Saturday November 26, 1977

Arose at 10. Mum tells me, over breakfast, that the Gloucester's baby is to be Lady Davina Elizabeth Alice Benedikte Windsor. Davina, eh? I'm not going to bother connecting the illustrious infant with a certain flaxen haired Oxfordshire maiden with big tits. The connection would be just too obvious. The young lady (the shapely blond one) is now the constant companion of young Winston Churchill's brother-in-law, Mr d'Erlanger.

Uncle Peter called in before lunch to see Mum. He was his usual boisterous self ___________.

The Black Horse.

I intended remaining by the fireside tonight but Mr Mather came up at 8 and easily persuaded me to join him and Martyn at the pub. We drank at the Black Horse at Askwith, the Black Bull at Otley and Fox and Hounds at Menston. Wendy Smith, Anne and Sue (Smith's) joined us at the Fox and the six of us went off merrily to Oakwood Hall. _______. Oakwood Hall was reminiscent of a deep jungle. The humidity was incredible. Wendy and I had a few drinks and danced together continuously. I was pissed.  Peter was with Sue (who told me in strictest confidence that she hates his guts!) and Martyn and Anne were not on friendly terms. I thoroughly enjoyed myself.  My God Wendy is a big girl! On to 21, Victoria Drive, Horsforth, with a pissed Peter. Young Chris was out until 4am with Michelle. Dirty bugger.

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Friday January 7, 1977

Lynne collects me at 8pm and we nip down to the Hare for a quickie. Chat with Simon and his lady friend and of course the intrepid Judith. She is down in the dumps about something. I fear I have let her down over the 'Pink Panther' project? Just as we're leaving the pub Dave L comes in. He's going on later to see MM and Marita and then going to 'the dogs' [racing]. To the Damn Yankee in Harrogate for a pizza. Very good as usual.

Damn Yankee, Harrogate.

Lynne is in good spirits with a new haircut and a handbag and new shoes. On to a pub in a remote spot near  Harrogate before setting out to Thornton-le-Dale. Arrive at midnight. The Mathers still have the Christmas tree up and other Xmas regalia. I am appalled at this and tell Lynne of the hideous bad luck brought down on the households and members of families who fail to remove these frivolities by Epiphany. She pales at my sombre lecture and promises to do something about it. Bed at 1am in Pete's room. He's at the Ratcliffe residence until Sunday. Didn't see Mrs M[ather] tonight. She worries me really. It depresses her so much dwelling out in the wilds of North Yorkshire.
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Sunday August 22, 1976

10th after Trinity. Lynne wakes me at 9 o'clock to say bye bye. She's wearing her new jeans and looks fantastic. I give her a peck on the lips and fall back into a coma for a couple of hours. Lynn wakes me at 11.30 to say CB is on the phone. Christine says I'm a "lazy bugger" and says it's the second time she's tried to phone today. She went out with David L last night, but says she is depressed about something. She even said she wanted to drown herself in the bath. God!

After a cooked breakfast, and clad in my new jeans, and 'winkle pickers' I go for a walk over the top and to Hawksworth village. Carole and I always walked on that path and my mind drifts back to those days. I think of last night's sighting of Carole. I remember one moment just before the end when I suddenly went cold feeling I was being watched with some intensity. I looked into the mirror behind the bar and could see Carole's eyes glued on me in the midst of the Martini and whisky optics. A horrible, sad moment.

I sit for a while on a gate and look down to Menston village and the grounds of Highroyds. The earth is so parched and un-English in appearance. Trees are brown and dead. This country has not experienced anything like this since before records were first kept 250 years ago. I take it all in because I will probably never see anything like it again.

Sit with Sue and Peter on the lawn. Lynn makes tea in readiness for Mum & Dad who get back [from Cumbria] at 7pm with cousins David and Edward [Uncle H's sons if you don't already know]. Haven't seen either of them since 1970 or so, but neither are really changed. Mum and Dad take them home to Wakefield at 8.30, but they're coming back to see us for the weekend of September 10/11.

See the film 'El Cid' until 10.30 and then watch a Bridget Bardot film until after midnight.

-==-

Saturday May 29, 1976

Wake at some God forsaken hour with excruciating pains in my left leg. Cramp, I take it to be, but on inspecting the offending limb I discover a large conglomorate mass of what can only be described as nothing but vein. I sit on the edge of my bed and sigh. Why should it be my lot to undergo the trauma of a coronary thrombosis at my time of life? I am going to die without a fight, that's for certain. Ring Maria who doesn't know whether she's going to the wedding or not in the horribly wet conditions. I have a coffee and prepare a rough draft of my last will and testament.

