20100611

Sunday October 26, 1975

22nd after Trinity. Get up in time for lunch. Tell Mum and Dad about the Craven Heifer, wherev they have never been. They like the sound of the decorations and I tell them how impressed I was with the stone fireplaces and things.

John and Maria go to Shrewsbury this afternoon to stay with Elizabeth Macdonald, Maria's elder sister who is a lecturer. You'll laugh at what I am about to say because I always say it about John's girlfriends. I realise that I said the same thing about Christine White, Carol Smith, Naomi Downing and all the others, but this time I mean it when I say that I can hear wedding bells chiming merrily in my ears. OK, so they are always arguing, but surely that is what makes a good marriage, and besides, the time they spend together in bed must mean they like one anothers company a little bit at least. I wish them all the luck in the world anyway because Maria is my favourite of all John's mistresses. They return home on Tuesday I think.

Carole rings at 2pm to say that she and her parents have had yet another disagreement. She stormed out of the house and refused to devour her Sunday lunch. I meet her down the lane at 3 o'clock and we go for a walk over the golf course. The sun is shining brilliantly and I'm looking forward with rellish to a decent hike over Baildon Moor when suddenly her shoe capsises beneath her, and though she protests that all is well, I make her accompany me home. It's dangerous to walk on uneven ground in damaged footwear. Broken bones is not the thing I want my darling to get. (Clever grammar isn't it?) We get back home and play records and listen to the radio until 7, and then we watch TV until 10. A good film starring Warren Mitchell was on, but she had to leave before it finished to wash her lovely locks, &c. I walked her to the bus stop and managed to be home in time to see the end of the film. Romantic little devil, aren't I?

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Saturday October 25, 1975


I get up at 10.30 and after a small breakfast Mum gives me a lift into Guiseley where I meet Carole at White Cross. We go into Leeds and spend a couple of hours chasing around different shops. I buy a pair of trousers and contemplate getting a cardigan but Carole advises me otherwise.

At 1pm we go see 'Love Story' starring Ally McGraw and Ryan O'Neal. Though it's already a few years old I have never seen this so-called 'weepy' classic. Lynn and Sue saw it with Mum and Jackie M years ago, and when Denise and Marita went to see it they had to sit for an hour afterwards to cry it off. I thoroughly enjoyed it, and have to admit to feeling choked at the end. Carole wept like a three year-old. It was just too much for some people when the second feature was about a ten year-old boy dying from an incurable disease. A woman in front of me sobbed very loudly for two hours or more.

Mum had a letter this morning from Dacre Son & Hartley saying that the Craven Heifer at Addingham is on the market for £50,000. She's actually going to see the bank manager on Monday about the possibilities of getting a loan. Addingham is a fantastic place and I intend investigating the Craven Heifer as soon as possible.

To the Hare with Carole at 8.30. She has false finger nails and they look and feel fantastic. I have this erotic thing about being mauled by a lady with beautifully pointed finger-nails. Perhaps it will come one day.

At 10.30 we go to the Craven Heifer with Martyn, Alison, Peter, CB, CD, Chris, Lynn and Dave. Would you believe John and Maria are babysitting!!! The pub is immaculate and just the thing Mum & Dad will like. I can see them in it now.

On to the Cow and Calf until 2am. Christine B and Carole: one word -bitchy.I hate that.

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Friday October 24, 1975

Busy day at the office. Pictures of the one-year old Earl of Ulster, son of the Duke and Duchess of Gloucester, are in most of the papers. The likeness between the earl and his father is striking indeed, though I wouldn't say he is a particularly good looking child.

On the subject of the peerage I must say something about Chris Monckton. Chris Dawson was in the office today and he tried to get Sarah to 'take him (Monckton) out' - Chris M must really fancy Sarah because Dawson never seems to be able to let it drop. Sarah says she couldn't possibly date a future viscount whilst the Prince of Wales is still unattached! A clever girl is our Sarah, but I think she should settle for Monckton. I believe in the old saying about 'a bird in the hand', &c.

News: General Franco is getting worse, but this time I'll keep my mouth shut on the subject of Juan Carlos and whether he'll be King of Spain tomorrow. Franco could linger for years and years.

Tonight I go down to Carole's and we make our trip across to the Hare & Hounds. Stand with Sue and Pete for most of the night, and are joined by Alison and Martyn. It's a quiet night really and nothing sensational happens (other than Carole of course, who is always sensational). At 11 Carole, Sue, Pete, CD and I go up to Harry Ramsden's for supper. The other three leave for home on foot shortly afterwards while Carole and I play around in the leaves for nearly two hours. The night is warm and we have a great laugh, and more and more I am realising that Carole means a lot to me. I know I've said it all before about other girls, but I am sure that I am in love.

