Friday December 5, 1975

Woke up with a hangover this morning and devoured a whole family-sized tin of peaches for breakfast whilst Lynn looked on aghast.

Down to Leeds with Jim and sit in a heap saying absolutely nothing. I didn't have the strength yo utter a single sylable (I've spelt that last word wrong, but it's a word I can never manage).

I can't go on much longer with this bloody diary. It's becoming something of a bind because I'm always about five days behind and it means all my free time is spent scribing away. I've been doing this for just about three years now and I quite understand if you don't want to go on reading. I must be an awfully boring diarist. Perhaps if Leeds were to be destroyed by a Great Fire or Lynn was to marry the Prince of Wales I'd have something less mundane to record. Unfortunately, both these possible occurrences do seem more than slightly far fetched.

Linda's party tonight. Carole, CD and I go to the Lister's Arms on the bus. We meet Linda and Andy, who aren't all that talkative, and see little Helen Willis working behind the bar. All the mob arrive and we go to the social event of Ilkley's calendar.

It's a bit of a flop really. I behaved in a bit of a semi-pornographic fashion with Christine White. Andy and I ended up yelling abuse at each other, and I crammed a handful of freshly cut lemon slices into his yapping mouth. Lynn was unconscious, and John threw up all over my suit (he was wearing it). We came home in a mini-bus at 1.30 and I vomited half an hour later. Carole stayed with the girls in their boudoir. Poor Dave and Peter had to suffer on the floor in the lounge.

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Friday February 7, 1975

I feel as though I have another cold. It's only a matter of three or four weeks since I last had one, and the very thought of being tied up in bed for days and nights on end, with no other company than Tony Blackburn and David Hamilton sends vibrations of horror down my spine.

Go into town at lunch and get a new pair of cords and a Jersey - both blue. Lynn says they enhance my baby-face look.

To the Hare & Hounds with John - in the car!! Yes, it came back today after all those years. Move on to the Commercial, all except Chris and Christine, and it's packed out beyond belief. Mum and Dad are near the bar so they can relay the drink out to us. On to Wikis later. Meet Maura and a freaky, attractive friend of hers called Marianne (as in Faithfull and not in Robin Hood's girlfriend).

Maura drifts away and I remain in the company of Marianne until her taxi comes at about 1.30. We got on extremely well, and after a few minutes I really felt as though I'd known her for years. We're going to a party in Leeds a week tomorrow, something to do with Helen Willis I think. Home in the 1100 (with John of course), Christine Dibb, and John's new bit of skirt, who refuses to speak an audible word to me. He drops me off then takes her home, but to my horror I discover I'm locked out. From 2 until 4.30am when he returns, I amuse myself in the garage, mainly playing darts and leaping around to keep warm. However, it's my fault and John can't be blamed. Bed at 4.45 with a hot water bottle to calm my knocking knees.

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Friday December 6, 1974

Birth of Henry VI, 1421. Don't want to write too much. Did all the usual Friday ritual. Hare & Hounds, then the Commercial, and finally Wikis. Altogether pleasant and get slightly fresh on the lager. I still haven't reverted to drinking bitter, and I do not intend to. Campari remains a favourite though.

See Helen Willis at Wikis. She's had her hair cut in a ridiculous style. John and I walked home at 2. Freezing cold but very exilerating.

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Friday November 15, 1974

Quite busy at the YP. Mrs Collis rings in the morning to say Sarah is ill in bed. My delightful Sarah unwell!
Later: Have a fantastic time in the Commercial after starting off at the Hare & Hounds of course. Lynn and Dave, Carol, Phyllis Whitethighs, Keith, John and myself all stood in a bundle near the bar, laughing and joking. Phyllis kept saying it was her 19th birthday. I kissed her that number of times on the lips, and so did Keith, but he really did believe it was her birthday, so he's got some excuse at least. I drink campari and lager until we get to Wikis when I switch to bitter, which is quite putrifying. Very boring at Wikis, and I'm sick of seeing ______trying to grab all she can get in the idiotic stupor she's regularly in these days. To avoid the hideousness of drunken females I switched tables and sat until 2am with little Helen Willis, and three other unknown couples. Gillian Barker was of course near at hand. At 2 I escorted Helen to the door, but conveniently having no coat I am unable to walk her home. It's a cold night and I obtain a lift with John - Christine Dibb occupying the back seat. John and I argue about drinks on our arrival home and we wake Mama from her slumbers. She's not at all pleased by our disturbing conversation. Bed at 2.30.

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Saturday July 27, 1974

Work all day - my first full-time Saturday. Leave the YP at 4 and go straight home - completely dog tired on the bus and sleep from Kirkstall to Green Bottom, Guiseley. Strawberries for tea and then leap into the bath.

