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Monday September 8, 1975


I've just been flicking through the entries for July and I'm horrified by some of the terrible things I've said about Carole. I really do not know why I should have taken that attitude. I met her on July 12 and immediately decided she 'wasn't my type'. Then, on July 13, I said 'she isn't going to be easy to get rid of'. Then on the 16th of the same month I labelled her a 'bitch'. By the 19th I was having second thoughts about my not liking her, and four days after that, on the 23rd, I'd quite fallen for her. She went on holiday on the 26th and I didn't see her again until I returned from Majorca on August 23. I could of course erase all the terrible references about her from my diary, but that would be censorship, which simply won't do. Let us hope that they never fall into her hands that's all - the diaries I mean.

Work wasn't too busy and I was home at 5.30 in a starved state ready for tea. John doesn't get in until 6.30 because his damned car broke down. The poor boy is forever plaged with useless cars and no matter what he does to try to fix them they rarely seem to go. One would think that a five year-old Triumph Spitfire would be a bit more reliable. In his attempts to get it home he was compelled to leave it in Guiseley, and at 8pm I went out to help him push it up the lane. You have no idea just how steep Hawksworth Lane is until you try to push half a ton of metal up it. In the process of doing this I went over on my ankle and had to stagger home.

Mum went off to the Commercial to do her bit for the nation and I sat with my foot up watching 'Al Capone', starring Rod Steiger. John brings 'George', and I don't think I mentioned what happened last night. When the girls had left at about 11.30 we said we'd signal to one another across Tranmere Park by flashing our bedroom lights on and off. It was a great success, and we learned tonight that even Mrs Macdonald was participating.

'George' stayed for her supper and left at about midnight. Mum came home at about the same time after having had a good night.

Carole rang me at 7pm and I said we should go out tomorrow. She said something about me seeing a lot of her lately, but I really don't think I have. Wednesdays, Fridays, Saturdays and Sundays isn't every day of the week is it? After great mathematical calculations I realise I do ot see her on Mondays, Tuesdays and Thursdays.

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Sunday September 7, 1975

15th after Trinity. Wake up on the sofa at Dunedin House with my arms round the most beautiful girl in the world. That was 7am. Feel as though I'm dying with 'dog disease' and the symptoms are very similar to those I suffered from in Windsor last September. John and 'George' are upstairs and I persuaded Carole to go investigate. John comes down at about 7.15 and we both leave for home. Mum will be worried sick if she has just happened to go into our room. The poor soul will be thinking we are dead, or something.

Crawl into bed at 7.30 and sleep until nearly 2pm, when Mum comes in to say that lunch is about ready. She did call in on us at 6am when Dad was leaving for work and was worried, as I thought she would be. I told her that Maria had had a party and at the last minute we decided to stay over. Chicken for lunch followed by a much needed cup of coffee in the lounge in front of an ailing Gary Cooper film.

At 4.30 we both go back to 'George's' where I sit about playing old Beatles LPs whilst the girls get out of bed! Lazy devils that they are. They even had me making cups of tea while they sat propped up in bed. Not forgetting the mountains of coconut cake which they quickly demolished. At about 5 we decided to go off for a walk over the moors taking Prinney with us. John, of course, had to go as far as Thorpe Lane in the car, but we, the four of us, managed to do a lengthy all round trip of Hawksworth. It was such a great afternoon. Carole was wearing her large 'oil rig' type shoes, and thus kept falling on her back in the brambles and heather - much to my advantage I can tell you.

At about 7 we got back to our place where the four of us had tea. 'George' asked of Mum was artistic because she'd laid the table in such a nice way. I must admit, I've never noticed this before, but on reflection I must agree. Mum and Dad go off to see Auntie Hilda, &c. and we all play records and watch an Orson Welles film. Prinney came back too, and Dad quite took to him. I'm looking forward indeed to getting a dog.

We have a great time really and I'm getting to love Carole even more so now. Today will go down as one of my favourite days of all time.

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Saturday September 6, 1975

Mum gets me up at about 11. I ring Carole at 'George's' after breakfast and she says we ought to do something this aftnernoon, but she's going shopping in Leeds with her mother first. Like a fool I say I'll hang about at home until she gets back, which isn't for another six hours! After doing absolutely nothing all afternoon I eventually get the call from Carole at 6pm and immediately go down to 'George's' for tea - supposedly that is. Mr & Mrs Macdonald have gone off to Cardiff to see their elder daughter, and so 'George' is grandad sitting for the weekend. John is already at the house and he's yelling at 'George' for not being ready. They are going to Brummels near York with Keith and Helen at 8pm and at 7.30 she's still far from ready.

