Sunday January 23, 1977

3rd after Epiphany. Wake up at a late hour once again and Peter plays, loudly, an LP of military marches on his stereo. The three of us discuss Peter's bowels, &c. He tells us that his grandmother died at 4.30 this morning. I am embarrassed. What can I say? Should I dress in a black pullover and sing lamentations of mourning? Or do I ignore the situation? Mr Mather showed no emotion, and the whole family looked happier than usual. They seem to think that the old girl is better off out of it. At 80 she's had a good innings anyway.

In bed at Ty-Onnen

After a ridiculously late breakfast Peter, Chris, Lynne and I go to a remote forest (Dalby?) which seems miles away, and where Peter attempts to feed a bunch (or whatever the collective noun is) of ducks, over-fed ones too. To be honest, they didn't touch a crumb which was a bit 'off'' really because I expected more from them after we'd trailed half way across North Yorkshire just to see them.

Chris Ratcliffe, the Horsforth banker.

Back to Ty-Onnen for dinner and then on to Pickering cinema to see 'Josie Wales'. Yes, I've seen this one before too. Lynne stayed at home complaining of a headache and saying she was going to brush up on her Spanish. Christopher decided to return home tonight and I decided to accompany him. Fog. Back at Pine Tops for 12.30. Have a letter from Uncle Harry with details of his mother's birth-place &c, and details of the Upton family. Uncle H is brilliant.

Saturday January 22, 1977

Queen Victoria's big day again (she died on this day in 1901). Don't get out of bed until afternoon, and after 'breakfast' Mr & Mrs Mather go off in the direction of Scalebor Park to visit Mr M's mother, who is dying. Mrs Leah Virginia Mather (formerly Lee, born July 19, 1895), I think. (Just for genealogical purposes). Lynne and I look at a map of Sussex and find Angmering (where my grandmother is said to have been born). The place is about 3 miles from Arundel Castle, home of Uncle Miles. You never know, I might be the rightful Earl Marshal of England.

Peter: 'spot of bowel bother'.

At4 o'clock we go shopping to Scarborough . Not much really, but it satisfied Lynne at least. I loathe going round shops with females. Anything but that.

Mr & Mrs M get home at 7.30 to say Grandmama is on her last legs. We have chicken for dinner and then hang around until 10.30 waiting for Lynne to ready herself. Peter, Chris, Lynne and I go to the Bali Hai (Tiffany's) at Scarborough, which is nauseating. It's like a musical childrens' playground. Lynne complained the other week about the Penthouse being 'rough' but this place is far worse. Drank Pernod. Back to Ty-Onnen by 2.30. Completely shagged out. Peter had a spot of bowel bother and almost gassed Christopher to death.

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Sunday January 9, 1977

1st after Epiphany. Emerge at a late hour yet again but this time to the sweet serenade of Mr Peter Mather. He questions me on the latest intrigues, &c. He tells me that _____are in London for the weekend and that Chris had not so much of a party more of a 'tiny booze up' last night at the Ratcliffe pile. Where was my invitation? _____.

A day at Ty-Onnen. I refuse to help Lynne clean her car and sit with Mr M watching a black and white Jack Hawkins 'classic'. Anything's better than standing out on the drive with a soapy wash leather in one hand and a bucket in the other.

After dinner Peter announces that the film 'Jaws' is showing at the Pickering Empire, or Plaza, or wherever. I must have paid for that bloody shark three times over and kept Robert Shaw in luxury for the rest of his days the amount of times I've seen the film. They both enjoyed it. The bit Pete liked best was paying a mere 45p to see it. A saving of 55p on the Leeds cinemas.

Bed at 1.30 after more television.

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Saturday October 16, 1976

Up at midday. After eggs and bacon Lynne and I go to Gipton Wood Crescent and the home of Mrs Lilian Morris, sister of Mrs Vera Mather, and aunt of Miss Lynne Mather. Entertained until 2pm by Auntie Lilian, who attempts to demolish the respectibility of the entire Mather family, directing several unsavoury adjectives in the direction of the person of her blessed brother-in-law, Mr Donald Lee Mather, father of Lynne, and husband of Vera.

The next port of call is Auntie Mabel until 5 o'clock. She is cheerful and glad of our company and she gives me Uncle Jack's watch. A Sekonda with 17 jewels. I am reluctant to take it but she insists. She bought it for Uncle Jack on their 30th wedding anniversary - just three and a half years ago.

Mabel tells us that Karen [Gadsby] got engaged today and that a brilliant society ball in honour of this event is being held at the Territorial Army Headquarters in Leeds this very night.