Peter Mather calls for John at 7.30 and I accompany them as far as Linda's house. John, Pete, Carol and Anne (the American) to to the Cat's Whiskers in York for a very cosy evening, and they are still missing when I retire to bed at 2.30am.

Carol Smith looks gorgeously sexy, wearing a perfect full-length red dress. We sit waiting for the arrival of Chris listening to the 'Band on the Run' LP by Paul McCartney and Wings. Go to several pubs down Apperley Lane before going on to the Stansfield Arms at 9.30. Hell Fire! We didn't get a table until after 11pm! Helen Willis appeared at our table in full capacity as a waitress, and Linda looks daggers at her. She drifted about the restaurant giving shoddy service to one and all, telling everyone in ear-shot that she was 'as pissed as a newt' - which can't have been good for business. Home at nearly 1am and sit with Dad talking about his strange brothers until 2.30 on Sunday morning.

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Friday June 21, 1974

My half day. Work 9-12. Busy but not unusually hard. See in the papers that the poor desolate Lady Jane Wellesley was taken to a police station in London after failing the breathylyser test in her Lancia car. No doubt that full of remorse over losing the Prince of Wales, she went out and got herself pissed. Good bloody luck to her Ladyship, that's what I say.

Go to Bradford at 12 where I meet Denise for lunch. Go to The Queen's, a new pub near the new hotel (Norfolk Gardens?) and we have a couple of drinks. A very warm day, and it feels wonderful to get into the shade of the little, cool tavern. At about 2 I go and have my hair cut, and it certainly needed doing - Denise thinks it looks wonderful. We have a coffee together.

Later: Jackie rings for John, but nothing comes of it and I decide not to contact Judy. She isn't a very nice girl_____. Very good looking of course, but that is all.

John and I go to the Hare (and Hounds) where we are soon joined by Bruno, Andy, Christine W and Linda. Where is Carol? No mention of her is made and I suspect Bruno and she are no longer intimate. Denny comes very late, and Chris even later. To Wikis at 10.30. Home 2.30. Helen Willis ignored us all night.

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Friday May 3, 1974

Off all day. Go to Morrison's with Dad and get the weekly supply in. Poor Mummy is still ill and remains in bed until lunchtime. A warm afternoon, but do absolutely nothing at all. Go to the YP on a 33 bus, but do not get to the office until 5.15 and Kathleen, who is chatting with one of the lads, doesn't seem too pleased at my lateness. She goes at 5.30 and I carry on until midnight. An excellent evening and hardly no interference from any of the lads, except one who wanted pictures to illustrate an article on alcoholism, which I couldn't find anywhere.

At around 11 a party of ladies came inspecting the place on a guided tour and I displayed a large selection of coloured photos of Princess Anne's wedding on my desk to give them something to rave about. I never fail to satisfy these visitors, and the guide never suspects that I am only doing these things in order to make his tour all the more exciting.

At 12 I get a taxi on account and get out near Wikis. Find John drunk inside, and see Chris being pestered by Helen, who immediately accosts me and makes me buy her a drink. I pick up two girls and at 2 they take me to their flat on Apperley Lane in a white Alfa Romeo, if that is how one spells it, and Philip Cartwright and Paul also come. At 3 Philip brings me to Hawksworth Lane. John was mad at not being invited.

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Friday April 19, 1974

Up at 9. Sit listening to the radio until half past, then get the bus to Leeds. Arrive at YP at 10.30. Kathleen was pleased that nothing difficult was thrust upon me last night. Quite a boring day really. Home at 6 and immediately had a bath. John rang Chris and arranged to meet at the Emmotts. I was furious and after all the things I'd said about the place yesterday I was in two minds about going at all. But surely enough at 8.20 we were inside, having the honour of drinking the most expensive beer in the area. Philip Cartwright and his latest play-thing, Jane, sat with us. Dave, MM, and Marita came in and I stood with them for the want of something better to do. The three of them were in the highest of spirits, but______. Marita, the sweet thing, bought me a drink. They left at 9 and Chris, who had only just arrived, John and I moved on by bus to the Yorkshire Rose. I hate the place and was only too glad at 10.30 when we were able to move on to Wikis. To my surprise, Andy, Keith and busty Heather were already propping up the bar. We settled down at a table and I was quite ready to fall into a deep coma when Little Helen spotted me and rushed over. From then until 2am the two of us danced nearly non-stop. Chris disappeared mysteriously at 1.30 and John looked miserable as sin. At 2.15 I walked Helen home. We sat in her tatty lounge until 3.30. She was very drunk and woke the whole household up. I made my exit and walked home, and I found it most pleasant. The birds were singing and the night sky was nearly gone.

