The Oxford Set
“I still own the pen I used to handwrite my dissertation,” renowned historian Ben Jones said, holding a purple fountain pen aloft, before placing it back in his pocket. “I’m not one to feel any sense of nostalgia or sentimentality, but the pen is one of the few exceptions.”
“I’m glad you kept it,” Professor Charles Atwooll, Ben’s former lecturer at Oxford, said, smiling warmly. “It’s healthy to have some recollection of how you obtained the successful career you have.”
“Indeed,” Ben said, taking a sip of his wine.
The two men were seated in the main hall of an ornate Natural History Museum, attending the reunion of former students of the prestigious university that owned it.
Most of the people present hadn’t seen each other in the seven years since they graduated, unless they were married or related, but there was one clique that was the exception.
Ben was a member of a group of twelve friends who met at the university and had become a second family to each other, albeit a highly dysfunctional one.
His wife, Alice, whom he met whilst they were studying after his sister introduced them, examined a large woolly mammoth skeleton.
She tilted her head to observe the mammoth’s large tusks better.
Alice furrowed her brow, grimacing at the sight in front of her.
“They’re replicas, carved from marble,” John Taylor, the curator of the museum, said as he strode into view beside Alice.
Alice glanced at him. “How did you?”
A grin appeared on John’s face. “I can read your mind.”
Alice pouted and nodded her head.
She was startled by the sound of an elephant roaring, which seemed to come from somewhere in the museum.
Alice scanned her surroundings, but could not find any obvious elephant in the room.
“It’s a marvellous specimen, isn’t it?” John said, smiling at the skeleton in front of him.
Alice snapped back into reality and gawped at her guide. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess it is.”
She found an empty plastic water bottle standing on top of a display cabinet.
Alice frowned at the senseless littering and pocketed the offending item.
“The skeleton came to our attention a few years ago when a group of our archaeologists excavated it on Wrangle Island,” John said, his passion for the exhibit gleaming in his eyes.
“Yeah, great,” Alice said, clutching her stomach as it started to growl.
She eyed a long table in the distance, upon it were a vast array of vol-au-vents, Somosas, and other sweet and savoury nibbles.
She smiled at the curator. “Look, I’m hungry, so I’m gonna get some food.”
The curator beamed and bowed his head. “Great, a pleasure talking to you.”
“And you,” Alice said, before tearing herself away from him and making a beeline for the food.
As she got to the table and started stacking her plate, her husband joined her and did the same.
“The Anthropology Museum has an intriguing display of Persian rugs at the moment,” Ben said, placing some Sausage Rolls onto his plate. “I thought we could hop across next door when you’ve had your fill here.”
Alice simpered at him. “Yeah, sure, that’d be great. There are just a few other people I’d like to catch up with first, and then we can go.”
Ben smiled as he placed a cocktail sausage into his mouth. “Excellent. How are you finding it, anyway? Not too dull, I hope.”
“It’s ok,” Alice said, nibbling on a bit of cheese. “It’s nice to see everyone again.”
An elephant’s trumpet made her lose track of what Ben was saying.
She glanced around and saw a Woolly Mammoth stalking the walls of the museum.
It brushed against a taxidermied horse.
Alice blinked, and the mammoth disappeared.
Her gaze refocused on her husband. “My imagination’s running a bit wild though.”
Ben chuckled. “I see.”
Alice pointed towards the Woolly Mammoth skeleton. “I was looking at that Mammoth, hoping those tusks weren’t actual ivory, and then I saw a live Mammoth roaming the museum.”
Ben glanced around the crowds of people himself. “I can assure you that there are no Mammoths here.”
“I know, it’s just weird,” Alice said, sipping at her cocktail. “These drinks have an interesting flavour, don’t you think?”
“Yes,” Ben said, examining his glass. “I believe it Promigranet juice infuses the drink.”
Alice nodded. “Nice.”
She ate some more of her meal, but then the hairs stood up on the back of her neck.
Alice gently stroked it and turned around, sure someone was watching her.
