We belong together
I
HAD not yet made love to Jenny. In the three weeks we had
been together, we had held hands. Sometimes we had
kissed, but that was all. Usually I moved much faster - ask
the other girls that I'd been out with! But Jenny was special.
I felt different about her and I didn't know what to say to her.
'You're going to fail your exams, Oliver.'
We were studying in my room one Sunday afternoon.
'Oliver, you'll fail your exams if you don't do some work.'
'I am working.'
'No, you aren't. You're looking at my legs.'
'Only once every chapter.'
'That book has very short chapters.'
'Listen, you aren't as good-looking as all that!'
'I know, but you think I am, don't you?'
'Dammit, Jenny, how can I study when all the time I want
to make love to you?'
She closed her book softly and put it down. She put her
arms around me.
'Oliver, will you please make love to me?'
It all happened at once. It was all so unhurried, soft and
gentle. And 7 was gentle too. Was this the real Oliver Barrett
the Fourth?
'Hey, Oliver, did I ever tell you that I love you?' said Jenny
finally.
'No, Jen.' I kissed her neckWe belong together
'I love you very much, Oliver.'
I love Ray Stratton too. He's not very clever, or a
wonderful footballer, but he was a good friend to me. Where
did he go to study when I was in our room with Jenny?
Where did he sleep on those Saturdays when Jenny and I
spent the night together? In the old days I always told him
all about my girlfriends. But I never told him about Jenny
and me.
'My God, Barrett, are you two sleeping together or not?'
asked Ray.
'Raymond, please don't ask.'
'You spend every minute of your free time with her. It isn't
natural . . . '
'Ray, when two adults are in love . . . '
'Love? At your age? My God, I worry about you, I really do.'
'Don't worry, Raymond, old friend. We'll have that flat
in New York one day. Different girls every night . . . '
'Don't you tell me not to worry, Barrett. That girl's got
you, and I don't like it!'
That evening I went to hear Jenny play the piano with the
Music Group.
'You were wonderful,' I said afterwards.
'That shows what you know about music, Preppie.' We
walked along the river together. 'I played OK. Not wonderful.
Not "Olympic Games". Just OK. OK?'
'OK - but you should always continue your music'
'Of course I will. I'm going to study with Nadia Boulanger,
aren't I?''Who?'
'Nadia Boulanger. She's a famous music teacher in Paris.
I'm very lucky. I won a scholarship, too.'
'Jennifer - you're going to Paris?'
'I've never seen Europe. I'm really excited about it.'
I took her by the arms and pulled her towards me. 'Hey
- how long have you known this?'
Jenny looked down at her feet. 'Oliver, don't be stupid.
We can't do anything about it. After we finish university,
you'll go your way and I'll go mine. You'll go to law
school—'
'Wait a minute! What are you talking about?'
She looked into my eyes. 'Ollie, you're a rich Preppie.
Your old man owns a bank. My father's a baker in Cranston,
Rhode Island . . . and I'm nobody.'
'What does that matter? We're together now. We're happy.'
'Ollie, don't be stupid,' she repeated. 'Harvard is full of
all kinds of different people. You study together, you have
fun together. But afterwards you have to go back to where
you belong.'
'We belong together. Don't leave me, Jenny. Please.'
'What about my scholarship? What about Paris?'
'What about our marriage?'
'Who said anything about marriage?' said Jenny in
surprise.
'Me. I'm saying it now.'
'Why?'
I looked straight into her eyes.'Because,' I said.
'Oh,' said Jenny. 'That's a very good reason.' She took my
arm and we walked along the river. There was nothing more
to say, really.
The next Sunday we drove to visit my parents in Ipswich,
Massachusetts. Jenny said it was the right thing to do, and
of course there was also the fact that Oliver the Third paid
for my studies at Harvard.
'Oh my God,' Jenny said when we drove up to the house.
T didn't expect this. It's like a damn palace!'
'Please, Jen. Everything will be fine.'
'For a nice all-American girl of good family, perhaps. Not
for Jennifer Cavilleri, baker's daughter, from Cranston,
Rhode Island.'
Florence opened the door. She has worked for the Barrett
family for many years. She told us that my parents were
waiting in the library. We followed her past a long line of
pictures of famous Barretts and a glass case full of silver and
gold cups.
'They look just like real silver and gold,' said Jenny. 'They
don't give cups like those at the Cranston Sports Club!'
'They are real silver and gold,' I answered.
'My God! Are they yours?'
'No, my father's.'
'Do you have silver and gold cups too, Oliver?'
'Yes.'
'In a glass case, like these?''No. Up in my room, under the bed.'
She gave me one of her good Jenny-looks. 'We'll go and
look at them later, shall we?'
Before I could answer, we heard a voice.
'Ah, hello there.' It was Old Stonyface.
'Oh, hello, sir. This is Jennifer—'
'Hello there.' He shook her hand before I could say her
full name. There was a smile on his usually rock-like face.
'Do come in and meet Mrs Barrett... My wife Alison. This
is Jennifer—'
'Calliveri,' I said - for the first and only time, I got her
damn name wrong!
'Cavilleri,' said Jenny politely. Mother and Jenny shook
hands.
All through dinner Mother kept the polite small talk
going.
'So your people are from Cranston, Jennifer?' said my
mother.
'Mostly. My mother came from Fall River.'
'The Barretts have factories at Fall River,' said Oliver the
Third.
'Where they cheated their workers for centuries,' said
Oliver the Fourth.
'In the nineteenth century,' said Oliver the Third.
'What about the plans to put automatic machines in the
factories?' said Oliver the Fourth.