Party in Ilkley: Lynne and I travel with Pete & Sue to the Crescent where only Lynn, Dave, Sarah, Marilyn [Wheeler], Tony, Pauline, John Cameron and Stuart are to be seen. I enjoy the party but Lynne loathes it. Dave drinks a whole bottle of 'Clan Dew' and leaves at 2am. Lynn wants to leave, but Judith & Kathryn persuade me to hang on until 3.30. Almost came to blows with a bloke called Fred, who knows Sarah vaguely. He took exception to my singing. Home in Kathryn's car to find David B in a collapsed state outside - nauseating scenes follow and at 4.30am Mama is disturbed. Oh God!!

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Sunday October 10, 1976

A sunny day. Not umberella weather at all. After breakast, at midday, Lynne and I go to Scarborough with Rebel [the dog], leaving Peter at home messing about with a window frame and Mr Rat glancing at the Radio Times. Spend a couple of hours eating crab and candy [floss] and drinking coca cola and walking the dog. He's a crafty old devil and only limps when he can put it to his advantage. The sun is out in force. Scarborough is much better at this time of the year. No dirty peasants playing ball games all over the beach, &c.

Home to Ty-Onnen at 4.30 to tea and cakes with Mr & Mrs M, Peter, Karl and Mr Rat. Watch TV until the evening meal at 6.30. The gentlemen depart for Horsforth at 7 o'clock and after 'Fawlty Towers' Lynne and I go back to the Royal Oak [I think] in Pickering. Feel bloated all night and take great discomfort in the consumption of cold lager. Donald M and his good lady wife are so matey.


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Sunday September 5, 1976

12th after Trinity. Out of bed at midday for a cooked breakfast with the Mather family [except Donald, who is decorating]. Horror of Horrors! I smashed a rare Meissen plate when I dropped a half-ton butter dish onto it. Mrs M laughs it off but I feel terrible. I never break anything at home. I also accidentally knocked Peter's electric razor off a dresser, showering particles & bristles all over the kitchen.

Lynne and I then creep away to the Cayley Arms. Talk about things. We don't like Jane, and neither does Donald & Vera. I say how much I like her parents - which isn't crawling - but quite sincere. Only us in the pub, which isn't very nice, and so we go for a drive round for an hour or so. Bright sun. We laugh at the sight of a massive 18 stone woman astride a tiny, pathetic, crippled pony, which seems to be dying beneath the weight. Lynne wants to contact the NSPCC or something. Isn't that for cats?

Back to Ty-Onnen for hilarious lunch and then settle down to watch 'Cromwell' starring Richard Harris and with Alec Guinness as the martyred monarch. Retire to bed at midnight after cuccumber sandwiches and Tchaikovsky's 'Swan Lake' on the record player. Listening to Lynne and her father discussing work over supper I realise how terribly ambitious she is. I don't like ambition one bit. I tend to think people become eaten away by it and finish up like Hitler.

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Saturday September 4, 1976

To Castle Howard with Lynne, Peter & Jane. We set off in Pete's van but he broke down near Kirkbymoorside, and struggled home and set off again this time in Donald M's car. L and I have a great giggle. However, I've seen nicer stately homes. Too many marble busts and long, empty corridors. The grounds are great though, and the two of us walked round eating liquorice & making fools of ourselves. Peter and Jane seem besotted. Lynne cannot get over it. She's never seen Peter so taken before. What he sees in the girl God only knows. She's 17 but has the brain of a backward 6 year-old, is flat-chested [not even nicely flat chested as some ladies are], and very pale. Ugh. Come on, Peter Baby! Pull yourself together!

Out tonight to Tiffany's at Scarborough until 2am. A good, enjoyable evening. In fact the weekend's been far better than I thought it would be. My only worry was that it might coincide with John & Maria's 'big' event, but so far so good.

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Thursday September 2, 1976

To Oakwood Hall at 8.30pm with Lynne. Stay until nearly midnight. Had a few drinks. Had the occasional dance. Had a great time. Need I say more?

Oh yes. Posted a Silver Wedding card to Mr & Mrs Mather for tomorrow and dropped a line to CB in Blackburn, but after I'd done this she rang me for a chat. I tell her that Tony is thinking of ringing her to see if she's doing anything on Saturday night. She is startled because she hardly knows him, but says she's coming home anyway. I can't get over what she said to me the other weekend. _________.

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Tuesday August 24, 1976

Come home from work feeling absolutely buggered. Tony rang to suggest visiting the ABC cinema either [on] Wednesday or Thursday, and I say yes to tomorrow night. Give Lynne a ring too and she agrees to accompany us. L says Mrs Mather is far from happy with Thornton-Le-Dale. It's quite understandable really. The Mathers are a close family and are being torn apart because of the move. Lynne is splitting her time between Roundhay and Thornton-Le-D; Peter's working over here but living over there; Karl wanting to stay at school over here, but living over there, &c. It's enough to drive them all completely batty. Poor Vera Mather. My sympathies ineed.

