Everyone is back in the routine now. Christmas is over after what seems like eight weeks of merry making and festivities.
To Leeds with Jim Rawnsley at 8am. The only thing worth reading in the papers today is the tale that Lord Grosvenor, son of the Duke of Westminster, will probably marry Princess Marie-Christine of Belgium. You may think I revel in trivia and poppycock but that's how I was made and none of you can do anything to help me. Some people read only the sports pages, others gloat over grizzly court cases - I just happen to like gossip and high society news.
While I'm on the subject of scandal, you may as well hear my opinion on the Douro-Hunnicutt affair. I categorically state that Marquess Douro will NEVER marry Gayle Hunnicutt, the actress. I'm willing to put my shirt on it.
Carole rings at lunchtime and I tell her of Uncle Harry's offer to 'put us up' for the night on Feb 7. She likes the idea.
My lips cracked again today. I think the cold weather is responsible. Uncle Harry isn't the only guy who may be quiting these fair, damp islands for the eternal sun and paradise of the Continent. First Englebert Humperdink, then Elton John, Rod Stewart, and now Uncle Harry! Denis Healey's taxes are driving all the talent from these shores and I don't think he'll realise what a national loss it is until someone of REAL genius departs... like.... er...er... ME.
Dave L rings at 7pm to say he can't make it to 'Monty Python and the Holy Grail' tomorrow. Carole rings again at 7.10 and I inform her we're going on Wednesday instead. We were both pleasant and cheerful with each other.
2nd after Christmas. Wake up at about 10.30 with C. __________________________.
In the process of dressing Carole knocked her rings off the bedside cabinet and found them all but for the one I bought her for Christmas. Chris tells us not to panic and that he'll empty the room of all its contents in order to find it. Sue and Pete (who both slept in the bathroom),CD (who was violently sick all over Andrew Ratcliffe's room and made no attempt to clear it up), John, Maria, Carole and I are the only people left by 11.30am and Carole is driven off at high speed by John to the laundrette with the vomit ravaged sheets from CD's bed.
Whilst they're out Dave B rings to say her found Carole's priceless pearl ring in his pocket on his arrival home and tells me 'not to worry about it'. I give a sigh of relief and settle down with the book 'Jaws', which Chris says is completely different from the film.
Carole comes back and goes upstairs immediately to continue the search for the ring, and I'm reading for ten minutes before I realise what she's doing. I go upstairs after her and enter the bedroom. I tell her DB's news and kiss her on the lips. Immediately I can taste cigarette smoke on her breath but she denies point blank that any cigarette has passed her lips for weeks. Whilst she is making this solemn vow I glance over her shoulder to see a cigarette smouldering in an ash tray behind the curtain. We both disolve in fits of laughter and then go back to join the others.
At 12.30 Sue, Pete, CD, Carole and me leave Chris's for home in a snow storm. Carole gives me her red umberella and I use it to scale the north west face of Hawksworth Lane. Home for lunch with Mum, Dad and Uncle H. (He leaves at 10.30 Monday morning).
At 6pm I get a bus to Carole's where we argue like cat and dog until 10 o'clock. At 9.30 we went to the Chevin Inn where we both cheered up a good deal. I tell her we are both too serious to enjoy life (which is not true) and then say I talk a load of rubbish. Home at 11 o'clock for supper with Mum, Dad and Uncle H.
Bed at 1am.