Friday April 19, 1974

Up at 9. Sit listening to the radio until half past, then get the bus to Leeds. Arrive at YP at 10.30. Kathleen was pleased that nothing difficult was thrust upon me last night. Quite a boring day really. Home at 6 and immediately had a bath. John rang Chris and arranged to meet at the Emmotts. I was furious and after all the things I'd said about the place yesterday I was in two minds about going at all. But surely enough at 8.20 we were inside, having the honour of drinking the most expensive beer in the area. Philip Cartwright and his latest play-thing, Jane, sat with us. Dave, MM, and Marita came in and I stood with them for the want of something better to do. The three of them were in the highest of spirits, but______. Marita, the sweet thing, bought me a drink. They left at 9 and Chris, who had only just arrived, John and I moved on by bus to the Yorkshire Rose. I hate the place and was only too glad at 10.30 when we were able to move on to Wikis. To my surprise, Andy, Keith and busty Heather were already propping up the bar. We settled down at a table and I was quite ready to fall into a deep coma when Little Helen spotted me and rushed over. From then until 2am the two of us danced nearly non-stop. Chris disappeared mysteriously at 1.30 and John looked miserable as sin. At 2.15 I walked Helen home. We sat in her tatty lounge until 3.30. She was very drunk and woke the whole household up. I made my exit and walked home, and I found it most pleasant. The birds were singing and the night sky was nearly gone.

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Thursday April 18, 1974

Rose at 11. Decide to make resolutions. 1). Never to go the Emmotts again; 2). Not to post a letter to June, and to try and forget her. Lynn and Sue are in the bath, seperately of course, which prevents me from bathing until 11.30. Mr Little and Stuart come and collect Stuart's dart board, which he left on his last visit in February. The little horror had no shoes on his feet! Later: Mum, Dad and I go into Guiseley and I browse around the library for half an hour. Get no books.

Go to the YP at 5. All the girls gone, except Kathleen that is. We have a very quiet night, and I find it very enjoyable. Kathleen and I discuss my career over a coffee and she thinks that journalism is what I should aim for. She intends making inquiries in that direction.

Whilst filing I notice that Richard Crossman, the Labour MP, died on my birthday and think it strange that little publicity has been given to the fact. The Express recently said he had cancer, but that is all.

The cheerful man who does sporting activities, I can't remember the name, kept yelling: "What would you do if an important person dies?" However, my capabilities cover the personalities side of the library, and it's things like Turkish politics, etc, which I find worrying. The cheerful sporting character laughed when he discovered that I was going home by taxi, saying: "I knew from the very start that you had class." Kathleen went at 10.15 and I held the fort alone until 12. Taxi came at 12.15. Home by 12.35. All expenses paid as well!!


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Wednesday April 17, 1974

Up with the larks at 7. Kathleen works wonders with my new rota at the YP. My first night shift begins tomorrow night at 5 until 12. The company is even to pay my taxi expenses which is a marvellous move. It seems therefore that my luck is in full strength this week. Forsee a lazy day tomorrow with no work until 5. Home with Judith who is very high spirits today. Driving at 6.30 - slightly better on last week though I feel as though I will never make a driver of any good repute at all - this fact is mirrored in the distraught face of the instructor. At 7.30 John says he's going out to the Emmotts, having had a conversation with Chris. I agree to go with him.

Andy, Linda, Christine W, Chris and self make up the party. Quite lively discussion. Conversation ranges from hospitals to cars, Napoleon and Josephine (were they really the great love story everyone, except ITV, makes out?). Christine really seems to loathe John now, and he realises this. Chris was moody again and didn't talk much. Christine, John and self have decided to stop going to the Emmotts. We are quite sick of the place now. Both John and Christine like the Hare and Hounds. Home at 11.30 on bus. Write a 'heart rending' letter to June then decide not to post it. She really does create more chaos with my life than everything else put together. Everyone laughs at my infatuation for her. Chris says she is too immature by far to appreciate my feelings for her. He's probably very correct.

