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Tuesday June 7, 1977

A tremendous historic day. I had a restless night and alighted from my bed just after nine this morning. Took a seat near the television and remained in that position all day.

No words can adequately describe the pageant of the procession through London to St Paul's Cathedral by the Queen and the Duke in the State coach - not used since her coronation 24 years ago this month. The Queen was dressed in pink and looked amazing. In the cathedral, and later at the Guildhall, she seemed to be overcome with emotion and appeared 'lost' amidst it all - very unusual because I have never seen her show emotion at all. The crowds in the Mall were wondrous and the balcony scenes- in pouring rain - were magnificent. The Peter Lazenbys and Willie Hamiltons of this world have lost.

Balcony scene: June 7 1977
John and Maria called in this afternoon to see if someone could babysit for JPH tonight. They're going out with Molly and Jim tonight. (John says Jim won £40 on the horses yesterday). ______. Mum and Dad went down to Silverdale Drive at 7.15. Neither in boisterous mood.

Tony phoned and I told him that Il Travatore was completely 'out' tonight due to lack of funds and I was faced with the prospect of a night alone. Lynn is working at the Hare. Sue and Peter are out. So just after 7.30 I took to my bath. Watched television. Yes, the edited highlights of the Jubilee with an excellent commentary by Tom Fleming, and at 11 a Laurence Oliver/Katharine Hepburn epic. To bed at 1am.

The close of a magnificent day of pageant, splendour and occasion. Let's hope that the Queen will be around in another 25 years time because Elizabeth is all that the United Kingdom can ever be.


Monday June 6, 1977

A wet, revolting day, but an amazing evening. Everyone utterly bored - especially Lynn, who took to eating until she almost made herself sick. Mum and Dad went out for the day and so did Susan and Peter. Lynn told me that __________.

Tony and Martyn came up in the afternoon and watched cricket on TV. Incredibly boring it all was. At 7.30 we went off to the off-licence and then up to the Emmott's where we were joined by Sue, Pete, Lynn, Dave and Jimmy Macdonald. From here we all went on to the Chevin. The traffic was unbelievable. Thousands just to witness the Jubilee Beacon, which went up at about 10.30pm. Tony wanted to dash off immediately afterwards, but everybody had the same idea, and we're blocked in for just over 2 hours. Sue, Pete, Jimmy and I sat on the car roof with our bottles singing 'Vivat Regina' and other appropriate Jubilee melodies. I attempted to sell clumps of 'Jubilee turf'' to the assembled mob, but have no success. Jimmy does nothing but laugh.

People in the crowded Royalty pub were locked in and subsequently we were locked out. I attempted to push Susan in through the ladies toilet window, again without success, but we had tremendous fun all the same. Jimmy and I wandered back to the blazing beacon for half an hour before returning home at about 1am.

Mum and Dad said they'd been on the Chevin Road but couldn't get near the beacon. They saw Auntie Hilda and Uncle Tony too. _____.


Sunday June 5, 1977

Trinity Sunday. Yes, collapsed at about 6.15am. The lounge was the site of this pathetic breakdown. Slept until elevenish. Never have I felt so miserable in my whole life when I eventually surfaced. Dark glasses were immediately salvaged from the wreckage that was once Pine Tops and breakfast was taken in horrific circumstances. The other participants, Dave, Glen, Martyn and the ladies Lynn & Sue all seemed to be calm and free from pain.

Commercial at Esholt
To the Commercial at noon. Yet more lager was consumed by Martyn and myself. Dave G had one miserable pint of bitter and then converted to Coca cola and Glen stuck to soft drinks throughout. Four or five pints later I felt infinitely better. Am I perhaps reliant on alcohol?

Tony came down with a buxom maiden and a split in his trousers and indulged in the usual frivolities. She, the buxom maiden, seemed quite nice, and in the usual cast.

with Martyn & Glen
Back to Pine Tops for lunch at 2. Martyn and I are pissed up. Dave, Glen, Martyn and I then went to see John & Maria and JPH for half an hour and then the lads returned to Stockport. I'll be going down to see them soon - my next free Saturday is June 25. I'll make a state visit then.

Lynn, Dave B, Sue, Pete N, Martyn and I went to the Flying Pizza in Leeds and had a Jubilee nosh up. A good laugh. It's a rare event these days to get out for something to eat. We do seem to be motivated by drink - a sad reflection on the youth of today. Forever Pissed, is an apt motto. On to the Oddfellows at Greengates where Michelle is with her boyfriend. Have a bit of a chat - but no mention of Friday's romantic grapple up against Tony's car.


Saturday June 4, 1977

Tony and Martyn come this morning to help me put up the Jubilee bunting for the party. A large poster of the Queen in full regalia in the ballroom at Buckingham Palace goes up in a prominent position in the lounge along with Jubilee balloons and a Norman Parkinson portrait too. Very patriotic indeed.

The lads went to Bradford but I stayed at home waiting for Dave and Glen to join us. They arrived at 3.30 and after lunch I took them to Otley where we find an of-licence shop for wine and ale. The three of us spent about £3 each.  We get on famously and Dave is anxious to know when I'm going to Stockport again. The night at the Poco Club was a fabulous evening and it's a shame we don't all meet up more frequently.

Edith & Ernest
Tony, Martyn, Dave, Glen and I went to the Commercial together. Mum, Dad, John, Maria, Sue, Peter, Lynn, Dave B, Dave L, MM, Marita, Sarah, Peter B, Chris, Peter N are in the pub. Not many, and no 'spare' ladies at all. Chris and Pete _________.They're shocked when I say I won't be going to Denise's 21st. I'll be in Stockport on July 9. They took this news very badly. Peter Baker and Sarah had some sort of disagreement in the pub and he took her off home after half an hour or so much to my astonishment. I rang her at 11.30 but she hadn't arrived home and so I presume they must have 'made up' and gone elsewhere.

The throng was joined at home by Edith and Ernest and Mike and Maureen Eccles (the new neighbours). Not many at all really and Lynn says it's the quietest party of all time. I wasn't too pissed and yet I cannot recall much to report. Parties tend to blend together and a six hour spree can be condensed into the space of a few minutes. Glen and I were the last men standing and we were in the dining room listening to Cinzano and drinking the Santana LP 'Abraxas' ...or was it the other way round? I had a couple of cigarettes. That's the minute of my miserable life. It was agonizing watching the dawn break over Tranmere Park and the dreadful racket made by the birds. Oh, my head!


Friday June 3, 1977

Dave of Stockport rings to say Glen is having a spot of car trouble and that they are now coming tomorrow instead.

Tony and I spent the whole day in the garden sunbathing. Just sprawled out in the garden covered in sun tan lotion with the radio serenading us. Wonderful. Mother brought a halt to this when she asked us to go to Morrison's to do the weekly shop for her. We went up at 4 o'clock. Just imagine - me and Tony with a trolley and shopping bags. He's quite a good bargain finder too - he must be used to it what with him once being a married man & the obligations that go with that institution. Mother was very relieved and grateful when she saw the £14 worth of goods piled in the kitchen awaiting her inspection. She loathes shopping.

Meanwhile: that night. Out with Tony and Martyn to the Bod (Bradford) where we meet Michelle and her friends. A nice girl called Mary caught my eye. I have a feeling that Michelle fancies me. Do I fancy her? Well, she's very nice looking, perhaps a bit fat, but endowed with a sweet personality.

We all go on to the Hare & Hounds at Heaton which is very full. Martyn paled with anger and became quite violent in the seething pack of sweating bodies. Took Michelle and the girls home. We kissed against the car. Tony found this very funny sand suggested that Martyn might drive the car in future so that he could sit in the back. He couldn't see why I should have all the fun. In by 11.30pm.


