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Friday February 3, 1978

Out of bed at the crack of dawn and head for the deep south. It was a freezing cold day and I couldn't be bothered to get out of the coach at Leicester and instead I endured the boring conversation of a guy who went to school with one of the Gordon Giltrap Band. Big bloody deal. Arrived at Victoria at 1:00 and met Jacqui. She has a shorter hair cut.

We had a few drinks in Victoria and then went to St Catherine's House. A ghastly task. Seven million John Wilsons were born  in the Yorkshire area in March, 1853. A daunting experience, and after an hour I was thoroughly defeated. It must be bliss to have a surname like Jacq's. Discovered very little but found that a John Wilson had married a Bella Fawbert in the North Bierley area in 1874. Her death in March, 1926 says she's Rella.

We went on to the flat where I demolished half a loaf with ease. Chrissy was in but Jan was at the doctors. The poor thing picked up Red flu in Austria last week.

At 7:30 Jacq's Mum's, Trixie, and brother, Peter, came round and we went for a drink to a pub called the John Baird. Trixie knocks back pints like no tomorrow. However, she's remarkably flash and 'Vogue-like' with Christian Dior shoes and posh hair. Pete has grown a beard. Trixie jokes and says he's quiet because he's in love with a bird called Alice. Poor bugger.

From the (John) Baird we went to a Greek restaurant and noshed our heads off - all at Trixie's expense. Pete went off to work at 10 and the three of us went to the Clissold until closing time.

Jacq passed her driving test yesterday - her 23rd birthday - and she drove us back to the flat in Trixie's mini which is to be exchanged tomorrow for a Fiat X19, whatever that may be.


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