Friday March 11, 1977

CB's 21st party. It's a happy birthday also today to Lady Falkender's best friend.

CB: pot fulls of pernod.

Up at 9. Yes, it's my day off too. Leapt into the bath and then prepared for my visit to Pudsey. Susan contributes a few bob to my Auntie Mabel Flower Appeal. To Auntie Mabel's for lunch. On the way I bump into Uncle Peter and Auntie Jean who are out shopping. Chat for a few minutes. Stay with Auntie M until 4pm.

CB's 21st (birthday) party at the Hare. Only spent 67p. Everyone got incredibly pissed up. Remember Marion Read? Maura Tobin? (see diary for Jan or Feb '75). Howled with Marion. She's quite mad. CB drank pot fulls of pernod all night (the pot is in fact a Silver Jubilee Commemorative mug).  At one point I was having to hold her up and we danced round the crowded room. We even kissed. She kept saying 'I didn't know I had so many friends'. David L came but was quiet. I chatted with MM. Tried to seduce Marita. Fondled the future Mrs Christine Airey. Judith said 'yes' to tomorrow night. Good.

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Thursday March 10, 1977

Half dead all day after the excesses of last night. Buggered is the word.

News: Gough Whitlam said some ill mannered things about the Queen at a banquet in her honour. What can we expect from the Aussies? Culture? Manners? Prince Edward is a teenager. President Carter has been making strange phone calls to lots of weird people in America.

To Batley Variety Club with Tony and Martyn. Madeline Bell sang. Absolutely brilliant. Why she hasn't been more of a success I will never know. Blue Mink, the group with whom she was the singer, were good in their day but she's a star in her own right. She has a good sense of humour too. I only spent 60p or so. Yes, it was one of my first attempts to 'pull in' as Denis Healey would say.

Tony says I've become subdued over the past couple of weeks. Why? He tells me that Carole and Fogarty are not contemplating an engagement. _____propaganda machine must be failing, eh? It's Tony's birthday next Wednesday and he's taking Martyn and Carole to Batley. I'd like to go but with £3 left it's impossible. Besides, with Miss P attending I'd only spoil things.

Thank God no work tomorrow. I feel as though I've been slaving away non stop for weeks on end. Should I perhaps change my job? I do need the cash desperately  but I'd miss the mob at the YP and the dear old news cuttings.

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Wednesday March 9, 1977

Christine Dibb and Graham Airey got engaged. It was a good party - better than I expected. Went with Tony, Martyn and Gayle (Martyn's distant cousin of Oakwood Hall fame). Teamed up with CB and we danced together. I could see Mr ____________seething. Why does Mr _______always accuse other males of stealing his so-called women when everyone knows all along that they were not his women in the first place? CB was fabulous anyway.

Christine & Graham.

Laughed with Lynn about Mr _____ and _____gossiping. In fact Mrs ______was far from pleasant this evening. Bitchy really. Carole came in minus a toe nail and spent most of the evening with Tony. I ate nothing and drank much. Pissed up really.

Peter M told me that dear Lynne is now the regular escort of an officer of the Queen's Dragoon Guards or the Green Howards. Peter says the new specimen is worse than me.

Tony talks about a trip to Brands Hatch a week on Saturday. So far me, Naomi and Martyn are going. Camping for just the one night. Is Brands Hatch in Kent?

Sue and Peter were quaint and  John stayed in the bar avoiding ________lampooning. I mislaid my jacket but CB retrieved it for me. Home at 12, 1 or 2. I don't know. Take your pick. Sit in bed feeling pissed. Still reading Evelyn Waugh (diaries). Really bogged eyed. Pathetic really. It was all for a good cause anyway. Will the engagement last?

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Tuesday March 8, 1977

David's 21st and Auntie Mabel's 58th. I phoned Auntie M at Marlene's and she seemed quite cheerful. It's her first (birthday) without Uncle Jack and it must be weird.

David: 21st birthday.

Not a particularly good day.Went to the EMI shop and bought 'Songs In the Key of Life' by Stevie Wonder on behalf of Mum for dear David___________.

I received a jolt over breakfast when Lynn informed me that my ex-consort, Miss Mather, will be attending David's party. Nothing to worry about I suppose. Made an effort to ring Tony but he didn't answer. I think he may be out with Martyn and  the Il Trovatore ladies (see Friday's entry).

The Queen made a slip today at the state opening of the Australian parliament. HM referring to her Silver Jubilee celebrations as 'the twenty fifth reign of my year' instead of 'the twenty fifth year of my reign'. Not a big mistake but it gets world-wide notice because she's usually word perfect.

No more tonight. It's becoming a drag having to sit into the early hours of the morning copiously filling in all the useless information.








