Friday February 23, 1979

_. Warm & sunshine. A spring-like day with the birds clucking overhead and the daffs forcing themselves up from 'neath the leaden earth. I think our esteemed prime minister has done a deal with the lads at the World Meteorological Conference to arrange this, and if the weathermen at the BBC suddenly have a wage rise of 60 per cent we'll all know what's happened.

At lunchtime I met Sarah and Delia at Len's Bar. Delia was moaning about the head of the Leeds museums, who refuses to let her decorate the museum at Kirkstall with garlands of flowers, inside and out. She's already been refused permission to drape garlands over the famous Leeds lions at the Town Hall and is mortally wounded by the general apathy and dreary attitude of those employed in local government. It would appear that Harewood House is Delia's only retreat, and venue for her floral displays, but she hated her last encounter with the Countess [of Harewood] .

Delia discussed Jo T_____, the previous flower chairman,  saying she is undoubtedly 'perverted' and between sips of bitter lemon, adds that the woman is 'slightly lesbian'. Sarah spluttered lager everywhere. Or was it cider?

Delia says I ought to be a scriptwriter. __________.

Back to the YP at 2:30 totally cheesed off with my financial situation. Looking around the office I don't care what I do in future just as long as I can escape the clutches of the Yorkshire Post.  I do so miss 'The Times' - since that paper collapsed I long for the feel of that delicate, exquisite paper between my fingers. Alas, no more.

Sat tonight over whisky with Mum & Dad. We discussed the question of wages and what different workers deserve. Are ambulance men really necessary?  If Field Marshals were to withdraw labour would anybody notice? This dragged on for hours.

Saw Peter Sellers in a late night movie which was hilarious. The man is undoubtedly a genius. Bed at 2am.

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Friday September 16, 1977

Mixed with the posh people this evening at Harewood House. Sarah and I went straight to Horsforth from the YP and at 6.30 we went with Mrs Cinzano to Harewood where we met Delia. She is in a temper and informs us that his miserable lordship will not be attending the function due to the death of Maria Callas, a connection which I fail to see. Blimey, I went in to the office on August 17 even though Elvis Presley had passed on.

Countess of Harewood.

For a start we got on the wrong side of the Countess of Harewood. Whilst she was showing Brigadier Hargreaves the music room, Delia and a band of renegades including Sarah and I, raided the dining room and made a start on the wondrous chicken buffet. Lady H entered the room ten minutes after us expecting to be served first and almost fell over us in the doorway. Delia and Brian Halliday had even flopped down on the Chippendale sofa and were joking about Carol J ____________. Lady Harewood gave us dirty looks for the remainder of the evening but we didn't care. We laughed and I dared Delia to approach Her Ladyship and call her 'Marion', who was of course George's first spouse. Lady H is a snobby, ridiculously coiffured Aussie who was previously married to a Schmidt, and posed for Australian TV commercials in the 1940s, I believe. She made a very bad impression altogether and only spoke to the Hargreaves contingent and his feeble Lane Fox of a wife, who looked positively sick.

The food was good and we put away gallons of white wine. Delia and I wandered out in search of the conveniences and we ended up having hysterics over the Epstein statue of Adam - truly grotesque. My God, the things Delia was doing with his penis, and a stone one too, were mind boggling.

We left for a pub at Wetherby at 9.30 as the Harewood butler stood at the entrance of the house yelling for 'Mrs Collis'. The summons from the countess had come too bloody late. "If she'd wanted to speak to me she could have do so hours ago", screeched Delia.

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Sunday April 6, 1975

Low Sunday. Up at 10.30 - my throat crying out for liquid refreshment. Dave B is doing the housework downstairs, and Neil is sat in the lounge with an extra large grin on his face. For ten or fifteen minutes I sit incapable clad in John's dressing gown clutching a glass of God sent orange juice. Dave took a few photos of me, and then I disappeared into the bathroom to prepare for the arrival of Mr Lawson.

Dave comes at 11.15 and we drive to Pannal near Harrogate in heavy rain. Meet Taff, a friend of Dave's from Worcester College of Education, along with his girlfriend and a snobby cousin. The snobby cousin was accompanied by his even snobbier girlfriend, Dorothy. We went to the Travellers' Rest where we had some truly obnoxious lager, and then move on to the Scott's Arms at good old Sicklinghall. Dave I kept getting lost on the country roads, and we finished up supping rum and oranges until 2pm. Driving home we pass Harewood House, and I persuaded Dave to come look round. He thought the gardens were fantastic, and I was surprised when he took an interest in the interior of the stately pile. Haven't been to Harewood for about six years, so I'd forgotten what most of it was like inside. Dave enjoyed ths story about Lord Harewood and Miss Patricia Tuckwell. Went into Harewood Church in the hope of getting a glance of the last resting place of the late Princess Royal, but don't see anything. Once again, I feel as though I'm well on the way to puncturing my bladder, and my exit from the little church can hardly be described as dignified.

Home at 5. Fish and chips with John, Lynn and Dave. See tv all night. 'Bedazzled' starring Peter Cooke and Dudley Moore was fabulous. Laughed myself into a semi-coma, or just about anyway.

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Monday February 11, 1974

Go by bus to the YP for a change and see Lynn Dawson, a cousin of Christine White, who I haven't seen since the summer of '71. I accompanied Miss Dawson in the drizzle to her occupational emporium, namely the Yorkshire Bank. By 8.45 I am at the YP.

