Wednesday May 31, 1978

Sat in the garden ~ wearing only my shorts ~ compiling this journal today. It has been another 'scorcher'.

Sarah and I went to Parker's (wine bar) at lunchtime. She bought me three or four pints and we discussed taking our 'concubines' out on Saturday in what will be an onslaught on Harrogate. Sarah and I haven't formed a foursome since Aug 1976 when we went out with Peter (Baker) and Lynne Mather.

A hot sticky afternoon filing portraits. You can imagine what bliss it was to sit in my deckchair with a heddy summer breeze blowing round my knees.

Also contacted Jacq who is burnt to a cinder after sprawling in the park all day yesterday. She says she's not eating this weekend.

Uncle Peter's daughter, Julie, is coming to stay with us on Saturday for what's left of the weekend. Peter's children are good kids.

This evening I took a layer off the lawns.

Prince Michael of Kent and Marie-Christine Troubridge have become engaged. The Queen consented in Privy Council this afternoon to her cousin's marriage with a Czech-born Roman Catholic with one ex husband still living. Formerly Baroness Marie-Christine von Reibnitz, Marie-Christine's marriage to Tom Troubridge was declared null a couple of weeks ago. I do not think any member of the Royal Family has married a Roman Catholic since the 1680s. However, I may be wrong. I have just seen the couple on the six o'clock news and I can tell you I would also renounce any claim to the throne to lay my hands on her. She's beautiful.

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Tuesday July 5, 1977

Good weather continues but the forecast says it will change for the worst on Thursday. Who cares? With the coup d'etat in Pakistan we have far more important things to worry about.

The Ostlers.

Out at lunchtime to the Ostlers with Sarah. She and Peter B finished last night on a dramatic note - as her relationships always seem to end. Had 2 halves of lager and soaked up the details.

Comments on my haircut: Stephanie Ferguson says I look like something (note not somebody) from the Stranglers (a Punk Rock group) and later in the afternoon she toned it down to David Bowie. Sarah spoiled it all and crumbled my ego by saying I looked like 'the queer waiter at the Damn Yankee'.

Rang Carole at 2 and had it out with her. I said all the things that have been on my mind all weekend but left out the most pointed abuse because she said she was going to cry. We both blamed each other and then _____________. I called her all the names under the sun (except the really rude ones for some gentleman-like romantic reason) and arranged to go out with her on Thursday. Or perhaps I should say I decided we were going out on Thursday. She's bringing my T-shirt with her. Oh, it's all so mixed up, isn't it? My love life, or lack of it, is far from stable. Am I jinxed?

Cut the lawns tonight. Dave B came and took Lynn to her shift at the Hare - I went with them and on with Dave to George Waite's on business. Back to the Hare at 9 for the last hour. Naomi was quite chatty and says she'll send a postcard to Ibiza.

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Saturday June 18, 1977

Things aren't half quiet without Tony on the scene. I only hope his stay in Bishop Stortford will do him some good.

I didn't get out of bed until almost 12 and set off immediately down the lane on my Father's Day/Wedding anniversary present purchasing expedition. My first port of call was Maria's where I persuaded her to hold over her mail order catalogue money until Thursday so giving me an extra £4 for the parties ahead. Carole was there ironing of all things. She was quiet. By about 4 the both of us were in Guiseley. I  escorted her to her bus at the White Cross. No kisses or signs of affection from either of us and I just say I'll phone in the week.

Got a couple of boxes of chocolates for tomorrow's events and then went to meet John on Thorpe Lane. He's doing up the old Moffat residence for Pamela and her intended. He's the strong silent type is John.

Ernest: home brew adviser.

Mum and Dad have started the wine making lark. When I set out for Wetherby at 6.30 Ernest Blackwell was lecturing them on how best to bottle your hock.

Arrived in Leeds at 7.15 and got to Wetherby for about 8pm. We all congregated in one of the local pubs and moved on to the Town Hall at about 9. Sarah was with John MacMurray and they looked odd together but he's more pleasant than queer old Peter Baker.

The party is quite incredible really. Chris had laid on a 'spread' but it had all been devoured, but the barrels of Theakston's beer were still to be had in profusion. A punk rock group entertained in the ballroom and they invited the party goers to be sick on the highly polished floor. The local aristocracy seem to be thickly spread and several military gents with handle-bar moustaches were competing with the likes of me over the dwindling contents of the barrels of ale. Sarah didn't enjoy it and plotted with Ursula to leave early and at 11 we hurried off to Aberford to have coffee at the McDermott pile. I didn't really want to leave the party at all but it was a choice between a lift back to Guiseley or bed at the Monckton cottage - and the latter hadn't been confirmed anyway. At one time I would have told Sarah to sod it, but I'm 22 now. Goodnight all.

