Thursday October 7, 1976

Painting everything in sight until 8.30pm or so. CB rings at 6 o'clock to see if I'm going out on the town. I say no. Not like me at all, is it?

See Frankie Howerd on TV and then have a few drinks with Mum & Dad who come back from the Commercial saying Carol has suddenly returned to the USA without warning. What can have happened between her and Raymond? We did try to warn them about holidaying in Wales. ___________________________________.

Retire to bed....

after supping my lager..... tits...... hanging about in all direction.....shagged ......Precisely, he said, with the end of his fist thrust firmly.....

HRH The Duke of Kent is 41 on Saturday!

Good Old Duke. Edward Nicholas Paul Patrick David George William Bill Ernest Frederick..... or something like that.

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Friday June 11, 1976

Booze-up day again. Eileen and I make our usual venture across to the Central at 1 o'clock and pass a pleasant hour over a lager or two. We bring a few cans back at 2 for Sarah to have a few drinks as well. One can exploded showering the whole interior of the Yorkshire Post building with a splattering of Heineken.

Meanwhile, that night: Go to the Dyneley (Arms) at 8.30 with Chris, Denise and Carole. (Denise is, of course, staying with Miss Phillips). Meet Pete M and Anne, Raymond Bond and Anne's sister, Carol - and of course the lovely Lynne, who is dressed completely in black. We sit together (Lynne and I that is) all night and are not particularly put off by Carole staring at us throughout. Everyone seems to be getting round to my idea of thinking that poor Carole is slightly 'loony'. Her eyes are certrainly strange and certainly her whole appearance is one of a madwoman. I never feel quite safe now when I see her and always my eyes fall upon her revolting wrists and I think to myself: "God! Is that mess all my fault?"

Move on to the Harrogate Arms near Harlow Carr Gardens until closing. John and Maria came. (They joined us at the Dyneley at 10pm. Lynne brings me home at midnight and stays for over an hour).

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Friday January 2, 1976

Snow still covering most of the area. I can't help thinking that this Bing Crosby type weather is two weeks too late. Crispy snow is all very well on Christmas Eve, but I can't agree with it coming and hanging around at the beginning of January. Most unpleasant and awkward.

Mum is 41 today and Dad is 42. They don't look a day over 35 and I'm proud to be the owner of such a handsome pair of parents. We all gave them cards. I didn't give them a present because I bought them whisky on New Years Eve. Carole came up at 9pm with a present for them. Lovely and thoughtful of her.

At 9.30 Dad takes us to the Hare where all the others are assembled with the exception of Dave L. We drink gin and orange, and Peter N even had his own bottle of gin with him. At 10.30 Raymond took Carole and I to Harry Ramsden's, where we had fish and chips wrapped and delivered to Pine Tops by Dave B while the two of us went by bus.

We all sat about laughing and joking about the New Years Eve party and the saga of the size of our Christmas tree in comparison with the Macdonald's tree. Dave took Carole home at about 1.30.

Carole is going to town tomorrow and doesn't particularly want me to go with her. She seems hurt when I refuse to beg to go with her. I fancy a lazy day in bed anyway and the thought of trailing around town is OUT.

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Saturday December 20, 1975

To Oakwood Hall tonight. Andy and Linda's engagement party. ______.

Carole and I had shopped in Bradford all afternoon and she compelled me to get Andy and Linda four revolting 'sundae glasses'. What Andy will do with such things God only knows. But Carole insisted we bought them something and when Carole insists on doing something it is impossible to disuade her.

Went to the Hare at 8 and gave our present to the happy couple. Left the Hare at closing time, and attempted to get into Sweeney Todd's, but failed miserably. That was how we ended up at Oakwood Hall on this joyous occasion.

Carole and I barely said a civil word to each other all night and I almost decided to finish with her once and for all. Somehow I changed my mind. Afterwards, Raymond brought us to the White Cross and the two of us walked up to Maria's, where she's staying. I eat piles of cheese on toast and argue with John about all manner of things.

The walk up Thorpe Lane did Carole and I the world of good and by the time we reached Ridgeway we were getting on like a house on fire, or perhaps a hospital bed.


