Wednesday November 8, 1978

Christine phoned. A remarkable coincidence would seem to have cropped up. She told me she's going to London with Mrs B at the weekend and I leapt in and said "so am I" - to be told she's returning home from Victoria Coach Station at 6pm on Sunday, and Jacq and I will be on the same coach! It's going to be a riot. The poor driver won't know what's hit him. The passengers of a nervous disposition are going to have to delve for inner strength and courage. The combination of CB and I on a charabanc will be like the assassination of Robert Kennedy, three Royal Variety performances and the Pope's hire~wire trapeze act ~ all rolled into one.

CB is going to the Fox tonight and is working tomorrow. I am going to ring and suggest we go to Oakwood Hall after she finishes.

Jim Rawnsley says he is meeting the Prince of Wales, in his official capacity, when HRH visits Leeds next week. He and Muriel are in the official party to go to the Opera at the Grand {Theatre}. He's dreading it and would do anything to avoid going. Life is very unfair. I'd sacrifice my left knee to be sitting in the Royal Box.

Tonight we watched the first part of 'Edward and Mrs Simpson'. Thoroughly enjoyed it. I can see why some people wanted the series stopped.


Bed at 12:18am.

Monday October 23, 1978

An article in one of the bawdy newspapers said that our own dear Prince of Wales leads a very normal and active sex life. I never imagined for one minute that Davina Sheffield was merely his partner at billiards. However, discussing the sexual antics of our heir apparent is quite simply not on.

This afternoon Jacq and I went to the Ostlers. For some reason I had to get out of the office. Sarah was being particularly painful. She is always very trying after a riotous weekend. Like a baby, she is sulky, bad tempered and tired.

Alison and Mrs Dixon phoned and spoke to Lynn and Mum. Alison has asked Lynn to go down and see her. She and David are going on Thursday. Even Dave is looking pale and emotional about it all. He was quite fond of John P. _________.

Saw a Robert Mitchum film tonight and went to bed at about 11. Read The Duke and Duchess of Windsor by Ralph G. Martin (again). The poor old Duchess (of Windsor) is on her last legs in Paris. The powers to be down at Thames Television are no doubt praying for her end to come to coincide with the start of the tv series "Edward and Mrs Simpson".

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Thursday December 2, 1976

Today was horribly boring. However, December 2 has not always had a reputation for being so mundane. For it was on this day in 1936 - 40 years ago - that the revolting Yorkshire Post gave prominent notice to the fact that Dr Blunt, Bishop of Bradford, was far from satisfied with the performance of then incumbent of the Throne, Edward VIII. Yes, forty years ago this day the British public received it's first inkling of the Abdication Crisis. The poor old Duchess of Windsor is far from well these days. A much maligned lady if ever there was one. Queen Wallis in all but name.

Mr Ratcliffe rings to see if I'm going tomorrow night to Carol Smith's 20th birthday effort. When I say yes he chirps back 'Oh, I thought you'd be out with Tony'. Sarcastic little git.

Mum & Dad go to see Auntie Mabel, Marlene & Frank and come home with a tale that Uncle Peter ___________________. I find this hard to believe. Uncle Peter just doesn't seem to be the type - but who is the type? ______________.I, for one, don't think I could. But who knows what the future holds for us? If Jim Callaghan stays in office much longer I can't see myself being able to carry on. Oh God give me release from this torment!! Send for Margaret Hilda Thatcher to give us salvation -- Arrgghh!!

-==-

Monday November 22, 1976

Arrive at the YP and decide I want a half-day. Do all my routine work for 12 and leave for home. Musing on the way out about Mrs Johnson. Evidently, her 'lover' from Salvo's on Friday evening stayed the night at the flat. Good God, isn't she a tart? She never shows any signs of embarrassment after these sexual escapades with most of the men in the Leeds area [most of the sexually deprived and desperate men anyway]. Get home simultaneously with the arrival of our new deep-freeze and spin drier. After lunch Papa spends the afternoon demolishing walls in the garage to make way for the new long needed gadgets.

Finish reading 'Edward VIII' by Lady Donaldson. It was especially moving to read about the lying-in-state and the funeral. I was there and remember seeing the Duchess of Windsor peeping from the behind the net curtains at Buckingham Palace as the Queen left to troop the Colour and pay homage to her uncle.

See TV all evening. 'I, Claudius' is especially good. Mum and Dad go out for a drink and Lynn and I watch a programme dedicated to November 22, 1963 - thirteen years ago today since Kennedy was assassinated. I recall Mum coming into my bedroom and telling John & I of this. I was eight years old. The film of the event was agonising and scenes of weeping people outside the hospital at Dallas brought a lump to my throat. Jackie Onassis can be forgiven for going off the tracks somewhat after the horrific incident. Even the passage of thirteen years does not fade the tragedy of it all.