To Menston at 12.45 and sit in the empty Methodist chapel for 10 minutes listening to the organist bashing away heartily. George Waite's Mum sits next to me and we sing the 23rd Psalm together. Only 15 people in church including the bride and groom. Helen looked fabulous - all flimsy and feminine - in fact like a Venetian lady from the 14th or 15th century, with the Juliet-style headdress. Both look so happy and matched and were the only people present who didn't seem to notice the pouring bloody rain. Maria and Carole arrived at 12.50 and sat on the other side of the chapel to me. Carole looked pale and almost insane. Her eyes dead and lifeless. The poor kid is taking life so seriously. She's going camping with Denise and 3,000 lads this afternoon. After the wedding Maria, Carole and I call in at the Hare for a drink. Carole leaves us at 3 and the two of us walk under Maria's umberella to Harry Ramsden's for a late luncheon.

Get home at 4pm. Pete M calls at 5 o'clock when along with Chris we leave for Pateley Bridge. Get to the pub at 7 o'clock and drink until 11 with the mob. Sleep in vans on a desolate hillside (Greenhow?). A good laugh all the same.

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Wednesday May 26, 1976

Buy Helen and Graham a ridiculous pepper mill in Schofield's. Don't suppose they'll ever use the damned thing, but at least it's something.

March down the lane at 8.30pm with the pepper mill suitably wrapped in Christmas wrapping paper. Contemplate my life.

Received another letter from Carole today begging me to go back out with her under any conditions. She says if she only sees me once a month she'll be happy. She included in the photographs we had taken at Blackpool at Easter. How can she expect me to go back to her? A fool she is, and a fool she'll always be if she continues with this silly craze.

Meet Helen at 9 o'clock and we walk across to the Malt Shovel for a quick drink. (A quick four or five drinks actually.) We talk about our lives and listening to Helen's sordid history over the past three years one realises how fantastic she must feel being settled at last. She tells me that everyone should have experience of living alone, away from home and parents, before marriage is contemplated. She says home life is cushy and people have no idea how to cope on their own until they do this. I disagree on this. Look at the happy marriages that have worked between people of no previous 'domesticated' experience? Walk her home at 11 o'clock after wishing her all the luck in the world. I take my leave and walk home. A mild, tranquil night.

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Thursday April 1, 1976

April Fool's Day but hardly a foolish one. Indeed, it was a sombre and worrying day. Carole rings me this evening to say she's had a bust-up with her parents over the cost of my birthday presents. She tells me that Peter P hit her across the face as they quarrelled. I meet her off the 8.20 bus and she staggers up to our place and has a good weep in the dining room. I'm stunned by the bruises and blemishes on her face. Her right eye is completely black and her right ear bruised. She can, of course, take out a summons against the offender, but that would almost certainly mean her vacating her room at 14, Oakridge Avenue, and her financial situation prevents her from achieving this at the moment. She is greatly upset and stunned. I ask her to stay the night here. We sit up chatting until 1 o'clock.

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Sunday December 14, 1975

3rd in Advent. Up at 7.30am. Yes, your eyes are not deceiving you. I was up at 7.30 and at Carole's for 8.30.

At home I first had a boiled egg for breakfast and got myself well wrapped up for the great ordeal ahead of me. By 8.30 I was at Carole's and by 9 o'clock we'd roused the entire household.

After sitting for an hour listening to Mrs P's reminiscences of her Bermudan childhood, we set off for the bus stop. The prospect of walking to Ilkley proved unbearable and so we decided to go the idle way. We have a laugh in the garden centre in Menston and end up walking miles anyway because the buses only run once every hour on the Sabbath.

Get to Ilkley for 11.30 and immediately buy fish and chips, which are putrifying. A tour of the antique shops concludes the visit and we return to Guiseley for luncheon.

I'm in no writing mood today. I feel listless.

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Sunday November 23, 1975

Last after Trinity. A wet, horrible day. I walk down the lane after lunch to meet Carole off the 3 o'clock bus from Menston. She is a bit late and I walk about kicking leaves around pretending not to notice how unpunctual she is. I don't get too wet and feel refreshed by the gales and pounding rain. She does arrive in the end and we saunter up the lane like love birds.

Last night she lost her mother's priceless bracelet at the Cow & Calf and all hell was raised at 14, Oakridge Avenue, this morning.

We watched tv, and then John and Maria came over for tea. After tea, watched tv again. Nothing like a bit of variety, eh?

