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.

Friday June 23, 1978

A damp, miserable day. Passed a happy, solitary afternoon with the photo files of the Duke of Windsor. Some are amazing and revealing. We have one which appeared in the YP in August, 1936 of the King (as he then was) on holiday abroad with 'a party of friends', and the picture editor has simply and ruthlessly cut off Wallis Simpson when he marked up the image for publication.

Met Jacq at 5:30on Wellington Street and we got a train to Pudsey arriving at 6:20. To Auntie Mabel's. Cousin Jackie is also there for tea ~ it was marvellous to see her. She was thinner. The conversation was tense because we didn't mention Uncle Jack, who is dying in agony from cancer.

Jacq seemed to hit it off with Auntie Mabel. We all demolished a massive salad together. The traditional hysteria over old photographs followed and by 9:30 we had gone through Auntie Mabel's entire life (pictorially). All very nostalgic.

At 9:30 Jacq, Jackie and I set off for home and had a couple of drinks at The Sun in Stanningley before I deposited Jacq onto a Leeds bus.

At 11 Jackie with her boyfriend, Peter, came back to Pine Tops for a few drinks and a chat with 'Auntie Nora'. On the journey home she said "you know Dad is very ill, don't you?" and I said how sorry I was, but isn't it futile trying to find the right words?

-=-

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.

-==-

Thursday November 18, 1976

I feel a great sense of boredom hanging over me. No, not boredom, but something similar. Although I haven't seen Lynne since Monday [and then it was only for ten minutes] I have not missed her one bit. In fact, sometimes she annoys me intensely. Whys is this? Am I being unreasonable? When will I know I've met the right lady? Can I feel love, or am I to be denied it forever? _____________. Is Lynne going to have to go? Am I a swine? Oh God! I'm such a mixed up sod. It's as though millions of my brain cells have refused point blank to develop along with the others, so that whilst in many ways I am fully mature when it comes to Lynne Mather I might as well be a Louis XVI commode. The only thing I can do is carry on as usual and see what develops.

Mum and Dad go see John and Maria at 8pm and I'm at home alone until 9pm. Play records at full volume thinking of who to ring with the hope of nipping out for a drink or two. No developments in this field. Mum comes home with a bottle of wine and crate of Guinness. Dad is on duty at 10 and so Mum and I sit and chat until nearly midnight. Bed at 12 with 'Edward VIII'.

News: I have bought a denim jacket with a hood. Mum's reaction was: "Are men supposed to wear things like that?" It doesn't deter me though. Other news: Miss Heckmondwike is the new Miss World.

-==-

Wednesday November 10, 1976

Down to the Hare with Tony. Joined by Judith and Kathryn and 'Alan', Judith's paramour, a revolting young man with funny eyes. However, who am I to question the weird ways of true love? I can be far too critical at times.

CB is in with her revolting young man too. She's been a little cool since she formed this recent relationship and it's obvious to me that he doesn't like me one bit. However, I'm not going to worry.

Read 'Edward VIII' by Frances Donaldson. My great admiration for him has waned over the years. In 1972, at the time of his death, I thought he had been terribly wronged. But now I don't know. A king cannot allow his personal feelings to govern his actions. But all the same, he should have kicked Baldwin in the bollocks.

-==-

Tuesday November 9, 1976

Not a particularly historic day by any means. Not a particularly energetic one either and if you think I'm going downstairs for a bottle of ink you've got another thing coming. [The fountain pen dried up after 'by any means' and the rest was completed in biro].

Ring Tony at 7.30. He isn't in. He rings me 10 minutes later and we chat about nothing of importance. He's found a new love by the name of Deborah or something. He's coming up here tomorrow night.

No contact with Lynne today. Don't worry though, we're still very good friends. Write to Glen in Stockport and assure him that he and Dave Glynn can come here any time. Next weekend may be a good idea. We shall see anyway.

Read 'Edward VIII' by Lady Donaldson tonight. How many books dedicated to him have I read? Each one alters my opinion. No doubt about it he was an extremely complex fellow. Freda Dudley Ward played a bigger part in his life than I thought.

Bed at 11.15. Having a half day on Friday to getmy hair cut. Weekend without Lynne. No doubt this will signify a night of debauchery at the Stoney Lea.