Thursday June 2, 1977

Oakwood Hall
Hot day. Clad in my new white trousers I went down the lane at 7.30 to meet Carole but my shoes were crippling me and after meeting C we set off back home so I could change my footwear. Carole called in to see Naomi while I was changing. Eventually set off to Bingley at about 8.30, and we went in a cheerful condition. Neither of us argued today and things went much better. Carole told me that _________.The only 'touchy' moment came at Oakwood (Hall) when I said I could never forgive her parents for what they did to her last year. She said it was cruel and nasty of me. No comment.

Oakwood Hall was packed out and the heat so intense that I felt grotty and tired towards the end. We danced a little but seemed to spend most of the night in conversation. Home by taxi at 2am. She is going to arrange the visit to London on June11. Let's hope I'll have a few bob to spend by then because I'm quite sick of having no money. Are the IMF on the phone perhaps. May be worth trying.


Wednesday June 1, 1977

Phoned Carole this afternoon. She used some marvellous adjectives and in the space of a few minutes referred to me as 'chicken', 'lamb' and 'poppet'. We discussed going to London on June 11 but have no idea how to go about it. Grange's Coaches have gone bankrupt.

The only sad thing about going on the rampage on the continent with Martyn is Carole. I'm more attached to her now than I ever was before - even though things get somewhat stormy at times. Neither of us are particularly placid and we just fail to see eye to eye at times. This doesn't mean we think any less of each other.

On to a more unpleasant subject: Money. Barclaycard want £70 from me by June 6. They've brought my bloody credit payment day forward by three bloody weeks! No chance of paying so I'll just have to pay what I can manage and hope that some idiot in Stockton-on-Tees (or wherever Barclaycard hangs out) is endowed with a loving, gentle nature.

Think of poor Christine. The funeral is tomorrow and I only hope they both bear up. The agony must be incredible. However, I shan't bother her for a week or so because people like me must only be a hindrance at such a time as this.

Tony and Martyn came this evening and we went to the Hare & Hounds at Heaton. We had no money at all and we only drank half pints. Disgraceful, I know, especially in Jubilee week, but what else can be done?

Tony was a complete misery tonight for some reason. Home at about10 o'clock. To bed with Anne Boleyn by Marie Louise Bruce. A very interesting book and not one I'd normally read. The Tudor period is something I haven't touched upon since I was 14 or 15 years old. I'm quite ignorant on the subject.


Tuesday May 31, 1977

CB: completely flattened
A horrible, sad day. Christine rang at about 10 and said she wouldn't probably be able to attend my Silver Jubilee party. She sounded so strange, and her voice was full of sadness. I asked why, and she told me her father had died yesterday evening. I was thoroughly lost for words and shocked. She cried a bit and I think I blurted something about going to see her straight from the YP and then put the phone down.

I last saw poor Mr Braithwaite on April 29 and to think I will never see him again leaves me cold. Death is a wicked thing. In CB's shoes I'd just fall to pieces.

Left work at 4.30. Marita picked me up on Wellington Street. I told her the news and questioned her as to whether it's quite right calling in on somebody so soon after a tragedy. She thinks it can well be a comfort and so I'm encouraged. Christine is ashen faced and quiet. She hasn't quite grasped what has happened yet. Mrs B was sat smoking and did not stop talking. In fact both of them were constantly chattering about irrelevant topics and only when a lull in the conversation occurred it became obvious that they're acutely distraught. Christine's eyes were full of tears. The poor things are completely flattened. God knows what they'll do. Mr B was always the life and soul of the party -  & even I, who barely knew him, thought of him as a kind, warm and tremendous character.

CB brought me home at 5.30 and the whole family offered some sympathy and comfort.

Although the evening was sunny and bright I felt cold & miserable.

I rang Carole at lunchtime but only her obnoxious boss was in. Said I'd ring back but never got round to it.

Tony rang at 8 to say he's finally received communication from Denise in Australia. _____________.

Just watched TV until midnight and thought constantly of poor Christine and her mother. Even Lynn, who'd been working at the Hare, reports that they've all heard the news. To bed with Anne Boleyn by Marie Louise Bruce.


Monday May 30, 1977

Cloudy, but warm. A hectic day at the YP. Spent most of the day finding pics of all descendants of King George V and Queen Mary for Jack Stancomb's contribution to the Jubilee supplement. The chaos created by the Jubilee is quite amazing. The general public are going berserk and all think of little else at the moment.
Her Majesty at Covent Garden.

Don't get home until 5.45. Tony and Linda have finished - for good. Oh, not again! I have only just posted her birthday card too.  They'll have made up by the weekend. Or will they?

Rang Dave in Stockport. He'll be over on Friday evening. He's going to ring me on Thursday.

Saw the Queen, and many members of the royal family, on TV, at the Silver Jubilee Gala at the Royal Opera House Covent Garden. At midnight when she left in her large Rolls Royce the streets of London were packed with thousands of people waiting to catch a glimpse of Her Majesty. Jubilee fever. People are going insane with patriotism. The crowd was singing the National Anthem louder than I've heard it before. The Queen is perfection. Truly a legend. If this momentum grows with the years until the Golden Jubilee God knows what will happen.


Sunday May 29, 1977

Whit Sunday. Tony and I had another heart to heart chat until dawn on the usual subject - women. 'Is it better to love, or to be loved?' and 'is it better to have loved and lost, than to have never loved at all?' were the age-old questions posed, &c. He says he's given up with _______.I do not believe him. No sooner will she be back from __________.Horribly sad really.

Picked Linda W up at 12 and went to the Commercial. It seems to be on again with Miss White. Tony and Linda have had more than the usual amount of turbulence in their two month relationship.

Nora: metabolic upheaval
Back to Pine Tops where Mama is in a foul mood. She moans about me 'using' her and says that no Sunday lunch will be put out for me again if I stay out all night on a Saturday. So, it's goodbye to Sunday lunches then. She knows damn well of my whereabouts and at 8.30 yesterday evening she was quite amiable about my arrangements. Weird, bad tempered old bird. She was also rude to Tony and Linda and told me afterwards that she could not be sociable with my friends on  a Sunday lunchtime. A rude and ridiculous thing to say. Is perhaps poor Mum undergoing some metabolic upheaval. She is 42.

The Yorkshire Post was up to its usual standard this evening. John Cameron brought Tony and Linda to see me at 9 o'clock and I showed them round the library. Tony looked at the photos of Lady Ancram - whom he knew as Jane Howard when he lived near Arundel all those years ago.

Left at 11.30 with a subdued taxi driver who expounded no tremendous new theory to me.


Saturday May 28, 1977

Don't get out of bed until 12 noon but when I do I feel better. Still slightly 'tingly' but better at least. I shudder at the sight of Lynn, clad only in a scanty bikini, laying prostrate on the lawn. 'Don't do it!' I yell from the window, but my pleas go unnoticed as the powerful suns beats down upon my poor, vulnerable sister. Will our roles of last night be reversed and will I be nursing my sister tonight? Time can only tell.

Peter the Alsatian.
Ring Tony and he and Martyn call at 12.30. To the Black Bull in Otley and then the Bowling Green. Very hot day. Feel it penetrating my shirt (the sun, that is). Move on to Otley Show which is something of a dead loss. Nothing to look at but hot dog stands and beer tents. Watch Alsatian dogs competing in some ridiculous charade, and unbelievably the winning dog was called 'Peter'. A dog called Peter?  Peter the iguana - yes, Peter the Tortoise, yes. Peter the budgie, yes. But Peter the Alsatian, no.

Lynn & Dave
Tony comes back for tea and at 8, or possibly 9, we go for Martyn and then to Skipton again. Not very enjoyable and it's back to the Rose & Crown for 10.30. Phil Hewitt and the clan were in - no comment.

