Thursday October 23, 1975

Beautiful autumn day. I wandered through town this afternoon in my shirt sleeves and didn't feel a bit uncomfortable.

Basil, our esteemed postman, is becoming ratty and upset by Christine B's references to him on the rear of the letters she writes to me. I should never have revealed the forename of Mr Postman, and I suppose CB will have to be told about his latest complaint. I don't want the Post Office taking action. On the subject of the Post Office, I should say something about them and their relationship with Yorkshire Post Newspapers Ltd. Denis Lehane was a YP leader writer until last week, when he foolishly published a piece on the PO saying they had destroyed thousands of Christmas cards and other Christmas mail two or three years ago because they couldn't cope with the amount of yuletide post. They have done nothing of the kind. Italy may well have done something similar, but what they do with glittery Santa Clauses in Rome is hardly the fault of Sir William Rylands. (Sir Gordon) Linacre sacked Lehane on the spot, and so poor Tom Greenwell is now completely alone.

A bomb exploded this morning under a car belonging to Hugh Fraser, the Tory MP. It exploded nea the Fraser home, where Caroline Kennedy, Jackie Onassis's daughter, is living temporarily. I cannot help thinking that Lady Antonia has something to do with it._________. But to be serious, the bomb killed a neighbour of Fraser's who was a leading cancer research professor. The day that capital punishment is reinstated will be a day of national benefit indeed.

I've just heard on the late news that Prince Juan Carlos is ready to take over from Franco, who is on his death bed. We may have a king of Spain tomorrow.

Carole rang at 5.30 and then at 8.30. She is worried about me not liking her latest letter. Fooilsh maiden. __________.


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