Wednesday December 13, 1978

Jeremy Thorpe: sent for trial

Jeremy Thorpe's been sent for trial to the Old Bailey __________.

I  am cheesed off tonight. Sitting around the glowing Christmas tree should have seen me full of the joys of the season, bristling with gay abandon, but this was not to be. I had been thinking about money. I am on the verge of a great financial collapse. Gus and Frank's 21st birthdays take place at Crumpet on Friday, and this event will make me destitute. Mum hasn't come forth with the offer of a loan and I can understand her predicament because she's no Gloria Vanderbilt is she? Blimey, I cannot be expected to use her purse like a ruddy tap, can I? I am going to have to resort to drastic measures and assault someone. Maybe "mug" an 85~year old spinster and make off with her old age pension. It's all very well giving these old souls a £10 bonus every Christmas, but what about us youngsters who could really spend the extra cash wisely? Life is so cruel & unfair. My best hope is to approach Susan, I think.  If she isn't forthcoming I will lower myself and ask one of the lads.

To bed at 12:05am. Ate pilchards on toast and supped a mug of tea. Ugh.

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Monday April 10, 1978

SNOW! Yes, bad weather maybe, but it didn't wipe the smile off my face, and do you want to know for why? Well, it's very simple. _____________. However, this pearly, sexually arousing grin of mine died on my poor lips when, at the YP, I managed to phone the Yorkshire Bank. They, the filthy bankers, have refused to give me a loan, and no reason is to be given. No doubt it's Barclaycard who have tipped them off about my eccentric monthly payment history. It seems I am to be forever branded a debtor. Indeed, the very mention of my name in financial circles immediately wipes billions of shares off the Stock Exchange. I'm not going to let it worry me, anyway.



The reception I had at home was nothing short of violent. Mummy gave me the usual lecture. At one time she likened me to ______. Tempers were frayed beyond all comfort. Mummy took on the character of several ogres all rolled into one. Adolf Hitler and Mussolini together would have quaked and dissolved in a mess of urine on the floor had they had to endure Mama's tongue lashing. Oh, it was foul. And all because I have been refused a bank loan!

I have, in retrospect, decided that Mum's Wilson pride must have taken a severe kicking by this latest embarrassment. The Rhodes family care little about whether bank managers bestow money on them or not, but to upset a Wilson so is like smashing an eighteen ton weight on a sensitive area of a male's anatomy. Have I made myself quite clear?

The Princess Margaret nonsense has quietened down slightly. The whole brouhaha has been monstrous.

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Friday November 25, 1977

Mr Peter Nason broke his leg this morning. This horrific news was conveyed to me at tea time by a desolate Mama. Susan is at the hospital consoling the ashen faced young man. He will be out of action until the New Year undoubtedly.  Bang goes his Christmas cheer at Oakwood Hall or any other discotheque for that matter. The poor boy has endless trouble with his legs, feet, toes, &c. It would perhaps prove far better if he were to have the lot off.

QEII: Carole's nail varnish would paint it 3 times over...

Talking of invalids and the like, I think it's about time I paid another visit to Carole. It's eight days since I last laid eyes on the fair maid. I cannot understand the change of attitude of her mother, the Dowager Lady Phillips. It was a known fact 18 months ago that her Ladyship hated the sight of me, and yet over the past weeks she's been positively angelic. However, I cannot help quivering when I view the number of presents she 'bought' Carole. The bottles of nail varnish could paint the Q.E.2. three times over. I cannot help thinking that the dear Mrs P isn't paying for it all. __________. Kleptomaniacs seldom recover, do they? Am I being frightfully cruel? Should  I perhaps give the old girl the benefit of the doubt? Oh, go on then.

Saw TV tonight until 12 and then retired to bed with my book. I received a lecture from Mummy this evening on my financial situation again. Things always become a little heated when we discuss my budget and the scenes at Westminster on the days following the Queen's Speech cannot be any worse.

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Thursday August 18, 1977

The YP took £5 from my wages today (National Savings Certificate) and it opened a new chapter in the life of Michael Rhodes. Yes, I have actually started saving some money for the first time in my long and varied life. By Christmas I'll have £100, and by next May £200. The holiday in 1978 will be no problem financially.

Jack Warner: 'Blue Lamp'

Tony came at 6.30 and collected my luggage and took it down to London, where he is at a conference for the day tomorrow.

Martyn rang. He says Martyn Knipe is home and invites me out tonight to join them. I tell him no because Anthony Cawston's film 'Royal Family' is on TV at 9.55. The lads came here at 8.30 and we watched a chronic, yet amusing film 'Blue Lamp' starring Jack Warner. To say we demolished it is an under-statement. After some persuasion they set off for Oakwood Hall without me.

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