Sunday January 23, 1977

3rd after Epiphany. Wake up at a late hour once again and Peter plays, loudly, an LP of military marches on his stereo. The three of us discuss Peter's bowels, &c. He tells us that his grandmother died at 4.30 this morning. I am embarrassed. What can I say? Should I dress in a black pullover and sing lamentations of mourning? Or do I ignore the situation? Mr Mather showed no emotion, and the whole family looked happier than usual. They seem to think that the old girl is better off out of it. At 80 she's had a good innings anyway.

In bed at Ty-Onnen

After a ridiculously late breakfast Peter, Chris, Lynne and I go to a remote forest (Dalby?) which seems miles away, and where Peter attempts to feed a bunch (or whatever the collective noun is) of ducks, over-fed ones too. To be honest, they didn't touch a crumb which was a bit 'off'' really because I expected more from them after we'd trailed half way across North Yorkshire just to see them.

Chris Ratcliffe, the Horsforth banker.

Back to Ty-Onnen for dinner and then on to Pickering cinema to see 'Josie Wales'. Yes, I've seen this one before too. Lynne stayed at home complaining of a headache and saying she was going to brush up on her Spanish. Christopher decided to return home tonight and I decided to accompany him. Fog. Back at Pine Tops for 12.30. Have a letter from Uncle Harry with details of his mother's birth-place &c, and details of the Upton family. Uncle H is brilliant.

Sunday January 9, 1977

1st after Epiphany. Emerge at a late hour yet again but this time to the sweet serenade of Mr Peter Mather. He questions me on the latest intrigues, &c. He tells me that _____are in London for the weekend and that Chris had not so much of a party more of a 'tiny booze up' last night at the Ratcliffe pile. Where was my invitation? _____.

A day at Ty-Onnen. I refuse to help Lynne clean her car and sit with Mr M watching a black and white Jack Hawkins 'classic'. Anything's better than standing out on the drive with a soapy wash leather in one hand and a bucket in the other.

After dinner Peter announces that the film 'Jaws' is showing at the Pickering Empire, or Plaza, or wherever. I must have paid for that bloody shark three times over and kept Robert Shaw in luxury for the rest of his days the amount of times I've seen the film. They both enjoyed it. The bit Pete liked best was paying a mere 45p to see it. A saving of 55p on the Leeds cinemas.

Bed at 1.30 after more television.

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Sunday December 5, 1976

2nd in Advent. Have a nightmare and wake up having committed a murder! Don't know who the victim was and what were the motives, but I distinctly remember dropping a body from a bridge into the sea. Weird.

Climb out of bed at some ghastly hour and Lynne attempts to clean her car in freezing temperatures. You can imagine what happened. The whole bloody machine iced up and the sight of Lynne trying to remove frozen soap suds from the windscreen was amazing. She is so bloody willful though - I couldn't persuade her not to attempt this ridiculous exercise in the first place. To thaw out we go off to Pickering and have rum and oranges in the Royal Oak. Two or three drinks and Lynne is in Never Land. Incredible! Back to Ty-Onnen where she proceeds to clown around on the carpet like an imbecile. Mr Mather thought she had gone quite mad and he kept muttering, almost to himself, that he could not understand how I had put up with her for so long. He's a tremendous laugh and frequently says: 'Well, you're still sticking with her, Michael.'

Mr & Mrs Mather, Peter, Karl, Lynne and I watch TV all evening. 'Rising Damp' and then a Paul Newman epic based on the life of a ridiculous American boxer, Rocky Graziano. A name that sounds as though it belongs on a menu in a Italian restaurant. Drink a few whiskies and we all boil and sweat with the ridiculously hot central heating. Bed at 1.30.

