Showing posts with label margaret phillips. Show all posts
Showing posts with label margaret phillips. Show all posts

20131213

Monday November 20, 1978

________________. Dave and I left Stockport at 12 for Manchester. We had a drink at the Paddy's Goose pub and at 1:30 I left for Leeds. Got to Leeds at 3pm and I attempted to phone Carole at work. The bloody coins wouldn't go in the slot & I couldn't get through to her. Afterwards I went by bus to Menston and delivered a birthday card to her house. Margaret Philips spotted me and she kept me talking for 10 minutes or so. She says Carole is having a 21st birthday party at the Cow & Calf on Friday. "We didn't think she'd live to see another one, Michael," she said. No, neither did I.

Tonight: Christine and Doreen came at 8:30 and we went to the Shoulder of Mutton and then the Fox and Hounds. The old bitch of a landlady at the Fox wouldn't cash a cheque for Christine and we all had a heated argument on the subject. The girls threatened to resign, &c &c.

At 10:30 we went to the Elmer. The place was absolutely packed with Jill's friends, and we knew most of them. Carole was there looking gorgeous. She was with the nurse she met whilst in the infirmary. She thanked me for the birthday card and then disappeared with Mick Lynch. CB and I had a lengthy discussion about Carole. She had no idea how I felt about her. Tony, Pete M and Chris were there. They say John Grady is coming over in a couple of weeks.

Christine and I played at clowns and, to emphasise the point, she poured a full glass of cider down the front of my underpants. How we howled with laughter.

-=-

20121207

Friday December 2, 1977

Maria has told Mum that Mrs Phillips told her on Tuesday that Carole's got a 'dark patch' somewhere. Carole is, of course, unaware of this. Shit.

Basil Rathbone.
I'm ill. Revoltingly ill. Saw Basil Rathbone in a 1939 Sherlock Holmes film and then went to bed where I got no sleep until the crack of dawn. I was sweating like Hell all night. Ghastly it was. And the dreams I kept having went on and on for what seemed like hours.








-=-

20121206

Tuesday November 29, 1977

Sarah is still ill. I realised something was afoot last week. I put her listlessness and complete lack of interest down to the fact that she had tired of my company. Maybe a bit of both.

Simon Regan.
Derek Naylor lent me Simon Regan's new book 'Margaret: A Love Story'. Good of him. The book however is not up to much and is riddled with errors throughout. One cannot help thinking that if he can make so many errors with the known facts how far can we trust him with the juicy, gossipy bits he says are authentic? Not far if you ask me.

Went to see Carole at 2:30. Her face is still swollen slightly. She is entertaining her Mum and 'Auntie' Anne, who are kept busy making Christmas decorations. She walked me to the stairs at the end of the ward at the close of my visit. I hadn't realised just how frail she actually is. I had to support her all the way, and as we walked, arm in arm, down the long, shiny floored corridor I remarked how much it was like getting married.

Maria and baby JPH came at 3:10pm. ________.The baby was rosy cheeked and had a marvellous set of teeth. He has all the attributes of a future Conservative prime minister. I told Carole I'd return on Thursday.

Tomorrow she is undergoing yet another 'milogramme' or whatever. She's got the bravest little character on earth ______.

-=-

Monday November 28, 1977

Eileen is still in hospital. Sarah is off sick. It's Kathleen's day off, and so only Carol J and I in the office. Not such a hectic day though and we refuse to panic and let the bastards get on top of us.

My unhealthy Barclaycard statement.
Jack Heath, who died on Tuesday, was cremated today. Most people went from the office just to get off work. ______.

Carole PHONED ME  this morning in marvellous spirits. It was wonderful to hear her sweet voice on the blower. I promise to call in and see her at 2:30. She looked like her mother today. Her face was round, which she put down to the steroids that they are pumping into her each day. She is very much back to normal though and because of this her mother was half as attentive. In fact the old girl disappeared onto another ward with a mug of cocoa to visit a less fortunate patient. I asked Carole where she plans on taking me when she gets out. It triggered off the usual story about why our relationship fell down in July. She seems to think it was all my fault and we had a whispered quarrel, not wishing to have a full argument whilst she's laid up hospitalised. My God she must be improving if she can oppose everything I say! Great, isn't it? I didn't mention __________whom I'm sure is the 'nigger in the wood pile' regarding Carole and I.