Back to Tony's flat. Tony and Martyn fall asleep leaving me with a large glass of Scotch and 'Saturday Night at the Mill' on TV. Oh God, I think, what a bore. But Tony was soon awake and he took Martyn home and then came dashing back and took me to Il Travatore, where we find Lynn and Dave B. Joined by Ruth and Linda. All back to the flat where we sat all night just talking. The girls left at 3am and Lynn and Dave at 4am. Tony went to bed at 6 and I sat in a chair dozing on and off until 11am. Am I perhaps insane? No doubt.


Friday May 27, 1977

Beautiful, hot, marvellous day. By 10.30 I'm in the garden covered head to foot in sun-tan oil, reminiscent of a Roman gladiator, and it's in this idyllic pose that I remained throughout the day, breaking off only for lunch.

My Jubilee party is secure. How did I manage it? Well, Mrs Eccles, our new neighbour, was in the garden talking about the noise the workmen are making in her house and expressed her hope that we are not put out by the banging. 'Oh no', said I, 'we're always making loud noises too, you know.Parties and things'. Before I could sit and savour my craftiness here I'd invited her and her hubby to our party on June 4, and Mama, lurking behind a clump of dying tulips, just couldn't say anything. So, it's all on.

How does one manage to get a job in Spain? Do I write to the Spanish Ambassador to the Court of St James? I am very much aware that I asked this question on Wednesday but I've still done bugger all about finding out.

Taking a bath this evening was painful. I realise I've over done it with the sunbathing. In fact I'm not so much like a gladiator now, more like a heap of tomatoes, or pot of lobsters.

Tony rings to say Carole is joining us tonight. I readily approve. Susan joins us without Peter N. He's in Durham at a party with some friends. Independent Pete, eh?

To the Bod with Sue, Carole, Martyn and Tony. T picks up a tart called Maureen who resembles Shirley Bassey. A bit of a laugh. Very strange to be with Susan and not Peter too. She looks a bit lost as well.

I begin to feel ill a shake with cold. Carole offers no sympathy. She just smiles and says 'serves you right'. Bless her heart. Home at 11.30. To bed with a hot water bottle and an extra blanket. Feel delirious and realise I have bloody sun stroke. Lynn shows some concern and she sits on the edge of my bed offering assurance. By 12 I vomit and then go to sleep. Never felt anything like it before and can't quite understand how it takes 22 years to come to grief in the sun.


Thursday May 26, 1977

Just three hours at the YP - 9 to 12. A hot day again. Ate fish and chips in Guiseley and then went home for a large lunch. My God I'm going to become a fat swine. Carole rang me at 10.30 just to make sure I haven't forgotten. I assure her I could never forget. She now says she's wearing a red outfit tonight. Isn't she incredibly sweet discussing her wardrobe with me - My God, it's like the 'olden days'.

Tell Mum and Dad over lunch my Spanish idea and they say just what they said when I put forward the idea last summer: 'Now is the time to go. You are only young once', &c. I must say that in this field dear Mama and Papa have always encouraged me and I cannot help thinking that I'd be doing them a favour by clearing off. Not going to mention anything to Carole because it may prove alarming - if you know what I mean.,

Tony rings at 7.30 and suggests Carole and I go down to Ilkley for a drink but I want to be alone with her. Then John rings and says he and Maria want to join us and I say I'll meet them at the White Cross at 9 o'clock. Meet Carole at 8 and she shows me a jagged scar on her face which she supposedly accidentally inflicted upon herself 'picking up a broken cup in the kitchen'. It is obvious the some person or persons unknown did this to her. I do not question her about it but it is quite hideous.

Things don't go as well as last week, and last week didn't go quite as well as the week before and it is obvious that some deterioration in our newly rekindled friendship is taking place. We squabble and she becomes aggressive and childish about my smoking.

John and Maria came at 9 and after a drink we move on to Bingley (John and M in the car and me and C on the bus) and then from the pub the four of us go to Oakwood Hall. For some reason I become quite pissed and all memories of what exactly took place are vague. Remember seeing Keith Brown, Sandy Lawson and of course the intrepid Christine Braithwaite. Carole and I cheer up somewhat and vow not to argue again. It would perhaps help if we were left alone in future. Back at 2am in a taxi laughing a good deal.


Wednesday May 25, 1977

Hot day. Home by 5 and fully expect to stay in tonight but it is not to be. Martyn rings after tea and suggests going for a drink in Guiseley. Bloody Hell! Why not? Top marks for this brilliant idea, Martyn! He comes up and 8 and we walk over the fields to the Commercial (dear Beckindale in the classic tv series 'Emmerdale Farm'). We begin with lager and go on to pernod and by 10pm we're quite pissed.

Martyn: brilliant idea
You won't believe this but we decided over our second pernod to go work in Ibiza or Majorca after our holiday. OK, I've said it all before but I've never had anyone to team up with before and Martyn is just as much pissed off with the United Kingdom of Gt Britain as I am. Tony too and Dave of Stockport wouldn't mind leaving this miserable land to find a life of fortune in the Ballearic Islands. How do we go about getting there though? Do we write to the Spanish Embassy or the British Tourist Board? Or what?

We walked home over the fields again but now heavily laden with cow excreta and a profusion of nettles seem to have mysteriously appeared. Up to our buttocks in shit. Home by 10.30 and I entertain Martyn to coffee and toast thickly spread with mustard. He waits to be collected by Karen (Cole) who makes an appearance near midnight. In the cold light of tomorrow morning I will probably think the whole idea of drifting off to Spain is bloody idiotic, but now - here at this minute - all I can think is 'Why not?'


Tuesday May 24, 1977

Phoned Carole this morning to arrange Thursday night's meeting. Yes, it's Oakwood Hall, folks. She has not much to say other than she plans to wear the white creation with rope and other ornaments hanging from it - the one she wore one evening last June - when I asked her why she couldn't afford a proper belt. She always calls me 'Pet'.

Bananas: grow upwards
At 7pm I go to John & Maria's with a bunch of photographs that arrived this morning. Some excellent ones of JPH and my birthday 'freak out'. The baby won't sleep and the arrival of George (Waite), Jane, Molly and Jim doesn't help really. Molly walks in and goes off on a tangent about her recent Majorca holiday: "The cathedral at Palma was built in 1167 and it took four hundred years to complete and do you know bananas grow upwards? Because I always thought they hung downwards, like that, and Oh the food was first class, and we had lobster one night for an extra £2.67 which was really good compared with other hotels around because a nice girl we met from Manchester couldn't touch the meals served in her hotel, mind you she went with Thomson's who are usually very good and Oh the Caves of Drach were marvellous but the coach there was a bit on the long side and we didn't really like the wine bodegas like you would it's Jim's stomach you know....."  Just a sample of the great Molly for you. Jim gives me a lift home at 9.30.


Monday May 23, 1977

Dull, overcast day. The YP wasn't in any way exciting and so I won't bother you with any of the miserable details.

At tea time I see Mum and Dad for the first time since Saturday morning. She went to Molly & Jim's last night to meet Hugh. They are full of tales of JPH and go into raptures about his overnight stay at Pine Tops on Saturday night.

Just watch soddin' TV in the evening. Feature film 'One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich' based on the book by Solzenhitsyn - and not a very pleasant day for Ivan either. All it was really was some poor buggers digging holes in sub zero temperatures and eating fish heads and rabbit entrails.

The Prince of Wales was invested with the Order of the Thistle in Edinburgh this morning and I suspect that the Queen and the Queen Mother won't be feeling all that happy because BOTH their detectives, Sir Edward Perkins, KCVO and Chief Supt Sumner, have dropped dead on the Scottish visit over the weekend. A bit too much of a coincidence I fear.