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Friday November 5, 1976

A perishing cold day. Drive with Lynne to Thornton-le-Dale and at 8 o'clock we go with Mr & Mrs Mather and Karl to Scarborough in the hope of getting a glimpse of some beach bonfires & fireworks, &c. No such bloody luck. We are too late. After Donald, Vera, Lynne, Karl [for it is they] ate ice-cream whilst I supped a can of shandy we all departed to a remote mountain not far from Scarborough where Karl was let loose with his fireworks. Unimpressive things they are too. All Lynne can do is moan about the [cold] weather. I laugh at the sight of her stood wrapped in a one of the tartan car blankets. Mrs M is frozen solid too. After 10 minutes we depart for Thornton-le-D once more. Lynne complains about being tired again. My God she is only 19! Mrs M insists that Lynne is always tired because of the constant gas leak in her office. We laugh.

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Sunday October 24, 1976

19th after Trinity. United Nation's Day. Up at a late hour again and devour one of Mrs Mather's nice breakfasts. Lynne and I then set to and wash her car. One hell of a job. In the midst of this we go for a walk around Thornton-le-Dale parish church and then for a few miles down a quiet lane to a place the name of which escapes me [Dalby?] Back at 4pm to complete the polishing of the car. A lovely, autumn afternoon.

After [the] evening meal we watch TV all night but my allergy to the cat and dog renders me completely useless. Drink whisky but I'm so blocked up I can barely taste it. Bed at 12.30. Took a sneaky photo of Lynne compiling her diary sitting in bed. Should prove funny when results come through. I always enjoy muyself at Lynne's parents' house. When I compare them to Mr & Mrs Phillips it's quite incredible. Total opposites. Poor Carole. With a Mum & Dad like that why bother reading horror stories?

It's rumoured in the Sunday Express that the Duchess of Gloucester is pregnant. We shall have to wait and see.

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Monday October 11, 1976

Leave Thornton-le-Dale at 7.30am. Leeds at 9.20. Not bad going, eh? Work was yak. Home to paint the banisters in the hallway and watch a farce of a film on TV. Nothing of excitement to report at all.

Baby John Philip Hugh paid his first visit to Pine Tops yesterday and made a great impression. John & Maria came for lunch I think.

Bed at 11.30 - midnight. Sorry about being so boring. I'm in no mood to elaborate.

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Saturday October 9, 1976

Lynne lands at Yeadon Airport at 3.30pm. Donald & Vera Mather and Karl came 10 minutes before the plane landed and Brigadier Kenneth Hargreaves, Lord Lieutenant for West Yorkshire, represented the Queen. The massed bands of Princess Patricia's Own Light Infantry serenaded Lynne's arrival with the lament 'The Flowers of the Forest'.

To Thornton-le-Dale. Peter and Chris were already at Ty-Onnen on our arrival and we all settle down to a meal at 7 o'clock. Tia Maria flowed like water. [Tia Maria is water, isn't it? - Editor].

Romantic night in Pickering with Lynne, Peter and Mr Rat. Pickering is hardly the Soho of the north, but we had a good laugh all the same. Peter is so narrow mined though. [That's beside the point, Michael. Let's not get rude about the brother of the lady you happen to love]. Back at 11 o'clock to watch Phyllis Diller on TV, then Michael Parkinson and Wilfred Hyde White and the late Vincent Price. Also saw a Googie Withers epic until 2am by which time Lynne had fallen into a coma and only Mr Mather and Mr Rat survived. Sad eh?

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Monday September 27, 1976

A wet, awful day. Do you recall how I said on Saturday that people who mention the so-called drought to me will have their balls crushed in a vice and be made to sit through a complete performance of the Max Bygraves TV show? Well, I'm now increasing the sentence to the death penalty. Silly Denis Howell wants his head examining.

My photographs of Christine White's 21st and my weekend at Thornton-le-Dale came today. All good, but one of Lynne and I, and one of Lynne at Castle Howard have not developed.

From 9 until 11am I painted the gloss bits of the bathroom. Quite a pleasant job really. John rings later to say Maria is going into hospital at 2pm tomorrow for tests, but we assume immediately that the time has come at last.

