Thursday November 7, 1974

Day off. Up at about 10 and do nothing until about 11. Dad goes to Morrison's on a wild goose chase for something called sugar, a crystal-like substance believed to have been extinct for 200m years. Whether he'll get any or not is a debatable point, and I don't hang around to find out. Go into work arriving at 10 after 12. Kathy passes on a message from Sarah who is spending her lunch hour at Whitelocks. I join them at about 20 past. Carol sits brooding over a gin and tonic. She says Michael asked her for a divorce the other day because he wants to enjoy himself before he grows too old. I consider this to be a bloody liberty. Michael Johnson may well be only 22 but he's married now and it's his own silly fault if he's now got cold feet. I despise weakness and half-heartedness where marriage is concerned. I don't give a damn about how people treat one another when they aren't united in Holy wedlock, but when the plunge is taken it really should be forever, commanding love and respect on both sides. The character of Michael Johsnon is not to be desired. Home at nearly 3 to see 'The Forsyte Saga' on TV. Have fish and chips followed by crumpets for lunch.

Hear on the 6 o'clock news that dear old Sir Alec Douglas-Home is now ennobled with a peerage once again. Will he be Lord Home or Lord Douglas-Home, I don't know. It's only a feeble life peerage of course, not the real thing.

Haven't heard from Lynne all week and am not going to bother ringing her either. She's going off on Friday_____. See Monty Python which gives us all cronic hysteria as usual, then see the corny Evening Standard Film Awards where Glenda Jackson is to be seen receiving lots of medals, trophies and acclaim, from an audience consisting of 300 drunken film extras in evening dress.

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