Lynn is enjoying things at the Hare & Hounds, but I'm determined to avoid the place. It's been three weeks now and I haven't missed it, or any of it's inmates. A complete change was what I needed and I am enjoying it thoroughly.


Sunday May 22, 1977

Sunday after Ascension. A pity about last night because I liked the girls. But half a bottle of Scotch inside Tony finished off the relationship with a certain sordid flourish. It's unlike Tony because he isn't usually rude like that. he made endless apoligies about it afterwards pacing up and down the flat with his hair standing on end saying: "silly, silly boy".

I sat in a chair by the open window watching the sunrise but fell into bed wearing socks and shirt at about 5am waking seven hours later.

A brilliant, hot, sunny day. After a bit of cleaning round Tony and I got to the Rose and Crown for one final Sunday lunch drink. Then it was back to a deserted Pine Tops for coffee, a bath and slices of cheese on toast. There was no sign of any of the family when I left for the YP at 4.45pm.

Tony: pacing around with hair standing on end
Poor Tony _______.When he drove me home from Ilkley this afternoon I just sat and laughed at him. We laughed about Carole playing hard to get. Who would have believed any of it?

Nothing of interest at the YP. Telephoned Mama who says she spent the day at John & Maria's. Left at 11 with my eyes feeling like lead.

The taxi driver seemed to have an interest in the English language, particularly slang, and demonstrated his interest by the use of several words of a very coarse nature in some of his sentences. He was also a keen follower of the pop scene taking a particular interest in the charming songs performed by the Stylistics.


Saturday May 21, 1977

Wake up to a bright, sunny day at 12.15. Breakfast consists of a cup of coffee and becomes a very sombre affair when I open two letters. One from Hough (dentist) saying I owe him £3.50 for dental treatment I had in March, and the other from Barclaycard playing Hell at the way I've spent £243.70 when my credit limit is £200. Sod the lot of them.

Naomi gives me a lift to the Hare and Hounds bus stop and by 1.30 I'm in the off licence in Ilkley buying a few bottles for the match. Dumped the bottles in the shop (Smiths) and went to the Rose & Crown (with Tony) where we were joined by Linda and Ruth. All friendly enough but _____.

Just Tony and I back at the flat watching the FA Cup Final with three or four drinks. Manchester United beat Liverpool 2-1. At half time we spoke to Stuart W in Paris, and then again when Manchester scored first, and at the final result. Tony was ecstatic.

To Harry Ramsden's for tea and then up to Pine Tops where JPH is staying the night. Hugh Macdonald is home from Canada for a few days and so John and Maria are celebrating with the Macdonalds at Wath tonight.

Later: Tony, Martyn and I go to the Rose & Crown, Craven Heifer (Addingham) and the Barge at Skipton. We had quite a laugh. Back a bit pissed to the flat where we were joined by Linda and Ruth. Linda and Martyn are very quiet and I ended up with Ruth on the floor. Martyn said later that we seemed to be having a right "go". I blame the Carlsberg lager and Ruth's cheap Spanish white wine.

I have never had such a pleasurable experience with a married woman before. Something happened and an angry Tony ejected Linda from the flat telling her to ______. Both girls left, but I remember nothing about it.

In hysterics at 'Help' by Peter Sellers. It's the B-side of his version of 'Hard Day's Night'.

Martyn said nothing all night.

Friday May 20, 1977

Get up late, and my arrival at the YP is quite a bit later than normal ....get home late too because the bleedin' traffic takes a turn (or quite a few turns) for the worst.

Martyn, Tony and I go to the Connection in Shipley. Quite a nice place and the money collector/barmaid/cleaner/cook from Wikis is behind the bar. We exchange reminiscences. Martyn chats up the buxom wench serving pizza but gets nowhere. Then on to the Bod to to meet Michelle and Maxine. Michelle is so sexy --  Ooolahlah!!

Chris and Peter.
Peter M and Chris arrive. Pete demands I accept his apology for the bullshit and crap he threw at me on May 10. I refuse. Martyn is treated abominably too. Michelle says Pete is a 'snob' and Chris is something else.

Back to Michelle's for coffee. We embrace and KISS in the car and thoroughly enjoy it. Whatever became of her lewd boyfriend? Home at 12.30am. Arrange to go watch the Cup Final at Tony's tomorrow. Sit drinking coffee in bed and grinding my teeth at the bitchiness of _______. BASTARDS!

Thursday May 19, 1977

Ascension Day. No diarrhoea. John, Maria and a heavy JPH came this evening and they took me down to the White Cross at 8.15 where I met Carole 15 minutes later than I said I would.

Scrounged a lift from Mick Blades to Ilkley and ended up with Tony and Martyn in the Rose & Crown. John and Maria joined us at 9.30. To the Star too where Barbara (Woodhead) pulled my leg about me bringing my baby brother out with me.

Carole and I were apart all night and I blame the slimline, boiler suited Maria because once they get together the consequences are drastic.

To Oakwood Hall at 11pm but only Carole and I went in. For some reason things don't get off as well as last week. We blame it on our late arrival at Oakwood. CB and Maura are in - pissed - and C tries to muck it up with Carole and I. We both smoked and behaved like old lovers. She later played 'hard to get'. On the way up in the car from the Connection I assumed that she was going to Tony's on Saturday but she blew me out by saying she was going to a barbecue tomorrow and then to Leeds on Saturday and that my next appointment would be next Thursday. My God. Her lips are delicious! She bloody knows it too.

Home by taxi at 2am. She demanded to know why I had suddenly quietened. Why? I was the one who wanted the free life and now I'm not satisfied. Sod it.


Wednesday May 18, 1977

A good Spring day combined, sadly, with diarrhoea. A sad sentence to have to compile, but very true.

Marita brought me as far as Rawdon in her mini and when I told her I'd been out with Carole on Thursday she went into raptures saying how perfect we are together and that I haven't looked as happy since May '76.

Tonight Tony and I went out and said that I - for twelve months - had given the appearance of being thoroughly bored by the company and that my face always held a look of far-off expectation. Is all this a big publicity campaign paid for by Carole?

Tony came up at 8.30 and we bumped into Pete Lazenby on Park Road and out of courtesy we accompanied him to Guiseley Working Mens' Club. Nice, cheap lager, but oh the people. Honestly, I'm no snob and no one likes good honest people more than me but the sight of the people therein is ghastly. As though they're hating every minute - just waiting for the sirens to go off summoning then back to the factory floor.

Stone Trough
On to the Stone Trough until 10.30. A completely dead place. Even the juke plays at a whisper. Later Tony comes back home for a cup of tea and egg mayonnaise sandwiches. We discus phases one, two and three and I insist that they were started by the Heath government in 1973.

Janet Land is visiting Lynn.


Tuesday May 17, 1977

Feel grotty all day. Stomach ache mainly, and anorexia. All the same I forced down two sandwiches and a pea and ham soup - but could easily have done without. You don't want me collapsing at work do you?

Kathleen suggested that I ought to go home early, but like King Charles I (you know, him with the ginger hair and no head) I decided to be a martyr instead.

Carole: grandmother's accident
Carole rang at 3 and we decided to go out again on Thursday, again to Oakwood (Hall). I asked whether her mother had been knocked down, the victim of a road traffic accident and she laughed saying: "Oh no...
it 's my grandmother". It seems that the old lady fell in the path of a van belonging to the Gas Board and passed a night in Otley Hospital emerging with three stitches. Carole's attitude is quite frightening and she insists that the sight of ones beloved Grandmama disappearing beneath the wheels of a bright yellow NEGAS van isn't half as horrific as it sounds. Having no living grandmother myself I can never experience such a phenomenon.

