Saturday June 12, 1976

A day upon which I should truly be ashamed of myself. It's the official birthday of Her Majesty the Queen and subsequently Trooping the Colour in London and I am not there to lend my support. In 1972, 73, 74 and 75 I have always made a point of attending, and indeed it became something of a ritual, but what with the up and coming holiday, lack of funds and lack of a suitable escort, I decided to give it a miss this year. I climbed out of bed at 10.15 to view the spectacle on television. The weather in London looks perfect and I sit long-faced staring at the TV regretting my decision to stay at home. Please do not take this break in tradition as a decline in my loyalty to the Throne. My feelings on this subject have changed in no way and I need elaborate no more on them, because you, dear reader, are very well aware of my royalist leanings.

Lynn and I go into Otley this afternoon and give the shops a good going over. At 5.30 I attempt to take her for a drink at the Black Bull but to our horror discover the pub isn't open! Home on the bus cursing the English licensing laws.

Peter M and I go out for a drink this evening. Start in the tap room of the Menston Arms, then the Malt Shovel and get to the Hare & Hounds for 10 o'clock. John and Maria are there having a drink and we have a good chat. Chris comes shortly afterwards and the three of us go to Oakwood Hall where Carole and Denise can be seen. At one stage it became so hot inside that we piled out at the back and onto the lawns. Carole had minor hysterics at one point but I ignored them. I do not like being cooped up with her is discos & don't intend being so gullable in future.

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Friday June 11, 1976

Booze-up day again. Eileen and I make our usual venture across to the Central at 1 o'clock and pass a pleasant hour over a lager or two. We bring a few cans back at 2 for Sarah to have a few drinks as well. One can exploded showering the whole interior of the Yorkshire Post building with a splattering of Heineken.

Meanwhile, that night: Go to the Dyneley (Arms) at 8.30 with Chris, Denise and Carole. (Denise is, of course, staying with Miss Phillips). Meet Pete M and Anne, Raymond Bond and Anne's sister, Carol - and of course the lovely Lynne, who is dressed completely in black. We sit together (Lynne and I that is) all night and are not particularly put off by Carole staring at us throughout. Everyone seems to be getting round to my idea of thinking that poor Carole is slightly 'loony'. Her eyes are certrainly strange and certainly her whole appearance is one of a madwoman. I never feel quite safe now when I see her and always my eyes fall upon her revolting wrists and I think to myself: "God! Is that mess all my fault?"

Move on to the Harrogate Arms near Harlow Carr Gardens until closing. John and Maria came. (They joined us at the Dyneley at 10pm. Lynne brings me home at midnight and stays for over an hour).

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Thursday June 10, 1976

The good old Duke of Edinburgh is 55 years-old today. King George VI wasn't much older when he gave up the ghost. Whilst discussing this phenomenon with Mama we got onto the subject of King George's 'Gate of the Year' speech. I have always thought he quoted it in his last Christmas broadcast in 1951, but Mum says the thinks he incorporated the lines into his message to the Empire at the outbreak of World War II. In fact we are both incorrect. The poem by Marie Louise Haskins was used in the king's Christmas message in 1939 and not in the speech he made three months earlier. OK, she is closer than me, and I suppose you're calling me a spoil sport for not conceding defeat.

'I said to the man who stood at the gate of the Year,
'Give me a light, that I might tread safely into the unknown.'
And he replied: 'Go out into the darkness, and put your hand
into the hand of God. That shall be to you better than a light,
and safer than a known way.'

Marie Louise Haskins.

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Wednesday June 9, 1976

A beautiful hot day. Leave work at 12 and come home for lunch with Mum and Dad. After a visit to Guiseley library I scale the lane and collapse in a deck-chair for a couple of hours with 'Princess Margaret and her family' - a book written in 1974. Quite a laugh really.

Three months today I may well be Uncle Michael. Unbelievable, isn't it? John can't believe it; Maria thinks it's all a dream and Dad dreads the grandfather image that will attach itself to him on John Junior's birth.

