Thursday April 27, 1978

Lunch at the Ostlers with Jacq.

To Oakwood Hall tonight with Christine. First we went to the Hare & Hounds for one miserable drink in the company of poor Kathryn Young. No sighting of Judith, but I was told she was 'lurking' behind the bar with her 'young man'.

The night was an amusing one anyway. We laughed at the young boys who were attempting to imitate John Travolta whenever a Bee Gees record was played. "Oh, so you've seen the film too" was Christine's quip on the dance floor.

We didn't drink to excess. I drank cider. The lager was discarded completely. Home at nearly 2:0am. We caused a riot on the lane. Even Jim Rawnsley was awakened by the screams of laughter.

-=-

Wednesday December 7, 1977

Snow upon snow. A thick, white layer everywhere.

Carole phoned me at 5:00pm to thank me for the letter. She says she's probably coming home on Friday. I'm elated. ____________. My letter must have been sentimental. It's made her realise just what I'm thinking. I put Mum on and they chatted for ages.______________. Today I wrote to Kathryn (Young) and Christine. Dad's typewriter in the house prompted this industriousness.

It's becoming very 'Christmasy' you know. Mum is playing 'The Floral Dance' by the Brighouse and Rastrick Brass Band on the record player and the combination of this, the weather, and general cheer will undoubtedly be confusing Santa into coming early.

I have laid hands on a pair of cord trousers from Mum's catalogue. Black ones - very nice too.

-=-

Friday November 11, 1977

Met Jacqui at 4.45 at the bus station and the weekend began disastrously when the bus broke down and we got caught up in a snow storm. By the time we arrived at Guiseley after 6pm it was so bad we were compelled to seek refuge at the Station Hotel where I phoned for assistance from home and we both had half of lager. I was carrying a pheasant (courtesy of Delia, who did not desire removing it of its feathers and innards) and the bird's beak poked through the polythene bag, dripping blood over the pub carpet.

Dad collected us. He says Mum may have a kidney stone. Dr Mellor says she must shed a stone in weight. Her blood pressure is high. She is pale and ill.

Jacqui.

The rain, snow and gales persist and at 8 Sue, Pete, Janet Simon and Chippy take Jacqui and I to the Fox & Hounds. They then leave the two of us alone and we saw none of the usual Friday night visitors. No Tony, Martyn or 'Piss and Crete'. We had a few at the Fox and then went to see Judith R and Kathryn at the Hare where I became quite pissed. I blame the vivacious Miss Young entirely for my condition. We sat in the Tudor Bar until midnight and then I ran around in the car park with my 'inflated' umbrella until it was smashed to pieces in the high winds. It disintegrated into a warped mass of fractured metal and plastic.

At home the two of us drank 2 bottles of Beaujolais and listened to the record player at a very low volume until about 5am. Nobody could possibly have heard us. Sue and Pete slept on the settee - snoring contentedly - until I had the foresight to awaken them after 3. Poor Pete dashed off home. He's working at 7.30am.

-=-

Tuesday June 21, 1977

Out with Martyn, Susan and Peter to the Hare and Hounds. Lynn is dishing out the ale. Judith and Kathryn came in and I said I'd been off the scene for 'financial reasons'. Judith asked: 'Have you forgiven the manager yet?' I said I most certainly have not. From the County Mortuary we went to the Shoulder of Mutton where we were joined by Karen Cole, Julie Webster and lovers. Do not particularly like the Shoulder but the beer's wet at least. Down to the fish and chip shop where we satisfied our hunger on innocent haddock. We always have a nice time, Sue, Pete, Martyn and me. No one likes ________and Peter seems to have a pathological hatred of him. ______.

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Wednesday May 11, 1977

Don't hear a bloody thing until Mum and Dad come in for lunch at 1.45pm. Sat yawning over a cup of tea and then opened my mail. Two bloody letters. One from Helen Malin which points out I owe her £1 and not vice versa. Oh shit. I said that the royal baby would be born in the spring or summer of '77 and if it arrived any later I would pay up. What a horrific thought. The other is a letter from Kathryn. It is perfection itself and I settle down to reply and before I know where I am it's 4 o'clock and time to go to the dreaded YP.