Amongst the crowd, a woman of a similar age to her was staring at her.
She wore a black T-shirt with ‘Save the Woolly Mammoth’ emblazoned in white lettering.
Alice scanned the various guests.
“I’m gonna find those people now, and then we can leave as soon as,” Alice said, facing Ben head-on, but glancing behind her to check that no one else was watching her.
“Excellent,” Ben said, wringing his hands. “Take all the time you need, I’m sure I can survive a few more minutes of banal conversation.”
“Sure,” Alice said, before melting into the crowds.
Before she could get very far, the woman in the t-shirt blocked her path, standing an inch away from her.
Alice recoiled, trying to find a way around her, but couldn’t.
“You were interested in the Mammoth, weren’t you?” the woman said. “And you saw its ghost?”
“Well, yeah, I guess,” Alice said, her heart racing at the sound of the Mammoth roaring.
The woman gave Alice a flier. “I’m Colleen Langley, a member of the Save the Woolly Mammoth Initiative.”
Alice skimmed the literature in her hand. “I’m sorry to say, but isn’t it a little too late for that? I mean, the Woolly Mammoth went extinct about 4,000 years ago.”
Colleen smiled. “I mean the skeleton. Arthur Narcross realised that the Mammoth’s soul was trapped in the museum alongside its body when the museum first displayed it.”
Alice eyed the skeleton in the distance. “Right.”
“Arthur was determined to return the Mammoth to Wrangle Island so it could continue to roam the plains happily. He never gave up hope, despite the museum’s reluctance to part with it.”
Alice watched the Mammoth stomp around the museum, trumpeting, then observed her husband chatting to others in the room.
“Are we sure it’s actually a ghost?” Alice said, returning her focus to Colleen. “Instead of, you know, a manifestation of our emotions upon seeing the exhibit?”
Colleen nodded. “Yes. People have only spotted the ghost since the museum installed the skeleton, and it looks very distressed.”
Alice flinched as the Mammoth tooted once more.
She observed it lying flat on its face at the far north end of the museum, waving its trunk.
“If you’re that sure, then couldn’t you get in an exorcist?” Alice said, removing the water bottle from her pocket.
She examined the clear liquid in the bottle and saw tiny fragments of a dissolved label floating in it.
Colleen scoffed. “What, and transport the poor thing to another place it’s unfamiliar with instead of the home it’s known for millennia? Get real.”
“Look, I’m not exactly sure if there’s a heaven or an afterlife,” Alice said, slipping the water bottle back into her bag. “I’m not even sure that ghosts are real, but surely anywhere is better than roaming the Earth forever after you’ve died?”
Colleen crossed her arms and glared at Alice. “Not if it’s a place you have happy memories of.”
Alice observed the mammoth as it trundled along the perimeter of the hall.
She refocused on Coleen and smiled. “Your view on the mammoth really is fascinating, as is the work you’re doing, but I have other people to see. I’m gonna go now.”
Colleen nodded. “Fine, fine. Have a pamphlet anyway.”
She thrust a glossy sheet of paper into Alice’s hands and morphed into the crowds.
Alice skimmed the literature as she ventured into the sweaty crowd herself.
Ben tapped her on the shoulder, startling her, before she turned round to see him.
“I’m going to the Anthropology Museum now. You can meet me there when you’re ready.”
“Yeah, sure,” Alice said, kissing him goodbye.
He put on his hat and marched towards the exit.
Alice watched him for a moment before the Mammoth distracted her.
It did look quite lonely, she thought, and lost in the strange museum it found itself in.
Still, she didn’t know what good moving the skeleton back to Wrangle Island would do.
“Alice,” a woman said behind Alice, causing her to turn round.
Her eyes widened, and she screamed as she saw her old friend Ruby Ayers, who yelled back at her.
They gave each other a warm embrace.
“How are you doing?” Alice said. “I haven’t seen you in ages.”
“I’m fine, kicking along,” Ruby said, before moving closer to Alice. “Have you spoken to Matilda? She doesn’t remember who I am.”
