5th after Trinity. Sunny, but windy day. Get up at 10.30 and have breakfast. Mum and Dad go off to Nottingham for the day leaving us to our own devices.
Lynn goes to Dave's for the day to do the cooking whilst his Mum and Dad are away for the weekend - I'll leave the rest to your imagination (only joking), and John goes off to 'George's' for the same thing. I feel almost starved all day, and after sitting through a boring Bette Davis film I leap into a cheese sandwich and devour a nice hot bath.
An hour in the bath re-vitalises me for the evenings onslaught, and after a bit of persuading I get Sue and Peter to come to Harry Ramsden's with me for fish and chips. At 7.45 after devouring a pleasant meal, I head off towards the Hare & Hounds, where I meet Carol just getting off the bus. All the mob gathers as usual, and I find solace in Miss Rushworth, who seems adicted to the Hare these days.
Christine D and I walked home up Thorpe Lane. We laughed ourselves hoarse, and the incline of the hill didn't make things much better. Lately, I've come to appreciare the wit and humour of CD, who has everyone in stitches every time she opens her mouth. Have a coffee with her before returning home at 12. Lynn and Dave greet me on my arrival home, and I bid them goodnight.
Last night was such a good night. It just goes to show that a change does one the world of good.
After a lazy day we all went down to the Hare & Hounds - even Sue and Peter - and I was surprised to see Helen Lockyer with the party again. She's finished with her latest boyfriend and is returned to the 'happy family' once again. We always welcome our deserters with open arms and harbour no grudges. The 'prodigal son' and all that.
I get quite merry in the Hare and at 10.30 we all, eleven of us I think, pile into Peter's van and head for the Cow & Calf. Christine tells me I'm 'off hand' but I don't think I am. Anyway, what does she expect from me? If she'd have snapped her fingers a few weeks ago I'd have been on my knees - her total slave - but now I'm hardening too. She keeps saying she'll never be hurt again, and that too applies to me.
Don't really have a good time like last Saturday. I can't stop thinking about Sarah. Why? I've known her for eighteen months, but never before have I felt so different. I've always fancied her, but never really took it seriously, or expected anything to come of it. Admittedly, November 5 was different, but I blame that on the alcohol.
Home at 2.30 in Peter's van. Ten of us coming back because Helen rang her Dad. Immediately to bed.
Feel grotty and ill for the best part of the day. Like a bloody fool, I took two more tablets with my breakfast, and they didn't agree with me at all. However, having upset Mum already, I didn't want to worry her even more, so I left for work without mentioning to her just how ill I felt.
Sarah was beautiful today. She always makes a fuss of me, and was an absolute angel about me feeling bad.
Eileen was back from Spain, all white and pickled with alcohol - and so I delegated a lot of my powers to her.
Home at 6 feeling a lot better. A bath and a brush up brings me round, and I prepare to set out for Horsforth to meet Sarah and Mrs Johnson. We attempt to do the whole of Town Street, starting at the Old Ball. But we end up four pubs further on at the Brown Cow at 10.30. Still, it gives us the excuse to do it all again next weekend.
After leaving Carol at 10.30 I walk Sarah home to West End Lane. It's lovely to get my arms around her, and I'm sure she feels a little something for me too. I met 'Auntie' Delia for the first time. Not at all what I expected, but somehow Sarah is a bit like her in character. Her Dad just walked into the room and belched, but he's endearing in a funny sort of way. I kept saying I'd walk home, but 'Auntie' protested and offered me a lift in the car. Sarah and her Mum brought me home, and I hadn't so much as laid a lip on her all night. I'll have luck one day though, you mark my words.
A rotten day. I took several of those tablets at teatime and went out to the Fox & Hounds with Christine at 8, where I had one pint of cider. The two of us then moved on to the Hare, which was open for the first time in a week, where I had another couple of drinks. Suddenly I felt all peculiar and odd. John noticed that I was 'off hand' with him for some unknown reason, and 'George' too seemed curious about the way I was 'carrying on'.
When I got home at 11 I was rude to Mum and upset her, and then I went into semi-hysterics. Upsetting everyone in the house was unforgivable of me, and I vowed to Mum that I'd never take a tablet from that bottle again. I've not felt spot on since bloody Ludlow prescribed them for me a week ago. It really was an awful experience, and I never want to have anything like that happen to me again.
To get back to better things. I met Dave and one of his mates in Whitelocks at lunchtime and bought them a few pints each because they were so short of money. His pal is obsessed with sex and it seems horribly immature to hear people like that go on and on. We all know how we feel about the opposite sex, but I don't see why it should be the sole topic of conversation every time men gather together under one roof. I'm not odd, am I?
Lynn and David entertained me over a bottle of apricot wine this evening. John was, quite naturally, out with 'George', and Susan was babysitting. Mum and Dad being out at the pub, we had the house free. Saw episode two of 'The Poisoning of Charles Bravo' and all I can say is it must be a good programme because I rarely remain indoors for the sake of a TV programme, but this is an exception. 'Edward VII' is another one of course, but I never go out on Tuesdays anyway.
Bed at 11pm after having fish and chips for supper. A warm night, and I lay in bed with the curtains drawn back admiring the night sky and the beautiful stars.
(Oh, by the way. I met Christine in the Ostlers at 12.30 today, and we had a few drinks. Believe it or not, I've lost my passion for her now, and feel 'head over heels' with Sarah.)
I know it's naughty of me, but it's now a week since I laid pen on this diary, and even me, the genius that I am, cannot possibly recall totally what actually occurred on June 24, 1975. However, you will, no doubt, be interested to know that Sarah, Mrs Johnson and I are 'doing Town Street' on Friday. When I say 'doing Town Street' I really mean to say 'doing a pub crawl down Town Street', which means exactly the same thing, but the former covers up a good deal of what actually is going on, if you follow my meaning. Oh, shut up, Michael.