Diary: red ink works wonders

Charged down the lane and got at bus. At the office for 5. I made enquiries about coaches for Saturday returning Sunday. Peter Mather amazes me __________.

Work was busy and tiresome. Ursula is very nice to work with. I do believe I experienced an erotic dream about her the other night. Of all people. I must be daft or something. How do you like my change of handwriting? Mrs Monkman, who left number 60 yesterday, gave me the pen. I do believe her brother sent it to her from Japan. One would have thought that the Japs would have caught onto the biro by now. I still think this nice red hue works wonders. Blue ink became so depressing.

The taxi driver tonight was no leading authority in any field. If he was he didn't bring it into the conversation.

-=-

Wednesday April 27, 1977

Am I becoming boring again? Do let me know if I am. A lovely day with the birds singing up above, and all that.

Glynnie.

Sarah is in high spirits and we laugh just like in old times. Everyone's become far too serious lately. O for the joys of Spring!

Rang Judith at 6. She was in the bath but her mother acted as a messenger girl and I'm told she can go out tonight but not tomorrow. I have no money but Mama - bless her - has promised to lend me a couple of quid until I come into my fortune.

John and Dad are under the car again. I will nominate both of them to His Holiness for canonization. St Lawrence, patron saint of Old Bangers, &c.

Princess Caroline

To get to the important things: The Queen and Queen Mother are visiting Baron and Baroness Philippe de Rothschild in France and the Prince of Wales and Duke of Edinburgh are on their way via Nice to Monaco. Is it wedding bells for Prince Charles and Princess Caroline? I bet the Mail and Express will be hinting at this in the morning. Sarah makes me laugh. She says Princess Caroline is "lacking in virtue".

Dave from Stockport rings at 7.30 to see when we're going over to collect his £142. May 7 or May 14 seem to be possible dates. I've only got about £50 saved up. Aaarrghh!

Met Judith at the Hare and Hounds at 9 o'clock - she is of course with Kathryn (who is very nice) but I would like to see Judith alone occasionally. Stay until about 11 and feel a bit pissed, as indeed I always do when I'm with Judith. Kathryn takes us back to her chambers at Highroyds (the asylum) where we drink wine and mess about with her typewriter. Back to Judith's for fried egg and rissole sandwiches until 2am. Home very tired and with a heavy head. Kathryn driving, of course.

-=-

Wednesday April 20, 1977

Obtained a signed copy of 'Majesty' by Robert Lacey this afternoon. Lacey was at a YP Literary Lunch with Harold Macmillan and others and Carol managed to lay hold of a copy for me. 'To Michael In This Her Majesty's Jubilee Year' it says. Read about 80 pages before embarking for the Hare & Hounds tonight and really enjoyed it. Of course I recognised many of the quotations because I've read virtually everything on the Royal House of Windsor and I am a leading authority on Her Majesty (Yes, he's showing off again).

Peter N drove me to the pub and we had a couple of drinks together. Judith was in with Kathyrn Ann Young (I have confirmed the spelling) and a Highroyds Hospital psychiatrist is making them laugh hysterically. Peter left after after a couple of lagers and Judith and Kathryn joined me at the bar. Guinness, Pernod, Tequila, &c. I even knocked a pernod and orange clean off the bar. Heart-broken I was. John came in with Jimmy Macdonald and Fogarty. _______. Back to Judith's until 1am. I was a bit pissed.

Home to bed with 'Majesty' and read as far as King Edward VIII and his brief reign. Yes, even in a state of intoxication I can open a volume of a serious nature and pass a pleasant half hour. You are indeed looking at the diary of brilliant scholar, can't pass exams, but brilliant all the same.

-=-

Thursday April 14, 1977

A usual sort of day. Collected my weekly pennies at lunchtime. When I say pennies I'm not being silly either. Bugger all at work. Boring and uninteresting in fact. I feel quite normal which is strange considering the excesses of last night.