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Thursday June 3, 1976

Tony rings to say he's got the tickets for Hylda Baker tomorrow evening. £1.50 a piece. He was coming up tonight to watch Monty Python but he's having car trouble and won't be able to make it now.

Lynn and Susan are out this evening and so it's just me, Mum & Dad watching TV. Feel unusually tired, and by 11 o'clock my eyes are packing in for the night.

King George V is 111 today. No doubt he'll be celebrating quietly somewhere with Queen Mary. It's also the 39th wedding anniversary of the poor old Duchess of Windsor. Saw in the Express last week that she is more or less a recluse now and lives under the surveilance of half a dozen nurses. Poor Old Queen Wallis. Will they let her be buried over here? Nothing else to report.

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Wednesday December 10, 1975

The old Duchess of Windsor will regard this day as a special day I think. 39 years ago, the King of England packed his bags and left his country in order to win her heart. He could have reigned long and happily with her as his mistress but he would stop at nothing short of the altar. A proud old thing she really should be.

Don't hear from Carole during the day and at 7.30 John drives me up to Sarah's where we buy some of her fantastic pieces of pottery. I never imagined she was such a good, creative little thing. Spend £4 on her wares and come away entirely satisfied. Saw the new little dog, Lucy. So incredibly small. It will go through life pampered, spoiled and its every whim attended to. ___________________.

We call in at the Emmotts where Eric goes wild with excitement. Always make us welcome, they do. Even old Ivy remembered us.

Straight down to Carole's where she's quiet and surly. We go over to the Hare for an hour and then back to her place. I got the last bus, and she cheered up before I left. Sometimes she is so uncontrollable and bad tempered.

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Friday September 26, 1975

Do not wake until after 11. Staying in bed for hours on end is shear bliss. No work. Absolutely free until Sunday night! These days off are such marvellous things. (OK Michael, don't get carried away about having a few hours off work. It isn't the 'be all and end all' you know).

Finish reading The Duke & Duchess of Windsor by Ralph Martin. How much in love they were. The final chapter left a lump in my throat. The Queen should really feel ashamed for not letting the poor bloke do a job for us in Britain. All that talent and ability was rejected simply because he married out of the Establishment. Shameful.

To the Hare & Hounds with Carole at 8.30. Christine is in. I'm uneasy when both she and Carole are together. The animosity between the two is transmitted straight at me. With Peter M and Christine D in his van to Wikis. Carole and I don't dance until the final record, but we got on well enough. See Ann Greep, Marian, Maura, Lynne Mather, &c. My old girlfriends all in one night! Ann Greep especially was a surprise. I thought she'd married a guy called Ellis from Essex (no it's not a Limerick) and never imagined laying eyes on her again. At 2am walk Carole to Menston and then walk home. Arrive at 3am. Have a drink with Dad and then go to bed.

-==-

Monday September 22, 1975

Up at 9.30. Ernest Blackwell is in for a cup of coffee with Dad and Sue, and I show him 'The Story of the Duke and Duchess of Windsor' by Ralph Martin (which I bought on Saturday by the way). The book is really excellent and I believe theirs is the greatest love story of all time. To give up the throne for a woman!

Back to this diary peeping lark. I was mad with Carole. Reading someone elses diary is like opening someone elses drawers and reading other peoples mail. It is worse in fact. However, I'll bear no grudges and continue to say horrible things about people whether they are reading it behind my back or not.

She rang me at 11am to ask if I still loved her. Of course I do. She must think I am a cruel swine. I love her in a silly sort of way really, and she is the only girl I have fallen for who didn't knock me off my feet at first sight. Strange really.

Today is Mark Phillips's 27th birthday. I am disappointed really. Twenty-seven years old, two years married life behind him, and still no grandchildren for the Queen. A fortune teller in one of the Sundays says Princess Anne is going to have a baby girl next year. I am no medium, and it certainly takes no magic powers to se that 1976 will see Princess Anne in the Olympics, and no offpsring will appear until late 1977, or even 1980.

Carole comes round with Maria at about 8.30. We sit and drink Campari in the dining room and I give Carole a free hand with the record player. We don't really have the same taste in music, but Tamla Motown is just about bearable. I walk her home at a ghastly late hour and then walk all the way back in a slight drizzle.

Leap into bed with the Duke and Duchess of Windsor which is a tremendous book.

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Tuesday April 15, 1975

The Right Honourable Denis Healey, MP, Chancellor of the Exchequer, presented his Budget this afternoon, and I'm saying nothing whatsoever about it, other than he did nothing too drastic or outrageous. Just the usual load of old rubbish.