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Tuesday April 16, 1974

Mum wakes me at 7. My first day back at the YP. I feel weak and ill after last night and vow never to drink gin again. I have a coffee and leave Uncle H asleep in the lounge, not venturing in to see him because it cannot be a very pretty sight. At the office I find a letter on my desk: "Dear Michael, I have some rather depressing news for you. David is leaving the night staff this Sunday (last Sunday for you), so you will have to do a night duty when Ray has his night off; don't panic. I will try to work a late shift with you and stay until about 10pm so it shouldn't be too bad. I've arranged your extra payment and will sort out transport when I get in on Wednesday. It's all a bit sudden and came as quite a shock for all of us. We''ll have a talk about it when I come in. Hope you had a lovely holiday!! Kathleen." My eyes lit up when I saw the sentence about extra payment. Anyway, I quite look forward to getting away from horrid, little Janice Williams. My new driving licence came today and at least I can drive round Aireborough legally again. John took a day off, regardless of what Dave Slater wanted him to work and I've told him he does right. Why should he have only one day off at Easter when all other civilized beings on earth have 2? At 8 I have a hot shower, then see the news on tv and a documentary on Baron Philippe de Rothschild, the French wine producer. Come to bed at 11 and read the Bruce-Lockhart diaries. -==-

Monday April 15, 1974

Bank Holiday Monday. Rose at 10.30. Sunny but somewhat cold. See a 1953 film "Young Bess" about the early life of Elizabeth I. Quite entertaining but absolutely wrong factual detail.

At 2 John and self go to 21, Victoria Drive, Horsforth, the home of Chris. We stay all day. John, being quite tiresome, watches a Tarzan film purely because Chris and I want to watch something on the other channel. However, we had a tremendous laugh and ventured to the Fleece at 8. Joined by Pete, Bruno, Linda, Christine W and Andy at 9. All back to Chris's at 11. The Ratcliffes came home at 11.30 from Lancashire and the merry little clique disintegrated. I find Mrs Ratcliffe and tremendous character & I stood for 20 minutes discussing the neighbours with her. My sole consumption at Chris's was one gin and orange. Peter brought us home at 12. Uncle H was drunk in our dining room, and Mum, Dad, Sue and Peter were all on the way. I had 2 large gins with orange and some beer. Uncle H fell on the stereo and smashed the lid - Sue was in pain with laughter and poor Peter thinks our family is mad. At 2am I am sitting with Uncle H, cigarette in hand, listening to all his worries, etc. He thinks I'm neglecting Sam on purpose, but why should I visit a strange relative in an asylum for no reason at all? He was sick and I cleared it all up. But the room smells like a sewage plant, or worse.

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Sunday April 14, 1974

Easter Day. Rose at 11 o'clock. See a religious epic film on the BBC. They always give the public some fanatical religious film on Easter Sunday.

Turkey lunch is very successful. Mum reveals some startling things afterwards. Whilst reading Elizabeth of Glamis she notes that George VI had the same operation on his leg in 1949 as Uncle Bert had at Christmas time. If George VI and Uncle Bert have anything in common, poor uncle will be dead within 3 years.

John rings Chris after 6.30 and agrees to meet at the Hare and Hounds. I don't like the idea and want to go to the Emmotts, because June nearly always goes on Sundays. John says I must be insane, and I realise I must try and stop this crazy infatuation. However, it is so frustrating to know that she will be sitting in one place whilst I am sitting, equally miserable, in another.

Susan told an amusing story of little Margaret Saxton when the little girl walked in the room on Friday (Good Friday) and sat next to Sue looking terribly miserable. "What's wrong?" asked Sue. "I'm very upset", she replied. "They crucified Jesus today." Very sweet.

Meet Chris and the Hare and Hounds at 8.30. A very pleasant evening indeed despite the small numbers. Chris, John and I make such a happy team.


"Seasons in the Sun" Terry Jacks.

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Saturday April 13, 1974

Terrible day. Cold, draughty weather. Rise at 11. Mum is going berserk with anger. Evidently, in my haste to devour a sizeable supper last night, I, inadvertantly of course, turned off the cooker timer which made a bugger of the fat turkey sitting within. At 10.30 Mother discovered the bird uncooked, and of course I was blamed. I left the house quickly, in order to escape the wrath of Mama, going to Guiseley library again, and collecting several loaves from the bakery. After lunch Chris rings and we meet in Otley at 3.15. Chris is half an hour late. An incredibly cold afternoon. Lynn and I complain constantly about the weather, and Chris drags us into a tatty riverside cafe where he devours several horrid egg sandwiches. Lynn says the coffee tastes like washing up water, and after several sips I quickly agree with her. The three of us sauntered near the river before returning to the bus station. Bid farewell to Chris. We agree to meet at the Emmotts at 8. John and I caught the bus to the Emmotts. Chris was already propping up the bar, and Pete joined us after half an hour. The four of us were herded near the door and thousands of people kept cramming in. Andy and Dave Baker (Bruno) came half an hour after Pete. We then went to the Westbourne at Otley, which Chris hated, but everyone else had a tremendous time. Pete was in his usual sarcastic mood, and inevitably, Chris suffered. A bar extension until 11.30 enabled us to get rather drunk. Bruno was nearly copped by the police near Harry Ramsden's, but he took s side-street thereby shaking them off. Home after an exciting evening. -==-