13 March. Oswestry. My photos of Lorenzo lying in the punt came and I am so pleased with them – they are awfully good and like him too. I felt quite happy in the evening – I wish I could be certain that it would last. What a perilous thing happiness is!
23 March. A lovely long letter from Jockie, which although it contained rather depressing news, made me feel happy and excited. It seems that Lorenzo is really in love with Alison West-Watson, because she has not fallen into his arms straight away as he expected she would. Lorenzo wrote a peevish postscript to the letter which makes me even more determined not to write to him. He had cut his finger and drops of his blood were decorating the letter – there was also a page with HENRY written on it in large bloody letters. Jockie was sympathetic and the letter was a witty and a charming one. I am beginning to feel the weest bit hostile towards Henry, and to think that the glamour of being his doormat is wearing off. I don’t look at his photograph, and I must not let him spoil my Schools.
17 April. Oxford [in lodgings in Ship Street during the vacation]. A busy and pleasant day. Work at Hamlet and the Ghost in the morning. Pedley and I went to the Super and had an excellent programme for our 1/ 3d. Love, Honour and Ok Baby! was gloriously funny. ‘What about the man who wears the red pyjamas?’ ‘Yes but he doesn’t wear them in the afternoon!’ By Candlelight was the big flick and very entertaining too. Paul Lukas and Elissa Landi. It made me determined to marry a rich man.
A long letter from Friedbert, all in German – which I’ve not yet deciphered, and a lovely snap of him. Also a book containing a speech of Hitler’s (in English). I resolutely worked till nearly 1.30! I am writing this at that hour and have almost earned a rest – but I’m longing to decipher my letter.
18 April. At about 1 o’clock I had my first glimpse of Lorenzo/ Henry for nearly six weeks. He walked along Ship Street in his black macintosh. I didn’t quite know how I felt – rather excited I suppose. At about 6.30 he passed by and invited himself in. He asked me to supper that evening. I went at about eight o’clock. Jockie came to the door in a ravishing pastel-coloured Paisley dressing gown – looking very sweet. We had supper – very nice it was too – and I felt happy and excited. Henry, by the way, had insisted on reading some of Friedbert’s letter and had translated a little of it – very satisfactorily! We had much amusing conversation. Barnicot came and he and J. tried to play Jockie’s flute. Henry was being quite nice, then he pulled me over to the divan and made me lie down with him. The others went out. He said he had a headache and was very sweet and gentle with me. I had to stop myself from asking whether I didn’t still love him as much as ever. There is no doubt that I do love him in some sort of way, but I can’t quite make out how, because I certainly don’t feel the same as I did. Then Jock and Barnicot came back and I was furious because Henry wouldn’t let me go. We had a struggle on the floor – I was simply furious and burst into a passionate fit of crying. They were all rather embarrassed – even Jockie – and left me for a while. Then Henry came back and was very solicitous. I had begun to feel tired by this time and was very subdued when my crying had finished. We had some tea and they were all very nice to me. Finally Barnicot drove me home in YR, very tired and feeling that life was too much of a good thing.
19 April. Just before lunch Henry called and tried to persuade me to go to tea. But I resolutely refused. After lunch he came in again and stayed all afternoon and moreover was quite nice most of the time. Is he trying to win me back or something? Just before going he said ‘Oh you’re common property’. He tried to be nice to me when he saw he’d hurt me. In the evening I did some more deciphering of Friedbert’s letter and found (or thought I found) in it much that pleased me.
27 April. After dinner I changed out of my chiffon into my scarlet satin blouse and black skirt. I had a delightful evening at 86B Banbury Road. Jockie was very amusing and looked so pretty – but he has heaps of socks to darn! Henry was rather rude to me on the whole. Barnicot came after a while and he and Henry played chess while I darned socks and talked to Jockie. I only managed to do about 4 pairs – but I am going to do some more tomorrow evening. Henry was very anxious for me to go to tea and said he would teach me about Chaucer and Langbaine – but I am not going. He actually walked with me to the bus stop and tried to persuade me. When I got back to College I looked at my photo of Friedbert and said aloud ‘Oh my darling – it’s you I love’. I wonder.