“She’s taught a lot of people in her time, Ruby,” Alice said, placing a hand on her shoulder. “We were just a small part of that.”
“I suppose,” Ruby said, sighing. “Anyway, did you hear about the Mammoth?”
Alice glanced at the statuesque skeleton, and the soul that once inhabited it seemed to be examining a T. rex skeleton.
“Yeah, I did,” Alice said. “Did that woman accost you, too?”
Ruby gawped. “No, no. Someone told me the museum actually stole the skeleton.”
Alice stared at Ruby wide-eyed. “What?! I thought that stopped centuries ago.”
Ruby shook her head. “The Russians had already secured it for the State Darwin Museum in Moscow, but the British archaeologists snuck in there and took the skeleton to the museum here.”
Alice chuckles. “That sounds a little ridiculous if you ask me. The archaeology community has a lot of respect for each other.”
“That’s what they told me,” Ruby said, sipping her mulled wine.
Alice flinched at the sound of the Mammoth’s roar and scanned the room to search for it.
The Mammuthus stumbled towards the large Christmas tree situated at the bottom end of the hall and bumped into it.
“No,” Alice said, reaching her arms out towards the tree and jogging a few steps forward.
But it was no use; the tree fell to the ground with a thud, startling those closest to it.
Alice’s arms flopped towards the ground as she sighed.
“No,” she said under her breath, frowning at the tree.
Ruby gawped at her friend before turning round and gasping at the fallen fir.
“It must have taken a lot of force to push that over,” Ruby said, staring wide-eyed as a group of people banded together to push the tree upright again.
“Yeah,” Alice said, watching the Mammoth as it traversed around the other side of the hall.
Someone tapped on the shoulder, making her jump and shoot around, but it was only Ben.
“There’s a beautiful mahogany writing desk for sale outside,” Ben said. “I’m thinking of buying it if you’ll allow me.”
“Yeah, sure. Knock yourself out,” Alice said, turning back towards the tree.
Ben subtly bowed his head and marched towards the exit.
“Did you see what happened?” Ruby said, still transfixed by the tree fiasco.
Alice sighed and frowned at the tree. “The mammoth knocked it over.”
Ruby laughed.
“I mean it, Ruby,” Alice said. “I know it sounds nuts, but I think the mammoth may haunt the museum.”
Ruby chuckled again, but Alice glowered at her.
Ruby’s mouth shrank into a small line. “You’re actually serious?”
“I wish I weren’t,” Alice said. “But I’ve seen this mammoth skulk around the edges of the museum ever since I got here, but I assumed it was just in my head, having seen the skeleton.”
Ruby crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. “But because the Christmas tree actually fell over, you believe a Woolly Mammoth is really haunting the museum.”
Alice sighed. “Yeah, unfortunately.”
Ruby tilted her head and examined the woman in front of her, “I’d like to believe what you say, but somehow I can’t.”
“I totally get that,” Alice said. “The only person who will is that girl who believes the museum should return the Mammoth to Wrangle Island.”
Ruby nodded her head. “That would make sense, considering it’s stolen property anyway, but I’m pretty sure the mammoth isn’t haunting the museum.”
Alice felt something brush against the back of her neck.
She touched it and turned round, meeting the mammoth eye to eye.
“Can you not see that?” Alice said, backing away from the mammoth’s trunk.
Ruby gawped at her friend. “No. I see you acting strangely.”
Alice stared at Ruby wide-eyed, her face growing pale. “Seriously?!”
“Yes,” Ruby said. “But don’t worry, you’re not the only one who appears to have gone a bit goo-gah since graduating. I was talking to Albert earlier, and he’s definitely become a lot more arrogant and callous than he used to.”
Alice nodded her head, her wet, bulbous eyes glistening underneath the museum’s lights.
“It’s a shame, he used to be kind and friendly when we were students, now he’s someone else,” Ruby said, gazing into space.
Alice sighed as the mammoth moved away from her, and she regained her breath as she rested her hands on her knees.