I left at 3:15 say I will see her tomorrow. She doesn't allow me to give her a parting kiss on the lips because she doesn't want me going back to the YP smothered in lipstick.

Edith's aunt has died in Luton and Mum and Dad are taking the Blackwells down tomorrow for a couple of days to sort out the estate. The old dear was 87 and died suddenly the other night in her sleep. Not a nice way to go. I'd like just a tiny, little warning, I think. No long, painful illness but a gentle reminder that my time is up.

Watched a Western on the BBC and played Patience. The family sat startled as I shuffled a deck of cards.

-=-

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.

-=-

20121203

Friday November 18, 1977

Margaret Phillips phoned me this morning to say Carole had yet another milogram (if that's how it's spelt)  yesterday evening and that they have discovered something in the pit of her neck which means she'll be having more treatment next week. However, her main reason for phoning was to let me know that Mr Phillips plans to be off work all week next week so enabling both of them to be be in attendance at the hospital on afternoons, and therefor my presence at the hospital will not be required. I wouldn't wish to meet John Phillips anyway. Poor kid Carole. It is of course her 20th birthday on Sunday. I posted her a birthday card this afternoon.

Although I'm just about broke I decided to go out tonight and not to leave the homestead tomorrow. Chris collected me at 9 and we went to the Fox where we were joined by Sue and Pete and Pete M. Denise was there, being entertained by Dave Rogers, and her sister Lorraine and brother-in-law, Mick. Tony and Martyn have gone to Batley Variety Club. To be honest I don't like these variety places. In fact I'd prefer to be held hostage by Baader-Meinhof terrorists for three months than be subject to the horrors of a pissed, aged and declining 'star'. You know the sort I mean, don't you? Des O'Connor, Johnny Hackett and such like.
Oakwood Hall.

From the Fox we went to the Hare at Heaton where Wendy calls everyone 'Kenneth' - this especially suits Peter Mather. Pete met Sue (of Smith's fame), and took me to Oakwood Hall. Any normal persons would feel like a tulip, or a gooseberry, or whatever people who get in the way of young lovers are termed. I didn't feel remotely like a rhododendron. I became quite pissed up. Most of my adventures at this very exclusive club are vague and hazy, and no dialogue of the event remains in my memory at all. Pete M and his Sue came back at 2:30 for coffee and I fell asleep on the rug at 4. Waking to find them gone at 8am.

-=-

20121127

Thursday November 17, 1977

It's one o'clock on Friday morning so don't expect a John Evelyn-type of effort. I took a half day because Kathleen was getting on my nerves __________.

To pass the time whilst waiting for the start of hospital visiting time I went to look at the Stanley Spencer paintings in the Art Gallery and then, unimpressed and dejected, I went next door to study 'Burke's Presidential Families of the United States'. I laughed out loud, much to the horror of a sober gathering of students, on reading that Richard Nixon is descended from Edward III. (Aren't we all?)

Went to see Carole who wasn't quite as cheerful and looked depressed. She was wearing her engagement ring and so I presume that she and Fogarty have patched things up on Ward 26. Either that or he's given her the ring back because he thinks she's going to die. I gave her a Paddington Bear and left at 3.45. She likes me to visit. Her mum is sweet too.

Royal Albert teapot: £8.95.
Passing Schofield's (a shop) on the Headrow I spied a Royal Albert Old Country Roses teapot and forked out the £8.95 for it and carried it around town with it under my arm for a couple of hours. Got home at 5. Did nothing.

Drank a bottle of vino with Lynn and watched the Miss World competition. The title was won by Miss Bessie Braddock MP. Watched 'Rock Follies' which took me up to 12:30 when I plunged into the bath.

It's now 1:08am (Blimey, it's taken me 8 minutes to fill in this page).

-=-

20121125

Monday November 14, 1977

Went to see Carole at 2.30 in a downpour. Managed to keep quite dry though. She was just as cheerful but looked flushed. Her mother says Carole's temperature is up to 120. I had her in stitches about something and she chaffed me and said I should not get her excited. Mrs Phillips was quite human but insisted as referring to me as 'Peter'. I told Carole all about Jacqui.