-==-

Tuesday November 2, 1976

Busy evening. to the library at 7 o'clock to get 'Edward VIII' by Lady Donaldson, the only complete biography in existence of the Duke of Windsor, I think. Whilst I'm in the library Mama goes to John & Maria's to collect some washing [Maria's machine having become incapacitated over the weekend.] I'm collected at 7.45 and on arriving home I'm informed that Tony's been on the phone. I ring and he comes up at 8 with his washing too [not for Mum though]. We go down to Ilkley and he bungs his dirty undies and things into the laundrette and we go across to the Crescent pub for a pint or two. Tragedy strikes however, because Tony's washing comes out of the machine in a far worse state than it was before it went in. A little man with a floor cloth tells us that his wife, Freda, thinks that the machine used by Tony is knackered and out of order. A fine thing to tell us after the deed has been done. But in good spirits we go to the Hare & Hounds where we find Judith, Kathryn, Richard Wellock and Pauline [you know who she is. We call her Winifred/Mildred who Tony quite fancies]. Tony seems attracted to Judith. Is she the follow-up of Miss Akroyd?

Back at 11 o'clock and we watch 'Kojak' on the BBC. He goes half an hour later and I'm up until 1am watching the start of the U.S presidential election thing. Come on Ford - you can do it!

-==-

Tuesday August 10, 1976

Bored at the YP and leave at 12. A very hot day and I'm home an hour later after struggling up the lane in putrifying heat. Have a sandwich with Mum in deckchairs in the front garden. Go down to Guiseley Library at 2. Get two books for self and one for Mum. 'The Grand Duke's Woman' by Pauline Gray, about the brother of Tsar Nicholas II of Russia and his morganatic wife. It's so good that when I get home at 3 I sit on the lawn and read 100 pages. Dad sits nearby in a deckchair snoozing. The sun is extremely hot and I scowl continually. Must get some sunglasses. The other book is 'Eva and Adolf' by Glenn Infield [sic]. Hitler doesn't particularly interest me but I thought I'd broaden my knowledge for once.

Ring Lynne at Burley-in-W but I'm told she's off until Thursday. Oh I remember her telling me now. Will ring Thornton-le-Dale tonight.

News: I have no objections to the Arabs purchasing the Dorchester [Hotel], London's Post Office Tower, the Victoria & Albert Museum, and the National Gallery, but I draw the line when it comes to Fort Belvedere. The Duke of Windsor's favourite home - where he abdicated - is now the home of an Arab businessman! It's disgusting and Gerald Lascelles ought to be thoroughly ashamed of himself. What next?

Read in the garden until 5 o'clock and then retire inside for tea with the family. Spend all night reading about poor Grand Duke Michael and his wife. Finish the book - all 200 pages. The fate of the Russian Royal Family is fascinating. Did they die in the cellar as it is supposed, or is the Tsarina working as a cleaner in a newsagent's shop down the Old Kent Road? We shall probably never know.

-==-

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.

--==--

Thursday January 9, 1975

Go to work despite the fact that I'm not too brilliant yet. They are all surprised to see me. Kathleen had given up hope of seeing me before Monday. Derek Naylor, one of our beloved feature writers comes into the office and asks "who would be on the throne now if the Duke of Windsor hadn't abdicated?" I am astounded beyond all description. How can anybody not know the answer to that? Look at it logically, it cannot be that hard. King Edward VIII doesn't abdicate in December, 1936 and goes on to reign until death catches up with him May 28, 1972. Having no legitimate issue, the throne would then pass to his next brother, the Duke of York, who had unfortunately died in 1952, leaving two daughters, Elizabeth & Margaret. So the Crown would have devolved upon the elder daughter, the 46-year-old Elizabeth. Answer: Yes, the present Queen would have succeeded in 1972 instead of 1952.

A busy afternoon in the office. A chap from Leicester CID rings me with a weird request. He tells me that a man died in Leicester yesterday from injuries sustained in an accident he had in May, 1937, whilst installing decorations in a Wakefield street for the festivities celebrating the coronation of King George VI. After half an hour rummaging through the YPs for May 1937 I failed to find anything relevant. 

Christine rang again today. This sudden rush of attention from Miss Braithwaite is certainly of a heart-rending quality. Her sudden freedom is a novelty I suspect, and now that she can ring as many males as she likes in the shortest possible time I suppose it gives her a boost. Understandable really.

Home on the 55 with Sarah. Lynn is unusually nice at tea time and she can be beautifully pleasant when she tries, but as the poem goes 'when she's good, she's very very good, but when she's bad she's horrid'.