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Thursday September 16, 1976

Still no Maria developments. Go with Lynne to the Hare & Hounds, the Red Lion and then the Stoney Lea. The latter place is packed with prostitutes and what appears to be a coach party of married, fifty year-old women, set free for the night. Disgusting. One tart in particular was seducing a little chap young enough to be her grandson.

Lynne is gorgeous. She's in a new pullover - Angora wool I think. Her hair is flowing too. She is more luscious with her locks hanging loose. Not that she is unattractive with her hair in a bun you understand, but you know how sexy I think long hair is. Don't I go on at times?

Home at 1.30am and Lynne almost has a weep in the car. Thornton le Dale may well be an attractive village but the Mathers should never have moved there. She had a savage argument with Peter on Sunday about the whole business. Sad.

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Monday September 6, 1976

Up at approx. 6.45am and have breakfast with Lynne, Peter, Jane, Karl & David. I had forgotten how childish 15 year-olds are. Not having been associated with that group for some six and a half years I seem to have got out of the hang of it. We leave T-le-D at 7.25 for Leeds - the journey takes 90 minutes. Lynne is a good driver really. A pleasant but quiet trip into boring Leeds and all in all we counted 17 dead rabbits flattened on the homeward road. The recording of the number of our dead 'furry friends' may seem a somewhat sombre excercise, but anything to take the mind off the obnoxious silence of Miss Jane ____, and her bilious brother, David, in the back seat. Do all thirteen year-olds have trouble with wind, or is it me?

Work uneventful. Ring Tony, Lynne and mother [in that order. It's not an order of preference either]. To meet Lynne tomorrow; Tony on Wednesday, and will see Mummy at tea time.

New items: The Earl of Leicester is dead, and so too is the 300 year-old wife of former YP chairman Colin Forbes Adam. Peter N passes his driving test.

Nice to see the family again. Mum says Maria is showing no sign of delivering her son into the world. Have a bath and smoke a cigar in front of a Dirk Bogarde film. Lynne nips up with the luggage then drives off in a great haste.

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Sunday September 5, 1976

12th after Trinity. Out of bed at midday for a cooked breakfast with the Mather family [except Donald, who is decorating]. Horror of Horrors! I smashed a rare Meissen plate when I dropped a half-ton butter dish onto it. Mrs M laughs it off but I feel terrible. I never break anything at home. I also accidentally knocked Peter's electric razor off a dresser, showering particles & bristles all over the kitchen.

Lynne and I then creep away to the Cayley Arms. Talk about things. We don't like Jane, and neither does Donald & Vera. I say how much I like her parents - which isn't crawling - but quite sincere. Only us in the pub, which isn't very nice, and so we go for a drive round for an hour or so. Bright sun. We laugh at the sight of a massive 18 stone woman astride a tiny, pathetic, crippled pony, which seems to be dying beneath the weight. Lynne wants to contact the NSPCC or something. Isn't that for cats?

Back to Ty-Onnen for hilarious lunch and then settle down to watch 'Cromwell' starring Richard Harris and with Alec Guinness as the martyred monarch. Retire to bed at midnight after cuccumber sandwiches and Tchaikovsky's 'Swan Lake' on the record player. Listening to Lynne and her father discussing work over supper I realise how terribly ambitious she is. I don't like ambition one bit. I tend to think people become eaten away by it and finish up like Hitler.

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Friday September 3, 1976

Lynne comes at 7 and after a few sandwiches we go up to Bramhope to collect David __[surname held back], a weedy 13 year-old friend of Karl, and brother of Jane, Peter M's girlfriend.

