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Monday January 30, 1978

Jacqui phoned to make certain I am visiting her next weekend. Of course I am. I rang Dave G to let him know that the holiday is booked and he gave a sigh of relief. It was all worrying. No doubt the Rt Hon Merlyn Rees, MP, worries in this fashion every morning. One day it's the fire brigade, and the next day it's the police.

I phoned CB. She and Philip H patched things up on Sunday. God, she was pissed!

Coming home from town I bumped into Naomi (not exactly 'bumped' because she was at the steering wheel of a vehicle whilst I was on foot). She told me that Carole was in tears on Saturday afternoon and that they both (she and Fogarty) telephoned apologising for their silly behaviour. I hadn't been aware of all this. Naomi saw Carole this afternoon, who said that Peter F is an ass. My apologies to Carole are now very necessary. I ruined her afternoon, but at the same time I'm resentful of Fogarty's attitude. He should not be allowed to get away with it.

Laughed with Naomi about the marvellous food and the visit to the Wharfedale Gate. She's had everyone moaning about the choice of pub, and demanding explanations as to why we had to endure Saturday night therein. Yes, that was my fault.

Tonight. Read the Lord Peter Wimsey book and actually finished it. Can't say I'm all that impressed by Miss Sayers. I have read quite a few of her books and each one has left me cold. Rather boring, long-winded and lacking in that 'hold' which novels of this type should inflict. Dame Agatha (Christie) does it to well.


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