by Barbara Pym
2 June. My 19th birthday. I worked – or rather tried to – in the Bod. till 12, when Rupert came for me. He was wearing his purple subfusc coat. We went out to Elliston’s and he bought me a heavenly scarf. Royal blue and orange. We went into St Hilda’s, sat on a seat, and because of the ever-present and watchful eyes, behaved very well. Dinner at Stewart’s with Miles and Rupert. Then Frankenstein at the Super – Miles laughed so I couldn’t be terrified. I loved stealing surreptitious glances at Rupert’s profile – and was very thrilled by him.
5 June. A fine morning – I went with Rupert up to Boars Hill – we went into a wood and sheltered from the showers under trees. He was very Theocritean and loving. I got a wee bit sick of it – but tried to please him as I was determined to treat him as kindly as possible as he’d Schools on the 9th.
7 June. In the evening we had a last do before Schools – Miles came too and it was great fun. Dinner at Stewart’s plus liqueurs, then The Case of the Frightened Lady at the Super. I felt sad but happy saying goodbye to Rupert. Sad because I thought I wasn’t going to see him for ages – so I thought – happy because I liked him so much.
13 June. I had a note from Rupert and Miles asking me to go to the flicks. I dashed to Carfax at 7.30 and we went to Goodnight Vienna at the Queener. It was lovely, and somehow appropriate. We sat at the back in the corner and I had two arms around me for the first time in my history. The flick was over at 10, so we stopped at the coffee stall by Cowley Place on our way back. We drank to each other in chocolate Horlicks.
15 June. In the afternoon went on the river with Rupert and Miles. We had tea at the Cherwell tea gardens. Much semi-nakedness to be seen on the river. We landed at a bank and Rupert dropped his watch in the water. He had to undress and fish for it – but didn’t get it.
16 June. Had my report in the morning, and a letter from R. on Air Squadron paper. The former amused me much – keen, etc. – I seem to give rather a good impression of myself! In the afternoon it was Rupert and Miles’Viva. In the evening I met R. at the corner of the Turl and he told me the joyous news that they’d both got Firsts, and gave me a letter which he was bringing, written in all different coloured inks and pencils. I was overjoyed!
19 June. In the morning Sharp and I went to the University sermon – Dr Alington. It was somewhat dull I thought and full of blaa and waffle. We prayed for Trinity a good deal – as he came from there. Went on the river in the afternoon. I found it thoroughly depressing, as it was crowded with townspeople, all of whom seemed to have gramophone records of ‘Ain’t it grand to be blooming well dead’.
20 June. Rupert and I drank chocolate at the Queener – and went on to 47. Oh blessed George Steer and his lovely leopard skins – I hope he gets a First! This kind of a Private Lives love scene was far better in reality than in anticipation. A somewhat hurried meal at Elliston’s – for at 2.15 we were taking George Steer and Geoffrey Grimwood to Ramsden in R.’s car. Both men are very typical of the House – particularly G.G. – in voice and dress. R. and I were very staid and sober. After we’d dropped them we drove on all over the place – Great Tew – Charlbury, where we had tea at a pub. Then we went back into Oxford plus the two Christ Church men and met Miles at 47. After drinking sherry we went to Stewart’s and the Super. I just got in for 10 o’clock.
21 June. Rupert came for me and we wandered about talking in broken English. We went into Trinity and Rupert telephoned Prof. Griffith. He kissed me in the telephone box, having heard that a man was progged for a similar offence!
22 June. We dined at Stewart’s (upstairs) and I felt in a v. sentimental, sad mood – mainly because the radio (or whatever it is) played ‘Auf Wiedersehen’. Then we went to 47 – finished up George Steer’s port. We all behaved rather appallingly and I was escorted back to St Hilda’s by 10. I felt very lonely as all my friends had gone down – and I was sleeping in my new room – which seemed very large and infested with moths!
23 June. Rupert and I went to buy some things for lunch – as we intended to take it with us on the river. We then took Miles up to Boars Hill as he had to see Prof. Griffith. Rupert and I went to a pub to get some gin and then waited for Miles in the car. There it was that Rupert said to me Marvell’s ‘To his Coy Mistress’ and ‘Definition of Love’. And I had never heard them before. The more one talks with him the more one realises that he really is brilliant – in all sorts of ways. Then on to the river, from the Cherwell Arms, where we drove in the car. Getting into the punt I half fell in – and Miles got his trousers entirely wet trying to rescue me. We had an amusing time getting dry. I lay on my tummy in the middle of the punt – Rupert punted and Miles sat at the other end with his trousers on the end of a paddle. I rushed back to St Hilda’s and changed, then we met at 131 Iffley Road and decided to dine out of Oxford. We went to the Spreadeagle at Thame – Lovely! Before dinner we wandered about in the charming garden – the flowers seem to grow at random but it is very well planned. Then we ate a marvellous dinner – at which everything ordinary (i.e. fish) tasted extraordinarily good. We finished with yellow Chartreuse – Rupert laughed at me because it made me cough.