The Queen, by Annigoni

See in the paper that a programme on the Queen's Silver Jubilee visit to the Commonwealth is to be broadcast by the BBC tonight  and I realise that a horrible decision is going to have to be made. Yes, can a true royalist actually go out to the pub in the knowledge that Her Sovereign Majesty is to be seen, in all her glory, on the telly? What a dilema I am faced with. Yesterday I made a promise to go out with Martyn and Tony tonight and would it be right for me to go back on my word and break this contract?  What would her Majesty's wishes be if it fell my lot to be so honoured by her presence at this agonising moment of indecision? On my knees before my tiny yet masterly portrait of HM by Annigoni I ask for some divine solution to my heart searching problem. As if from the heavens above a pealing voice fills the room saying: "Go forth my son and take refreshment with thy friends". So, I did. Can't say I was thrilled by it though. I suffered all the evening from pangs of remorse and horror at whether I'd made the right decision. My lager lost that pleasant bouquet. The comfort of the Hare and Hounds took on the aura of Tyburn gaol, and the gathering therein looked dull and lifeless.

Judith and Kathryn sat drinking wine. How many different ways can a man spell Kathryn? Or more importantly which one adorns itself to the person of Miss K. Young? Katherine? Katharine? Catherine? Kathryn?

We go on to the Crown at Yeadon which is rotten. Who the hell told me it was a great pub? See Philip Knowles, and then espy CB. She says she'll call me. We go for fish and chips. Tony goes on ________.

Playing at ventriloquists and dummies.

No comment.


Back to the Hare where Miss Young sits upon my knee and we play at ventriloquists and dummies. She recites the alphabet in a strangled dummy voice whilst I drain a pint of that lifeless lager.




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Saturday March 26, 1977

Tony comes up at 1am with the Dave B birthday photos and those from last weekend. Really good.

walking in the rain in Menston.

Rang Judith and she rekindled the age old idea of picnicing at Bolton Abbey. Tony is in agreement. The two of us nip to Bradford and lark around for a bit before returning to Judith's. She's clad in tight jeans, wearing red braces and her hair is in pigtails. Killer.

To Ilkley for supplies. Two bottles of wine, bread and cheese, &c. Joined by Kathryn too, of course. Rain at Bolton Abbey, but the four of us eat, drink and make merry. Watch blue tits sweeping down after our bread crumbs.

Judith is tight jeans and braces.

At 2.45 we pile into the Devonshire Arms. All a little pissed except Kathryn who looks ill. Tony comes over all tired. By 4pm it's just Judith and I remaining - drinking tepid coffee at Bedside Manor. We feel as though we should carry on with the drinking. Is it alcoholism, or just the fact that we're almost 22?

We walked in the rain to Menston to see Fat Carol in her flat near the Hare. My God what squalid quarters. She was romping around in her underwear - her hair standing on end, and a strange girl was in her bed. Judith and I felt very uncomfortable. The whole place stank of vomit and the place is reminisceent of a rat infested cell in the Bastile. Horrible. Judith and I walked to the bus stop with horror etched on our faces.

Tea at 6. In the bath. To the Hare with Peter N in his new Capri. Susan, Lynn, Dave B, Martyn, Ruth, Chris, Peter M, &c.  CB was in but she went off with Chris Blades. Stayed until 11. I feel a bit down. Carole and Fogarty are getting engaged at the end of next month. Silly, young fools. Will it last?

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Thursday March 24, 1977

No one at home after tea except sweet little me. After my bath and general sprucing up I rang Tony. He's going out with Linda, Martyn and Ruth. He says he feels quite rotten about dumping me but I respond by saying I'm a good looking lad, over 21, who is quite capable of taking care of myself and able to provide my own amusement. Rightly so. I then rang Martyn.  He says he and Gayle will be in the Hare tomorrow. I then used the telephone for the third and final time tonight and rang Judith. I arranged to meet her and Kathryn in the Hare. Left home at 8.10 and marched all the way to Menston. Yes, on foot.

with Judith.

Virgin Queen?

Not a soul to speak to in the Hare until Judith came in at 9pm. I was sitting near the juke box like 11 and a half stone of cabbage. Quite a good night in all and the climax of the evening could have been dubbed with Handel's music for the royal fireworks when Carol (Fat Carol who works at the Hare) emptied the contents of the ice bucket over Judith and squirted half the contents of a soda syphon over her and Kathryn. The scene which followed was reminiscent of Queen Marie Antoinette's procession to the guillotine as Fat Carol was hotly pursued around the pub lounge. Quite hysterical really.