28 April When I went to 86 this evening I had 10 minutes alone with Henry to begin with. He and Jock quarrelled rather a lot – and I left in a furious temper with Henry. Of course Henry and I fought.
2 May. At Bodley again. Henry was wearing a pure white shirt and one of those plaited Austrian ties – orange and brown – which matched his eyes. He looked as if he wasn’t going to smile at me, but gave me a sweet one when he saw I did. Very depressed about work in the evening – a disquieting feeling that I may be in love with Henry still. I wish Friedbert would write, that would cheer me. Then there’s my wretched future career too.
3 May. Alison was in Bodley this morning – also Henry. If Friedbert doesn’t write soon I shall find myself as deeply in love with Henry as ever I was before. In the meantime Jockie smiles at me adorably and looks kind.
4 May. In the morning I had a most touching meeting with Henry on the steps of the Radcliffe Camera. I always think that Providence must arrange little incidents like that. He looked charming and was wearing a black pullover. He tried hard to persuade me to come to tea – but I would not, although I felt very tempted. He swore that he would not even touch me – but how can I believe him after all the other times he’s sworn and promised? When I met him I was moved instinctively to put my hand out towards him. Deep down in my heart I know I love him, although I hardly dare admit it to myself. As it is – because I didn’t go to tea – I am thinking of the happy time we might have had – and am loving him far more than I probably should do if I had actually gone. It’s rather horrid not being able to trust someone you love – or anyway think you love.
9 May. In the morning I worked hard in Bodley. Honor Tracy came in and I showed her where to find some books. She asked me to have tea with her at the Cadena tomorrow. Then Henry wrote in German on some of my Milton notes ‘ Kommst Du – Ja?’ and a few other things. I went and he was extremely nice – but Jockie came in and caught us reading ‘Samson Agonistes’ in bed with nothing on. Really rather funny. I stayed to supper. Jockie forgave me as I was penitent and was very sweet.
10 May. Honor Tracy was awfully nice. She is on my side and thinks Henry has treated me badly. She advised me not to get involved in an affair with him.
15 May. Honor was in Bodley after tea, also Alison. I want to see Henry again or I may think him nicer than he is. I felt myself inclined to do that this afternoon. I want so terribly to go to Germany again and I’m 12/10d overdrawn at the bank.
20 May. Church at 8 and at 11.30. All my worst thoughts seem to be brought up to the surface on such occasions – like a poultice drawing the poison out of a boil perhaps –!
21 May. Henry and I walked round by Brasenose and the Camera. And he squashed me for liking All Souls better than the Radcliffe.
24 May. Met Henry on the steps of Bodley. He said I looked quite mad – perhaps I did. He added because of the navy spotted hankie round my neck but actually I was concave inside and was rather peeved that he didn’t ask me out to coffee.
If only God would arrange that Friedbert would write to me things mightn’t be so bad. But as it is I can only conclude that F. meant not a word he said or wrote (possible) or that I’ve offended him (vaguely possible). Or perhaps I didn’t translate his letter rightly or – lots of other things! Anyway, I have very little faith in mankind now – although Hope does spring eternal in the human breast, especially in Sandra’s!
26 May. No work all day – a passionate desire to go to Germany. I got quite brown (my face at least) in the afternoon on the river. Heard a delightful remark made by a man finding the end of t
he pole muddy and getting his hands dirty: ‘I’m covered with the most utter dung’.
28 May. Had a very affectionate letter from Hanns Woischnick in the morning – written in good English with many darlings in it. Apparently Friedbert has told him that I am going there in June – if so I wish F. would write! I did not realise that Hanns was at all fond of me. He says he will never forget me, but seems to think I am irretrievably Friedbert’s. I suppose the truth is that I belong to a cruel sweet Englishman called Henry Stanley Harvey, but at the age of not quite 21, it is not possible to be certain. Henry does not write, nor do I see him. The Germans at least appreciate me if the English don’t.