Ruby drew her eyebrows together and moved closer to Alice. “Are you ok? You’re not having another anxiety attack, are you?”
Alice shot back up and gulped in a breath.
She faced Ruby, forcing a smile. “I’m fine. Never better.”
Alice scanned the room until her eyes fell on the anteroom between the Natural History and Anthropology Museums.
She turned back towards Ruby. “I’m gonna go now, but it’s been great catching up with you.”
Ruby smiled at Alice. “And you. We should meet up sometime.”
“That’d be great. Hit me up, and we can plan something,” Alice said, bringing Ruby into a tight embrace.
“Are you sure you’re ok?” Ruby said, lightly squeezing Alice’s shoulders.
Alice stepped over to the exit, still focusing on Ruby. “Yeah. Don’t worry, I’ll see you soon. Bye.”
Ruby waved Alice goodbye as Alice broke into a jog and vacated the Natural History Museum.
She slowly lowered her arm, frowning at the anteroom, before melting into the crowd.
“I’m glad that my books have inspired you,” Ben said to Ezra Ludgate, a current student, as he signed their copy of one of his books with a black pen.
“Absolutely,” Ezra said, nodding vigorously. “Very few people are brave enough now to hold the view that Richard III was actually a child murdering tyrant.”
Alice tiptoed over to Ben after she espied him at the back of the Anthropology Museum.
Ben nodded his head and closed his eyes. “Yes. I understand that the idea of a man ordering the brutal murder of his own nephews is hard to stomach, but the Medieval Era was a starkly different time from our own, and he was a king wanting to cling to power; we need to accept that.”
Alice tapped Ben on the shoulder, making him shoot around.
He lightly hugged her and kissed her.
“Alice Jones!” Ezra said, his eyes wild and a manic grin on their face. “I’m a huge fan, truly.”
Alice smiled back at the student. “Great. Pleasure to meet you.”
“I almost studied Archaeology because of you,” Ezra said. “Before I settled on History.”
“Wow,” Alice said, smiling warmly. “I’m honoured.”
The student took a step back and gestured to the couple before them. “This makes absolute sense, honestly.”
“Yeah,” Alice said, gazing at Ben and wrapping her arm around his waist. “We thought so too.”
She kissed him on the cheek, making him tingle.
“I have been involved in archaeological digs, though,” Ezra said. “I recently convinced the university to visit the excavation of a Woolly Mammoth on Wrangel Island”
Alice’s eyes bulged, and her brow furrowed. “Really?”
“Yes,” Ezra said. “I heard that a group of archaeologists had discovered the Mammoth and knew that we needed to have a look at it.”
Alice narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips. “Interesting.”
“I’m impressed that you’re able to decipher the Russian alphabet,” Ben said.
“The article I read was in English,” the student said. “But yes, I do have some knowledge of the Russian language.”
Alice crossed her arms. “So some Russian archaeologists had already excavated the Mammoth?”
“Yes,” Ezra said. “But there was still enough time for a group of our archaeologists to band together and examine the find ourselves.”
Alice pressed her lips flat. “Yes. Clearly.”
“The skeleton is in the Natural History Museum if you’d like to take a look at it,” Ezra said, gesturing towards the museum. “It’s really a fine specimen.”
“I’ve already seen it,” Alice said, lowering her head. “Well done in locating it.”
“Thank you,” Ezra said, before backing away. “I need to go and study, but it was great to meet you finally.”
“And you,” Alice said, sneering at the young student.
Ben bowed his head.
Ezra pointed at the couple before leaving them. “This is adorable, seriously.”
The Joneses watched as Ezra skipped out of the museum.
“It’s nice to meet our fans every so often,” Ben said, gravitating towards the shrunken heads in the cabinet next to him.
“Our college stole the skeleton,” Alice said. “That kid didn’t lead an actual expedition. He just got some people to snatch the mammoth from the Russians and bring it over here.”
Ben wrinkled his brow as he observed his wife. “What makes you say that?”