The three of us then passed on to the Chinese take-away in Guiseley where Judith treated me to a gastronomic delight. Afterwards on to Bedside Manor (26, Fieldhead Road) for coffee until nearly 2am. Kathryn and I debated whether Queen Elizabeth I died a virgin. She died 374 years ago today. Judith was flat on the floor in a coma as this indelicate chatter went on. It's an awkward point. How would one go about asking God's annointed if she fancied a bit of hanky panky? Those who valued their heads would have avoided such banter, we decide. Home to bed feeling absolutely buggered.

-=-

Sunday February 27, 1977

1st in Lent. Awakened at 10.30 by Maria and baby. Give him a nurse sat naked in bed sheets. Me naked  in bed sheets that is. JPH was fully clothed. I think he was expecting me to breast feed him. Babies are a wonder. I wouldn't mind having a few myself shortly - ones begotten on the wrong side of the sheet, or is it blanket? You know what I'm getting at anyway.

Out at 8 o'clock to the Hare with Tony and Martyn. We fall upon Judith and Kathryn. I ask if she's made any attempt to get March 12 off work to accompany me to David B's 21st. She seems to favour the idea. The three of us go to the Craven Heifer again. It's ridiculously packed - like a London air raid shelter in 1942. All very friendly. Meet three schoolgirls who work as Saturday girls at Smith's in Ilkley. One is a bespectacled Arien and is nice and witty. We are joined by an uncouth cad who has nine endorsements for various motoring offences. The women regard him as something of a sex object. We all go back to the flat for a quick coffee. The girls refer to the absent Barry as 'Mr Munnings' which is thoroughly hilarious. Home by 11.30. To bed.


-=-

Sunday February 20, 1977

Quinquagesima. By 4am only Judith, Kathryn and I are conscious. But when we decided to call it a day I realised with horror that my jacket and keys are locked in Tony's car. We drove to Kirkstall for sausages and chips and pots of hot coffee at an unpleasant transport cafe which, by coincidence, is closing down today. Listen to Elvis Presley on the juke box and debate whether we're sane, or not.

Tony.

On leaving the 'restaurant' we were accosted by two or three police officers in cars, who question us about a shooting which had just occurred in Leeds City Station. Kathryn turned to me and said: "What have you done with the gun, Michael?" This did not amuse the officers.

Frankenstein's monster.

Back to Judith's serenaded by the clanging of church bells and the singing of obnoxious bird-life. To make matters worse Kathryn has an elephant in her mini which plays the drums and makes one hell of a rumpus when wound up. A clockwork elephant. Judith dumps us in her dining room and then slips into a coma on the carpet. I sit moaning and groaning trying to keep Kathryn awake and for her to amuse me. Silly bugger aren't I? By 8am Kathryn decided that Tony would be on the move and so she drove me down to WH Smith's. Tony was indeed up. But what a nauseating sight! Frankenstein could not have looked worse, in fact Mrs Shelley's creation is angelic in comparison. I sit at Tony's breakfast table in dark spectacles watching him pace up and down with a strange look in his eyes. ______.

Home for 9am and immediately retire to bed until 12 o'clock. Tony takes me to the YP at 5 o'clock in the snow. Yes, snow. By 10pm I'm just about unconscious with exhaustion.

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Saturday February 19, 1977

My alarm sounds at 10.45. Sit about with some crumpets and tea waiting for Tony. He comes at 11.30 looking worse for wear. Go down to Ilkley with his car packed with belongings and unload it at his new apartment. We then go off in the direction of Doncaster to collect some so-called furniture from his friend Peter. Bugger all it is really. Just three broken down old chairs and something closely resembling a table. Hardly worth trailing all that way to Doncaster for. Tony isn't too happy about it either. Have a cup of tea and watch TV before returning to civilization.

Tony Crosland: snuffed it.

Hear that the Foreign Secretary snuffed it this morning. Is it bye bye to Denis Healey at the Treasury?