1 June. The last day of being sweet-and-twenty. And very sad it made me to think so. In fact at about lunch time I could have been in tears about it. In the afternoon I went with Harry to the Bath and West Show – it was lovely, though very hot. The fine bulls and pigs took my mind off Schools for a while. Among those present (also looking at the pigs) were Mr Barnicot and Count Roberto Weiss.
Supper with Jock and Lorenzo was lovely – they said I looked blonde and Aryan, like something on the cover of Die Woche! We drank sherry and Liebfraumilch and I felt a little dazed and amorous.
2 June. My 21st birthday – and in many ways not a happy day. Was excited in the morning waiting for Links and Hilary to come. We had a good meal at the Cadena and tea in my rooms – it was very hot. They went quite soon afterwards and down the Banbury Road too. They took me with them some of the way. And I called on Henry on spec, as I was rather depressed by then. He was in, as it happened, and just going to have his tea. Then he had a bath while I read Spence’s Anecdotes to him. The bath put him in rather a bad temper though. I retired to the other room and was sitting on the floor reading Goethe when Jockie came in and he was very pleased to see me. He was frightfully funny imitating Bodley’s Librarian with whom he’d been to tea. I had supper with them and slipped away before 10.30. Jockie read Jane Austen to me and Barnicot played chess with Henry. When I got back I felt miserable and conscience stricken – so that I cried much in bed. Silly Sandra, but I suppose it was a relief.
4 June. I did 7 hours revision today – Wordsworth and Beowulf. It was rather cheerless. After dinner, at about 9.15, I got into a panic about Gawain and longed for congenial company. So I rushed to 86 Banbury Rd. Henry came to the door but seemed bad tempered and not pleased to see me. But Jockie was sweet – also Barnicot in his silent way – and together they managed to calm me. Henry drove me home, and was surprisingly sweet. He told me to try and get to bed early and said I was to come and see them whenever I liked. I loved him for being a little kind – it made such a difference.
6 June. A nasty day – it was the last before Schools and the weather was uncertain. I hurried to Bodley to do something on Beast Fables. Jockie, in his brown suit, came in and reminded me that this was probably my last day in Bodley. Alison was also in. Henry came through – his hair all fluffy and washed – he spoke to Alison but not to me. I was a fool, but it hurt me terribly. I cried on the stairs coming out. In the evening I dined with Harry at the Town and Gown and was very hilarious and excited about Schools,
Schools. I shall have to write this up all together, as much as I can remember. I enjoyed the experience of Schools and the papers were quite nice, if rather dull at times. I always did the morning ones best. Henry, divinely beautiful in B.A. gown, white fur etc., was taking B. Litt. papers – but I saw very little of him.
8 June. That evening I went to the flat and found Jockie there. We talked till 10.30 and he was very sweet as always. Henry had gone to The Invisible Man.
Every afternoon I had tea with Harry and sometimes we would wander about until 6, and then have some sherry in the Bijou.
At nights I used to stay up late, working and talking, and I always worked after breakfast and in the lunch hour.
It was a good time, especially as I got my second.
17 June. A wonderful day.
Henry suggested that we should all go and have dinner at Burford. We set off in YR. Henry drove and Anton [Fendrich] and I sat in the back. The noise it made was so terrific that we couldn’t have much conversation. The Lamb was a charming place and we had a very good dinner, at which Anton said some very funny things and Henry gave me a character, saying that I was kind-hearted and didn’t demand much. We wanted to go to some place where we could walk about, so we decided to go to Bibury. The village was lovely and we spent much time wandering there. It is completely unspoilt with some lovely cottages and cats. Anton behaved in a delightfully lighthearted Friedbertian manner – turning cartwheels on the road, and walking along the wall by the river. It got dusk – later and later, and we were nearly 30 miles out of Oxford. But I didn’t care and was blissfully happy. Henry was so kind and they were all such good company. Coming back I sat behind mit Anton. We lost our way rather at first. Anton was very sweet to me. He wrapped me up in a rug and I half went to sleep in his arms. It was all comfortable and lovely, and because Anton was a German I didn’t feel as if I were being unfaithful to my real love. Somehow I could never take a German very seriously, but they are glorious to flirt with.