Spent an evening in front of the television. The headlines on the 9 o'clock news was the royal visit to Scotland. It's the first of the 'Jubilee tours'. The BBC must have taken leave of their senses. A royal item to be the first item on the news? Surely the first such thing to occur since the abdication Edward VIII.

Took a bath after the royal spectacular and then returned to the drawing room to find Mama reclining on a sofa sipping delicately at her glass of Guinness. No other exercise whatsoever is allowed - Dr Jacques's orders.

Sit with a mug of cocoa and decide I feel much better. My bowels have improved tremendously since tea time. I cannot help thinking that Uncle Bert might have brought a virus with him from darkest Nottingham. Dearest Uncle will get his head kicked in if I find this to be so.


Monday May 16, 1977

Down the lane with a Spring feeling. For some reason my coiffure is standing on end reminiscent of a good old lavatory brush. Go to my hair stylist and emerge 45 minutes later having waved bye bye to about three quarters of a ton of glossy hair. No doubt the peasants have bagged it up and sold it on the Black Market for   huge sums. If they can do it with King Charles I's miserable, ginger stuff I fail to see why they can't do it with mine.

Home by 2 o'clock. Mum is flat out in bed with her back. She's in agony. Dr Jacques comes but he's more interested in my bloody cheeseburger.

Sue: reading about lice ..
Sue is revising for her hair dressing examination and is reading all about lice and other residents of the hairy regions.

Tony comes up at 3 and we go to Bradford and to (WH) Smith's. I hand over £568.28 to Michelle and I'm sure I've never held so much in my hands (that's money, you perverted fool). Accompany Tony to the Co-op where he attempts to rid himself of some of his wares and then it's back to Smith's where we meet Martyn at 4.45. M bought a new pair of shoes and I bought a large poster of the Queen, in Imperial state crown in the Throne Room at Buckingham Palace.

Martyn and Tony are playing golf at Ben Rhydding this evening. I don't want to go. Saw Spike Milligan on TV and Monty python repeats.

Mummy emerged from bed for a few hours but complained of constant pain. The doc has advised her to buy an orthopaedic bed at the earliest opportunity. Ate fish and chips and retired after 12.


Sunday May 15, 1977

Hereward the Wake
Rogation Sunday. Up at 6.30am with the biggest hangover history has ever seen. The combined hangovers of Hereward the Wake, Edward the Confessor, Napoleon, George Bernard Shaw and Mitzi Gaynor only equal half the one I experienced this morning. Water. All I wanted was water. I would have willingly swapped my best girl for a glass of chilled H2o. Dave obliged by rushing to the bathroom and bringing me a cup full. Passed into unconsciousness and slept until about 10.30. Discuss Glenn's disappearance but we decide not to visit his residence just in case he never made it home last night. Good God. Suppose he's fallen into the Manchester Ship Canal?

Mitzi Gaynor.
Dave accidentally locked his bedroom door with the key inside and we spent half an hour trying to break in. Eventually we used a large built gent from the tap room as a battering ram. Dave and I were in the bar by 12.10 and ale was supped until 2pm. joined by Garry and another guy whose name escapes me. At 2 Dave and I take lunch in the private apartments of the Hollywood and we shared a bottle of wine (Chevalier de la Rose Grand vin De Bourgogne. Importers H. Sichel and Sons Ltd, W2). Not too bad.

Glenn called on us with his holiday money (£145) and the three of us went to the pool room for a game. Laugh myself stupid at Dave who clowns around like no one I've ever known. At 7 o'clock it's time to part. Had a word with Jim Glynn and went to the bar and bought Mrs G a drink and said farewell. The lads took me to Manchester at 7.30-ish and I was home by 10.30 with £290 in my pocket. The lads are coming on June 3 and I plan to go back to Stockport on July 9, the day before 'Operation Ibiza'.

Martyn and Tony are at Pine Tops and M gives me a blank cheque for tomorrow's pilgrimage to WH Smith and Sons. Bath and bed at approximately midnight.


Saturday May 14, 1977

Susan wakes me at 8.30 and I leave for Leeds at about 10 o'clock.  Say farewell to Uncle Bert who is injecting some foul smelling liquid into the stub where his poor leg once reclined. Nauseating, eh?

Leave Leeds at 1055 and get into Manchester by 12.15. I walk through Manchester wearing a blue and white striped T-shirt. This may seem to be a normal thing to do, and indeed had I adorned my body with the said T-shirt in Cambridge, Milford Haven and possibly Carnarvon it would have been. Not Manchester, however. The local dominant football team are quite partial to a more crimson hue. Yes, Manchester Utd, of course. I sought refuge in a telephone box to avoid a particularly vicious looking mob. As I crouched 'neath the volumes of yellow pages my thoughts were with Queen Marie Antoinette and how she must have felt as the filthy Parisians dragged her through the streets in a rickety tumbril.

Got to Stockport and met Dave G. He informs me that my troublesome shirt is in the colours of Stockport County FC and gives me a pat on the back and takes me to the Unity for a drink. Six or seven drinks to be exact. Meet a couple of his friends - Steve (who I met last time), Garry and Billy. A sobering stroll round Stockport.  The climax of the afternoon is a coffee in a Wimpy Bar.

The Hollywood Hotel
Back to the Hollywood and meet Mr & Mrs Glynn. See the Muppets on TV. Also see Glenn.

To the Unity with with Dave G, Glenn, Garry, Steve and Billy plus two unnamed females who are lovely little movers, and one of them (Holly) fancies me, I think. Go by taxi to the Poco Club where 'The Brothers' are appearing. (The do "Sing Me" which they had in the charts). We didn't even see them anyway and got pissed in the adjoining disco. Glenn disappeared at 1am after an ice throwing contest with Dave and I as we did our usual formation dance routine. Really a hysterical evening. Dave and I back to the Hollywood at 2.30am by taxi and sleep head to toe (or arse to tit) in Dave's large bed.


Friday May 13, 1977

I have reverted to my faithful old pen. Yes, it is Friday the Thirteenth. Pouring with rain when Mama wakes me at 10 o'clock to say she's been into the office but has returned because she feels unwell. She keeps dashing to the toilet - urine problem. She's wearing a path from her boudoir to the smallest room. (I realise it's probably indelicate to discuss such things here and it's quite abominable of me to record it for posterity, but I haven't much else to say).

Uncle Bert: diarrhoea
Walk into Guiseley with umberella and collect medicine for Motherdear and pay a social call on the Guiseley branch of the West Yorkshire Police force. Also went to the bank for £30 which boosts my holiday money up to £100.

Make lunch for Dad and I and Mum announces that Uncle Bert is coming tonight for the weekend. I don't believe I've seen him since Christmas 1973. Of course he's had a leg off since then and his other one isn't all that good. Oh My God, he's on a dismal decline at only 50.

Dad and I go to Leeds at 6 o'clock and pick up Uncle (Bert) at Quarry Hill flats for some reason. He is unrecognisable. Old isn't the word. I almost die laughing when Dad asks him how he is. "I have had diarrhoea" comes the reply, "and so on Wednesday I decided to take a couple of days off in lieu". No one but me found it funny.

Chris and Pete came at 8.30 and stood on the drive admiring John's new car. I am alarmed that Peter can pretend that Tuesday's conversation never took place. I am extremely cool with him ____________.

Tony and Martyn come and we go to the Bod and the Hare and Hounds at Heaton. Michelle and Co join us. I like Michelle immensely - so sweet and nice. In the Bod I told Pete to 'piss off'._________.

With Tony and Martyn to the Il Travatore. Thoroughly boring.


Thursday May 12, 1977

Met Carole at 7.30 at the White Cross and we got an omnibus to Bradford. The new bus station is like Versailles. All carpeted with piped music, and chandeliers hanging like great foxgloves from the ornate ceilings. In fact it looks as if Bradford City Council have had some help from Rubens or Van Dyck.