Back to Bradford and fill the car with more bric-a-brac. I get home for 8 and am back out again at 9. Tony, Martyn and me down to the Hare. Joined by Chris and Pete M and go down to the Crown at Ilkley. Get pissed and ring Judith, who is serving at the Hare. She says she will come to the flat if she can find Kathryn. Oh do we get pissed!  Back to the flat: Naomi, Karen (Moorhouse), Chris, Pete, and eventually Judith and Kathryn - the hilarious Miss Kathryn Young.I end up getting engaged to Judith and we exchange rings and shirts, &c. Martyn was horribly seduced by his lady and I've never seen Tony get in such a state. We polished off a bottle of gin and a couple of bottles of wine.




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Thursday February 17, 1977

Good night out with Tony, Martyn, Judith, Kathryn and a loud, outspoken maiden who's taken up a post at the Hare & Hounds. After having a few drinks at the Hare we go to Ilkley - to the Crescent - where we're all hysterical at different jokes. Judith laughs at the speed, or lack of speed, shown by the bar staff here, and the loud girl with prospects at the Hare keeps asking for a 'slice with the ice'. Nothing out of the ordinary, because we aren't out of the ordinary people. We just enjoy ourselves.

With Judith.

At 10.30 we go to Il Trovatore - Kathryn included, where Naomi and Miss Moorhouse confront us. Miss Moorhouse falls immediately into Martyn's clutches and within minutes they're bogged down behind a table doing more than talk politics. I saved Judith from a pissed geriatric who asked her the age-old question: "Do you come here often?" She (Judith) takes to Tony like David Wilkie takes to water and I drift off with Naomi into the corner where Martyn is conducting his affair. Nice girl is Naomi.  By 1.30 I think Mr Brotherwood had stomached enough and so he suggested we make a move. Martyn and Karen went off with him and Naomi ferried me back to Guiseley. Don't I pick the women with transportation facilities? Yes, I do. Pissing down when I get home.

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Thursday February 10, 1977

My first full day without Her Majesty Queen Lynne as my consort and help-meet. In many ways a sad day. The Lynnian era is no more, and with it goes all the security, brilliance and power. The days of convenient car rides to the pub and pleasant weekends at Ty-Onnen have automatically ceased. Once again, I am nothing more than a pleasant, roving peasant.

David Baker

Work is unmentionable. Meet Dave B at the Yorkshire Crown at 12.45 after wading through several feet of water on Wellington Street. Boards outside the office (EP ones) proclaimed 'CHARLES AND DAVINA - PALACE STATEMENT' which is fact a denial of any imminent marital alliance. The Buckingham Palace spokesman says 'it's preposterous to suggest any engagement could take place whilst the Queen is out of the country'. She's in Australia, of course. These palace spokesmen are nothing more than paid liars.

To the dentist for a check up. I have to go back next month for a couple of fillings. Nip to Marita's with a box of chocolates for her birthday, which was a couple of weeks ago, and sit for half an hour or so. She said she'd heard on Monday that I'd finished with Lynne. Coo, didn't that get round quickly?

Down to the Hare with Tony and Martyn at 8.30. John is in with a lad called Steve (Hudson?), & Carole, Naomi and Karen Moorhouse are in. Barry (from Smith's at Ilkley), Judith and Kathryn roll up. John says Chris hates Martyn's guts for 'pinching Karen off him'. Howls of laughter. Karen looked like a deckchair actually - all stripes. Killer. We all go the Il Trovatore in Ilkley. Quite a good night but by 1am we'd developed a 'Darby & Joan' complex. Home with Tony and I sit laughing to myself whilst he and Karen look on as if I'm raving mad.

-=-

Saturday August 28, 1976

Up at 8.30am!! Planned to see CB but changed my mind over a cup of tea. Go up to see Mama, and she sends me to Dr Ludlow to get some tablets for her pathetic back [ache]. I also go to the library and get a pile of books to entertain her while she's bedridden.

Home at 12.30 and go straight out again. This time with Dad to Morrison's. Do the week's shopping and after lunch the two of us go down to 69 Silverdale Dr where we get on with the decorating. I rub down and sandpaper the lounge window and undercoat it. John comes in just as we are leaving to inspect our efforts. He stands around like the 1st Duke of Marlborough watching the progress of the building of Blenheim Palace.

