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Wednesday August 3, 1977

Dave Glynn's 23rd birthday. I must give him a buzz to organise the holiday reunion party. We can't lose contact with dear John, Steve and Noel. Stayed in bed until after 9 o'clock. After all, I didn't get in until 5.30. I cannot be expected to have a mere two hours sleep and then roll into the office. I phoned Sarah to break the news of my absence and she was quite chirpy and nice. "I hope you'll soon be better" she chirped.

Lady Sarah Spencer: no beauty.
Frank Perfect, the husband of the sweet, little old lady from Westgate, Tranmere Park, who befriended me in my newspaper delivery days, is dead. I haven't seen either of them for two or three years, but they took a real shine to me and always made me feel welcome. He was only 62. He was the general factory manager of J.I. Case Co Ltd, manufacturers of construction equipment, and in charge of their Leeds plant since 1964. Perhaps I should send Mrs P a letter or something.

The Prince of Wales Romance Stakes are opening again. We now have three candidates in the running (according to the beloved Press). They are: Davina Sheffield, Princess Marie-Astrid and the Lady Elizabeth Sarah Lavinia Spencer. Lady Sarah is a daughter of the 8th Earl Spencer and is step-daughter of Raine, Countess Spencer, who was previously Lady Dartmouth. Her ancestors include at least three dukes, Marlborough, Abercorn and Bedford, and the Earls of Lucan crop up once or twice in her lineage. However, she is no beauty. After the gorgeous Davina Sheffield I'm afraid it's all down hill as far as I'm concerned. I just don't know what HRH must be thinking. A big, stately home in Kent standing empty (Chevening), just waiting for the feminine touch of some willowy princess, but he's making no attempt to provide the nation with one. The Duke of Edinburgh once made a speech about 'pulling the finger out', well I think he should get onto his eldest son.

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Tuesday August 2, 1977

Mum and Dad went to Pamela Nason's 21st (birthday party) with Susan and Peter and I sat at home, quite alone, watching the television. Had a bath at 9 and seriously thought of retiring to bed afterwards, but no. Dave B came up at 10 and dragged me off to the Hare to have a drink with John. I dressed like a madman and we sped down to Menston.

Judith.
John looked pale. He left at about 10.45. Judith was in - looking slender with her hair all curls. Lynn was working, and when the pub was cleared Tim (the manager) bought us a drink. Lynn and David brought Judith, Kathryn and I home for home-brewed beer. We all became a little intoxicated, and when Mum and Dad came in at 2am they said the Nason party was still underway at the Nason residence. An old glint came in my eye and Judith, very like-minded, realised immediately what the outcome would be. 'Let's go down for a few', says I. Lynn escaped to bed. David went home and Kathryn exclaimed: 'it's out of the question'. So just Judith and I went down to Filedhead Road until 5am. ___________. Judith and I sat on the floor drinking gin and tonic and a bottle of Dad's home brew. We didn't say much. Just watched the others. It can be really entertaining at a party wondering just who is related to the woman in the lurex blouse, &c.


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Monday August 1, 1977

Bank Holiday in Scotland and Irish Republic. Went to the Leeds Greyhound Stadium tonight with David L, MM and Marita. We didn't do too bad and after a couple of hours good fun we left with virtually the same amount of money that we started with. Nice to be out with David again. __________.

To the dogs ..
Following our moderate success at the dogs we went and spent our winnings in some distant, nameless ale-house. Ate pork pies and mushy peas by the plateful. Hardly the sort of nourishment for weight-watchers eh? Home at approx. eleven.

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Sunday July 31, 1977

Delia Collis.
8th after Trinity. Luncheon party at Sarah's. I went at about 1 o'clock. A hot afternoon with wine, and plenty of it. Delia's food was wonderful as usual. Haddock flan, pizza pie, salmon mousse, cheesecake, &c. Delia is a marvellous woman. She knows I'm a good friend to Sarah. She says we have so much in common. I have always thought so. Sarah must think the same. Saw the new shih tzu dog, Sophie. Delia had wanted to call it Daisy May.