Tuesday June 8, 1976

It was nice to see John and Maria yesterday. ___________________.

I rang Carole at 9 o'clock this morning to say I can't make it to see on any evening this week and I make it plain that I am in no great hurry to meet her any time in the future. She says something to the effect that 'I thought you'd find some excuse', but we end on cordial terms. It was wrong of me to agree to her demands in the first place.

John came round tonight at 9 for Susan to cut his hair. He stayed for an hour and was in high spirits. Married life isn't cramping his style at all and no one can deny he looks the epitome of happiness.

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Monday June 7, 1976

Weird happenings today. On arriving at work at 8.30 Sarah tells me that she's heard from Marilyn that Carol J is now going out with Tony. After he dropped me off at home late on Friday night he went back to Carol's flat and subsequently stayed the night. This isn't all. They were at the Square & Compass on Saturday night and on Sunday she was helping him move into his new flat. Mrs Johnson told Eileen this morning that this time it's 'the real thing'. _____. I am not supposed to know about this because I might tell D. ______________.

Carole (all these bloody Carole's/Carol's are so confusing aren't they?) rings before lunch to ask me to go for a drink with her one night this week. Foolishly I say I will and ask her to contact me on Thursday. Afterwards I realise that for the first time since we split I am giving in to her. Tomorrow I will ring her at her work and cancel the date. I'll speak to her if she's out with the rest of the crowd but never again will I be subjected to a private liaison in a public house or anywhere for that matter.

A hot summers day. Very much like yesterday and I only hope that the weather will remain at the same temperature for a couple of weeks so that I'll be suitably primed and ready for the forthcoming Ibiza extravaganza.

My mind is pre-occupied throughout the day with thoughts of Lynne and whether or not we should go out together. ___________________.

John and Maria come at 9 o'clock and stay until 11.45. Maria is in great spirits and seems delighted by the photo albums. She says her child, if a boy, will definately be John Philip Rhodes, Jun. She borrows my Chambers Dictionary with the christian names in the back, to research possible girl names. Charlotte seems to be on the cards.

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Sunday June 6, 1976

Whit Sunday. Wake up at 10 o'clock and have a pint of orange juice in bed with the Sunday Express and the Sunday Mirror. The news content in these great newspapers is so exciting that I fall into a state of unconsciousness until 1 o'clock. Leap out of bed and ring Lynne. She is in good spirits and holds no grudges about refusing to let her bring me home at 3.30am. I refuse to have women travelling about at the crack of dawn at my beck and call. She says Peter's been ill all night and he comes on the line to tell me it must have been the food he ate. I agree because Peter never drinks vast amounts of alcohol.

Mum and Lynn are on the lawn and I go outside to investigate. It is very warm and pleasant and I join them in deckchairs and devour cheese and biscuits.

Lynne comes round at 2 o'clock and the two of us go to the Old Ball cricket ground to see the Evening Post All-Stars play cricket. Norman Hunter (ex Leeds Utd) is there and a few Yorkshire cricketers play, but after half an hour we tire of it. We don't like watching the cricket and are too afraid to lie down in the sun. A cricket ball in the back of the throat isn't something I rellish. Lynne suggests going to Bolton Abbey but we decide it will be too busy. She then suggests going down to the river at Arthington for the afternoon and who am I to disagree? We spend a couple of hours on a sandy beach-like bank on the Wharfe. A fantastic, tranquil afternoon, and I feel ashamed that I ever finished with Lynne in the first place. She looks so sophisticated with her hair in a bun and wearing large sun-glasses. In fact she's beautiful. I kept looking at her and smiling broadly as we were driving along _______________. It was such a relief to be able to share a joke with a girl of some intelligence. Carole was always so dull and half-witted. She brings me home at 5.30 and I see Ernest Blackwell watching us as we kiss in the car. I say I will ring her during the week when I have found some money and she smiles sweetly. God. I've only been on the open market since May 4, and already I'm getting involved. Am I mad?

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