Home at 7o'clock and after a hurried bath I go down to the Hare with Lynn & David. Lynn sitting on my knee in the [Triumph] Spitfire. See Judith and Kathryn and they have people in stitches with their quick flowing repartee and humorous chit-chat. CB and I go into the tap room and ring to book a taxi to collect us from the 'Upstairs, Downstairs' disco at the Stoney Lea. She gets pissed and tells me that she wants to go to bed with me. She always says that when I'm involved with another woman.

Tony and his 'latest' [girl] from Hertfordshire come in to the Hare at 10 o'clock, and they take CB, Carol Smith and me to the British Legion in Ilkley where we pass a hysterical hour waiting for Martyn. Up to the Stoney Lea at midnight with Martyn, CB and Carol S in a taxi, and don't remember all that much about the next couple of hours. CB and I are together all the time, and I feel revoltingly guilty, deceitful and unpleasant. I bet Lynn and Dave have something to say in the morning because I had the distinct feeling that disaproving glances were coming my way.

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Thursday April 8, 1976

Helen Lockyer, 22. She is getting married on Spring Bank Holiday Monday at the end of May and is departing from our midst to reside in Gloucester for the rest of her married life. Sad when people from 'our circle' marry and depart. It seems to be catching on.

Even June Bottomley is engaged to be married. Chris and Christine saw her in Horsforth last Friday night and she gave them a flash of her ring. He's an accountant or something. I wish her all the luck in the world anyway, because I will always be very fond of her even if she did muck me about all those years ago - well, two actually.

Out with Mum and Dad to the Hare & Hounds. Meet Carole outside and Helen and Shirley inside. John comes alone at about 9 o'clock. I get a little canned trying to keep up with Papa, who is working at 10 o'clock. Quite a merry night it turns out to be. Judith R and Kathryn walked in at 10. J came back from Birmingham on Sunday and the break with Terry is for good I think. Kathryn brings me home in her mini and we - the three of us -have a coffee until after midnight.

-==-

Thursday July 17, 1975

Another wet and humid day. Busy at work, though I can say Kathleen's been much more cheerful since her holiday.

Sarah and I went into town at lunchtime and I bought a pair of clogs for £6.99. When I got them home only Lynn seemed to like them, and Mum wasn't very talkative at all really. I don't know what is the matter with her lately, because one day she's a bundle of happiness and others she can be nasty and uncooperative and spiteful. Is it her age perhaps? I always thought that women didn't change, as it were, until they were 45 or 50 or so. However, I'm no authority on it.

Sarah bought a pair of knee-length socks and a pair of plimpsolls. We had a quick one in Whitelocks before returning to the grindstone. A wonderous thing that girl is.

At 8.45 tonight Dad drove me down to the Hare for my appointment with Caroline. I don't think anything about her at all, and was quite repulsed by her when she hooted with laughter tinged with mockery at the fact that I'd failed my driving test twice. Admittedly, she's quite attractive, but beauty is only skin deep. After standing with Caroline for ten minutes I spy Judith R with Kathryn. They stand with us until 10.30 along with Jimmy Elkington and a drunken Jehovah's Witness. Caroline won't let me buy her a drink, and we don't speak. I go back to Judith's for a coffee and chat with her and Kathryn until 1.30. Walk home, and it was quite fine.

-=-

Friday June 6, 1975

Hot, tropical day. Is summer really here at last?

Not wanting to bore you, I'll just say that the UK is staying in the Common Market after a massive majority of the people voted 'yes' in yesterday's first referendum. That's all I'm saying on the subject.

Down to the Hare as usual. Sit with Judith R and Kathryn until someone, I think it was Carol S, informs me that Christine is in the vicinity, and what's more, she's finished with Gary. I hurry to her side and discover that this is true, but she says they'll be back together when she's been transferred into town. Mary, a friend of hers is in for the night, and John shows interest in her until he discovers she is a married woman with an eighteen month old babe. Aaarghh! They depart at 10.30 and I fall for the charms of Shirley once again. We go to Wikis, along with John, where we remain until the usual hour of 2am. She drags us back to her friends place on Tranmere, Chris Hales too, until the unearthly hour of 4am. The sun was coming up in the sky and the birds were singing when we finally made our way home.

Shirley is quite a stunning piece, but she's 15. I feel like a child molester being near her. _____________________________________________________-.

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