Carole is strangely quiet. We laugh at the fact we have to return to Shipley to go on to Bingley and the realisation that the visit to Bradford's 'Hall of Mirrors' could have been avoided is like a blow on the head with a mallet.

In Bingley for 9 o'clock. After a few drinks we walked to Oakwood Hall for 10.15. Peter N was in with his friends again. Carole and I had a good talk about the past year. (Oh shit, the ink is going all the way through the bloody paper for some reason). We decided that we are getting on better this time round. Home in another taxi at 2am. The taxi driver smoked a large cigar and sounded like an Old Etonian. No doubt he's a poor hereditary peer who cannot afford to get down to the House of Lords.

Not seeing Carole until next Thursday. I have thoroughly enjoyed it.


Wednesday May 11, 1977

Don't hear a bloody thing until Mum and Dad come in for lunch at 1.45pm. Sat yawning over a cup of tea and then opened my mail. Two bloody letters. One from Helen Malin which points out I owe her £1 and not vice versa. Oh shit. I said that the royal baby would be born in the spring or summer of '77 and if it arrived any later I would pay up. What a horrific thought. The other is a letter from Kathryn. It is perfection itself and I settle down to reply and before I know where I am it's 4 o'clock and time to go to the dreaded YP.

Diary: red ink works wonders
Charged down the lane and got at bus. At the office for 5. I made enquiries about coaches for Saturday returning Sunday. Peter Mather amazes me __________.

Work was busy and tiresome. Ursula is very nice to work with. I do believe I experienced an erotic dream about her the other night. Of all people. I must be daft or something. How do you like my change of handwriting? Mrs Monkman, who left number 60 yesterday, gave me the pen. I do believe her brother sent it to her from Japan. One would have thought that the Japs would have caught onto the biro by now. I still think this nice red hue works wonders. Blue ink became so depressing.

The taxi driver tonight was no leading authority in any field. If he was he didn't bring it into the conversation.


Tuesday May 10, 1977

A normal May day for a change. Too hot even. Well, not perhaps too hot but we aren't really used to it as yet.

Headlines: the newspapers are convinced that the Prince of Wales is going to marry Princess Marie-Astrid of Luxembourg. She's at Cambridge at the moment studying English, and photographs of her walking through the city carrying a pile of text books are splattered in every national newspaper. Even the wary old Times has afforded Her Royal Highness (or is she a Serene Highness?) a slot on page seven or eight. The furore has been going on for two or three days. The princess is a fifth cousin of the Queen. It is, of course, no obstacle.

Peter: petrol problem
At about 7 I had a phone call from Chris saying he isn't going to Stockport and concluded by saying Pete M will be ringing shortly to 'tell you why he can't go either'. Sure enough Pete phoned and I was utterly dumbfounded and astonished. He accused me of only ever ringing him when I need a lift and concluded by saying I'm a 'cheeky sod'. He also made reference to our previous visit to Stockport and said he was appalled at Martyn and I for not contributing to the petrol. Christ it was five months ago and it's taken all this time to get it off his chest! I would have thought that friendship was worth a bit more than the price of a gallon of petrol but he obviously differs on this point.

Met CB at the Crown at Yeadon at 8.30. June is in with her fiance, and so is Phil Knowles, but he goes when he sees Christine. Dave, Dave, Phil and Phil are also supping, along with Maura and Marian, &c. Got quite pissed and after depositing Christine on the last bus I walked home through Yeadon and over Nunroyd park. In by 12. Mum and Dad get on my bloody nerves.


Monday May 9, 1977

Horrible, hectic, hell of a day. Just Sarah, Eileen and I and it's jut too busy. To make matters worse Dave Bruce insulted me by saying I look three months pregnant. But I'm a man. It's obviously the combination of gallons of lager and jeans with a 30 inch waist.

Carole phoned at 3-ish. Arrange to go out on Thursday. She tells me she phoned Denise this morning and ________. Somehow I don't think outsiders should become involved because no outside aid can be given. They both know how things stand.

I phoned Dave G and said I'd be over on Saturday - just who with I don't know. Rang Chris tonight and he says he'll phone back tomorrow. I don't think he or Pete M want to go, and Martyn has a golf tournament and so I may be going freelance. Sod them anyway.

Tony rang and says he got really pissed yesterday afternoon. ________________.It's like a bloody Greek tragedy. On the subject of Greek tragedies - what about the return of Carole?  Every day I ask the same questions, none of which can be answered satisfactorily. Am I to go to my grave loveless and alone just because I cannot forget a horrible incident a year ago which I was more or less responsible for? I'm not interested in any other female and she seems to feel the same way about me. Should I forget May 1976 forever? Will it be on my conscience until the end of time?


Sunday May 8, 1977

4th after Easter. Cloud and drizzle. Breakfast on kippers. Tony rang ______. I suggested going out and he laughed and said he was just thinking about getting pissed. We went to the Shoulder of Mutton for an hour and discussed all the things we've discussed thousands of time before.

Home for 2.15 and had lunch with all the family - even John, Maria, JPH and Auntie Mabel.

Work from 5pm until midnight. Ursula was her usual cheerful self. Home in a taxi with a comedian of a driver who spent six years in the army in Aden and Edinburgh. He tells of hair curling tales of lesbians in the jungle, suicide squads, severed limbs - the lot. The conversation was heavy with four letter words beginning with F and ending in K, with a U and a C in the middle. Salt of the earth, some of these taxi drivers.


Saturday May 7, 1977

Eggs and bacon with Mum, Dad, Sue, and Auntie Mabel. I was up early at 8.30 sitting on the couch with the radio until I heard movement in the kitchen.Invariably the first poor soul to be heard messing around in the kitchen is bombarded with orders for tea and other light refreshment. Dad was the victim this morning.

with JPH
To Morrison's in the rain at 12 o'clock or so. Lynn and I took Auntie Mabel round 'Life Style' - the new wing of the supermarket which sells everything from Royal Doulton china to contraceptives.

Back to Silverdale Drive and play with the baby until 3. Maria is thinner. She's down to 9st now. JPH is passed round the assembled multitude until he's insensible, and after we've made him sick we evacuate the area and return to Pinetops for the R.L. Cup final.

Sue, Pete, Mum, Dad and Auntie Mabel go to the Birch Tree at Wilsill for a meal in the evening and Lynn and I are just settling down to have tea when we have a surprise visit indeed. It's Messers Ratcliffe and Mather. ______. We sat talking until Tony and Martyn arrived at 9 o'clock. To the Hare and Hounds at Heaton and the Bod again. Women piled eight feet deep. Sue from WH Smiths and her mate fromthe travel department are in the Bod. Sue is a terrible flirt. _____. Tony especially was on top form. Home at the usual hour. Tony borrowed my razor.


Friday May 6, 1977

No Carole tonight. Went into the Hare and Hounds at 8.30 with Tony.  CB comes in. She gave me a new copy of the 'Monty Python' book we bought in Sheffield two years ago. She tipped her cider all over the juke box in the hilarity of the occasion. Judith was very quiet.

CB: positively violent
With Sue, Peter N,  Martyn, Tony, CB to the Bod in Bradford. It's packed at Christine becomes positively violent about the place. Tony and Martyn met the two young ladies from Halifax and chat with them, but after a solitary drink Sue, Pete, CB and I return to the Hare & Hounds. The barman says, at 10.50, that I'm too late to buy a drink and the infernal manager seeks permission from Nigel Smith and his mafia-like cronies before I'm served.