Went for a dip in Richard's swimming pool next door and John MacMurray ferried me to the YP at 5. Coming home the taxi was late. Didn't get in until nearly 1am.

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Saturday July 30, 1977

Tony, Lynn and me went shopping to Bradford this afternoon. She bought a sexy nightie to take on holiday next week. Tony picked it for her of course. It's a flimsy, sideless, frontless object that I'm sure would make even the plainest female look like Dana Gillespie.

The lovely Dana Gillespie.
'I remember Yesterday'
Ate mussels from the fish market and fish and chips too. Went to Smith's and bought the Donna Summer LP 'I Remember Yesterday' on some sort of Smith's account where you don't actually pay for it.

Tony left at about 5 after having a coffee at our place. He phoned at 6. He is constantly being sick and his head is terrible. He goes off to ring the doctor and rang back at 7 and said 'you're too late for visiting time'. Eh? Yep, he's in Ilkley Hospital. It could be his appendix, or something completely different. Poor old Tony.

Sue and Pete and I went to Martyn's at 8.30 and on to the newly done-up Cow & Calf pub which isn't all that good. I'm in no mood for drinking tonight. On to the Rose and Crown where we broke the news of Tony's illness to Linda. She was quite taken aback and went into a bit of a flap.

At 10.30, even before closing time, we went back to the Cole residence to see two horrific films. Perhaps I should have said horror films, but that is just what they were not. Horrific is more apt. I fell asleep in the armchair much to amusement of the others.

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Friday July 29, 1977

Went to Harrogate with Tony and Martyn. At the Harrogate Arms we were joined by Dave L, Peter M and Chris, Denise, Naomi and Yvonne, and several of the Lords and gentlemen in waiting. A hot sweaty atmosphere and my lager tasted like tonic water. I have actually lost my sense of taste since Ibiza.
Dave L: disgusted.

Chris says he'll call up with the holiday photographs in the week. _______. Dave L is disgusted at my not going to Gloucester despite all the invitations. Tony seemed fine with Denise. Martyn was smoking. Does he still imagine he's on holiday? Let's hope to God he isn't becoming addicted.

They talked of going to the horrible Il Trovatore. Sorry and all that but I just couldn't face an English discotheque with the scent of Playboy One lingering on my nostrils. They brought me home and I watched the film 'Georgie Girl' on the BBC.






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Thursday July 28, 1977

Took the knackered camera back to Boots at lunchtime. Got back to the office at 1.20 and Eileen informed me that Jacqui had phoned just after I'd left and could I ring her back? Oh Christ I've lost her phone number. I can tell you that she resides at 102 Grosvenor Road, Muswell Hill, but as to her phone number, no. However, at 3.30 she rang back to see how I am and to to ask whether I made it home safely.

Jacqui.
Miss Phillips phoned at 4 o'clock. "Are you nice and brown?" she asked. She is going to Newquay tomorrow for two weeks. _______.

Called in at Guiseley Police station to get a lift home. Standing outside reading my copy of 'The Times' I espy Martyn. He tells me he's been to Manchester to get a job as an encyclopedia salesman. Evidently, after ten weeks he'll be able to go sell his wares in the Bahamas with  phenomenal salary, and no doubt on his private jet. Dad laughed when I told him. He said he's rather sweep the roads. Martyn had bumped into Maria in the chemists shop.

Tony phoned tonight but I said I wasn't going out. He fancied a pint at the Rose & Crown. I just couldn't stand the pace. Watched tv all night instead.