Nureyev: homosexual?
Tony, Chris and Pete had visited her over the weekend, and so she'd already been told of Jacqui's visit. ________. She is an Angel. I told her I will write and it gave her a good deal of pleasure - I think. I am going back to visit her on Thursday. It's so wonderful to see her. Three weeks ago I thought she had gone forever.

See in the EP that 'Valentino' is on (at the cinema) in Leeds. Sarah and I are going the week after next - probably Nov 24. Rudolph Nureyev is not homosexual, is he? As I'm always telling Sarah , you can't have big, butch swans can you?

Britain's firemen went on strike today for the first time ever. Let's hope that the home of Mr Rees, the Home Secretary, is alight tonight. Other important news: Princess Anne is showing no signs of delivering Master Phillips into the world. Today would have been apt, the 29th birthday of the food-poisoned Prince of Wales and the Princess and Capt Phillips's fourth wedding anniversary.

-=-

20120922

Saturday September 24, 1977

Out of bed at 9.30. Yes, half past nine. I went to Guiseley for a large family-size tin of Eno's Liver Salts and a bottle of orange barley water. Home by 10 feeling much better for my walk. David and Dad were on the drive at work on the Toyota.

Jacq & Joy on Ilkley Moor.
I was commanded to an audience with Mama. It's the usual story. Complaints about things that go pop, bang, and what have you, in the night, or perhaps I should say early morning. She was quite adamant this time about orgies, and future orgies in hours of darkness, and so pained that I vow never again to bring a living soul home after a night out. Mama, whilst sipping her morning tea, threatened terrorist action. When angered I suppose she could make the Bader-Meinhoff gang resemble the Wombles. I went cold with fear.

I have an amusing tale to recount to you. Do you recall M___P___? The mama of Carole? Yes, now you do. Well, it seems she's been caught altering price tickets at Presto again. Terribly sad I know, but there it is. Anyhow, it came to pass that Susan was reading of this incident, and peering over the top of the local paper she said quite seriously to Mama: "My God. That woman must be a nymphomaniac".

Jacqui and Joy came at about 3.30 and we went to Ilkley Moor where I leapt around with a camera. We made spectacles of ourselves before moving to Bolton Abbey for further revelries. The girls are mad. Truly insane. They have never before been north of Luton and are impressed by the rolling greenery of Wharfedale, but I make a terrible guide.

They came back for tea with the family and then we ventured back to Leeds to get ready for John's party at Oakwood (Hall). We didn't leave Leeds until 9 o'clock and the girls and I went to the Old White Horse at Bingley with Sue and Peter. Tony and Martyn joined us. Tony said he wasn't going to Oakwood but on seeing Joy he changed his mind. We got to Oakwood for about 10.30. John and Maria came with Chris and Pete M and Steve Hudson. Joy pinched John for a dance. Jacq and I danced all night. Well, until 2. _______.


-=-

20120214

Wednesday February 23, 1977

Ash Wednesday. Nothing much to talk about other than politics. The Devolution Bill was defeated in the Commons yesterday and I had the misfortune to watch Margaret Thatcher discussing this on News at Ten. Let us pray to God she will never get to No 10, Downing Street. (Does my politics confuse you all? I don't aim to deceive you in any way, but please remember I don't vote or support 'personalities'. I shall always cast my vote with the Tories but as far as I'm concerned Margaret Thatcher is as capable of forming the next government as Queen Victoria Eugenie of Spain. So that settles that problem.) -=-








David Glynn.
I feel relieved about the content of this diary. If you lot think you're being badly done to enduring my scribblings, just consult the published journals of Evelyn Waugh. Positively sickening they are. You ought to take my volumes round to Sir George Weidenfeld and get them published. I am doing far better than the depraved Mr Waugh. Sadly however, I'm not a world-famous author or leading wit, am I? Well, not yet anyway. I have been notified by Papa that Mrs Margaret Phillips, mother of Carole, of ex-relationship with the author fame, appeared in court at Otley last Friday and was fined £40 or so for ______. I always said that Mrs P was a silly cow. Tony rings at 8. He and Martyn are off out with Miss Moorhouse and Naomi to the wine bar and he wants to know if I am endulging. I say 'no' because it's Barclaycard pay-up or bust day tomorrow. Dave G also phoned from Stockport to say he'll try to make it on April 2. He rang on Sunday when I was at the YP and again yesterday when I was at John & Maria's. Good lad is David.