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Friday January 28, 1977

Meet Miss Denise Akroyd outside the YP at 1pm and we go over to the Central and meet Marita who buys us both a pint of lager in honour of her twenty second birthday tomorrow. D and I sit until 2.30 and discuss a few controversial topics including Mr_________.She makes it all sound like Wuthering Heights. A good girl. We plan to have an orgy at her place on February 11.

Back to the YP. Ring Lynne and connect her to Stephanie Ferguson so she can enquire about the Burley-in-Wharfedale residence. Lynne is cheesed off buggering about between Thornton-le-Dale & Roundhay. Quite understandable I think.

Meanwhile: 8 o'clock,  the two of us head to the (Horsforth) Leisure Centre where we attempt to watch the squash finals. Sarah and Peter (Baker) are in foul moods, and after battling though dinner of yet another chicken leg and frozen peas I'd had just about enough. Sarah sobbing all over the dinner table didn't do much to improve the atmosphere. Lynne and I cleared off as soon as it was decently possible to Oakwood Hall, where another 'mortuary atmosphere' prevailed. Peter & Dave Lazenby, Miss Akroyd and Michelle are romping around to old Showaddywaddy singles, &c. Need I say more?

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Wednesday November 24, 1976

Sarah says she thinks Peter [Baker] is a damned liar and can never trust him & that the whole relationship is on the rocks. Do you know why I am so content in that miserable dead-end hole, the [Yorkshire Post] library? I'll tell you. It's because of Sarah Elizabeth Collis. I'm sure I must love her. She is very much aware that I worship her. Funny, isn't it?

Tony rings tonight and enquires about my movements over the weekend. It's the first time I've heard from him since Saturday when he, Martyn and Stuart disappeared from Oakwood Hall at 1am or so. He says Stuart wasn't feeling too well and an emergency exit was necessary.

See the [British] Film Awards on TV. The Duchess of Kent actually went onto the stage and made a brief speech at the end of the show. An unusual move for royalty. They normally stand up, wave, and clear off.

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Friday November 19, 1976

A big piss-up tonight. Go with Lynne to the Leisure Centre [Horsforth] at 8.30 and stand with Sarah whilst Peter [Baker] plays squash down below. Quite a mob congregates herein. Mrs Johnson, Marilyn & Beverley Wheeler, Alan, an anti-monarchist with an effeminate mouth called David, who gets into the affections of Mrs J.

We all go off to Salvo's in Headingley for a pizzas, &c. Everyone is pissed and we make one hell of a racket in the restaurant which isn't on at all really, is it? Sarah becomes quite moronic and insensible. I scream like a mad thing at the effeminately mouthed David about the role of the Sovereign in current affairs. He says she's powerless, and I say 'but Ah yes, by her presence she prevents others from obtaining great power.' In between mouthfuls of pizza I find time to throw chunks of Walter Bagehot at him [i.e. that the monarchy is a 'mellowing influence on a dark and restless age'].

At one o'clock Lynne and I go back to Carol and Marilyn's flat. After an incident with the car door we arrive to find Marilyn with eight men in her sitting room holding court like Marie Antoinette. Mrs J is tucked up in bed with the anti-monarchist, effeminately-mouthed David. We leave after a glass of home-made cider and I receive abuse from Lynne about dragging her off to such a den of iniquity. Tut Tut Michael.

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Monday August 23, 1976

Need I mention the weather? Just take it from me that things remain just the same until I give you further notice.

At work Sarah tells me that Peter [Baker] says he is a divorcee, but she doesn't believe him, and thinks he may still be married. She thinks it would be interesting to investigate him. We need a private detective on the job.

Marlene, Frank, Auntie Mabel and the children come here after tea. At 7.30 Sue, Pete and I walk down to Silverdale Drive to see John & Maria's house. They got the key on Friday morning. John was putting up a cornice in his dining area but it soon became too dark to work. After a quick inspection of the upstairs paintwork he brings us home in the VW. Mum had departed to Maria's to see Molly.

