Tom again and anything could happen.

After much internal debate over what to wear, she settled on
a bronze coloured mini dress with little blue jewelled shapes on it. It clung lightly
to her chest and billowed out to skim around her thighs. She wore opaque tights
to make the look cooler and less revealing. Praying that she’d be able to dance
in them all night, she added blue and silver suede heels Over it all, she put
on the most important bit of the outfit – her gown. This was the first
opportunity she’d had to wear it, and despite the fact that the short, plain
and baggy garment was fundamentally unflattering, she loved it for what it
represented.

As she got herself ready, Harriet gradually became aware of
the sound of a piano being played beautifully in the room next door. She
wondered who was living there, and considered knocking on the door, but didn’t
want to interrupt them. After a while however, the music stopped, and seconds
later, there was a knock on her door. She opened it to see a boy with messy
dirty-blond curls, tight jeans and a T-shirt bearing the name and logo of an
obscure band.

“Hey, looks as though we’re neighbours,” he said, radiating
genuine friendliness through his thick West Country accent.

Harriet was staring at him in amazement. If she’d met him
just a few hours earlier, she was sure she’d have been flirting with the
angelic looking boy, but since their meeting, the only person she’d been able
to think about was Tom.

“Was that you playing the piano?” she asked.

“Yeah. I hope I wasn’t disturbing you. I’m a music student
so I’ll have to practise a lot, but feel free to knock if you’re ever trying to
sleep or concentrate and I’m getting on your nerves.”

“Don’t be silly, it was lovely. Really soothing.”

The boy seemed crestfallen. “Oh? Soothing? I meant it to be
dark and disturbing. I’m going to have to try harder.”

 “Are you going to come and eat?” she asked, keen to change
the subject rather than demonstrate her lack of musical knowledge. “I think
it’s nearly teatime.”

“Actually, that’s the main reason I came round, to see if
you’re coming down to dinner.”

Dinner
.  Harriet made a mental note not to call it
tea in future. As they walked to the hall, he explained that he was from
Somerset and that his name was Josh. As well as playing the piano, he sang in
the college choir.

Harriet knew she was being silly but was glad to have
avoided walking to the dinner alone. The dining hall was in the oldest bit of
the college, a dark stone four sided cloisters, covered with a beamed roof but
with old glassless windows opening onto a central patch of perfect grass. There
were mysterious doors at irregular intervals along the ancient walls. Harriet
could only presume they led into tutors rooms and meeting rooms, but wouldn’t
have been overly surprised to discover that they were doorways into other
worlds. She shivered from a mixture of the cold and the atmosphere.

At her side, Josh laughed. “It’ll be warmer and friendlier
inside the hall I promise.”

They reached the sweeping stone staircase to hall. People
were already queuing to get in. As soon as they ascended, they were hit by a
welcome blast of warm air from the kitchens.

As she walked into the hall, Harriet stared in amazement. It
was huge – long and wide and high ceilinged. Windows decorated with various
crests alternated with giant portraits of kings and soldiers and famous alumni.
Some, like Queen Elizabeth I she recognised immediately; others were a puzzle. Long
wooden tables filled the hall, each of them covered in candles and silverware
and seating around twenty people.

At first, she just stood there staring, until she noticed a
large noticeboard on which a seating plan was pinned. People were grouped with
others reading the same subject as them. She quickly found her name and spied Olamide
sitting under a painting of a Civil War soldier with a few other history
students that she vaguely recognised from that afternoon. She went to join
them, reluctantly saying goodbye to Josh who had been placed at the opposite
end of the hall with the other music students. She took her place, between a
quiet, studious boy called Callum, and Caroline, a bubbly blond posh girl, whom
she’d spoken to briefly earlier in the day but not had a proper conversation
with.

“Sooo, you settled in now?” she drawled, in a tone that
Harriet couldn’t quite decided whether to regard as mocking or friendly.

“Just about. I’m definitely feeling settled enough for a bit
of dancing after tea. I mean dinner.”

“Excellent. Good to know you’re not one of those people who
just don’t want to leave their room.”

Olamide sat opposite her, but she was already so deeply
involved in a very academic sounding conversation with the middle-aged tutor to
her right that she seemed entirely unaware of the presence of any other
students at the table.

Harriet was torn between trying to speak to a tutor herself
and maybe impressing them, and just chatting to Caroline and soaking up the
ambience. A waiter came round and poured some white wine. Harriet took a few
sips in quick succession and felt herself beginning to relax.

There was a large amount of cutlery and glassware. Harriet
wasn’t entirely sure which to use first. At the start of each course, she took
a surreptitious glance at Caroline and copied her. The blonde girl appeared to
not even be consciously thinking about the issue, as relaxed as though she was
at her local pub. Harriet’s thoughts drifted back to the Draughtman’s, and the
leaving party they’d thrown her a few days previously. It all seemed a million
miles away.

“You just start from the outside and work your way in,”
Caroline whispered kindly but with a hint of amusement, catching Harriet’s eye
as another course began.

“Well, that’s simpler than I thought,” she replied, trying
not to sound too embarrassed.

The food was delicious. There was a spiced soup followed by
chicken in a mushroom sauce, and finally a raspberry torte. As they eat and
drank, Harriet found herself talking to Caroline as easily and naturally as if
she’d known her forever. So far, her conversations with her fellow students
hadn’t moved much beyond the level of small talk, but the two of them talked
about their life before they’d arrived, their thoughts about Oxford and on into
music and plans and gossip.

“There’s someone we’ve got to keep an eye out for tonight,”
Caroline said conspiratorially. “He’s a law student so he’s sat right at the
other end of the hall for now, but in the club I’m going to track him down.”

“So what’s Mr Lawyer’s name?” Harriet replied.

Caroline giggled and took a few sips of drink. “I probably
shouldn’t say actually.”

“Oh come on,” Harriet answered. “You can’t tell me this much
and then stop.”

“Okay fine. He’s called Ben, but for goodness sake don’t
tell him I said anything. I met him this afternoon.”

“Did anything happen?” asked Harriet, eager for freshers’
week scandal.

“Sadly not. We flirted a bit but there’s a limit to how far
you can go at a tea party with your parents present. In a club though, now
that’s a different story. He’s fit. And he seems a real laugh.”

By now, they’d finished eating, and as Caroline finished
speaking, the President of the College banged a hammer. Everyone stood and
Harriet quickly did the same. He intoned a brief prayer in Latin before leaving
the room, with the other professors and fellows.