Arrive at Thornton-le-Dale at about 9 o'clock and go to both pubs in the village with Lynne, Peter & Jane. I don't like Jane. A 17-year-old 'know all' who in fact knows absolutely nothing when it boils down to it. Back to Ty-Onnen [the Mather residence] at 11 o'clock with King Edward cigars and a couple of quids worth of beer. Also have two bottles of wine awaiting our consumption. Lynne and I get a bit pissed, but the others look sober. They all seem to enjoy themselves anyway. When everyone else had drifted off to bed only Lynne and I were left [obviously], and we proceeded to drink even more. I'm taking photographs like a regular little Lord Snowdon. Don't ask me what time our orgy of fun finally fell through, but I'm quite sure it was virtually dawn. Lynne is a beaut. People however are saying nasty things about us. "That Mig Rhodes only goes out with Lynne Mather because she looks like Princess Anne." To those misguided souls, whomsoever they are, here is my message: "Drop Dead, Tosh."

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Tuesday August 24, 1976

Come home from work feeling absolutely buggered. Tony rang to suggest visiting the ABC cinema either [on] Wednesday or Thursday, and I say yes to tomorrow night. Give Lynne a ring too and she agrees to accompany us. L says Mrs Mather is far from happy with Thornton-Le-Dale. It's quite understandable really. The Mathers are a close family and are being torn apart because of the move. Lynne is splitting her time between Roundhay and Thornton-Le-D; Peter's working over here but living over there; Karl wanting to stay at school over here, but living over there, &c. It's enough to drive them all completely batty. Poor Vera Mather. My sympathies ineed.

A night in front of the TV. By 11pm I cannot keep my eyes open. Why? It must be the water, or rather lack of it. Yes, the drought is affecting each and every one of us now. Oh, I cannot remember when I last took a glass down from the shelf and turned on the tap to fill it with H2o. My mouth is so dry and I am so dirty. When did I last take a bath? Was it Coronation year? No, it was the day President De Gaulle died because I will never forget the cracking emotion in Kenneth Kendall's voice as he read the 9 o'clock news bulletin just as I sank into the suds. Blimey, do you remember the day when people could actually flush the lavatory?

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Tuesday August 17, 1976

Even hotter today. Work was uneventful, and home at 5.15 and have roast chicken. Rang Lynne today. She's been making enquiries about a flat. Karl wants to complete his final year at Prince Henry's Grammar School and so he'd be able to join her. No doubt she'll want one in the Otley area. I cannot understand why they [the Mathers] had to move all that way to Thornton-le-Dale in the first place. It seems to me that Donald Mather is the only person who wanted to move. Very undemocratic. It certainly would never be allowed to happen in our family. If, for instance, Dad wanted to move out of the area against the wishes of the rest of us, he would be court martialed, and no doubt found guilty of high treason, and executed. The Angolan mercenaries received no sympathy in this house.

Leap into the bath at about 8pm to help kill the boredom. The television is uninteresting and things in general are running at a low ebb. My research into the descendants of Charles II remains incomplete, and I just cannot be bothered to take it up at present. You have to be in the right mood for that sort of thing.

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Monday June 14, 1976

David L 21. Go into the office at 9.30am. Mr Lawson came of age today. Poor David appears to be in a bad way actually. What with the duodenal ulcer and the failure to get a teaching position I cannot imagine him having a wild, revelrous (sic) birthday at all. To be compelled to passing a sober 21st birthday doesn't bear thinking on. MM and Marita are of course going down (to Worcester) at the weekend and I did intend to join them until I discovered that it clashed with the YP Father's Day trip to Blackpool & my name has been on the list for some considerable time. David can easily take offence that I fear he will cut off diplomatic relations when he learns I won't be able to make it to Worcester - my last chance to visit before he finishes for good at the beginning of next month.

Go to Rawdon at 8pm at get a lift to the Dyneley with Marita - it's Lynne's 19th birthday celebrations. Denise, Chris, Pete, Lynne (looking ravishing) arrive at the Dyneley and after one drink we go to the Scott's Arms (at Sicklinghall) again. Lynne and I went with Marita. Fail to get into the right spirit and behave in a sombre fashion all night - even at Denise's where we go afterwards for coffee. I tell Lynne I'll ring her in the week when I'm more wealthy. She tells me about her situation when her Mum & Dad move to Thornton-le-Dale. She'll stay with an aunt in Leeds until Christmas and then consider her position more carefully.

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