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Saturday November 1, 1975

A wet, bright and blustery day, but at least the fog's gone. I do not emerge until well after 12 o'clock, and I sat about reading the Daily Mail until 2pm when we had lunch.

After a lovely lunch of pork and Yorkshire puddings John took me round to Maria's, where Carole is staying the weekend. On my arrival I hear that her dad packed her suitcase for her this morning and said something to the nature of "go forth woman, and never darken my doorstep again". After a slanging match and a tearful scene, all was forgiven and he drove her to Maria's professing his fatherly love for her. Mrs P told her that they loved Carole especially because "we had to get married because of you". Being a love child doesn't always inspire automatic devotion, and if I'd been in the position of Mr P it would have brought forth feelings of complete hatred. Getting married is an obnoxious prospect to start with, let alone with the hinderance of children after only months of marital 'bliss'.

Mr & Mrs Macdonald are away for the weekend again and we, the four of us, sit listening to old Beatles LPs and 'The Sound of Music' with Julie Andrews screeching her mouth off. Carole looks a bit miserable and it's obvious she's been crying. Domestic problems in that family are a daily occurrence, and I fail to see how they have kept together for so long. She cheers up somewhat before 7pm, when I return home and leap into the bath.

I have sewn some of Dad's old police uniform buttons onto my old cheese cloth shirt, and wear my ancient denims. Back to Maria's at 8.15, and Carole accompanies me to the bus stop. I am in a great mood, and so too is darling Carole, who smiles like a cherubic angel. We only stay at the Hare & Hounds for an hour, and then move on to the Craven Heifer again. Carole, Helen L and me go with Raymond, and all the gang go with Peter. At the Craven Heifer we find Mum and Dad having a quiet drink. Lynn, Dave, Sue and Peter came too. We all had a great time and then moved on to the Cow & Calf except for Raymond, Helen, Lynn & Dave. Carole and CB hate one another. Carole and I stand with Sue & Peter for most of the night and Christine D is with her sister, Elaine, whom I haven't seen since 1971. _____________. Back to Martyn's for coffee and see Karen Cole with Mick Lynch. His Mum comes in shortly after us.

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Saturday October 11, 1975

At 3pm I go to 14, Oakridge Avenue yet again. I find a note pinned on the door from Carole asking me to go straight in because all the family have gone out, and she cannot be bothered to get out of bed. Upstairs I find John and Maria. They are helping her to polish off my box of chocolates. We sit on the bed and watch a cronic film on BBC2. Before I know what's happening I've fallen into a semi coma, and am roused something like an hour later by the noise of Mrs P coming in from shopping. Carole and I have tea together in her bedroom and I stay with her until about 7.30. The family are very nice really, but I always think Carole is far too hard on them - especially her little brother, Paul, who at 11 is only like other lads his age. She ought to treat kids more like equals. After all, she's only 17 herself. However, I do adore her.

To the Hare with John after seeing Carole, and I go home at 8.30 in order to change my clothes to go up to the Cow & Calf. Go to the C & C with Peter M, Lynn, Dave, CD, Carol Smith, Raymond &c, all going too. Have a good night but find I'm missing Carole's company. Home at 1.30 with Dave B and Lynn. Dave and I had a great sing-along on the way home.

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Thursday October 2, 1975

Excitement at work this morning. As ever, I was going through the Court Circular quenching my daily thirst for knowing what Her Majesty has been up to, and to my great surprise I see that the Duchess of Kent is to visit the Yorkshire Post on November 25. I know that over the years I have said horrible, unforgivable things about Yorkshire's own Royal duchess, but I can assure you that I've out-grown this childish phase now. The duchess does a brilliant job, and I must state categorically that the stories I wrote about her were nothing more than figments of my imagination. My vendetta against the House of Kent is over.

To Leeds in a thunderstorm with John at 7.30 and we meet about six lads in a despicable pub called the 'Tam O' Shanter' or something. After winding our way up the Headrow we end up in Cinderella's in something of a dislocated, drunken fashion. Raymond ends up grovelling on the floor, and Dave, the groom-to-be, is with a sizeable wench in a red dress. If his intended looks anything like that object I sincerely feel for him in his last week of freedom. John and I get a taxi from Cinderella's at 2am, and the thing cost £3.30. Split between the two of us it wasn't all that tragic. Slept soundly after devouring a sandwich.