20110920

Sunday October 24, 1976



19th after Trinity. United Nation's Day. Up at a late hour again and devour one of Mrs Mather's nice breakfasts. Lynne and I then set to and wash her car. One hell of a job. In the midst of this we go for a walk around Thornton-le-Dale parish church and then for a few miles down a quiet lane to a place the name of which escapes me [Dalby?] Back at 4pm to complete the polishing of the car. A lovely, autumn afternoon.

After [the] evening meal we watch TV all night but my allergy to the cat and dog renders me completely useless. Drink whisky but I'm so blocked up I can barely taste it. Bed at 12.30. Took a sneaky photo of Lynne compiling her diary sitting in bed. Should prove funny when results come through. I always enjoy muyself at Lynne's parents' house. When I compare them to Mr & Mrs Phillips it's quite incredible. Total opposites. Poor Carole. With a Mum & Dad like that why bother reading horror stories?

It's rumoured in the Sunday Express that the Duchess of Gloucester is pregnant. We shall have to wait and see.

-==-

20101116

Tuesday May 4, 1976

I got up at 9.30 and Chris and Christine came at 10.30 and persuaded me to go to Scarborough after all. I am miserable and upset about last night, but C & C show me no sympathy and I am soon quite cheerful.

Scarborough was quite pleasant and we stayed until about 5pm. Scampi and chips at a pub at Stamford Bridge and home in pouring rain at about 10.30.

A terrible thing has happened. Carole made an attempt on her life this morning and was saved from death by her brother when he came home for lunch. She slashed her wrists.

Mum told me the news when I came in. Mrs P phoned to say C has had 18 stitches in one wrist and 15 in the other. Peter definately saved her life. I didn't speak to Mrs P but she told Mum that Carole would like to see me tomorrow afternoon. I will never go. How can I meet somebody who is quite prepared to have her death on my conscience for the rest of my life? The suicidal person will never get sympathy from me. I am shattered all the same. Mum is in a terrible state. Traumatic day.

-==-

20101115

Monday April 12, 1976

Up at 7.15 and battle through a large breakfast with Lynn. Unusual for me to eat on a morning but if I'm up early I can always manage to put away a few loaves of bread and nine and a half tons of marmalade.

The second Monday in succession without a lift from Jim. Meet Gillian Upton at the 55 bus stop and travel with her. She tells me she climbed Peny-Ghent (if that's how you spell it) - yesterday. How she's changed since breaking with Naomi. __________.

Carole rings me at 1.30 to say she's made it up with the Old Hag. I never will though. Carole is Mrs P's daughter, and all that, but why should I make polite chit chat with someone with whom I have nothing in common? Get lost, Mrs Phillips. That's what I say.

Leap in the bath and watch a revolting Raquel Welch film before retiring to bed at 11.20. Carole's visiting her old pal Deborah tonight. Let's hope this cooling off business catches on. No wedding bells for Michael L. Rhodes.

-==-

Sunday April 11, 1976


Palm Sunday. Carole's Mum rang at 12.30 and spent half an hour or so pulling our family to pieces and putting her evil spoke in in general. I was listening on the extension and was amused to hear that someone has told Mrs P that I'm 'taking Carole for a ride' and that I'll drop her at the slightest excuse. She's a miserable, lying old bag and isn't fit to inhabit the earth. If I was any sort of man I'd go down to her so-called house and stick the boot in.

Later: Carole, Mum, Dad and I go down to the Commercial. A few drinks and a beef sandwich. Carole has one of her 'Sunday faces' and although I have great sympathy for her predicament I do not love her and never will.

At 2 we go to John & Maria's. Molly says that Mrs P rang last night to complain about Carole. Why ring Molly? She, Mrs P, rambled on about having a growth on her lung and that she'd been ordered to stop work and that Carole hadn't given her any board money for eleven weeks! Carole is just about demented.

Take Carole to the bus at 6.30 and go home to tea. I will have to remind Carole that things aren't going to get any more serious between us, and that we should cool off somewhat. Marriage is not for me. I reminded Carole this afternoon that this stalemate is unchangeable.