I walk home in the beautiful night air, and on my arrival home sit with Mum, Lynn and Dave until 3.30. We argued about official nicknames and Dave didn't believe me when I said that Harry was often used as a nickname for Henry.

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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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Wednesday October 22, 1975

Up at 7.30 and dash around like something not right for half an hour. As usual it is to Leeds with Jim. Nothing scandalous or anything in the office at the moment so I'll narate something else instead.

I will have to start sorting out my vast collection of letters and other items of nostalgia. Drawers and cupboards in my room are packed with them. Letters from June Bottomley, Christine, Judith, Carole and Dave Lawson are just about taking over the upper part of 58, Hawksworth Lane, and certain indelicate subjects raised in Carole's latest despatch make me somewhat edgy.____________.

After tea we sit in front of the television. 'Carry On Doctor' gives everyone a laugh. I always watch these films with the intention of passing sentence of death upon them, but end up bent double with galloping hysterics.

At 8.10 John and I get in the car but it won't start. In a torrent of abuse I hurry down the lane only to miss the bus and find myself walking all the way to Carole's. I meet her with Mrs P coming out of Oakridge Avenue and I get the impression they had given me up for dead. Mrs P winds her way to Highroyds and Miss Phillips and I nip into the Hare. It is boring in the Hare tonight. After a rum with a few Coca Colas we go back to Carole's for yet another drink. At 11.15 I miss yet another bus and walk home yet again.

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Tuesday October 21, 1975

To the office with Jim Rawnsley at 8.30. Items of interest in the news: Crown Prince Fahd of Saudi Arabia arrived at Heathrow yesterday and I was amused to see our beloved Prime Minister grovelling on his hands and knees on the tarmac, in homage to the fat, arabic potentate. The Duke of Gloucester too was in the official welcoming party and I noticed him running after the crown prince in a feeble attempt to make polite chit chat. Little Richard was no match in the race to the VIP lounge and whilst Fahd and the Prime Minister were busily knocking back the duty free vodkas, HRH was fighting his way through the body guards yelling: "I'm Richard of Gloucester. I'm supposed to do the talking!" (No he didn't, I'm just getting carried away).

Nothing much else in the news other than Ireland and I'm not going to dwell on that.

Carole rang me at work and so too did CB, who was going out with Michael Ives until Saturday when she became intoxicated at Mark Naylor's 21st birthday party and left him to his own devices. A little raver she is!

Carole rang again at 8pm and we chatted for ten minutes or so. We are going out tomorrow night and I'm meeting her at 8 o'clock. I always clam up on the phone and can only really talk to Carole when we meet in the flesh.

Heard on the news tonight that General Franco had a heart attack today and is probably on his last legs. He's 82 so I'm not surprised. If I last as long I'll go quite happily.

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Monday October 20, 1975

No work today. Glad really because I never feel up to it when I've been travelling the day before. Evidently Sue and John threw a small party last night in honour of Carole and Maria. After champagne and God knows what, they retired to the numerous vacant beds upstairs. John and Maria were in his bed, Carole was in mine, and Sue and Peter were in her bedroom.

Lynn, David, CD, and Martyn Cole were of course visiting Alison in Southampton, and Mum and Dad were spending the night with Uncle Harry at Ravenglass, his new place of refuge. Poor Harry took up employment three weeks ago as a chauffeur and general dogs body for a wealthy man and his housekeeper at Cockermouth. After a tour of northern Scotland, on a staple diet of marmite sandwiches, H got a bit aggressive and resigned, leaving the old gentleman and his lady stranded miles from anywhere! Harry is not the most patient of men, and to picture him in a chauffeurs uniform is too ludicrous for words.

I didn't get up until 11am and after taking a bath I had luncheon with Mummy and Daddy, Sue and John and we discussed the pub business once again. Poor Mum didn't complain this time about being let down, but she so much would have liked the Station. Breweries just don't seem interested in them at all, so I imagine they'll have to buy a free house.

Carole rang me this afternoon and told me I sounded 'different'. As far as I know I don't think I've changed much in four days, but who knows.

Go down to her place at 8pm with John. Sit for half an hour with Carole, who looks divine, Mrs P and Peter, the elder of her two brothers. They discuss sex before marriage and fire questions at me to see if I can be embarrassed. To embarrass Mr Michael Rhodes is just about an impossibility.

We dashed over to the Hare for a few hours and came back to her place at 10.30 to see a film about Lucrezia Borgia (1949). It was quite good really, and I stayed until 12.30.

Walking to White Cross Dad saw us whilst driving around in his cop car and he ferried me home.

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Sunday April 1, 1984

 4th Sunday in Lent Mothering Sunday New Moon Sunny, bright, &c. Smothering Sunday. All Fool's Day. Busy. Rob came and so too did th...