Busy day at the YP, and I'll be glad when Friday comes around again. A week off is just what I need at the moment.

I see a good feature in The Times on the Duchess of Windsor, still battling on at 78 years old. The poor old soul received sweet sod all from the British people, and the Royal Family ought to be ashamed. Three years since the duke died and they've done their utmost to forget all about her.

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Friday May 10, 1974

Wake up at 10.45 with the alarm clock ringing merrily.(Excuse the handwriting but I am sitting up in bed resting the volume on my knees - not a very satisfactory method at all). Doing nothing until Mother comes home for lunch, then she surprises me by saying she is having a driving lesson at 2 - which means this is the second one this week. She gets so nervous about drivming, so much so that she makes everyone else petrified too.

Go to the YP by train at 4.20. Arrive early as all the girls are just leaving. I have a very good night and finish all my routine work by 8.20! Judith Rushworth rings at 9 and we talk for 15 minutes about nothing in particular. I ring Mum but Sue tells me they're out and I joke with her and Lynn for a further quarter of an hour or so.

Read through the Duke of Windsor's file and am especially interested in the abdication period. The poor Duke of York hated the idea of kingship and from newspaper accounts it seems as though the king and his brother finished up deadly enemies. The refusal to give the duchess the style and title of 'HRH' stems from this rivalry. Anyway, I was very glad to see that Princess Margaret and Lord Snowdon, now visiting Canada, found time to call on the old Duchess of Windsor, who is visiting New York. Margaret and Edward VIII have a lot in common.

My taxi came at 12 and I was in Wikis at a quarter past. Meet dear Denny at the top of the stairs and she is worried about John, who disappeared about ten minutes before my arrival. I go check the lavatory but he is nowhere to be seen. Have a good deal to drink and have fun with Denny. Judith, the Alfa Romeo girl, comes over and sits with me and I act with great civility considering the way I have been treated. She gives me a lift home and we cry with laughter to see John staggering up the lane at 2.30. Where had he been? I follow him in and discover he'd slept on a wall behind Wikis, after going outside to get some fresh air. A likely tale, but it must be true. Bed at 3am.

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Tuesday February 19, 1974

Kathleen is worrying about the holidays this year. Everyone appears to be arranging weeks off except me. When I arrive home I discuss the details with John. We decide it would be nice to go to Windsor in June, when the Trooping of the Colour takes place of course. However, I am ignorant of the actual date upon which the Queen celebrates her official birthday this year. Anyway, I soon remedy the fact by ringing the YP library where Ray tells me that the event occurs on Saturday June 15. We make up our minds to stay with Uncle John and Auntie Sheila - all being well anyway - from June 8 to June 16. I could not miss my annual London excursion for anything in the world.

At 6.30 I had my third driving lesson.Feel much more confident than I did on last Tuesday's race around Horsforth. The bloke is a great guy. I am booked through until the end of March on the same day at the same time. If I don't pass first time round I will be resigned to the fact that I am an absolute failure.

A pleasant unusually mild day. Prince Andrew is 14 today, and I am disgusted with Yorkshire Post Newspapers for not flying the Union Jack above the building, which was so at 8.45 this morning, but at 1 o'clock when I went out for lunch, I was pleased to see the flag hoist above the bright, carefree skies of Leeds. It all goes to show that nationalism and patriotism is not yet dead in this decaying country of ours. Even the girls knew what flag flying day it was without being informed - the YP girls I mean - not my own dearest sisters.

See tv in the evening, and have a bath. The General Election is still the main topic. I am sick of hearing Harold Wilson insulting Lord Hailsham, and vice versa. Utterly sick of politics.

-==-

Sunday January 20, 1974

2nd after Epiphany. Death of George V in 1936. My theory about toilet paper rationing was used by Giles in his Daily Express cartoon this morning. He pictured thousands of football fans queuing for sheets of toilet paper to throw at the match. Whatever became of petrol rationing anyway? They soon quietened down about that didn't they? The poor, deranged MP was said we should all clean our teeth in the dark apologised - it seems he tried it on several occasions, and emerged with his hair spattered in Macleans, or something equally nauseating. Old Lord Carrington suggests that if we're good we may be put on a four-day week very shortly! Isn't it nice of him? But in general, this week's been another step down the path to destruction. Pity really. Wake up at 2.45 in the afternoon! Have a nice lunch and see a very funny film about marriage. Completely domestic evening. See Monty Python's Flying Circus. Died laughing. The poor Duke of Windsor became King Edward VIII thirty eight years ago today. The massive burst of 'Windsor mania' which erupted at the time of his death in May '72 is now quite stagnant again. No one gives a damn about the duchess, who winters in Cap d'Antibes. The poor old thing will be 78 in the summer. --==--

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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