I'm bloody speechless and vow never to go into the pub again. CB laughs and says she has also made such a vow before but she has always returned in the end and says it's obvious that next weekend I'll be back too. Not if I have my way I won't. Besides, staying away from the Hare will fit in with my plans, which are a) I'm tiring of J_____and it makes my presence in the Hare uncomfortable, and b). if Carole is back on the scene I don't want to go in the Hare with her, and c). it's a fucking tip anyway. Can't say tonight was enjoyable at all really.

Back home at 11.15. Auntie Mabel, Mum and Dad come back at 2am from cousin Dorothy's (White Horse). I sleep in the lounge because Auntie M claims my bedroom. She is staying until Sunday.


Thursday May 5, 1977

Out with Tony and Carole to the Hare & Hounds at Heaton, Bradford at 8.30. Carole looked divine. All heads turned when she entered the pub and people couldn't help staring at her. I think Tony felt like he was being neglected somewhat and so at 9 he phoned Sue (from WH Smith's) to see if she fancied a night out at Oakwood Hall. He arranged to pick her up at 10.40.

With Carole: she looked divine
I soon began to feel intoxicated. I don't know whether it was the drink or Carole, but I certainly felt something. Her eyes. Her face. Quite incredible they are. Collected Sue and went off to Oakwood. The girls took an immediate dislike to one another. Bitchiness in the extreme, I'm afraid to say. It must have been Sue who started it because Carole couldn't be bitchy if she tried. She is far too naive and sweet.

Saw Peter N with a couple of his friends at the disco and he was pleased to see Carole and I together. We danced and had a couple of drinks. I even had orange juice. We both forgot we'd ever been apart in the first place and we laughed and joked just like old times. For God's sake, I hope I'm doing the right thing meeting Carole like this. Am I leading her on at all? It didn't feel wrong and nothing but sheer enjoyment came from it. It wouldn't go down well at home if we got back together, but the attitude of my parents at the moment is abominable anyway and to be quite honest I'm not taking any more Dictatorship. One would think I was twelve years old.

Tony seemed to think Sue wasn't on form. Oh, by the way. Linda rang and finished with him tonight.


Wednesday May 4, 1977

A nice morning for a change. The birds actually lowered themselves to give us a tune and the rain managed to hold off until I was safely encased in the Jim-mobile. No Sarah today. Auntie Delia informed me that the poor girl is suffering from dizzy spells and such like. I like Auntie tremendously and we are still promising one another tea or an evening meal but she is always bogged down with (flower arranging) classes.

YP was dead. Worked through lunch and went home at my usual time - 4.30. Horrible meal this evening. Mother is still behaving positively rude and childishly, which encourages me to a certain extent. Her attitude won't get her anywhere at all.

Queen: speech to the Lords & Commons
On the 6 o'clock news saw the Queen and the Royal Family in Westminster Hall receiving the thanks of the Lords and Commons for 25 dedicated years, &c. HM made a controversial statement about devolution saying she had been crowned Queen of England, Scotland and Northern Ireland and intended remaining so. The Scottish Nationalists are aggravated by it but I think it was a tremendous thing for her to say it. At least one person in the land wants to keep the United Kingdom intact.

To be quite honest I'm getting cheesed off with the complete lack of patriotism at the moment. Dear mother is a leading advocate and her attitude about a Silver Jubilee party astounds me. How she had the bloody nerve to pay me £2.50 for her share in Robert Lacey's 'Majesty' God only knows! About as patriotic as Willie Hamilton's left buttock she is. I could become quite violent on the subject if I tried hard enough. I expect that all the flag waving and cheering will take place on June 7 and then everyone will forget about it. It's about time the Queen used her influence to rally nationalism.

Out with Judith to the Hare and back to her place until almost 3am.Discuss purchasing the Sun. How much would it take to make a box for it?


Tuesday May 3, 1977

Carole: unfortunate maiden
A horrible day. Last night when I set out on my historic venture I joked with Mama on the subject of with whom I was spending the evening. She wanted to know the identity of the unfortunate maiden and joked about following me down the lane. Nothing nasty was said and all seemed quite normal until tea time today. I am much afraid to say she launched an extraordinary attack on the 'mysterious young lady'. "Well, Michael, if you can't tell me who you were with last night all I can say is she must be a right little tart". I was angered and horrified and this gave me the push to clam up altogether and I said that under no circumstances would I ever tell her. Mama carried on in her usual way - or perhaps I should say the way she behaves when she's infuriated. Later tonight she told me that the Silver Jubilee party is cancelled. A statement made in anger and I fully intend to ignore it. (I'm 'intending to ignore' quite a few things today, aren't I?)

Silver Jubilees only happen once or twice in a lifetime and no one is going to prevent me celebrating in the appropriate way.

Watched TV and thought about last night. Am I as mixed up and confused as Carole? Do I require a sharp blow on the head? Somehow I think so. Do you know that nothing would have stood in the way of us getting back together if it hadn't have been for the foolish, tragic thing she did?

Since yesterday I haven't worried about where £80 of my holiday money is coming from or what I'm going to be wearing on my feet this time next week. What can it be? No doubt you've heard it all before - especially in these miserable, confused pages. The hateful way opinions can change in a matter of a few weeks I am beginning to shame over. Just twelve or thirteen weeks ago I was closeted at Thornton-le-Dale with Miss Mather abusing the very name of the girl on whom my mind now is permanently affixed.


Monday May 2, 1977

Bank Holiday in Scotland. Had a telephone call this morning from Miss Carole Phillips who demanded, nay commanded me to take her out for a drink this evening. She said that a year ago - to the very day - I had promised to go out with her whenever she wished. Just a social, friendly ale or two - not 'going out' in the context which you may be thinking. She was at Maria's and at first I said I'd go down to tea and then ten minutes later I phoned back to say I'd be at Ridgeway to collect her at 7.30. I arrived a few minutes late with a bag of vegetables for John's pets with very mixed feelings about this whole escapade. Blimey, isn't she supposed to be engaged to Peter Fogarty? She looks very attractive and ravishing. I am reminded about what Jimmy (Macdonald) and I were discussing on New Year's Day after my thirtieth gin and tonic.

Shoulder of Mutton
We had no idea where to go. I suggested Otley, but we finally decided on the Shoulder of Mutton on Hollins Hill. It is out of the way and we are free from being recognised. We caught a bus and laughed and chatted as though no break had ever taken place. In the pub I put to her the question of her so-called engagement because she was wearing no ring, and I was immediately answered. They bought a ring on Saturday and by the following afternoon Fogarty had decided he had no desire to settle down and called off the whole charade. She told me it had been Fogarty who had pushed for it and wanted to be serious. She had done nothing but cry for three or four days and it had been Maria who had suggested ringing me, as a last resort.

You must be aware that Carole and I are in no way forming an alliance of the nature of which I terminated one year ago - it was just a very friendly 'good deed'. We discussed old times and became quite rowdy. I told her: "Carole, you certainly know how to pick 'em." Then paused because I realised she'd picked me. I felt slightly sick after only three drinks and we walked outside and up Hollins Hill and back to the Macdonald residence. When people had told me how much Carole had matured and 'grown up' I didn't ever answer. I wanted to reach a decision myself. I do not think she has matured one bit since last May. Very sweet, but still the dotty, mixed up kid. I said I was sorry for what I had done to her and she said she didn't hold me responsible. She did say I had ignored her on many occasions, whilst I have always accused her of ignoring me. Funny, isn't it? Went back for a coffee and we parted at 11.30. Left very friendly and said 'let's do it again, sometime?' She said she wanted to be my friend and said it was about time she pulled herself together. It was so nice just to talk to her.

Sunday May 1, 1977

3rd after Easter. Wet day. Not going to say much because it was such a normal, uninteresting day. The Silver Jubilee is looming. The poor Queen is going to be exhausted by autumn. Bless the Old Girl.