-==-

20101109

Saturday March 20, 1976


A joint vendetta by Mrs Phillips and 'Cocky' her parrot, bring me out of my slumbers at the crack of dawn. I am very much afraid that Carole's mother isn't all that she should be, and this is blatantly obvious, when one sees her rushing about the house at 10 o'clock on a Spring morning working herself into a frenzy of excitement due to the fact that a 1967 'Man from U.N.C.L.E' film is on YTV in ten minutes time.
Horribly insane.

It is a beautiful morning but I feel shattered and my head is thumping like the clappers. At 12 o'clock Carole and I get the Bradford bus. I get off at Hawksworth Lane and head home to see the beloved Queen Mother who must be wondering in despair as to my whereabouts. Carole goes on to Bradford to buy me a bomber jacket for my birthday.

Mum was concerned at my whereabouts because she knows I never sleep at Carole's but she was soon calmed. I retired to bed until 4.20 and awake feeling greatly refreshed. Peter arrived to woo Sue and I congratulated him on his 18th birthday.

This evening Mum, Dad, Lynn, Dave, Sue, Pete, Carole and I go off for a meal to a restaurant in Headingley which is nice but hardly worth venturing all that distance for when one can enjoy virtually the same meal on our own doorstep - namely the Hare & Hounds.

Carole stays the night and beds down in the girls room. David sleeps in the dining room in a sleeping bag and Peter has the bottom bunk in my room.

-=-

20101103

Wednesday March 3, 1976


Ash Wednesday. Mum and Dad went to Kirby Malzeard yesterday and offered the owner £28,000 for the place. He's had an offer of £32,000 from a York family and £30,000 from an unknown person or persons. Despite all this Dad is still confident that we might get the Henry Jenkins.

I have done nothing about John's stag party which is set for March 11. No doubt we'll end up at Cinderella's, but the mini bus wants booking, &c.

It will be weird when John is no longer at home and a bedroom all to myself for the first time in twenty years will take some getting used to.

Home at 5 o'clock. A letter from Denise awaits my attention. She has confirmed the cancellation of John and Chris's booking for the holiday and has put quite a funny letter together. The thought of having to pay up for the holiday at the end of next month is horrifying. I have saved up £10 so far which, if nothing else, is a beginning. Lynn rings Denise at about 8 o'clock and I also have a quick word with her. She's coming to Lynn's party on Saturday & is thrilled at the prospect of meeting Uncle Harry once again. She hasn't seen him since September '74 in Windsor.

Carole rings. She's having more bother with Mrs Phillips. Evidently, the old cow went visiting a neighbour who is sick and offered to do all her washing and ironing. The saintly Lady Phillips returned home weighed down with fiflthy underwear and other sundry items of a laundry nature, but instead of doing it herself she dumped the lot on Carole's bed and made her wash and iron it before giving her any tea. Carole says, quite rightly, that she doesn't mind washing her own knickers, but she cannot see the fun in laundering old Mrs McCaffrey's - especially on an empty stomach.

See the Barry Humphries Show on BBC2 at 9.10 which is hilarious. Come to bed at 10.30 or so in order to avoid the 1976 US Presidential Election campaign on the BBC. It seems likely that Jean Harlow and Shirley Temple will be running for the Democratic nomination and the late Walt Disney is becoming a worry for President Ford.

-==-

20101101

Monday February 16, 1976


Bitter cold day but sunny all the same. At work by 8.30 and manage to finish everything by about 1 o'clock. Carole rang me at 11.15 and asked if I want to meet her in town for lunch. We meet at one on Commercial Street and buy a few bags of crisps and I have a tongue sandwich from Lewis's, and we go sit in the part near the church opposite the Merrion Centre. We laugh and throw food for the pigeons and clown around like eight year-olds. I have to be back at work at about 2pm and she has to meet the Dowager Lady Phillips at C & A - who is suddenly conversing with her daughter again after what seems like weeks of silence and animosity. I bump into Auntie Eleanor and cousin Jackie whilst leaving C & A. Auntie was her usual sarcastic self and Jackie tells me she's to be a bridesmaid for a friend of hers on March 13. ________________.

Home at 5.20 and tell Mum about my meeting. Weddings appear to be at the bottom of most family disputes & squabbles and I think that when my turn comes along, if ever, I'll run away to Gretna Green and have it done with little ceremony and with no aunts or uncles to be seen anywhere.