“I spoke to a woman earlier who was part of an initiative to return the mammoth to Wrangle Island,” Alice said. “Then Ruby told me about rumours of us stealing the mammoth skeleton.”
Ben squinted at Alice. “And you believe those rumours are true because?”
“I just think that guy seemed a little fishy,” Alice said. “His story was a little too vague for my liking, like there was something he wasn’t telling us.”
“I see,” Ben said, staring at Alice through narrow eyes.
He drew his attention back to the shrunken heads in the cabinet next to him.
Alice inspected some of the exhibits herself, but a woman talking to a member of staff behind her caught her attention.
“I understand you want to create an authentic experience, but do the animal sounds in the Natural History Museum really need to be so loud?” She said.
The member of staff laughed. “I don’t know what you mean. We don’t play animal sounds on speakers.”
“Can you not hear the elephant?” The woman said, scowling at the staff member. “Trumpeting every five minutes?”
As if on queue, the mammoth hooting across the hall in the Natural History Museum.
“There it is again,” the woman said, dramatically pointing in the direction of the NHM, “I admit it’s quieter in here, but in there it’s really distracting.”
The member of staff gawped at the woman. “I honestly have no idea what you’re talking about. There are no animal sounds playing in the museum, elephant or otherwise.”
Alice took a deep breath and leaned closer to Ben.
“There was something else that I didn’t mention,” Alice said.
Ben glanced at her and raised an eyebrow. “Which is?”
Alice closed her eyes and gulped. “I think the Woolly Mammoth haunts the Museum of Natural History.”
Ben laughed in Alice’s face. “Are you serious?”
Alice’s cheeks became slightly rosy. “Yeah. I mean, I’m happy for you to explain it away, but otherwise I’m pretty sure.”
The couple slowly traversed the museum, viewing the exhibits.
“I acknowledge that something is haunting the museum we’re currently in,” Ben said, eyeing a pair of Roman glasses seated on a table inside one of the cabinets. “But only the memories of a dark and shameful past, rather than the physical presence of one’s soul.”
“That doesn’t really explain why I could see an actual mammoth in the museum, Ben,” Alice said. “Or why I could hear it roaring, or why everyone in the museum could see the Christmas tree it pushed over fall.”
“Someone could have easily bumped into it,” Ben said. “As far as why you beleive you saw a Woolly Mammoth, that was simply a manifestation of your emotions upon seeing the Woolly Mammoth skeleton.”
Alice crossed her arms and glared at Ben. “A Woolly Mammoth is genuinely said to haunt the Oxford Museum of Natural History, Ben. The initiative to return the skeleton to Wrangle Island wants to do so because they think the mammoth’s soul was still attached to the skeleton and came over to Oxford as well. They want it to return home.”
Ben’s forehead wrinkled. “Well, they’re clearly insane, somehow more so than the Richard III Society.”
“I get why you think this is nuts,” Alice said. “And I truly hope you’re correct, but I can’t deny the fact that I saw a Woolly Mammoth in the museum.”
Ben gawped at Alice for a second, then pivoted round to examine an etched stone slab.
“Look at the stone, Alice,” Ben said, pointing at the tablet but making sure not to smear the glass. “It is the beginning of some correspondence, but the message is incomplete.”
Alice edged closer to the cabinet and stared at the stela herself.
Indeed, the characters trailed off at the bottom, suggesting that either the carver ran out of space or the stone was bigger at some point and split off.
She glanced at Ben, transfixed by a folded paper heart that was at least a thousand years old.
“Do you think we should expose the truth about the mammoth?”
Ben eyed his wife. “No, if Moscow is that concerned about it, then they will respond in due course.”
Alice sighed and closed her eyes. “I guess it’s not our place to get involved.”
Ben smiled and nodded before marching off down the aisle to observe more of the fascinating exhibits in the museum.
Alice watched him as he did so, before an elephant’s loud horn took her off guard.
She turned round and saw the Woolly Mammoth slowly wander through the Museum of Natural History.
Alice tilted her head and frowned before turning round to rejoin her husband.
The Robinsonverse 