Go with Denny to the Hare & Hounds at 9 - walking from Pine Tops. Have a few drinks. To her horror I tell her that Lorraine's wedding day, June 14, is the Queen's official birthday and the Trooping of the Colour. Devastated we scrap our plans and begin over again.

-==-

Wednesday December 11, 1974

James II abdicated 1688. An absolutely perishing day. By the way things are going I forsee Bing Crosby's dream about a white Christmas coming true.

Eileen and I go shopping at lunchtime. We drift around the centre of town in agonising cold and get fish and chips from a little place near the Corn Exchange. Come back to the YP after an hour and with nothing to show for it.

Pleasant afternoon with Sarah. It certainly seems ages since we were in bed together that night at the Johnson residence - and our relationship is degenerating into a mediocre sort of thing. May have better luck with her at Christmas.

38 years ago today King Edward VIII renounced the throne, in order to have his way with Wallis Simpson. Every other book published this year is either on the subject of the Duke of Windsor or the Royal Family since 1917.

A rumpus in the Press about the Prince of Wales spotted at an X-certificate film 'Percy's Progress' at a London cinema. His Royal Highness is reported to have told the usherette that he had 'enjoyed it very much'. And we are all informed that he devoured an ice-cream in the interval. The film deals with a man who has had a penis transplant, and is a follow-up to 'Percy' a good film of a few years ago. A cartoon in the Daily Mail this morning implies that Mary Whitehouse wants a referendum on the monarchy, following this plebian act by our beloved heir.

John and I go to the Hare & Hounds with Mum & Dad, where we consume an excessive amount of alcohol. Following this we move on to the White Horse at Burley-in-Wharfedale, where cousin Dorothy resides. Unfortunately, she's having a night off, and we spend the last hour supping ale.

-==-

Tuesday December 10, 1974

Edward VIII abdicated 1936. Long day at the YP but enjoyable. As I came back from lunch Janice 'the Formidable' Beaumont, was on the phone from hospital announcing that she'd been delivered of a daughter yesterday morning. Sarah was thrilled to bits, but I can't raise any excitement at Mrs Beaumont's bundle of news. Janice was a bitch, and I can't say I miss her at all.

Meet Lynn and Alison on the bus and we are caught up in a hail storm on Hawksworth Lane. Have liver for tea and then do absolutely nothing for the remainder of the evening.

Whilst shopping in Leeds today I saw a good book entitled 'The Royal House of Windsor'. I'd love to start a book collection. In fact I'm more than tempted. I also got a new diary for next year. Sarah says she's kept a diary since the age of 9. You all know now that I write very little of interest here, but I keep a constant and cronological flow at least. As I've said before I'm no Samuel Pepys.

The YP and I had something in common this morning. An article quoted King Farouk from 1951 saying it was gradually becoming a true fact. I quoted King Farouk yesterday on the same subject of declining and toppling thrones. Clever boy, Michael. Clever boy.

-==-

Monday June 3, 1974

George V born 1865. Edward VIII married Mrs Simpson, 1937. Laura's birthday but we don't celebrate it. It is now June 20, and I can't remember what actually happened today.

-==-

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.

-==-

Sunday March 10, 1974

2nd in Lent. Edward VII married Alexandra, 1863. Prince Edward born 1964. Wake up at 8.20 on the sofa in the dining quarters of a strange house. The mother of my host thrusts a weak, milky coffee onto my lap and laughs at my apparent lack of awareness of time, place, month or year. Vic piles me into a car and at 8.45 and I am standing in the bleak bus station at Ilkley. One of Andy's pals joins me on a 63 and I stagger home to be in time for breakfast. Mum thinks I am mad and Dad simply laughs at my obvious vitality.


'Jealous Mind' Alvin Stardust.

-==-

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. --==--

Monday December 10, 1973

Abdication of King Edward VIII, 1936. Miss Went is away for two days and a relaxed atmosphere prevails at the YP. Little Janice is far too domineering in her attitude to me - I'll put her in her rightful place before very long.

Praise be to God in Heaven! It's happened. The Burtons are back together again. Poor Liz was wheeled out of hospital by a jubilant Richard, and the couple flew to Rome to spend Christmas with Sophia Loren. This really does go to show that true love always finds a way. Liz said she'd separated from Richard because 'we love each other too much'. Eh?

Poor Mark Phillips is in bed and not with Princess Anne it seems. The poor boy has gastro-entiritis. Must be all that South American food he's been getting. Poor chap.

-==-