24 June. Rupert and Miles came and we went off for lunch. In Stewart’s they played ‘Wien du Stadt meiner Träume’ – I heard it for the first time there. At the station I held Miles’ and Rupert’s hands tightly and gazed into their blue and brown eyes respectively. Then we said goodbye and I settled down to a sober journey home. A marvellous ending to a marvellous term.
July. The Long Vacation. Oswestry. At first I was bored but gradually settled down – letters from Rupert and Miles helped things considerably. On 8 July I went to Huyton for the weekend – it was fun seeing people again – but tiring having to look and be somewhat sophisticated and there was rather a lot of chapel. On 19 July Rupert sent me The Weekend Book most charmingly inscribed – and a long letter – one of the nicest I’ve ever had from him. He has bought an aeroplane.
15 September. On this day Rupert came. I went to meet him at 3.23, wearing a summer frock and a yellow jersey (it was a hot day) – feeling very excited. He arrived in his white shorts and not as disreputable as he said he’d be. I was pleased to find him about 20 times nicer looking than his photo.
16 September. We walked up to Llynclys Hill, and when up by Jacob’s Ladder found a convenient resting place and had our lunch there. Rupert had some beer (which I tasted) and I had Dry Ginger. We walked up again to the hill and made ourselves comfortable in the sun. We lay half asleep with our faces close to each other for a long time. We laughed out of sheer happiness. Had supper alone, which was lovely, we were both feeling excited and happy. Went to the flicks and saw Marie Dressier in Emma.
17 September. Went out to Pant on the 2 bus and up on to the hill. Seeing me run down a hill Rupert gave me the name Atalanta. I think we managed to behave fairly well thro’ supper, but I was still feeling ridiculous, and drank some beer out of a cup.
21 September. We talked a lot – or rather Rupert did and I listened – about his father and Trinity and lots of things. Before we went out he had made the suggestion that we should go to bed – we had much fun and a fight over that. It was a very cold evening and I felt very tired, but we went down Weston Lane and looked at the stars. I said that the happiness one got out of love was worth any unhappiness it might (and generally does) bring. I can’t remember what Rupert said but he wasn’t so sure about it not having had the experience I suppose.
22 September. I helped Rupert to pack – he went in a hat and looked about 17! I would have loved to go to the Lakes with him and Miles. It was seriously rather awful parting from him, we’d had such a heavenly week together. I’d never imagined it would be so good. I actually wept a bit!
Michaelmas Term
9 October. Met Rupert in New College Lane at 12, and went back with him to his digs. Then we met Miles in Stewart’s and had lunch. A happy reunion – it was marvellous.
13 October. Went to the Bod. On the way back met Rupert in dark suit and
white tie – he persuaded me to have lunch at the Randolph with his mother and brother Edmund. I was, of course, terrified, but my fur coat gave me some confidence! Mrs G. is very nice and talkative, not like Rupert in any way. Edmund is vaguely like him – uglier – but he has ‘personal magnetism’. We trailed into the Sheldonian where I explained various things such as the Proctor’s Walk. Miles was also having his degree – he and Rupert were the handsomest men there, as far as I could see. Then, when the ceremony was over, and we had admired their white fur, we adjourned to Fullers for tea. Edmund was funny and kept putting things into my hand (sugar, pennies) when I stretched it out in my characteristic way.
15 October. Today I must always remember I suppose. I went to tea with Rupert (and ate a pretty colossal one) – and he with all his charm, eloquence and masculine wiles, persuaded.… [Here several pages have been torn out.]
23 October. I went to see Rupert in the morning and stayed to lunch. We had a delightfully domesticated time over the fire and nearly went to sleep – then we had to go just before tea, as he was having it with Professor Myres. I went and had tea with my female friends, and went to St Mary’s in the evening.
3 November. Rupert called for me and we went for a long and energetic walk it being such a fine afternoon. I was hatless and Atalantesque in blue.