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Saturday April 6, 1974

Wake up at 10.30 to find John missing, Helen in Mama's bed, and Chris in Lynn's small hutch. Helen may be a nice travelling companion, but she makes a terrible breakfast friend - she doesn't realise it but she's extremely rude, and a terrible bore.

Very mad that the Gadsby bunch didn't send me a birthday card or any recognition of the fact that I have celebrated an anniversary of my birth. After all, it was dear Auntie Hilda who ran for several miles on the night of April 5, 1955 to inform Uncle Albert, Grandad and Granny that I had arrived upon this earth. Can you imagine Auntie Hilda running like hell down Stanningley Bottom? I bloody well can't.

At 8 o'clock I go see June at her sister's in Guiseley. We sit until 1.0am watchingt tv and making eyes at each other from opposite sides of the room. Honestly, she knows I'm captivated by her but it makes no difference whatsoever. See the Eurovision Song Contest. Ugh! Then a documenary on 'Count Dracula' - by now we're both hand in hand on the sofa, more of a measure against fear and anything to do with romance. Ring John at 1.15 who is entertaining Chris, Linda, Christina W and Peter in front of the tv. Hurry home. Everyone looks miserable as purity.

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Friday April 5, 1974

My 19th birthday. Up at 7 and Lynn and Sue present me with a polo-necked jumper (a nice cream colour), and Mama gives me £3. When I leave for the YP it's the last time I will see the family until Sunday night. Mum waves me off at the door with a: "take care of yourself", etc. A rather beautiful morning, though birthdays are always disappopinting somehow, and never fail to let me down with a feeling of 'nothingness' if that makes any sense at all. Rush home from the YP and June rings me. The silly female absolutely refuses to come to my party tonight, and no pleading on my part can possibly make her change her mind. I don't particularly feel upset by her refusal, and it is all I expected. Lorraine, her chaperone, rings me twice and says that June must be insane, and that she's been undecided all day about whether to come or not, June I mean. MM, Marita, Denny and David arrive at about 8.30 and they drag me off to the Fox and Hounds, Menston. By about 10.30 I'm totally gone - intoxicated I mean, and we're all back at Pine Tops living it up. I ecventually have ________with Denny and Christine White. Well, it is my birthday! Little Helen Willis arrives at about midnight, and by 2am Chris, Helen and me are the only people left - MM and crowd disappeared early on - after devouring an Easter egg which George's girlfriend had bought John. Pigs they are! -==-

Wednesday November 28, 1973

The first of the winter snow fell in Leeds from about 11 o'clock this morning onwards. It was fantastic. The snow always deadens the noise, and the traffic moved silently down Wellington Street, for a change.

Ian Appleyard was on the train this morning. His sister Margaret is getting married again next month.

A busy, but pleasant day at the YP. A journalist wanted to know if I would play rugby on Sunday but I told him that I loathed the sport. He says it's the YP versus the EP. They'd kill me! All those 16 stone grizzly reporters - never!

At lunchtime I researched the genealogy of Lady Jane Wellesley. She is, of course, descended from the 1st Duke of Wellington, victor of the Battle of Waterloo, and she is a fifth cousin of the Queen. Yes, she's suitable enough and quite attractive - probably a bit plump, but nothing to get tangled about. Whatever happened to Angela Nevill?

Get the 5.17 train with Helen Willis. We discuss old school days especially the sociology lessons. What fun we had way back in those good old wintry days of December 1971. Home at 6 for tea.

See 'Coronation Street'. Albert Tatlock and Minnie Caldwell are thinking about getting married! I'll not venture to comment on that thank you very much.

You are well aware of my views on the subject of monarchy, but I'm going to break from tradition in order to say something very rude about one of the lesser royalties. King Feisal of Iraq is a "silly bugger", and I mean it. He's been very stubborn with his oil supplies at the moment and, as a result, petrol rationing books will be issued tomorrow.

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Friday August 17, 1973

Unknown to me, the 'A' Level results were released today. Dave didn't find out about them until Chris rang him at 6. Oh Lord! Poor Chris failed both Biology and Geography. What a weekend of torture I am in for.

Spend the morning at St Andrew's Close with Andy, who takes the afternoon off from 12.30. I carry alone through the afternoon until 5.

June and I decided yesterday to go out on Saturday and so John and I went to the Emmotts at 8.30. Little Helen Willis and Denise came in with poor Chris, and Sue Crosby who got her two 'A' levels. What a very enjoyable night it is. Helen wants John, MM, Chris and I to go back to Liz Peddie's but due to transport difficulties we decide not to. MM brings John and I home.

Come home to see a Vincent Price film - 'House of Usher' - quite a load of old rubbish really.

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