Saturday January 28, 1978

Sun rises 07:45 Suns sets 16:42

Up at 11. Naomi's 21st birthday party. I went to 10, Southway at noon. Susan was laughing as I headed down Hawksworth Lane with my coat pulled over my head reminiscent of a Saudi Arabian.

with WPC Carolle Jones.

Tremendous party. In answer to the question "Do Unitarian ministers get pissed at lunchtime?" it would only be fair to answer: "No, they do not. But they help everyone else become horribly so". The Rev. and Mrs Downing are very friendly, but old. His Reverence told me, quite confidentially, over the bottles in the kitchen, that he had celebrated his 39th birthday on his honeymoon.

Everyone you can possibly think of turned up. CB, Philip H, Carole, Fogarty, and Carolle Jones, of whom I am terribly fond. However, the vast quantity of booze proved hazardous for public relations. CB was pissed and in tears when her young man cleared off with fat Lynne from the Oval, and Fogarty took Carole home at about 3 after he discovered us fraternising in the 'bar'. She only had her arm through mine, nothing sexual. I felt awful about this because it ruined her afternoon. She told me she will write next week.

Naomi is divinely attractive, as is the nosh. Alas, garlic cropped up in most items on the menu. Richard Wellock had to smuggle CB home at 6 or perhaps 7, and Carolle J and I were left romantically linked. She's joining the police force a week on Monday.

Events from now become dreadfully hazy. Burley in Wharfedale, Flying Pizza, lager, cousin Dorothy, pool tables, Carolle in my old raincoat, &c. Yes, all this splashing around in my lager logged brain. I recoil in horror at the thought of visiting my fierce cousin Dorothy. C and I were horribly pissed, but as far as I can remember Dorothy was diplomatically silent on this. Carolle in my filthy, old raincoat looked spectacular. The Wharfedale Gate was the last pub we visited I'm sure. We were later refused entry at Il Trovatore before finding success at the Elma. Danced with Carolle all night and her last words to me were: "This time we must definitely keep in touch, Michael", said with a certain knowing look.

Home into bed with a gruesome headache at 1:45am.

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Tuesday November 2, 1976

Busy evening. to the library at 7 o'clock to get 'Edward VIII' by Lady Donaldson, the only complete biography in existence of the Duke of Windsor, I think. Whilst I'm in the library Mama goes to John & Maria's to collect some washing [Maria's machine having become incapacitated over the weekend.] I'm collected at 7.45 and on arriving home I'm informed that Tony's been on the phone. I ring and he comes up at 8 with his washing too [not for Mum though]. We go down to Ilkley and he bungs his dirty undies and things into the laundrette and we go across to the Crescent pub for a pint or two. Tragedy strikes however, because Tony's washing comes out of the machine in a far worse state than it was before it went in. A little man with a floor cloth tells us that his wife, Freda, thinks that the machine used by Tony is knackered and out of order. A fine thing to tell us after the deed has been done. But in good spirits we go to the Hare & Hounds where we find Judith, Kathryn, Richard Wellock and Pauline [you know who she is. We call her Winifred/Mildred who Tony quite fancies]. Tony seems attracted to Judith. Is she the follow-up of Miss Akroyd?

Back at 11 o'clock and we watch 'Kojak' on the BBC. He goes half an hour later and I'm up until 1am watching the start of the U.S presidential election thing. Come on Ford - you can do it!

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Saturday January 24, 1976

I am in a state of great shock and acute excitement. Carole left at 10 o'clock before I got up and I didn't stir until 12.

John went off to see Andy at the Station on Henshaw Lane and I did nothing at all until lunchtime.

Dave L rang and I was surprised to hear he's home for the weekend. God knows what he'll be doing tonight because Linda hasn't invited him to her 21st.

Carole rings at 2.30, or 3 o'clock and John and I go round to Maria's. Richard Wellock and a friend are there supping tea and Carole is looking shifty, and I wonder what the Hell is wrong. Richard and friend go and Carole and I are left alone listening to the Santana LP. Mr & Mrs Mac go out and John and Maria are sitting in the dining room.

Carole looked at me and said: "We didn't go shopping to Leeds this morning, you know." I replied "what did you do then?" And she said: "It's something to do with Maria." I felt my knees knocking together. The truth rushed over me like a waterfall. She is pregnant. John's going to be a daddy in August, and I am going to be an uncle. I cannot describe the emotion of it all. Happiness mixed with a reserved sense of doom. He will be 20 in September and Maria will be 18 in July. What Mum will say I just cannot imagine.

At the Yorkshire Rose for Linda's 21st John and Maria announce that they are getting engaged next Saturday. Chris and a few others soon find out that she's pregnant, and Peter M is upset that John won't be able to go on holiday with us in July. Get drunk, and go back afterwards to Maria's until 2.30. They're telling her parents tomorrow and so I'll make myself scarce before the announcement.

And to think that last Wednesday I was joking with Maria about her being pregnant and now it's all true.

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Friday October 10, 1975

Carole is still at death's door. Realising this fact, I dashed into town at lunchtime to get her a box of chocolates in an attempt to show her how much I love her. Whilst in town I get myself a pair of shoes and a pair of hideous green trousers, which I don't like at all. On my arrival home I sell them to John (the trousers that is) and I find myself £8 better off. Or do I? No, I don't, because I'd have had the £8 in the first place.

Go straight to Carole's on the 33 bus. She is propped up in bed, and her grandmother, the Dowager Mrs Phillips, is being entertained by Mrs P in the drawing room. Carole does look a lot better, and the chocolates do cheer her up somewhat. I stay half an hour and then get the bus home in time for tea. Walk up the lane with Lynn.

After tea I'm once again back down the lane to the Hare. Along with Helen and CD I go to Carole's once more and spend half an hour with her again. Lynn and Dave, Sue and Peter are also there, and Dave bought her a couple of bottles of the hard stuff. I go back to the Hare and stand with CD and Martyn Cole and Ken Dibb - who is pissed. Walk home at 11.30 accompanied by CD, who is being pestered by Richard Wellock.

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Wednesday August 27, 1975

Out with Carole to the Hare and Hounds at 8.30pm. Christine finished with Richard Wellock some ten minutes after my arrival and then told me she was horribly jealous of Carole and hates the idea of seeing us together. It's bloody ironic, isn't it? She kept saying she understood how I felt when she was going out with Gary. I just stand open mouthed, lost for words. Obviously, I don't tell Carole because I realise no love is lost between them and this item of information isn't going to improve things at all. However, I do say to CB that Carole and I are getting on tremendously and when she asks me what my feeling are for CP I say I'm very fond. At this, Christine proceeds to drink herself into a drunken state and words like 'swine' and 'cow' and 'pig' are hurled in my direction.

Carole doesn't let me see her home and insists in waiting until I'm on the bus, which is like June B all over again. Get a 33 with Christine Dibb and Christine B, and all we can get out of CB is a constant long drawn out sigh and she looks at me like an injured spaniel. To Harry Ramsden's with CD and we walk up Thorpe Lane stuffing ourselves.

Poor Christine. Are we fated to adore each other without doing anything about it?

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