5 November. Guy Fawkes day. In the evening we ventured out – first we went along to Norham Gardens to call for some Bradfordians. (I was with Mary Sharp and Dorothy Pedley.) We took a bus and it nosed its way thro’ the Corn – which was very crowded. We took many buses and then plucked up courage to walk down the Broad where it met the Corn. We saw a lot of drunks though – one being carried in the Broad – shouting ‘Blast you, you bloody fools – you’re busting my braces!’ – also (when we had ventured into the Corn by Woolworth’s) one who called me Charlotte – two propping themselves up in the middle of the road. Nothing thrilling happened – people rushed about in crowds – everyone followed but it always seemed to be a false alarm. Very few fireworks were thrown. We were back by 11.10.
1933
17 January. Nichol Smith’s lecture on Swift and Pope at Schools. Lorenzo was there. Found a letter from Rupert awaiting me – he called in the afternoon, and I found myself remarkably glad to see him. After tea we went out and Rupert bought a B. A. gown. Sharp, Pedley and self went out with the intention of seeing Grand Hotel, but we found the queue so long that we abandoned our efforts. We had a coffee at Stewart’s, and then went to a show at the New Theatre – Variety – but Jack Payne too! The variety was bearable – all the jokes extremely vulgar – they were applauded uproariously by the largely undergraduate audience! Jack Payne and band were heavenly – they played mostly things one knew, and did a lot of comedy stuff. I liked the ‘rendering’ of ‘We Just Couldn’t Say Goodbye’ – also ‘Round the Bend of the Road’ and of course ‘Love is the Sweetest Thing’!
18 January. A full day of lectures. Percy Simpson at 12 was singularly amusing – he read some priceless letters of the 17th Century describing a masque where everyone was tight. Lorenzo was there. I’m convinced that he hates me. Our gazes meet, and he half smiles – but it is a cynical sort of smile. His affectation intrigues me.
25 January. This diary seems to be going to turn into the Saga of Lorenzo. In P. Simpson he sat next but one to me – so that I was able to observe him. He has beautiful hands – rather too beautiful but eminently the right thing for him. He has twinkling (but not pleasantly twinkling) hazel-brown eyes, like a duck’s I think. And what a mouth! He is able to curl it in the most fascinatingly repulsive sneering smile. He walks swiftly in his effortless yet affected manner. His writing is very small and mingy – the lines sloping upwards to the left (he uses plain paper).
26 January. I didn’t see Lorenzo at all until the evening in the Bod. at about 4.50. I sat nearly opposite him – not on the same row. He doesn’t like being observed but often looks at you in his malicious way. (I hope I may be wrong – but I’m not optimistic about it). He had with him his nice herring-boney grey tweed overcoat – also the pathetic green scarf and little brown leather gloves – lined with lambs-wool. He had lots of books out spread over the desk next to him as well as his own. He had a book I wanted, I believe, but my courage failed when it came to asking him – in fact I couldn’t really consider it at all. He was writing a lot, sprawling over his desk and tilting his chair in his peculiar manner, evidently he had a tutorial – he seemed in a hurry because he actually ran. He seemed to have a cold (his nose was a little red) – and coughed several times – also a vaguely hectic flush – or was it my over-solicitous imagination? At about 7 coming past Magdalen I saw him in the lodge – looking lovely and rather flushed. Oh dear!
29 January. During this week Lorenzo – whose real name is Henry Stanley Harvey – has been much in my thoughts – in spite of being very conscious of each other, nothing seems to happen!
12 February. Bod. in the afternoon, but I did no work. Lorenzo was there – all hectic finishing an essay. We went back to the Bod. at 6. Lorenzo was still there – even more dishevelled than he had been 2 hours previously. He rushed out to his tutorial, wearing a hat (brown) and looking very sweet. We progress not at all.
11 February. Lorenzo was at the Christ Church play. So was I. He was with Robert Liddell – what a long neck Lorenzo has. Black flannel bags and a curious striped coat.
12 February. A very nice intimate tea party with Mr H. H. Harker, St John’s. He gives me so much enjoyment.
13 February. I love Lorenzo – I mean love my peculiar way. And I had thought I was getting over it. I don’t think he cares a damn about me – but sometimes vague and marvellous doubts arise – I went to the Dictionary and looked up a word – (an entirely fatuous word) becoz he was there – i.e. ‘Pentatremite – an echinoderm of the genus Pentatremites belonging to the extinct class Blastoidea, allied to the Crinoids’ – Is that a definition of me – Lorenzo – or both of us?