John obviously doesn't have my great willpower or strength of character because he and Maria made off to the Hare after part 2,000,000 of 'Upstairs, Downstarirs'. We all grit our teeth and fought our way through the news, eighteen war films and finally a Bette Davis epic.

Dave took Carole home with Peter at midnight or so, and I crawled away to bed.

Have I mentioned already that Kathleen found a 1956 Burke's Peerage in a cupboard at the office and I am now the proud owner of it?


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Tuesday September 2, 1975

Mum & Dad hear that they've failed to get the Menston Arms. I'd quite built up my hopes for the place and don't think Mum is too happy about the news either. Why, Oh why can't things ever be nice and easy for our family? I'm sure we must be fated or something. Dad thinks that the New Inn in Guiseley is a good place to try for, but I don't think it looks like anything special at all.

Marita rings at 7.30 to see about meeting me for lunch in the Wellesley tomorrow. Dave will of course be coming along, and probably MM. Haven't seen Marita since that party we had at the end of July. _______.

John sold his Morris 1100 today. £15!! I think it's quite ridiculous because he paid £150 for it 13 months ago, but he doesn't seem peturbed by his loss. His wild hysteria over the spitfire is probably still colouring his judgement, but I bet he'll regret giving his old car away one day. You mark my words.

Auntie Hilda and Uncle Tony came this evening. I was in the midst of watching 'Quo Vadis' a 3-hour film based on the Roman Empire and the Christians, &c. Peter Ustinov is Nero, and Deborah Kerr a sensual slave-girl. Not a good film really. Mum, Dad, Hilda and Tony went to the New Inn to give it the 'once over'. By strange coincidence, John and 'George' were also inspecting the New Inn at the same time, and they came back at 11pm with tales of wonder. Evidently, it isn't a bad place after all, and even John was impressed by the decor. I shall have to see it to believe it. Doubting Thomas is like a rice pudding compared with me.

The Gadsbys return for supper and we tuck into beef sandwiches and sardine sandwiches. John brings 'George' back and Peter Nason is here too. Lynn and Dave are round at Christine D's residence and don't get back until late.

After 'Quo Vadis' I switched onto BBC2 and see the 1705 version of 'Jane Eyre' starring Orson Welles and Olivia de Havilland's plain sister - I can't remember he name now. An outstanding film anyway, and I came to bed after the Gadsby's departure at 12.00.

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Friday March 28, 1975

Good Friday. No work - just pure, unadulterated bone-idleness. At 12.30 on a beautifully sunny, but cold afternoon Dave, Lynn, Helen and I gather in the Hare & Hounds, Menston, Yorkshire, for a little drink before departing, in Mr Baker's car, to Woodhouse Moor Fair for the afternoon. Prior to embarking on the afternoon of childish entertainment, the four of us satisfied our refreshment buds in the Hyde Park public house, upon which I'd rather not pass comment at this moment in time and feel that the comments I would surely be called upon to make are unfit to languish on the page for this holy day.

Spend all afternoon in the fairground and return with fish and chips to Helen's at about 4.30. Home after 5 where Mummmy makes us yet another tea. Mum and Dad walked from our house to Ilkley this morning in just two hours and then came back on the bus.

Down to the Hare & Hounds where Miss Christine Mary Dacre-Braithwaite joins us unaccompanied. Pass a pleasant few hours and plan to go to Wikis, but alas and alack, Gary comes in at about 10.0 o'clock. Blast and Damn him! However, still set on the idea of going to Wikis, John, Gillian and I depart thereunto. Kicked out at 12.30 - Sunday licensing on Good Fridays - bah - and back to Gillian's to see a film. I tried to have sex with her without much success.

-=-

Thursday March 13, 1975

Glorious pay day once again. God knows what I'd do, or where I'd be, if that little bundle of notes wasn't thrust upon me once a week in the usual manner.

Marita rings at about 7 and says she's bored and gives me the usual stories about how sickened off she is lately, &c. I immediately leap to her rescue by saying 'we really ought to go out for a few drinks' or words to that effect. She agrees. Picking me up at 8 we go down to the Fox at Menston. I vowed never to darken the doorstep of that hostelry again following an incident therein the other week involving Helen and Miss Dibb. However, Marita likes it, so who cares? She informs me, whilst slumped over her tonic water, that Our Lady of Bramhope is no longer a spoken for person. My heart leaps at the thought of darling Denise being once again in our midst and tears of joy fell into my ale at Marita's tale of cruelty and misery. Ade, for all his good points, dealt irreparable blows to dearest Denise, and for that alone he deserves all the evils that will surely come to him.