We were at Carfax at 11.55 and at St Hilda’s just before 12 and it was impossible to get in legitimately without making more fuss than I wanted to. So my last evening at Oxford, I had to climb in – but not straight away. We went to Magdalen Bridge and got a punt. The river looked so tempting and YR was broken. We did not go straight to St Hilda’s but turned round and went right past Addison’s Walk and round the corner where we moored. It was all lovely – the river dark and still with a few stars. Then we went back and to the St Hilda’s landing stage. Anton and H. climbed ashore with me – and helped me over the wall and barbed wire. They waited while I went to see whether there was any possible way of getting into the building. There didn’t seem to be, so I went back and Henry came into the garden with me to help me – it was romantic to be walking in St Hilda’s garden with him at almost 2 in the morning. We went round to try and wake Sharp – and as luck would have it – I noticed Celia Evans’ window was open and the gates undrawn. Henry lifted me on to the sill – held my hand and said goodnight. I managed not to wake Celia, although I made a frightful noise. I wasn’t in bed till dawn was breaking and the birds were starting to sing.
18 June. I went along to the flat with a big bunch of red and yellow roses for Henry. I had to knock a long time before anyone would come – they were both asleep. The char. arrived – I felt it was rather strange to be there at 10. Henry was in a lovely temper and very pleased with the roses. After breakfast I lay on the blue divan and Henry put on a Brandenburg Concerto and some Sibelius. Despite the fact that Anton would sing ‘Stormy Weather’ I didn’t feel really unhappy. Henry came up behind me and kissed my mouth very gently, which was my real farewell to him and the sweetest thing that could be imagined.
16 July. Went to Oxford from Oswestry on the 9 train. Coming up Beaumont Street I saw Henry. He seemed genuinely glad to see me. The flat is now beautifully furnished and they have a heavenly sofa in tweedy stuff, very long and comfy. In spite of the fact that Henry was talking much of a sweet Finnish girl he’d met called Pääviki we proceeded as usual. He said we’d probably go on meeting each other like this many times in the future and I think so too. We had a frugal supper after which Mr Barnicot came. Then it was so thrilling, Henry got a letter saying he’d got the job he’d tried for in the University of Helsingfors – Finland. He was so excited he thought he’d be sick – so he sat in a chair and I calmed him down and stroked his lovely head. Then we rushed out and bought a bottle of whisky – and we celebrated. I drank to my sweet Harvey in the first whisky I’d ever tasted. We danced and sang, played the piano and made a glorious noise – Sibelius on the gramophone too, and we spoke German nearly the whole evening. I made up Henry’s mouth with lipstick and he made up Barnicot and me like clowns. Finally they took me home at about 12, and I walked arm-in-arm with them both. Henry gave me a pair
of slippers – red leather and brightly coloured wool.
17 July. Very hot. I was going to Bodley at about 12 but was waylaid by Barnicot and went and drank lemonade with him. We talked much – the poor dear always seems to want to talk about Honor.
18 July. My Viva was short and sweet, purely formal and my class obviously decided – but what? I had tea with Henry and he took me to the station. He said I was part of his background, like Jock and Barnicot, which pleased me. It is what I’ve always wanted – I love him too, but don’t want him for my very own yet awhile.
I got a 2nd. With comparative ease too.
1 September. Sometime in July I began writing a story about Hilary and me as spinsters of fiftyish. Henry, Jock and all of us appeared in it. I sent it to them and they liked it very much. So I am going on with it and one day it may become a book. It is interesting in more ways than one. It is of course ‘for Henry’, and in it I seem able to say what I cannot in the ordinary course of events. Barbara keeps looking back to her youth, and so I have an excuse for revealing some of my present feelings about Henry. No change has been wrought in them, as far as I can see. He still remains the only person. This time not even a visit to Germany made any difference, but perhaps that was merely chance. Anyway I am content about that.