Thursday October 19, 1978

King John died seven hundred and sixty two years ago today, and blimey, Newark Castle, Notts, appears to have been the fortunate spot selected for this event.

Jacq and I had a meeting at the Ostlers.

Margaret and Jim tonight again. A very drunken occasion. For some daft reason Mama was drinking Pernod, and she and Jim were staggering by 11 o'clock. Pete joined us too, and he was worse for wear. A burst of dancing broke out in the dining room, but I declined Mama's frequent invitations to get up off my backside and 'groove it'.

Obviously, after the guests had departed in the small hours Mum was taken ill. Her reaction to the massive quantity of Pernod was to do what Lord Nelson always did when he was aboard HMS Victory. Yes, she threw up.

(I bet you thought I was going to say she found an eye patch and paced up and down the bridge saying "I see no ships. Hic" Alas, no).

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Friday December 24, 1976

It's not only Christmas Eve. In fact it's also King John's 810th birthday today! Happy Birthday, Your Majesty*** Wherever you may be ... probably in a more sober frame of mind than I am now. Last night I slept in the spare room at Stuart's flat above Smith's, and he gave me a lift home at 7.30am. Dave B was sleeping in the lounge and his semi-pissed future brother-in-law made him a cup of tea and sat underneath the Christmas tree chatting with him for half an hour or so.

At the Central with Judith

Down to Leeds in the Spitfire at 8.30 - singing all the way, and my arrival at the YP creates something of a sensation. Why? Well, how many people go to work pissed up other than ___, _____, and the editor? Work is lousey and Mr Michael Rhodes can barely focus on the damned newspaper. Horrible. By 12 o'clock we, the blessed library staff, are having our usual Asti Spumante party behind the filing cabinets. It was all a bit flat. Is it true that good old Santa Claus is coming tonight?

At Pine Tops, Christmas Eve 1976

***I don't think King John was ever a 'Majesty'. He was a Lord Sovereign Highness, or something like that.


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Saturday October 19, 1974

King John died 1216. Oliver Wilson born 1893.

Up feeling sprightly at 7. Poor Lynn was taken ill late last night & does not get up with us. I have an orange juice.

Go to the YP. Home at 12.30. Spend an hour in the bath.

Marlene, Frank, and children come at 2 and stay to tea. Very disappointed at about 6.20 when I ring Lynne. We want to go to this party but nobody else wants to. Subsequently we decide not to bother going out at all & call it a day. Promise to see her on Sunday at all costs.

Mum says I can accompany her, Dad, Marlene and Frank to the Commercial, and we all go at 8.30. Back at 10 to find Lynn and Dave entertaining the kids. My powers of persuasion fail to attract Lynn and David to the idea of the party at beloved Jackie's, and when John, Carol, Andy and Linda arrive they are also unmoved at the thought of an orgy at the Woolpack. Sit by candle-light watching a revolting film starring Ann-Margret. Bed at 1 feeling very unhappy indeed.

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