Have salad for tea and leap into the bath. John rushes off to decorate a bedroom at the Macdonald seat & I marvel at his vitality. Since the day his intended marriage was made public he's gone completely scatty. Out every night visiting priests and painting bedroom ceilings in nice pale yellow for the little bundle of joy expected in September. I'm glad I'm not in his shoes. Fatherhood is all very well, but I'd like to be grey and smoking a pipe by then.

-==-

Sunday February 15, 1976


Septuagesima. Woke up at 11.30 with a hangover. I must have been pissed last night.____.

I don't like the way Christine treats Carole at times. No love is ever lost between them. One thing that's particularly grating is the way Christine insists on calling Carole "Fanny" in a very cold manner.

Marlene, Frank & the children come round after lunch and they bring John a little engagement gift.

Carole rang at 2pm and we went to see 'The Return of the Pink Panther' at Leeds with Susan and Peter at 5pm. The film is hilariously funny. Peter Sellers' accent is brilliant. We got a bus home - the the White Cross - and the four of us devoured fish and chips at Harry Ramsden's. Carole felt as though one of her headaches was coming on and I deposited her on a bus homeward. I returned home in a descending fog.

Poor Carole is still having parent trouble and it all stems from the business about me being 'tight-fisted'. The Phillipses are funny buggers and I have long harboured the opinion that Lady Phillips is deranged and psycopathic, but it's hardly my place to go into the old hag's faults here in these pages. She is so horrible that she would in fact make a perfect mother-in-law.

Bed at 12 o'clock midnight.

-==-

20101030

Saturday February 14, 1976


Valentine's Day. Get up at 11.30 and give Carole her Valentine's card in person. Mine hasn't arrived and she's worried about the whereabouts of it. It arrives in the afternoon. I also received a card from Christine, which is a birthday card for a one-year old and it has me in stitches. Get no others, but it's two better than last year at least which proved Valentinecardless.

Mum and Dad go out after lunch and John messes about with his car whilst Maria, Lynn and Sue go bridesmaid dress purchasing. Mrs Macdonald has taken it upon herself to decide what everybody is wearing at the forthcoming wedding.

Down to the Hare tonight after collecting Carole from Oakridge Castle. Mrs Phillips is a bit ratty about Carole not going home last night but at least she's speaking which is a gigantic step towards re-establishing diplomatic relations.

After the Hare Carole, Christine B and Chris and I go to Bingley and then up to Oakwood Hall which is a laugh. I get rather pissed. The four of us pile back to Pine Tops for coffee and a riotous session follows in the lounge where CB takes a fancy to Mum's new sheepskin rug. Mama is roused and shouts down saying "it sounds like a fairground". Not another word was spoken.

-==-

20101029

Monday February 9, 1976


A brighter day and I go to work without that revolting, black imitation leather coat for the first time since the bleak, bone-chilling winter set in - all those months ago.

John & Maria went down to the Silverdale estate again today and put down a deposit, or something, on a house there. I am puzzled though because John came back saying that the builders cannot install central heating in the property until July, when Maria will be 18. I fail to see what Maria's age has to do with the plumbing arrangements. The house won't be ready until May/June, & so they'll have to live with Jim & Molly for a couple of months or so.

Stuart rings from York to say that Brummels will let us all in on February 20, if I want to arrange a select coach party for that date._______. To think that Phyllis Whitethighs, heir to the Whitethigh's chain of supermarkets will be engaged in just over two weeks time! Everyone seems to be falling to this dreaded disease which seems to snatch away young people in the prime of life. Surely some cure could be found to rid the land of it? Tighter quarantine laws would help for a start, because this 'engagementomania' as it is scientifically termed, is very widespread on the Continent and the wops are somehow carrying it over with them on the Channel ferries and hovercrafts.

Carole rings at about 8.45. The Old Man and Lady Phillips are still not speaking to her and she's obviously upset by it. Mum thinks they may be pining for an invitation to attend the wedding of the decade.

Saw Susan George in quite a good film and (to) bed at something after midnight.

-==-

Sunday March 25, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn British Summer Time begins 3rd Sunday in Lent Bacon sandwiches and the Sunday Telegraph. Fuss about the Queen's visit to ...