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Friday August 20, 1976

Mum and Dad go up to see Uncle Harry for the weekend. Lynn and David are entertaining Alison and her man friend, and Lynne and I arrange to meet Sarah and Peter [Baker]. Lynne comes over at 7.30 - 8 o'clock and we drive to Follifoot where we sit outside the Lascelles Arms sipping lager & watching the sunset. How romantic!
But then Lynne just about smashed my teeth out after almost knocking my glass down my throat[accidentally] and then spilt cider over my trousers. Sarah and Peter arrive and we move inside for a further couple of rounds. Lynne doesn't seem to take exception to Peter's eccentricities,and they hit it off quite nicely. We go on to the Damn Yankee in Harrogate where I have one of those enormous pizzas again. A great meal. Back to our place for coffee. Drink lime juice. We called at Ty-Gwyn to inspect the old place on the way home. Sit in the dining room and have hysterics at Peter's recital of bits from last night's Evening Post. A misprint proclaimed 'Lord Haw Haw Haw Haw re-buried'. William Joyce wouldn't be amused I'm sure. Two Haws too many. We roared with laughter. We also had fun with the alabaster elephant in the dining room. But the less said about that the better. They all departed at 1am. I passed a pleasant night sleeping on the settee.

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Wednesday August 18, 1976

Sarah [Collis] & Peter [Baker] come over at 8 o'clock. The three of us go see John & Maria where they inspect the rabbits and introduce Lucy [Sarah's shih tzu] to Prince [Maria's King Charles spaniel]. John gives Peter blank looks when the latter attempts to lassoo the dogs with Lucy's lead, but Sarah & I just laugh. Neither John or Maria seem impressed with Peter. Much too 'kinky' and childish I fear. The three of us leave at 9.15 and go to the Fox & Hounds, and then move on to the Horsforth Leisure Centre where they show me round the place. See Marilyn [Wheeler] playing squash. Afterwards we go to Brian's the fish and chip shop at Headingley, and devour large quantities of food. Peter, because he doesn't really know me, thinks I'm the type who enjoys listening to jokes. I do not. I find difficulty in laughing at tales of Irish citizens visiting brothels, and other outrageous anecdotes of the sexual activities of nuns, and coarse, unwholesome rhyms about Snow White & the Seven Dwarfs. However, Peter is a good laugh, despite the nasty things he said about Capt Mark Phillips. Evidently, they [he and the captain] were at Marlborough together, and Mark's sexual frolics were far from healthy.

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Monday May 24, 1976

Hear the alarm clock for the first time in months and lay awake until I hear Lynn plodding around the house at 7.30. She complains about me having a party as though I'm a small child. What's happened to the adventurous, boisterous sister of mine? If a lad can't have a bit of a party occasionally he might as well go live in a Russian labour camp or something. All work and no play isn't something I adhere to at all. Is poor Lynn forgetting what it's like to indulge in a bit of good, old, dirty fun?

Work: we laugh at Saturday night and Sunday mornings escapades. Evidently, when I was at Carol's I was chasing one of the cats all over the building in awe at the sight of such an amazing creature. On being reminded that I am severely allergic our feline friends I am reported to have exclaimed: "Oh, is she a cat?" What on earth did I imagine I was so attentively pursuing? This question, unfortunately, remains unanswered.

Sarah tells me that Peter B thinks he knows me from somewhere. I tell her his face is very familiar. Where have we crossed paths before? This is another mysterious, unanswerable question.

Home at 5.15 after calling in at a shop in Guiseley for a loaf. Chicken and chips for tea with Lynn & Susan. Just the three of us. Sometimes I feel that our family is dwindling away. Things are bad enough without John, and Mum and Dad away make something of a large gap. Lynn tells me that she met CB this morning, who told her every detail of Saturdays events. I cringe at the very thought of CB's colourful descriptions of Mrs Monkman yelling abuse from her bedroom window and other tales of a blood-curdling nature. A sharp, rebuking letter is called for. I don't believe in hiding things from Lynn or purposely deceiving her, but the complete gory details are quite unnecessary. Dear me.

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Tuesday May 18, 1976

A warm, pleasant day. Go into town at lunchtime and collect the two Elton John records and at the same time order 'Make Me Smile' by Cockney Rebel for Christine. Why can't a chap buy a ladyfriend a gift occasionally? Nip unaccompanied into the Ostlers and have a couple of lagers.

Main topic at work is the coming events of Saturday night. Darryl Wills says he's coming when he hears that Sarah is attending. If she brings Peter, her boyfriend, we'll all be done for, but knowing Sarah I can see her turning up in a single capacity just to please me (wishful thinking).

Mr Monkman was buried today at 2.30. Dad and Ernest Blackwell represented the Hawksworth Lane residents, but I didn't fancy the idea at all. Funerals are not things one should rush into are they?

David rings at 7 o'clock to say his Dad is in hospital following a mild heart attack! God Almighty! That family is in a bad state! Mr Lawson always appears to be such a healthy chap too. He comes up to our place at 8.30 (David) and we go to the Queen's on Apperley Lane to meet Marita and Denise for a few drinks. It made a change going out on a Tuesday. We had a few laughs. David goes back into hospital on Friday and doesn't think he'll be well enough to come on Saturday.

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