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Saturday March 1, 1975

St David's Day. Weird goings on indeed today. The bloody fog is still here, and so I refuse to venture out of doors until the call of the pub summons me in the evening.

Down to the Hare & Hounds where I discover that a party is being thrown in Otley by one of Linda Smith's colleagues. At first the idea doesn't seem too bad, but hang on a minute. Chris brings Denny down with him. She's no longer a smoker, and discos are no longer a thrill and a joy to her. Ade is ruining her life but she refuses to realise it. The poor girl will be engaged and married off by the summer of '76 - you mark my words. Linda Smith says that Christine Dibb and Helen Lockyer (Jane's sister) can't come to the party, but I protest and also refuse to go. The three of us remain at the Hare. June Dixon, a real snobby weirdo, and her pal, Brenda take the three of us to the Fox - the next pub down from the Hare. We stay until 10.45 and go after being insulted by one of the barmaids. Back to Helen's in Menston. Drink Martini, beer and whisky in front of the TV until it closes down and then go through a book containing the works of Salvador Dali. June and Brenda leave at 12 - in something of a hurry after I said something disagreeable, and the three of us remained until 3.30. Finished off with toast and Bovril then Jane drove us home.

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Friday March 22, 1974

Quite a busy day but uneventful. To the Emmotts at 8. Chris, Andy, John, Keith, Paul, Laura with Martin (one of her latest conquests). At about 9 we all go to the Hare and Hounds at Menston and then Andy takes John, Chris and I in his VW to Wikis, where John becomes a fully paid up member. A good time is had by all and we go home at 2 or thereabouts.

Receive a letter from David in Worcester. I tell him, when I reply, that something will be going on at Pine Tops on April 5, my 19th birthday. And by odd coincidence I saw Sandra Lawson in Wikis, with someone other than her husband, and we exchange the usual niceities. John was unusually abrupt this evening and behaved quite hatefully towards the end. We had a good go at each other when we arrived home. Bed 3 -ish.

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Sunday October 7, 1973

16th after Trinity. Leap out of bed all fresh and alive at 1pm. Have a mediocre breakfast and depart for the bathroom to remove last night's dirt. See in the Sunday Express that the Jews and Arabs are still 'at it'. It's the first time they've had a full scale war since June, 1967. I do hope that the Jews will win. The poor sods have ahad to put up with a lot. What with the Nazis and now the Arabs. Anyway, the Arabs are such hysterical bods - either killing one another or people in airport VIP lounges. Later: see a corny film on the BBC. Read in the Express about the events of October 1963 when Macmillan threw his cards in. It seems that no one knew who to turn to after the demise of Super Mac. The Queen sent for the 14th Earl of Home who jacked in his title in order to form a government in the Commons. He didn't do very well. Later: Chris rings. We decide to go to the Malt Shovel in Menston. John and I nearly walk the whole of the way. Arrive at 8.40. Marita, Chris, Andy, Christine W and Laura are inside. We sat chatting and arguing until 10.45. They all leave with Marita and John and me walk to the White Cross. We got on a bus to Hawksworth Lane and are home for 11.10. Mother had baked the Christmas cake and the house smells heavenly. Little supper. Bed by 11.55. --==--

Friday January 19, 1973

Snow. Tim and Liz's engagement party. I had three whiskies and a pint of keg bitter. I escorted Denise to the party. June looked ravishing. Denise and I were out in the cold drinking whisky at 10.30. At 10.45 poor Janet Roots set off in the snow for Horsforth. She was supposed to be Harry Ramsden's just after 11 to catch the 55 bus. Gillian Widdop's brother-in-law brought Dave and myself home at 11.10.

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Sunday January 7, 1973

1st Sunday after Epiphany. Woke up at 1.20pm. I absolutely hate sleeping-in until this uncivilised hour. After lunch I rang Shelley (Masterson) at Menston - - haven't seen her since May. Watched the telly all afternoon and listened to the top 20 on Radio 1. Sunday is the most boring day of the week. One day I'll go to church on a Sunday morning. Chris phoned and said that Louise and MM went down to Denise's babysitters last night to see if Chris and D. were doing anything they shouldn't be doing - Geddit! It'll certainly be a laugh at school tomorrow. John and I are going down to Dave's on Tuesday to look at brochures for the '73 holiday. I have to save £70 for July. Not a very pleasant thought. John, being a working man is able to save a small fortune by July - he fancies going to Norway, but I'd prefer Austria or Switzerland.

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