'What about coffee?' my mother said quickly. We moved
back into the library. We sat there with nothing to say to
We belong together
I
HAD not yet made love to Jenny. In the three weeks we had
been together, we had held hands. Sometimes we had
kissed, but that was all. Usually I moved much faster - ask
the other girls that I'd been out with! But Jenny was special.
I felt different about her and I didn't know what to say to her.
'You're going to fail your exams, Oliver.'
We were studying in my room one Sunday afternoon.
'Oliver, you'll fail your exams if you don't do some work.'
'I am working.'
'No, you aren't. You're looking at my legs.'
'Only once every chapter.'
'That book has very short chapters.'
'Listen, you aren't as good-looking as all that!'
'I know, but you think I am, don't you?'
'Dammit, Jenny, how can I study when all the time I want
to make love to you?'
She closed her book softly and put it down. She put her
arms around me.
'Oliver, will you please make love to me?'
It all happened at once. It was all so unhurried, soft and
gentle. And 7 was gentle too. Was this the real Oliver Barrett
the Fourth?
'Hey, Oliver, did I ever tell you that I love you?' said Jenny
finally.
'No, Jen.' I kissed her neckWe belong together
'I love you very much, Oliver.'
I love Ray Stratton too. He's not very clever, or a
wonderful footballer, but he was a good friend to me. Where
did he go to study when I was in our room with Jenny?
Where did he sleep on those Saturdays when Jenny and I
spent the night together? In the old days I always told him
all about my girlfriends. But I never told him about Jenny
and me.
'My God, Barrett, are you two sleeping together or not?'
asked Ray.
'Raymond, please don't ask.'
'You spend every minute of your free time with her. It isn't
natural . . . '
'Ray, when two adults are in love . . . '
'Love? At your age? My God, I worry about you, I really do.'
'Don't worry, Raymond, old friend. We'll have that flat
in New York one day. Different girls every night . . . '
'Don't you tell me not to worry, Barrett. That girl's got
you, and I don't like it!'
That evening I went to hear Jenny play the piano with the
Music Group.
'You were wonderful,' I said afterwards.
'That shows what you know about music, Preppie.' We
walked along the river together. 'I played OK. Not wonderful.
Not "Olympic Games". Just OK. OK?'
'OK - but you should always continue your music'
'Of course I will. I'm going to study with Nadia Boulanger,
aren't I?''Who?'
'Nadia Boulanger. She's a famous music teacher in Paris.
I'm very lucky. I won a scholarship, too.'
'Jennifer - you're going to Paris?'
'I've never seen Europe. I'm really excited about it.'
I took her by the arms and pulled her towards me. 'Hey
- how long have you known this?'
Jenny looked down at her feet. 'Oliver, don't be stupid.
We can't do anything about it. After we finish university,
you'll go your way and I'll go mine. You'll go to law
school—'
'Wait a minute! What are you talking about?'
She looked into my eyes. 'Ollie, you're a rich Preppie.
Your old man owns a bank. My father's a baker in Cranston,
Rhode Island . . . and I'm nobody.'
'What does that matter? We're together now. We're happy.'
'Ollie, don't be stupid,' she repeated. 'Harvard is full of
all kinds of different people. You study together, you have
fun together. But afterwards you have to go back to where
you belong.'
'We belong together. Don't leave me, Jenny. Please.'
'What about my scholarship? What about Paris?'
'What about our marriage?'
'Who said anything about marriage?' said Jenny in
surprise.
'Me. I'm saying it now.'
'Why?'
I looked straight into her eyes.'Because,' I said.
'Oh,' said Jenny. 'That's a very good reason.' She took my
arm and we walked along the river. There was nothing more
to say, really.
The next Sunday we drove to visit my parents in Ipswich,
Massachusetts. Jenny said it was the right thing to do, and
of course there was also the fact that Oliver the Third paid
for my studies at Harvard.
'Oh my God,' Jenny said when we drove up to the house.
T didn't expect this. It's like a damn palace!'
'Please, Jen. Everything will be fine.'
'For a nice all-American girl of good family, perhaps. Not
for Jennifer Cavilleri, baker's daughter, from Cranston,
Rhode Island.'
Florence opened the door. She has worked for the Barrett
family for many years. She told us that my parents were
waiting in the library. We followed her past a long line of
pictures of famous Barretts and a glass case full of silver and
gold cups.
'They look just like real silver and gold,' said Jenny. 'They
don't give cups like those at the Cranston Sports Club!'
'They are real silver and gold,' I answered.
'My God! Are they yours?'
'No, my father's.'
'Do you have silver and gold cups too, Oliver?'
'Yes.'
'In a glass case, like these?''No. Up in my room, under the bed.'
She gave me one of her good Jenny-looks. 'We'll go and
look at them later, shall we?'
Before I could answer, we heard a voice.
'Ah, hello there.' It was Old Stonyface.
'Oh, hello, sir. This is Jennifer—'
'Hello there.' He shook her hand before I could say her
full name. There was a smile on his usually rock-like face.
'Do come in and meet Mrs Barrett... My wife Alison. This
is Jennifer—'
'Calliveri,' I said - for the first and only time, I got her
damn name wrong!
'Cavilleri,' said Jenny politely. Mother and Jenny shook
hands.
All through dinner Mother kept the polite small talk
going.
'So your people are from Cranston, Jennifer?' said my
mother.
'Mostly. My mother came from Fall River.'
'The Barretts have factories at Fall River,' said Oliver the
Third.
'Where they cheated their workers for centuries,' said
Oliver the Fourth.
'In the nineteenth century,' said Oliver the Third.
'What about the plans to put automatic machines in the
factories?' said Oliver the Fourth.
'What about coffee?' my mother said quickly. We moved
back into the library. We sat there with nothing to say to
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