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Wednesday July 27, 1977

Dandy Nichols: transported.
Tired and shattered after the holiday. Sat in the lounge all night and never moved from the armchair. Occasionally I fell to sleep but for most of the time I am attentive and watchful. People like me won two world wars, you know. Newscaster Richard Baker may well have thought, while drooling over the nine o'clock news, that Michael Rhodes was in a deep sleep, but Mr Baker would have been very wrong. Michael Rhodes, whilst admitting to closing his eyes and letting out a snore here and there, was in fact soaking all the days news into his brain. From underneath a crumpled newspaper he distinctly heard the venerable Mr Baker informing the nation of the government's intention to abolish the House of Lords, re-unify Ireland, declare war on the USSR, and have Dandy Nichols transported to Australia.

Mama, bless her little heart, informed us today that from a week on Friday she is joining the ranks of the unemployed. She wants a few months holiday, tranquillity and peace.

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Tuesday July 26, 1977

Maria's 19th birthday. Mum saw John today and he said he's taking her out for dinner to celebrate.

Monday July 25, 1977

Woke up feeling really terrible. Shaking like a leaf too. Had a large, greasy breakfast with Susan. With Sue and Pete to the Commercial at lunchtime but after one drink I'm decidedly worse. My hands were shaking too.

Sue & Pete.
Food doesn't seem to do any good either. We took fish and chips home and I played around with mine pushing it round the plate. Just no appetite.  Mum and Dad joined us at 1.30. Martyn joined us at 3 and stayed until 10.30. Watched a good film starring Albert Finney and Audrey Hepburn. Go to bed dog tired.









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Sunday July 24, 1977

7th after Trinity. Up at about ten to pack. Martyn is nowhere to be seen. A search of the hotel finds him with a bird from Otley in her room. Our room is in a diabolical condition. A red wine stain three feet high runs round the bottom of the bedroom walls. Booze and broken bottles all over the floor.

Slumbering at the airport
I loathe going home. Left for the airport at 12 noon and had hysterics on the coach with Kathyn. At Ibiza Airport we are told to prepare for an indefinite delay due to some sort of mechanical problem on board our aircraft. Allcock & Brown made their historic flight in this self same bone-shaker.

I got blind drunk. Disgustingly so. I stole a bottle of gin from the airport bar and drank most of it myself. Needless to say I vomited. My recollections of the journey home are somewhat vague other than drinking a couple of whiskies and, according to Peter Mather, fondling the air hostess.

Tony picked us up at Manchester and brought me home at about 1am. Still intoxicated.



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Saturday July 23, 1977

Our last full day. We spent the whole time on the beach to reap the benefit of our last touch of Spanish sun. Even at 5.30 when very few remained I clung to my hammock. Jacqui was with us all day.

By 6pm I was in San Antonio buying bottles of drink for Mama and a straw handbag for Darling Sue's birthday.

Group at the Hotel Pacific.
Back at the hotel having a quiet ale by the pool I was approached by a gorgeous dolly bird who wanted to know if I fancied accompanying her on an open jeep tour of San Antonio. Naturally, I was late back for dinner.

Our last wild night. To the Pavement Bar and met Jacqui and Joy. Noel and I walked them to the Hotel March and bid them a fond farewell, probably forever. The coach taking them to Ibiza Airport disappeared in a cloud of dust, and Noel and I returned to the Pavement Bar.

Had a party in my room which was riotous.Wine women and song galore. What must the other residents of the hotel have thought? It must have been about 4am when I got rid of everyone.

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Friday July 22, 1977

Felt beastly today over my behaviour last night. However, if one can't get pissed up and fall about kicking the hell out of people on holiday when indeed can one?

L to R: Chris, Martyn, Noel, Mig, John and Steve.
Oh God the time is running out fast. Two weeks gone just like that. The real painful thought is that it's probably the last wild fling until Christmas.

Oops. I haven't mentioned the change of ink, have I?

Out on the town tonight with Noel again. Met Jacqui and Joy.  Went to the Continental restaurant and bid farewell to a couple of lads from Brighton, Glen and Mick, and then on to Chac Mool and Playboy.

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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 ...