Those two vile beasts of corruption John Poulson and William Pottinger were sentenced to 5 years imprisonment at Leeds today. It's a just reward for the creator of Leeds Olympic Swimming Pool I must say. Anyway, it makes a change from the usual OBEs and KCVOs. To be honest, I think the new Leeds baths is one of the most hideous monstrosities to be erected since Centre Point, and for that alone the judge should have doubled his trifling sentence. Poor Poulson wept in the dock - no doubt he'll not come out of jail alive. Poor sod.

The tv tonight was full of election news. Both major parties have now published manifestos and the usual bitter attacks upon each other have begun. Mr Heath seems very confident, but the opinion polls don't give him a massive lead. I cannot understand why Jeremy Thorpe doesn't receive the acclaim and popularity he so rightly deserves - and I seriously think that we ought to give him a chance in government. It would be nice to see Marion Harewood in No. 10. Even Mary Wilson will make a change from the boring bachelor escapades which have hung over Downing Street since 1970. A lot of popularity could easily have been created by the PM if he had married after the last election. His evident leaning towards male company cannot help raising certain doubts in my mind.

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Wednesday October 31, 1973

The Earl and Countess of Harewood have not been invited to the wedding of Princess Anne and Mark Phillips. Cousin George and Pat have been out of favour with the true royals for years. In fact 'Pat' was never 'in' with her old man's relations at all. I believe that Harewood's dirty goings on with his secretary killed the Princess Royal, who died 28.3.1965. The old girl had only just discovered that her son had an illegitimate son. The thought of divorce was too much for her. Even worse, the poor old Duchess of Windsor or the 'Unknown Queen of England' is also uninvited. But the sweet old thing is said to be 'looking round for a present'. Poor soul, it is scandalous the way she's been treated by her own family. She never shows any animosity towards them, although she's got every right to do so.

After a good days work I decide I want to stay in. John and Chris go to the Yorkshire Rose where Chris is asked his age by the staff. They walk out. Andy joins them. They come here with a supply of large cans of ale. We sit playing records and chatting until nearly 11. Andy goes for his bus. Chris rings his Dad but decides to stay the night. We look at photo albums until 1.30. Chris sleeps in the girls bedroom. A very enjoyable evening.

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Wednesday March 14, 1973

Dave, who takes his driving test on Friday, was attacked by Groves today for not doing work in lesson time. Next time he is found in a similar situation he will be expelled until further notice!
Poor Dave is quite cut up about the whole sordid business.

My test went down very well but I always worry about what Mrs Lane's reaction will be. I suppose it's only natural to feel this. Ayling gave me my Monopoly essay back with a 16 out of 25 for it - meaning 64 per cent. He was quite pleased with it.

At lunchtime June and I made the decision to go the Emmotts tonight as well as tomorrow because we get fed up with waiting all the way from Sunday to Thursday to go out. At 4.15 we went down to the shops, June being chaperoned by Linda, Benita and Janet. Benita is really eccentric. She wears black fishnet tights and very sombre dresses, and being very small she looks too funny for words. Her eye makeup is frightening,but June says she only does it get noticed.

Arrived home at 5.10. We had rabbit pie. Watched the 6 o'clock news. Marion, Countess of Harewood and the Liberal leader Jeremy Thorpe were married in a London register office today. (I bet you're saying: "what the hell is so important about that?" Well, it isn't so important, but they are desperate for headlines.). The news tells of more Trade Union threats to the poor government, etc.

Down the lane for my bus at 7.15. June was waiting for me outside the Emmotts looking simply divine! (Swoon). We sat around the corner away from the sight of Ivy, who becomes quite broing after the first 5 weeks! We sat on our own the whole time. Helen Willis came across for a chat - I haven't seen her for about a year - however, she's the same giddy girl.

Andy, Linda and Christine (White?) came in without Christopher. I wondered where he must have gone. June and I waited at the bus stop until 11.10. Having a very romantic, beautious affair in the crude looking bus shelter. My bus came at 11.10. I left June waiting for her 55.

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Saturday February 24, 1973

Mum got me up at 10.30. My interviews in Leeds. Set off at 11 but Mr Rawnsley gave me a lift into Guiseley, and then made my way to the train station - my Leeds train came at 11.15. My first interview with a Miss Cook at Debenham's was quite satisfactory - it lasted 20 minutes. She gave me an application form and told me to come back in July. I spent the next 2 and a half hours walking round Leeds. The large indoor market and the many pedestrian precincts are a lot better than the traffic filled streets. Bought some sandwiches and ate them in the park.I then went to look at the parish church where my great-grandfather, John Rhodes married Christiana Ross in 1890. Quite an elaborate pile.

2nd interview was not quite satisfactory. She said I would need "O" Level Maths before they would accept me. That's out for a start! The afternoon seemed such a drag and I was on the Ilkley train at 4.30.

Once again I was almost starving to death on my arrival home. I ate a large dinner whilst Mum sat by demanding to know the results of my interviews. I told her that they had hardly been successful.

It was on the news tonight, the headlines to be precise, that Marion, Countess of Harewood, who was divorced from the Queen's cousin in 1967, is to wed the Liberal leader Jeremy Thorpe, whose 1st wife died in 1970. They seem to make a nice couple. However, Lord Harewood has fallen from Royal favour since his re-marriage in 1967 to Patricia Tuckwell, whom Dad always calls "Miss Barnworthy" for some unknown reason. Old Harewood had a son to Miss Tuckwell back in 1964 - they very year before his late mother the Princess Royal died. I wonder if she knew? H must certainly be an embarrassment to the Queen.

Went down to the Chuck Wagon at 7. Pauline has refrained from her usual course of making passes at me. She remains a spinster, and talks even more. Toffer threatens to gag her one of these days. I was home by 1.15. Strange for Saturday nights. Came to bed 2.15.

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