Thursday April 19, 1979

_. To Leeds with Jim R bearing my red suitcase packed with nearly all my possessions. At lunchtime I bought a ticket and passed the afternoon hanging around in readiness. It was unfortunate really because the coach to Manchester didn't leave until 6pm.

I had a pleasant chat with Ursula before marching out of the office at 5:30. Slept all the way to Manchester on the boring M62 and then got a bus to Stockport arriving there at about 8pm. I managed to get lost. The statue to Queen Victoria was facing one way, and I walked in the opposite direction. Billy told me to follow the old Queen. Dave was out searching for me and so I sat at the bar in the Hollywood with a heap of tongue sandwiches and a pint of lager, chatting with Mrs Glynn. An old boy leaning on the bar was reminiscing about the British pulling out of Malta in WW2, which was really interesting. We then discussed the pros and cons of marrying for money, and we decided it was quite acceptable. I did say that the fortune would have to be considerable before I could contemplate such a move.

Dave G came in at 8:30 followed by Bill [Wright] & Garry [Barratt]. The lads seemed quiet and subdued. Neil arrived with two other Bournemouth trippers and we sat drinking ale until 11. _________.

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Tuesday March 28, 1978

Annunciation (transference)

Jacqui

Phoned Jacqui today. She isn't coming up now until next Monday. This is better I suppose because now it won't clash with Dave's weekend of sin and debauchery. She had a good Easter. Last night Chris attempted to draw information of Jacqui's move northward from me. He didn't get much. He said he could foresee 'Ding Dong Merrily on High' for us in the near future. Whether this refers to a marriage or a premature Christmas I'm unsure. ________________________. I do think a lot of our Jacq and regard her as a leading contender for my hand. But you know what I'm like. I'll probably be 80 before anyone traps me.

Winding my way home this evening I encountered the recumbent form of the Rev. Downing. He was bent tearing up dandelion leaves on Hawksworth Lane. He held me in conversation for ages on the subject of my writing. The dear old man described my 'epistle' to Naomi  accepting the invitation to her 21st birthday party as a 'brilliant piece of work'. I cowered in my modesty as he went on to say I should take up writing on a permanent basis. He asked me, midst the dandelions, why I am not a journalist. I told him it didn't appeal to me. Crikey, Bernard Shaw and Noel Coward were not NUJ members and I don't think it held them back. I said I'd like to be an author and was surprised that he didn't laugh hysterically ~ he just nodded thoughtfully and said what a good idea it was. This makes me think seriously about my 'talent' when ageing theologians and academics express delight at my shoddy, cheap, vulgar 'epistles'. I can appreciate my own friends being amused, because nobody writes these days.


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Thursday August 19, 1976

Christine Dibb's so-called 18th birthday party at the Hare & Hounds. Lynne and I go down with Susan & Peter, and we stand with Martyn, who is terribly nervous because Alison [Dixon] is coming in with her new boyfriend, John [Pinder], and Lynn & David. Al and John are staying at Pine Tops from tonight until Saturday.

Get a bit pissed and chat with Maria on the subject of marriage. She cannot understand me when I say some women are out for a good time just like lots of men are. She thinks all girls leave school and take any old job that comes along in the hope that a quick marriage will soon rescue them. I am sure that the majority of women have no such thing in mind. Take Lynne for instance. Marriage to her is millions of light years away. It would take eternity to get her down the aisle - not that I'm wanting to.

Lynn & Dave come in with Alison and John, and I'm sorry to say I do not like him at all. He even bought Martyn a drink - creepy of him to say the least, and I do not rellish sharing a bedroom with him for two nights. Home at 11.30. In bed for midnight. No sign of Lynn, Dave, Alison and John until 4.30am, when they stagger in in a drunken fashion.

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Tuesday May 11, 1976

Another boring day at work. Sick to death of the damnable place. Should I run away to sea or not? What sort of lolly are Admirals of the Fleet on at the moment?

Leave (the YP) at 4.30 and get soaked in a bloody downpour. Home for dinner with Mum, Dad, Lynn & Sue. Mum and Dad discuss family marriages and things and say they want plenty of notice before the three of us take the plunge. I assure them they need not worry about me rushing down the aisle in a hurry. I'd like to be the last one in the family to be married off - the first to arrive and the last to leave.

Don't bother reading the papers today. They're all full of trash. 'The agony of Jeremy Thorpe', &c. and 'Marion keeping vigil at husband's graveside', &c.

CB rang at 2.30 and I told her about the weekend. She was amazed that Chris took Carole out. We had a good laugh at the general state of affairs. She is still going strong with Roger. No more to be said about that.

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Saturday March 13, 1976

The wedding of the year. I was wakened at 8am by Mum. Look out of the window onto a cold, wet, damp, unhealthy scene. John stirs half an hour later and curses the rain because he wanted to clean the spitfire and make it respectable for the ensuing honeymoon.

Mum and Sue go off to have their hair done & I go over the marriage service with John, make a speech for the reception, and make myself generally presentable.

The girls are back at 10.30 whilst Lynn and Carole in the meantime are knocking back Cinzano and lemonade with gusto. I tell them that the bride may be blushing, but the bridesmaids will be belching. Sarah and Delia arrive with flowers. Susan blow-waves John's hair while he goes over the marriage service yet again.
Clad in morning suits John and I go in a Rolls Royce to the church. At the church by 12.25. Pay the organist, deal with the registrar and give Father Scannell his money. The guests arrive and by 1pm they are all seated. The bride is 20 minutes late and the priest announces dryly from the vestry door that Maria is now on the missing persons list and that she's probably changed her mind.

She comes down the aisle on the arm of her Dad and accompanied by Lynn, Sue and Elizabeth Macdonald. The service is hysterical really and old Scannell turnd it into something of a circus. He embarrassed John and upset Maria and I left the church afterwards feeling stunned that such a ridiculous 'palarva' can be called a marriage service. The signing of the register was riotous.

The reception was first class. I was on the top table next to John, and Auntie Mabel and Uncle Jack sat directly opposite. Jim Mac made a lengthy speech and I followed it up with a small one of my own. All went off marvellously well really.

Party at the Macdonald residence tonight. Masses of relatives attended and the highlights were: 1). Auntie Eleanor and Jackie having a tremendous row, 2). Jackie telling me __________________________; 3).Poor Carole getting as pissed as a newt and me having to bring her home at midnight. 4). John ringing after setting off on his honeymoon to say he'd broken down at a place near Settle and had booked in at a hotel for the night, &c.


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