Carole makes me a beef curry while I rumage through Jimmy's records looking for an LP he played me ages ago. Not knowing the name of the group or the album dooms me to failure from the start. The curry was quite good, and I devoured it whilst Carole prepared herself to go out. John and 'George' go out at 8, and that leaves the two of us with Grandad (Savage). I take him his milk up, and Carole sees that he's nicely tucked in bed. We then walk romantically to White Cross where we get a bus to the Hare. The evening had that autumn feeling about it, and I'm sure we've seen the last of this astonishing summer once and for all.

John, Keith and the ladies leave shortly after we arrive, and that leaves Chris, who is with Gillian U, Christine D, Christine B, who is with a mob at the other end of the bar and doesn't stay with us for a great length of time. Raymond is in with Lumsden and they are keeping away too, so in fact the only ones conglomerated around the juke box are Carole and I, Chris and Gillian, Peter M and Christine D. Nothing much is going on and I can't help thinking that Chris fancies Carole. We had decided to go back to 'George's' to see a horror film, but Peter persuaded us to go up to the Cow & Calf. Out-numbered by women again. Good old CB came along. CB knows CD fancies Peter and has devilment written all over her face. Carole and I stand quite alone for a good part of the night, and I only danced once. We had such a laugh together too. Kept saying 'Cooee!' like Barry Humphries does in the latest Barry Mackenzie saga. Home at 2.30 to 'George's' where I fall asleep on the sofa.


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Friday September 5, 1975

At 11.30 I ring from the YP to bid my farewells to Lynn and Susan for ten days or so. At 2.30pm they leave for Winchester (where Alison now lives. Have I mentioned this before?)

Tonight I meet Carole at the Hare & Hounds where all the gang are assembled. Andy is having his last fling before Linda gets home tomorrow. David is there too, and I give him the £5 I owe him which cheers him up no end. I still can't get over him drinking port, but I've already gone into detail on that topic before.

I'm wearing jeans and Carole wants to go to Wikis, and so John brings me home and we both change. Whilst I'm away Carole manages to spill a pernod all over some innocent bystander - what a bloody waste. We go down to Wikis before 11 along with Andy, Pete M, Raymond and his latest girlfriend. Have a nice time but the place is markedly quiet. See Nigel Lister and Ronnie, who have at one time or another both been close friends with Lynn. Nigel always says hello, but Ronnie pretends he doesn't know me. Everyone seems to have taken to Carole. I noticed Raymond giving her wide-eyed stares, and I'll have to keep my eye on things. At 2.20am we walked up the lane to 'George's', where Carole is staying the weekend. It starts to rain and I get in at nearly 3 o'clock feeling slightly damp. Have two doughnuts, two cheese and pickled onion sandwiches, then come to bed and read a few paragraphs of 'My Queen and I'. Not bad eh, for 3.30 in the morning?

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Thursday September 4, 1975



At lunchtime I bought the book 'My Queen and I' by William Hamilton, MP. I don't really know why I bought it, because I said I never would, but I feel that before one criticises a person one must first listen to their argument. I sit at home reading it, and fuming. A really terrible publication, and poor Princess Margaret especially is pulled to pieces and generally demolished. You would think that because he is a Member of Parliament Mr Hamilton would be presumed to be of some intelligence, but he most certainly is not. Never have I read such drivel. How he twists the facts around is quite incredible. Cunning, sly and immensely wicked - he really is. If certain members of the Royal Family aren't as hard as nails, they will surely have been in tears reading this book.

See 'Top of the Pops' which isn't too good, and give Lynn and Sue £1 each to help them on their way across Europe tomorrow. The place will certainly be dull without them both, and as Mum was saying, we are losing four really because Dave and Peter will be gone too. Lynn especially seems excited tonight. She says they get the ferry to Belgium at 8.30 on Saturday, then go through Luxembourg and Switzerland to Italy, where they arrive late on Sunday afternoon. Mum is dreading them going and I think she'll be a bit tearful tomorrow.

Horror of Horrors! Met Dave B in town this afternoon and went to Whitelocks for a quick drink. He informs me that not one single holiday photo of mine came out. The whole film was ruined, and he's not sure whether the camera is broken or not. Just think, if Chris had not taken a camera too, we would have no photographs of our Majorcan holiday. Dave didn't say much other than that he considers himself the guardian of the bunch going tomorrow. I'm sure Peter and Martyn are quite capable of looking after themselves and the women aren't so useless either - especially after their Spanish extravaganza last year.

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Wednesday September 3, 1975

I'm not going to say a single thing about work today because so many things of much greater importance occurred.