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Wednesday October 1, 1975

Down to meet Carole at 8.15pm and sit with her mother, aunt and uncle until she is ready to go out. This family really is hilarious, and coupled with the Frankie Howerd Show on TV I was all in all on the verge of hysterics.

Go across to the Hare at about 8.45 with Carole and it's incredibly quiet. Only Helen and CD are to be seen, and the atmosphere of the place is changing weekly. See Raymond, who tells me that Dave (his little friend) is to be married a week on Saturday and is having his "stag" night tomorrow. This entails a pub crawl through Leeds and an orgy in Cinderella's afterwards. John and I are going, but I don't think any of the other lads will be. Keith isn't really 'in' with the Raymond Bond set.

To get a bit philosophical. What is love and how does one define it? This is the ten dollar question. ______told ________that she loved him and asked if he felt the same way too. His reply was that never having been in love before he needed time to make up his mind what being in love actually entails. Is it possible to go through life thinking you are in love with someone only to find that you actually never were? Carole seems upset when I say I fall in love with every girl I go out with. She says I am the only boy she's loved and cannot understand why I have managed to get hitched from the heart many times before. Am I just gullable, or is falling in love like falling off the kerb as far as I'm concerned?


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Friday September 5, 1975

At 11.30 I ring from the YP to bid my farewells to Lynn and Susan for ten days or so. At 2.30pm they leave for Winchester (where Alison now lives. Have I mentioned this before?)

Tonight I meet Carole at the Hare & Hounds where all the gang are assembled. Andy is having his last fling before Linda gets home tomorrow. David is there too, and I give him the £5 I owe him which cheers him up no end. I still can't get over him drinking port, but I've already gone into detail on that topic before.

I'm wearing jeans and Carole wants to go to Wikis, and so John brings me home and we both change. Whilst I'm away Carole manages to spill a pernod all over some innocent bystander - what a bloody waste. We go down to Wikis before 11 along with Andy, Pete M, Raymond and his latest girlfriend. Have a nice time but the place is markedly quiet. See Nigel Lister and Ronnie, who have at one time or another both been close friends with Lynn. Nigel always says hello, but Ronnie pretends he doesn't know me. Everyone seems to have taken to Carole. I noticed Raymond giving her wide-eyed stares, and I'll have to keep my eye on things. At 2.20am we walked up the lane to 'George's', where Carole is staying the weekend. It starts to rain and I get in at nearly 3 o'clock feeling slightly damp. Have two doughnuts, two cheese and pickled onion sandwiches, then come to bed and read a few paragraphs of 'My Queen and I'. Not bad eh, for 3.30 in the morning?

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Saturday July 26, 1975

I didn't really have enough space yesterday to go into any more detail about 'George's' party. At one stage 'George' and I got carried away and we fell on the band, but all in all we returned without any injury. After the meal we came back to the Macdonald's for a few more drinks - champagne and cigars - and we staggered off home, or perhaps I should say we drove off home, and staggered up to bed.

Six or seven hours later we were out of bed and waving bye bye to Mum and Dad, who are going down to Ruby and Arthur's in Norfolk. Mum wasn't too pleased about me having a party tonight but Lynn used her charm and convinced her that all will be well. However, I was feeling terrible. A hot bath, which normally clears hangovers for me, didn't do so, and I thought the end had come.

'George' and Carole came round at 11am and I insisted on playing Rachmaninov's 2nd piano concerto and lying quite still on the settee. Carole isn't my type at all really and I don't see how we've managed to keep up the pretence for so long. She leaves at 12 and I won't see her until the end of August. Dave B managed to deflate her umberella (see foot of July 23) and I think it could be symbolic of our relationship.