Naomi: dragged me in
Saw part of the 'Edward VII' series on tv and then Mama gave me a lift into Guiseley in torrential rain. I was stood at the bus stop for ten minutes when Naomi drove up, threw open her car door and dragged me inside. Very hospitable of her. Miss K. Moorhouse was a fellow passenger. They were on their way to Denise's for dinner. Eventually got a bus at Rawdon at 5.20pm. Work was up to it's usual mundaneness. Can anything be 'up to it's usual mundaneness?' or have I invented the word?

Taxi home at midnight. My driver was a silent one this time. Not a reptile expert or connoisseur of Rococo architecture as they usually are. The journey home was one of inward thought and general reflection. Poured with rain all the way.

Ate boiled eggs and sat looking at one of the lower class Sunday papers. Queen Victoria awaited my attention in my boudoir but my eyes ached and I had no intention of taking her up tonight.

Isn't it remarkable how some days I fill a page with minute, incredibly tiny handwriting and on other more lazy occasions I can scribe away like something not dissimilar to a moron?

King George V had silly handwriting, you know.


Saturday April 30, 1977

Mama and the whole household are spring cleaning this morning and so I dress and escape with a pile of library books and Miss Rushworth's umberella in the direction of Guiseley. Called at Bedside Manor and handed over the stolen umberella to Bill Rushworth. He's a real weirdo. Grumpy and positively frightening. However, Mrs R. is extremely pleasant. Judith climbed out of bed and joined me in her lounge. She looked ghastly without the help of cosmetics and complained of a headache. I left after 10 minutes.

To the library and got a further volume of Queen Victoria's correspondence with her eldest daughter (1871-78).

Had a record session all afternoon.Only Susan & Peter N are at home for me to annoy. Tony rang to say he wouldn't be at the Hare tonight because Linda doesn't like the idea. _________. I quite fancy Linda myself.

Martyn and Ruth, who are also a doomed relationship, are joining me at the Hare. Went down with Sue and Pete at 8.30. CB left shortly afterwards with a familiar, unnamed face, and Miss Dibb and fiance came in too. Chatted with Judith and Dave (working in the bar) and got along famously. The new manager seems like a decent enough bloke and when Lynn and Dave came in L approached him and got a bar job for Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday evening. Lynn actually behind the bar! David Andrew is far from happy with the idea. How snobby and petty can you get? The whole situation would be different if Mum and Dad had bought a free house pub. Oh yes, you're allowed to work in a bar if you own the bloody place, but being a common serving wench is a different bloody matter.

Peter and I went to the Chinese takeaway on Otley Rd and got some for Sue too. Played my BBC 50th anniversary LP which Peter hasn't heard before. Bed at 2am. Dad came in ten minutes later stoned out of his mind. They'd been to Flashman's with Charlie and Betty Davidson.


Friday April 29, 1977

CB, on the phone, wakes me at 10.45. The beautiful thing wants to know if I fancy a session at the Black Bull this afternoon but I tell her about the Official Receiver and how he simply wouldn't like me to go. We compromised and said we'd go see Maria and JPH instead.

Played the record player full belt and took a bath and before I knew it it was lunchtime. Cheese on toast with Mama and Papa. Went down to Maria's with great, gaping holes in my shoes. Like a bloody tramp.

Christine: the beautiful thing
Christine came after ten minutes and we gossipped. Yes, no other expression can be given to what we were doing. Not one of our acquaintances escaped the vile insinuations of three idle, coffee swilling peasants upon this dark, unholy afternoon. I saw a look on CB's divine face as I bounced JPH upon my knee, a look I've never seen her show before. I cannot describe it but it spoke a million words.

Paddy Braithwaite brought me home at 5.30. Christine is incredible. I will always feel exactly the same way about her but I do realise nothing will ever come if it and any deeper relationship would only lead to disaster.

Compelled this evening to go out with my peep-toed shoes and felt guilty about it until Martyn showed me the soles (or lack of them) on his feeble footwear.

Tony and I had a quick one in the Hare and collected Martyn and went to the Bod again. Packed out it was and with a profusion of our colonial friends and relations. Met a couple of ladies - one from Halifax. Peter M, Chris and Steve Hudson came in. They're taking Lynne to Manchester tomorrow because she's flying to Ibiza. Denise is going too and they're making a night of it. Peter says he's not _____________.Why? On the way back from Halifax (after taking Mary home) I told Tony that Peter told me last year that the only reason why he (Tony) associates with me is because I am a friend of Denise and he wants to be near her. We laughed. Tony sees Denise sometimes a couple of times a week. I haven't seen her more than a handful of times since last summer.


Thursday April 28, 1977

Hangover. Rain all morning. Sunshine all afternoon. Soddin' April. Got a £10 postal order for Mr Barclaycard as a contribution to my holiday. God, I only have £50 and I need another £90 in just two weeks time! I'm ruined. Completely and utterly ruined.

Mama and JPH
John, Maria and JPH came for tea and afterwards they left the little treasure with his grandmama whilst they went off to see George Waite about an MGB GT they're thinking of purchasing.

I've a good mind to go and get married because financially things can only improve. Baby watched 'Top of the Pops' and stayed up until 10 o'clock and only grumbled slightly towards the end when his mother came and collected him. JPH is much more attentive now and he played a few games with his grandpapa - throwing his toys on the floor for the old man to pick up seemed to be the main theme.

Saw the second programme in the 'Royal Heritage' tv series. Prince Philip was showing us one of Henry VIII's weapons in the Tower of London and the Prince of Wales was all at sea on HMS Bonington going into detail about the Spanish Armada and Drake and all that lot. Very interesting.

Rang Tony at 7 but he's in Worksop having tea with John Cameron's bit of stuff - the name of whom escapes me. Rang back at 9 and arranged to meet tomorrow. He told me a sad tale indeed of Carole and Peter Fogarty at Denise's last Sunday. Tears, swear words and throwing of engagement rings. Yet they are still engaged. Spoke to Martyn too and told him about Stockport. He may have some golf planned for May 14 but he said he'd do his utmost to keep the day clear.

Don't remember what time I went to bed but it was quite early because I wanted to avoid the by-election crap on the BBC.

Wednesday April 27, 1977

Am I becoming boring again? Do let me know if I am. A lovely day with the birds singing up above, and all that.

Sarah is in high spirits and we laugh just like in old times. Everyone's become far too serious lately. O for the joys of Spring!

Rang Judith at 6. She was in the bath but her mother acted as a messenger girl and I'm told she can go out tonight but not tomorrow. I have no money but Mama - bless her - has promised to lend me a couple of quid until I come into my fortune.

John and Dad are under the car again. I will nominate both of them to His Holiness for canonization. St Lawrence, patron saint of Old Bangers, &c.

Princess Caroline
To get to the important things: The Queen and Queen Mother are visiting Baron and Baroness Philippe de Rothschild in France and the Prince of Wales and Duke of Edinburgh are on their way via Nice to Monaco. Is it wedding bells for Prince Charles and Princess Caroline? I bet the Mail and Express will be hinting at this in the morning. Sarah makes me laugh. She says Princess Caroline is "lacking in virtue".

Dave from Stockport rings at 7.30 to see when we're going over to collect his £142. May 7 or May 14 seem to be possible dates. I've only got about £50 saved up. Aaarrghh!

Met Judith at the Hare and Hounds at 9 o'clock - she is of course with Kathryn (who is very nice) but I would like to see Judith alone occasionally. Stay until about 11 and feel a bit pissed, as indeed I always do when I'm with Judith. Kathryn takes us back to her chambers at Highroyds (the asylum) where we drink wine and mess about with her typewriter. Back to Judith's for fried egg and rissole sandwiches until 2am. Home very tired and with a heavy head. Kathryn driving, of course.