1 March. Yesterday a delightful lunch party at Trinity. Barbara Flower and Cordelia Wintour, Rupert, Frederic Wells and Hal Summers. Wells is sweet, but too intellectual – the girls were too intellectual and didn’t have the compensation of being of the opposite sex.
Vacation. March-April. Oswestry. The weather has been perfect – and this is my favourite season of year. It has been very right for all this Lorenzo business. Chestnut trees just coming out – pale, almost-too-good-to-be-true green – blue skies, daffodils and best of all cherry trees in half and full flowers. My attitude to Nature is 18th century I know. But oh marvellous days!
Trinity Term
21 April. Good to be back again! Bought a lovely fat book at Blackwell’s to write my novel in (plain paper). In the evening – after dinner Rosemary and I went along to Laurence Whistler’s rooms – but he wasn’t in. I amused myself by looking at his books – and read some poems by James Bramwell – bad!
27 April. I saw my darling Lorenzo today. Just a fleeting glimpse of his profile – but so divine. His hair is more auburn, and his skin lovely, pale brown with a faint flush.
29 April Oh ever to be remembered day. Lorenzo spoke to me! I saw him in the Bod. and felt desperately thrilled about him so that I trembled and shivered and went sick. As I went out Lorenzo caught me up – and said – ‘Well, and has Sandra finished her epic poem?’ – or words to that effect. He talks curiously but very waffily – is very affected. Something wrong with his mouth I think – he can’t help snurging. I was almost completely tongue-tied. I said ‘Er – No’. He asked me if I was still keeping up the dual personality idea – he had caught me out. ‘But you don’t know who I am’ I said. ‘Of course I do’ replied Lorenzo. ‘Everybody does’. Oh Misery or the reverse! Then I said, ‘By the way I hope you don’t mind my calling you Lorenzo – it suits you you know’. ‘Oh does it – how awfully flattering!’ He snurged and went on up the Iffley Rd while I walked trembling and weak at the knees into Cowley Place.
30 April I was very happy thinking
about Lorenzo and the funny way he talked and everything. I had that kind of gnawing at the vitals sick feeling if that describes it at all – that is so marvellous. In the afternoon I went out to tea with Rosemary and Laurence at 105 The High. Laurence is charming. We ate a lot and listened to Stravinsky’s Sacre du Printemps. I couldn’t think of anything intelligent to say about it. I was dressed all in grey with a blue and white check blouse. Anthony Baines had lots of peculiar cigarettes – French Woodbines and Spanish ones that you have to roll yourself. He has a grandfather living in Oxford who is a bit potty – and spits on the floor. We left at about 6. I couldn’t eat any supper – but drank a glass of water – amazing what love will do!
10 May. After tea I went to the Bod. and it was sultry sort of weather – one expected it to thunder at almost any moment. I wasn’t looking awfully beautiful. I was wearing a brown check skirt, yellow short sleeved jersey – yellow suede coat – brown hat and Viyella scarf – flesh coloured fishnet stockings, brown and white ghillie shoes (blue celanese trollies – pink suspender belt – pink kestos – white vest) – brown gloves – umbrella. I sat down opposite where Lorenzo usually sits. In a minute or two he came along and sat in his usual place. We took no notice of each other – but of course I couldn’t resist staring. At 10 to 7 they rang the bell and we stayed a bit. I walked out before Lorenzo. We got to the bottom of the stairs – just by the door I felt someone catch me up – I looked up – Lorenzo stood by my side – saying would I like a lift anywhere? I accepted and walked with him to his car YR 4628. I commented on the fact that I’d seen him in another car – he said ‘I sometimes hire a car’. Said he shared YR with ‘The man with the presumably false moustache’, i.e. John Barnicot. He said he liked me and my sense of humour and thought me quite mad. We went to the Trout and got a room to ourselves, where there was a pingpong table. We played till it was time to eat – he generally beat me. We ate mixed grill and drank beer – he’s fussy so I had to pick out all the least greasy of the fried potatoes for him. Over supper we talked of general things – but everything he said seemed so marvellously significant. I think I must have told him quite a lot about how I felt for him. Oh cruel Lorenzo. We finished eating – I can see the romantic surroundings – now dusk – falling water – the wistaria on the Trout. I picked some. Lorenzo said ‘It will wither’. It did too – although I put it in water – my char threw it away. I put on Barnicot’s mac. Driving back we talked strictly practical things – 18th century literature – the Wartons – Young’s conjectures on original compositions – ‘Think you this too bold?’ … We got back to Oxford. I was still almost in a daze. Outside St Hilda’s I kissed his bitten cheek.