The party: all went to the Hare at 8. Me in new trousers. Stayed there until about 10 o'clock. Stand with Dave L and Christine B all night. Dave is still my best pal after all these years and it's quite incredible how well we get on. The three of us come back to Pine Tops before the mob and we make a start on the drinks. All the usual come, other than Miss Carol Smith, and the only strangers were a few Durham University students who came with Ray. MM and Marita came looking like a pair of blacks and were quite jolly. Dave passed out upstairs just after 12, and the next to go was Lynn, who was violently sick, &c. Poor Christine drank vodka until it spewed out of her ears and she did nothing but cry. I took her for a walk at about 2am up on the common, and she lost her ear-rings. That didn't help matters, and it beats me how she always manages to lose expensive jewelry when she's drunk. The Braithwaite collection must have dwindled somewhat since Christine started drinking.

Al Dixon's brother, Graham, was also having a party, and Dave B, Martyn Cole, Al, and me went up for half an hour. It was completely dead and useless. On our return home I bedded down in the dining room next to a snoring Christine B, who looked like (in Dave L's words) a Japanese Mud Wrestler.

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Sunday June 22, 1975

4th after Trinity. Hot and fine. Up at about 11 o'clock for a meagre cooked breakfast, and Mum is going on about us going round next door for cocktails or something. Since the Smiths left last week we've had very little to do with the new tenants, although I can't say I haven't noticed the daughter, because I most certainly have. We shall have to watch things in that direction.

No doubt you'll all be wondering about Christine and me. Well, it's difficult really. Until Gary finished with her I was besotted and beside myself with passion for her, but with me having the roving eye that I have I seem to have cooled as of late. Sarah creates a problem because I have always had a spot somewhere inside for her, and that fact that Sarah, Carol, John and I are going out on Saturday doesn't help me at all really. Oh, I'm saying no more about that anyway.

After deciding not to go round to the neighbours after all, John and me go down to the Commercial, where Chris and Christine are waiting for us. We have one drink and then say bye bye to Chris until next weekend. Christine comes back to Pine Tops and we lounge on the lawn until after 'Pick of the Pops' finished at 7. She likes me even more now, and as Gary is fading I'm becoming all the more stronger.

Linda's party tonight: Go with Peter M, Lumsden, Raymond and John. The only girls allowed other than the college girls are Carol and Helen. Get quite pissed on cider and the thing lasts until about 3am but I don't want to write much about it. However, I will say it was better than I thought it would be, and we had a great time.

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Saturday May 31, 1975

John and I go into Otley in afternoon for a lark around, but with the main intention of finding a decent tool shop for my younger brother and eventual heir. I say heir because the title will of course go to him and his children after I'm gone, because unless CB marries me, I will not produce any offspring. Christine Braithwaite is the only person whom I'd consider making my duchess.

Home at 5.30 to find Mum and Dad looking sun-tanned after a week in Scotland laden with relics and souvenirs of Balmoral and Inveraray. They tell us the tale and explain how they managed to motor 1300 miles in seven days. Glad to see them home safely.

To the Fleece with Dave, Lynn and John. I tore a hole in my trousers climbing into Mr Baker's sports car, but otherwise received no other injuries, well other than verbal ones that is. At the off-licence in Guiseley we were asked our age! Twenty years old, and people still think I'm 15.

All the mob gather in the Fleece and we move on to Laura's at 9.30. A drunken evening follows. Laura's parents are nice folk. Much nicer than I ever imagined. Her eighty-six year-old granny was a right case too. Chris, Pete M, John, Raymond and his mate, and me walked back down Town Street at 2am and we left chaos and devastation in our path. John fell off the causeway and sprained his ankle, and was then bitten by Dandy, the Ratcliffe hound, on our arrival at 21, Victoria Drive. Poor Pete had never been drunk before. And WAS he drunk!

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Sunday November 3, 1974

21st after Trinity. Wake at 11.30 and lay in bed with the radio on until after 12. Nice lunch again, followed by a hideous Danny Kaye film on TV which put the dampeners on everything.John goes with Mum and Dad to Bradford to collect his car which somebody's been trying to fix since before Adam was a lad. Lynn sits in her room doing her college homework and Alison and I sit in the dining room catching quick bursts of recitals of Lynn's essays from upstairs. (Yes folks, I do have a sister who talks to herself). A good afternoon, but uneventful.