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Monday March 7, 1977

Went to Rawdon to see revolting Hough about my teeth, but he had no knowledge of my appointment. Stupid eohippus. Not wishing to waste my journey I went to see Marita, who was sat in front of the TV. She startled me by saying she was going to dancing lessons tonight and rocked me to my very foundations even more by saying MM is virtually a qualified dancing teacher. Latin American and all that!  Blimey, he's kept that quiet.

A typical day in French Revolution Paris.

Returned to Guiseley by 6 and passed a thoroughly ordinary evening at home. Well, not quite as ordinary as I would have liked it to be. Mum, Dad and Lynn became somewhat aggravated - heated - call it what you will, when I announced I was intending visiting Mr 'Tammy Wynette' Osborne, manager of the Yorkshire Bank, to obtain a loan. I was immediately declared to be on the path to ruination. Mum seemed to be beside herself with passion invoking the name of Uncle ______ as an example of how I might end up, They were successful in talking me out of seeking a bank loan for the time being, but for a while the scene was somewhat reminiscent of a typical day in French Revolution Paris.

Saw Clint Eastwood in 'A Few Dollars More' and had a hot bath at bewitching hour. Read until 1.30.



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Sunday March 6, 1977

2nd in Lent. Lynne's birthday. Oh God I've just called my sister by a strange name. It's her bloody birthday too. I am sorry. She's just been in my bedroom looking quite ravishing showing me the presents she's bought David for his 21st.  I bought her a bottle of French perfume which she seems to like. Her boss comes round at 10.30 with a bouquet making overtures of affection to her in the kitchen. ________.

Lynn: 19th birthday.

The Prince of Wales has gone off to Kenya shooting the wildlife. Good for him. This gives a good two fingers to these thoroughly boring conservationists, environmentalists, &c.

John, Maria and JPH come up at 2. Baby is making a bit more noise and says "Da Da" and then "Da Da Da" when provoked. Eat turkey, pate, ham - and sup glass after glass of Cinzano. The mean contingent keep reminding me that I have to go to work in a couple of hours and I sit sombrely contemplating the clock. Chris Baker and his girlfriend Julie Harris drop in for half an hour or so.

The YP tonight was absolutely dead. Just Ursula and I. No news. No catastrophe has struck East Ardsley or anything like that. Reading the paper I see that the Prince of Wales is not shooting crocodiles. He is in fact taking photographs of them with Claire Watson, and maybe Miss Sheffield.

Hon Claire Watson: shooting crocodiles.

Home by taxi at 12.30 with a little driver who is a leading authority on snake bites.












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Saturday March 5, 1977

By the time I had climbed out of bed, bathed and shaved it was one o'clock. Quarrel with Lynn about money. She says I am a damn fool and I end up agreeing with her. I have only £2.30 to last me until Thursday and £1.30 of that will disappear on Monday when I visit the dentist. This leaves me with 80p to enjoy myself at Christine & Graham's engagement party. I also need about 90p in bus fares! Shit. Ah well, if I start worrying about financial matters life won't be worth living & so I won't mention this again.

After lunch the sun was still shining brightly and I decided to take a stroll. With hands thrust deeply in my pockets I marched down the lane at a speed not unlike James Hunt in a Grand Prix. Pass the Hare and by 4pm I'm in Burley-in-Wharfedale. By 5 I was crawling through the doors of WH Smith in Ilkley to a warm greeting from the sultry, bespectacled shop assistant whom I fear fancies me. She is a 6th former. Mr Brotherwood entertains me to tea of sausage and mash. he finds it hard to believe I've walked the whole of the eight or nine miles from Guiseley. I passed out in a chair whilst attempting to focus on a Robert Mitchum epic.

with Christine: ruby studded turnip?

Martyn comes and we end up back at the Hare. CB is in and once again she is broken hearted and screaming for vengeance or revenge or whatever they call it when ones pride has received a sharp blow in the genitals. To the Rose and Crown. Boring. CB is incredibly attractive.


 Tony gives me his flat key and then disappears to Il Trovatore with Martyn. CB and I go back to the flat and sit drinking Southern Comfort and Scotch and listening to a Billy Paul LP. She says it's disgusting how she comes running back to me every time one of her relationships is floundering. What are pals for? We laugh and chat. She says she wants nothing but a turnip for her birthday which I'll do my utmost to obtain. I suppose if I were the Shah of Persia I'd give her a solid gold one (turnip) studded with rubies, &c. But I'm not the Shah of Persia.  The lads are ringing the doorbell at 10.30 and our  tete-a-tete comes to an end. Martyn goes home and the three of us squabble. I fail in everything I say because they're both Pisces and I'm a just a cynical Aries who argues for the sake of arguing. 

Mr Billy Paul

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