A night in front of the TV. By 11pm I cannot keep my eyes open. Why? It must be the water, or rather lack of it. Yes, the drought is affecting each and every one of us now. Oh, I cannot remember when I last took a glass down from the shelf and turned on the tap to fill it with H2o. My mouth is so dry and I am so dirty. When did I last take a bath? Was it Coronation year? No, it was the day President De Gaulle died because I will never forget the cracking emotion in Kenneth Kendall's voice as he read the 9 o'clock news bulletin just as I sank into the suds. Blimey, do you remember the day when people could actually flush the lavatory?

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Tuesday August 17, 1976

Even hotter today. Work was uneventful, and home at 5.15 and have roast chicken. Rang Lynne today. She's been making enquiries about a flat. Karl wants to complete his final year at Prince Henry's Grammar School and so he'd be able to join her. No doubt she'll want one in the Otley area. I cannot understand why they [the Mathers] had to move all that way to Thornton-le-Dale in the first place. It seems to me that Donald Mather is the only person who wanted to move. Very undemocratic. It certainly would never be allowed to happen in our family. If, for instance, Dad wanted to move out of the area against the wishes of the rest of us, he would be court martialed, and no doubt found guilty of high treason, and executed. The Angolan mercenaries received no sympathy in this house.

Leap into the bath at about 8pm to help kill the boredom. The television is uninteresting and things in general are running at a low ebb. My research into the descendants of Charles II remains incomplete, and I just cannot be bothered to take it up at present. You have to be in the right mood for that sort of thing.

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Sunday August 8, 1976

8th after Trinity. Up late and after a good lunch retire to the lounge to listen to Pennine Radio. The house is deserted. Mum is in the garden and Dad is at work. Sue, Peter and Lynn and David are at David's brother's in York. Just as I sit down Pete M arrives and asks if I want to accomapny him on a birthday cake distributing adventure. I readily agree. The boredom at home would have been unbearable. Go to Christopher's. Show out holiday photos to Mrs Ratcliffe. Then move on to Denise's but she isn't in either. (When Carole rang on Friday she told me that Denise had gone to London ________________.) From Denise's we went on Peter's place which is in a state of organised chaos. No carpets or furniture - horrible. Sit and drink tea with Lynne, Peter, Mrs Mather and Auntie Lilian. Mr M watches cricket on the TV in the wreckage of the lounge. He was sitting on a soap box. Have a laugh showing the family our holidays pics. Peter measured us all with a tape measure up against the side of the house - I am six feet and half an inch.

At 5pm we all had dinner. That is me, Lynne, Peter, Karl and Mrs M. Oh, and Auntie Lilian. After tea we take the two ladies to see Granny M at Scalebor Park Asylum. Evidently the old girl is 82 and is senile and quite daft, in her old age.

Mrs M comes out of the asylum looking sad, and so Lynne and I take her and Auntie Lilian for a drink to the Red Lion. They cheer up soon enough. After taking them back to Bramhope Lynne and I go to the Commercial until closing time. Today was probably the last time I will ever set foot in Ty-Gwyn (the Mather home in Old Lane) where Lynne has lived for 9 years. The place looked sad and desolate - but it only is bricks and mortar. It's people who make a home - wherever it may be.

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Wednesday October 16, 1974

Cold and miserable all day. Really a typical autumn. My half-day. Meet Lynne outside the YP at a bit past 12. Because of the rain we go to Whitelocks, where we have one drink and discuss what we want to do for the rest of the afternoon. Don't fancy walking through Leeds in the drizzle, and she suggests we go home to Bramhope, for lunch, &c.

Look around the Art Gallery whilst waiting for the bus, and eventually arrive at Lynne's at 2. We sit cosily on her sumptuous sofa, doing romantic things like eating beans on toast, and afterwards the passion becomes too great for us and we go wild watching a repeat of the 'Forsyte Saga' on the BBC until 4. We leave at 4.30. She goes to Leeds to have tea with her Papa, who is general manager of Schofield's (just thought I'd drop that morsel of information in). I get several buses and eventually roll in at 6. See 'Carry On Screaming' till 8 and feel generally bored. John goes out as usual, and so too do Mum and Dad. Dave rings Lynn, Peter calls on Susan - so in one way or another we are all paired off now. Haven't seen or heard of Denny since Saturday.

Dustmen who went on strike in Nottingham after being called 'idiots' by a local councillor, have gone back to work after the young man in question made a public apology. (Just heard that morsel on Radio Luxembourg and thought I'd slip it in).

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