Decide to go out quite alone tonight and never intend going out with Lynne again. The infatuation is over at last after 27 days. Just before John and I go to the Hare, Lynne rings from Harrogate and says she may be going to the Hare with her friend (in her car) at about 9 o'clock. I say little and make it quite obvious that I don't care what she does with herself. Dave Baker brings Lynn and Carol, and Chris comes very late as usual. Ray brings a college friend called John and so too comes Laura with that big-headed swine, Martin. All back to Pine Tops for coffee.

Carol was behaving most oddly tonight and never made any attempt to communicate with poor John. Bed after reading 'Lord Emsworth & Others'. (PS - Lynne went at 10.30 and said goodbye as if she was a bishop leaving a village fete after performing the opening ceremony. What else can one possibly say?)

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Saturday September 28, 1974

John's party. The social turn-out of the season, equalled only by Royal Ascot and Princess Margaret's monthly orgies at Kensington Palace. Everyone that meant anything came, and herein is the list:-
Lynn Rhodes
Susan Rhodes
Alison Dixon
Jackie Myers
Christine Dibb
dear Laura
Christine Whitethighs (Phyllis)
Carol Smith
Linda Smith
Denise Akroyd
Christopher Ratcliffe
Andy Graham
Ray?
Peter Mather
Martyn Cole
David Baker
Keith Brown
Peter Nason, &c.

Jackie came at about 6.30 and we went to the Hare at 8. Chris was being his usual over-jovial self, and Denny looked stunning in a rather plain, yet attractive Hartnell creation. Ray (Bond?) and Dave Baker came too, and we move on to the Commercial which is packed to the hilt like the Social Security office on pay day. See Keith, &c and remind him about the party. Home at 11 after Papa had purchased several pints of ale for me. Everyone arrives by 11.30 though Dave Lawson never actually turned up. Didn't drink much in excess, though Auntie Hilda's home brewed parsnip wine knocked the top off my sober self. Harry Monkman did his usual party piece. Alison and I went round at about 1am and poured water through his letter-box, which in the colder soberness of Sunday morning still seems very funny. My sense of humour is one of the mosr regal aspects of my character. After all, King Edward VII and King George VI both had this boy-like humour which remained with them until they end of their days, and so do I. Danced until 4.30 on Sunday morning. Curtains have fallen on the romance between Lynn and Ronnie, and I did keep getting a glimpse of her at the side of good old Dave Baker, who's always had an affectionate bond with her. I expected getting a bed but found Andy and Linda in mine when I drifted up at 4.30am. Ended up in the lounge sprawled between two chairs. Chris was on the floor in a sleeping bag, and Lynn and Jackie shared the settee. Most people went home, even Denny. Throughout the whole evening Mum and Dad were the ultimate in fun and kindness & it completely destroys the theory about generation gaps, &c. Hate parties coming to end, it's abominable.

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Saturday September 7, 1974

As I've already said, we were attacked by savage wasps whilst listening to the Ed Stewart Show. Fortunately, Chris found some fly killer in the caravan and we managed to keep them off us whilst we got dressed.

Make breakfast much to the disgust of Linda, who wanted an extra 10 minutes in bed with Andy. Chris takes the three of us into Grassington for the afternoon, where the torrential rain lashed down upo us.

Buy several necessities of food, like cocktail cherries, and manadarin oranges. Also buy on impulse, a large feather duster - don't ask me why.

Go into a pub for lunch and meet a bloke who dwells at Rawdon, who was far too familiar with us for comfort - even going so far of offer us beds in his caravan if the weather continues to worsen. Andy labelled him a queer from the start, but I just think he was being slightly over-friendly.

Stagger round the camp-site in a gale force wind, glass of martini in one hand, trying to secure the tent, which unfortunately rips open in a sudden surge of wind. The destroyed tent renders us homeless for the night. Peter offers us all beds in the caravan which we gratefully accept (good of him I'm sure). Back on a pub-crawl again where I fall foul to the lure of fruit machines which Dave Lawson introduced me to. Good evening & then back to the caravan feeling full of cold, no doubt caught off Chris. Everyone in the caravan except Andy, Linda, Ray and Gill. Carol Smith and Christine Whitethighs get drunk and fight like cats in the night.

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