At lunchtime (12.30) I met David, Marita and MM in the Wellesley. We all had a few sandwiches and several drinks but the atmosphere wasn't much good. ________. At 1.30 me and Marita had to return to work, whilst MM and David went off in the direction of Leeds University in order to sabotage the library therein. What a great life these millions of unemployed lead! Since 'signing on' on the dole this morning they've just enjoyed themselves in order to forget the traumatic experience. Dave said that fifty three people - mostly old, spitting men in flat caps - were in the queue in front of him in the social security place this morning. I for one would absolutely hate the idea of having to go (there). The humiliation of it all cannot be worth the mere few bob one receives for it. I'd rather do without.

At 4.30 Dave collects me from the YP along with MM and Marita and for the first time in what seems like years, I get a lift home. Arriving home early I mess about in the garden because I've forgotten my key and Mum isn't in until 5.25. Sue gets home just after me, and we have such a laugh. I'll certainly miss her when she goes to Italy on Friday.

John tells me that Carole hasn't been well this week and probably isn't fit to go out tonight. Once again I'm going out with a girl who doesn't have a telephone. So at 8 I decide to go round and see her. I walk all the way to Menston, and her mother makes me tremendously welcome. Her (Carole's) aunt keeps calling me Nick or Nicholas, but she soon gets the hang of my real name. The two of us go over to the Hare where Lumsden is celebrating his birthday. Christine B says she's going flying in a private 'plane on Saturday night, and we laugh about it. Darryl Wills - EP reporter - catches my attention, and the next time I look for Carole she's gone. Andy is pissed and says she's buggered off, and like a maniac I go round to her place in Keith's car. Before I know where I am, half the Hare & Hounds roll up, and they all have coffee. Carole says she's sorry but I still feel mad about it. I'll get my own back somehow. Keith drops me off in Guiseley.

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Tuesday September 2, 1975

Mum & Dad hear that they've failed to get the Menston Arms. I'd quite built up my hopes for the place and don't think Mum is too happy about the news either. Why, Oh why can't things ever be nice and easy for our family? I'm sure we must be fated or something. Dad thinks that the New Inn in Guiseley is a good place to try for, but I don't think it looks like anything special at all.

Marita rings at 7.30 to see about meeting me for lunch in the Wellesley tomorrow. Dave will of course be coming along, and probably MM. Haven't seen Marita since that party we had at the end of July. _______.

John sold his Morris 1100 today. £15!! I think it's quite ridiculous because he paid £150 for it 13 months ago, but he doesn't seem peturbed by his loss. His wild hysteria over the spitfire is probably still colouring his judgement, but I bet he'll regret giving his old car away one day. You mark my words.

Auntie Hilda and Uncle Tony came this evening. I was in the midst of watching 'Quo Vadis' a 3-hour film based on the Roman Empire and the Christians, &c. Peter Ustinov is Nero, and Deborah Kerr a sensual slave-girl. Not a good film really. Mum, Dad, Hilda and Tony went to the New Inn to give it the 'once over'. By strange coincidence, John and 'George' were also inspecting the New Inn at the same time, and they came back at 11pm with tales of wonder. Evidently, it isn't a bad place after all, and even John was impressed by the decor. I shall have to see it to believe it. Doubting Thomas is like a rice pudding compared with me.

The Gadsbys return for supper and we tuck into beef sandwiches and sardine sandwiches. John brings 'George' back and Peter Nason is here too. Lynn and Dave are round at Christine D's residence and don't get back until late.

After 'Quo Vadis' I switched onto BBC2 and see the 1705 version of 'Jane Eyre' starring Orson Welles and Olivia de Havilland's plain sister - I can't remember he name now. An outstanding film anyway, and I came to bed after the Gadsby's departure at 12.00.

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Monday September 1, 1975


The first of September. I cannot decide if the year's gone really quickly or not. _____.

Lynn passed two more 'O' levels today, so now she's got seven 'O' levels. I have four, and Sue has two.______.

See in one of the cheaper Sunday papers that the fiend who's been pestering Princess Anne over the past weeks actually never heard the princess on the phone or has uttered a word to anyone at Oak Grove House. He was dismissed from his Post Office job for eaves-dropping. I think it is only right and proper under the circumstances. __________.

Oh, by the way. On Friday I wrote a lengthy letter to 'George' under the pretence that it was from Lord Macdonald of Sleat, Chief of the Macdonald clan. She rang at 6.30 to talk about it. Her Mum's been in hysterics all day about it and she's still laughing herself under the table now. Judith Rushworth may well be right when she says I should write a novel. Harold Pinter may be able to knock off Lady Antonia Fraser, but I bet I can write much better than he can.

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Sunday March 25, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn British Summer Time begins 3rd Sunday in Lent Bacon sandwiches and the Sunday Telegraph. Fuss about the Queen's visit to ...