Saturday April 30, 1977

Mama and the whole household are spring cleaning this morning and so I dress and escape with a pile of library books and Miss Rushworth's umbrella in the direction of Guiseley. Called at Bedside Manor and handed over the stolen umbrella to Bill Rushworth. He's a real weirdo. Grumpy and positively frightening. However, Mrs R. is extremely pleasant. Judith climbed out of bed and joined me in her lounge. She looked ghastly without the help of cosmetics and complained of a headache. I left after 10 minutes.

Lynn

To the library and got a further volume of Queen Victoria's correspondence with her eldest daughter (1871-78).

Had a record session all afternoon.Only Susan & Peter N are at home for me to annoy. Tony rang to say he wouldn't be at the Hare tonight because Linda doesn't like the idea. _________. I quite fancy Linda myself.

Martyn and Ruth, who are also a doomed relationship, are joining me at the Hare. Went down with Sue and Pete at 8.30. CB left shortly afterwards with a familiar, unnamed face, and Miss Dibb and fiance came in too. Chatted with Judith and Dave (working in the bar) and got along famously. The new manager seems like a decent enough bloke and when Lynn and Dave came in L approached him and got a bar job for Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday evening. Lynn actually behind the bar! David Andrew is far from happy with the idea. How snobby and petty can you get? The whole situation would be different if Mum and Dad had bought a free house pub. Oh yes, you're allowed to work in a bar if you own the bloody place, but being a common serving wench is a different bloody matter.

Peter and I went to the Chinese takeaway on Otley Rd and got some for Sue too. Played my BBC 50th anniversary LP which Peter hasn't heard before. Bed at 2am. Dad came in ten minutes later stoned out of his mind. They'd been to Flashman's with Charlie and Betty Davidson.

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Friday April 29, 1977

CB, on the phone, wakes me at 10.45. The beautiful thing wants to know if I fancy a session at the Black Bull this afternoon but I tell her about the Official Receiver and how he simply wouldn't like me to go. We compromised and said we'd go see Maria and JPH instead.

Played the record player full belt and took a bath and before I knew it it was lunchtime. Cheese on toast with Mama and Papa. Went down to Maria's with great, gaping holes in my shoes. Like a bloody tramp.

Christine: the beautiful thing

Christine came after ten minutes and we gossipped. Yes, no other expression can be given to what we were doing. Not one of our acquaintances escaped the vile insinuations of three idle, coffee swilling peasants upon this dark, unholy afternoon. I saw a look on CB's divine face as I bounced JPH upon my knee, a look I've never seen her show before. I cannot describe it but it spoke a million words.

Paddy Braithwaite brought me home at 5.30. Christine is incredible. I will always feel exactly the same way about her but I do realise nothing will ever come if it and any deeper relationship would only lead to disaster.

Compelled this evening to go out with my peep-toed shoes and felt guilty about it until Martyn showed me the soles (or lack of them) on his feeble footwear.

Tony and I had a quick one in the Hare and collected Martyn and went to the Bod again. Packed out it was and with a profusion of our colonial friends and relations. Met a couple of ladies - one from Halifax. Peter M, Chris and Steve Hudson came in. They're taking Lynne to Manchester tomorrow because she's flying to Ibiza. Denise is going too and they're making a night of it. Peter says he's not _____________.Why? On the way back from Halifax (after taking Mary home) I told Tony that Peter told me last year that the only reason why he (Tony) associates with me is because I am a friend of Denise and he wants to be near her. We laughed. Tony sees Denise sometimes a couple of times a week. I haven't seen her more than a handful of times since last summer.

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Thursday April 28, 1977

Hangover. Rain all morning. Sunshine all afternoon. Soddin' April. Got a £10 postal order for Mr Barclaycard as a contribution to my holiday. God, I only have £50 and I need another £90 in just two weeks time! I'm ruined. Completely and utterly ruined.

Mama and JPH

John, Maria and JPH came for tea and afterwards they left the little treasure with his grandmama whilst they went off to see George Waite about an MGB GT they're thinking of purchasing.

I've a good mind to go and get married because financially things can only improve. Baby watched 'Top of the Pops' and stayed up until 10 o'clock and only grumbled slightly towards the end when his mother came and collected him. JPH is much more attentive now and he played a few games with his grandpapa - throwing his toys on the floor for the old man to pick up seemed to be the main theme.

Saw the second programme in the 'Royal Heritage' tv series. Prince Philip was showing us one of Henry VIII's weapons in the Tower of London and the Prince of Wales was all at sea on HMS Bonington going into detail about the Spanish Armada and Drake and all that lot. Very interesting.

Rang Tony at 7 but he's in Worksop having tea with John Cameron's bit of stuff - the name of whom escapes me. Rang back at 9 and arranged to meet tomorrow. He told me a sad tale indeed of Carole and Peter Fogarty at Denise's last Sunday. Tears, swear words and throwing of engagement rings. Yet they are still engaged. Spoke to Martyn too and told him about Stockport. He may have some golf planned for May 14 but he said he'd do his utmost to keep the day clear.

Don't remember what time I went to bed but it was quite early because I wanted to avoid the by-election crap on the BBC.
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Wednesday April 27, 1977

Am I becoming boring again? Do let me know if I am. A lovely day with the birds singing up above, and all that.

Glynnie.

Sarah is in high spirits and we laugh just like in old times. Everyone's become far too serious lately. O for the joys of Spring!

Rang Judith at 6. She was in the bath but her mother acted as a messenger girl and I'm told she can go out tonight but not tomorrow. I have no money but Mama - bless her - has promised to lend me a couple of quid until I come into my fortune.

John and Dad are under the car again. I will nominate both of them to His Holiness for canonization. St Lawrence, patron saint of Old Bangers, &c.

Princess Caroline

To get to the important things: The Queen and Queen Mother are visiting Baron and Baroness Philippe de Rothschild in France and the Prince of Wales and Duke of Edinburgh are on their way via Nice to Monaco. Is it wedding bells for Prince Charles and Princess Caroline? I bet the Mail and Express will be hinting at this in the morning. Sarah makes me laugh. She says Princess Caroline is "lacking in virtue".

Dave from Stockport rings at 7.30 to see when we're going over to collect his £142. May 7 or May 14 seem to be possible dates. I've only got about £50 saved up. Aaarrghh!

Met Judith at the Hare and Hounds at 9 o'clock - she is of course with Kathryn (who is very nice) but I would like to see Judith alone occasionally. Stay until about 11 and feel a bit pissed, as indeed I always do when I'm with Judith. Kathryn takes us back to her chambers at Highroyds (the asylum) where we drink wine and mess about with her typewriter. Back to Judith's for fried egg and rissole sandwiches until 2am. Home very tired and with a heavy head. Kathryn driving, of course.

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Tuesday April 26, 1977

The great battle with Kathleen never took place. She came in at 9 o'clock and did a Neville Chamberlain on me. In other words she appeased me and for a few minutes I was astounded. "Before you have chance to say no and refuse me" she said "I'm not going to ask you to work Friday nights". That's my little problem solved.

Carol: like Princess Alexandra of Kent

Sarah demanded some action on Carol's behaviour but Kathleen pointed out that the editor and other great officers of state would be on C's side. Allies as it were. Carol came in the office and paraded about as though she was Princess Alexandra of Kent. Sickening it all was, and Sarah looked piteously dejected when we left this evening. We talked of resigning.

At tea time I asked Susan whether Miss Phillips and Mr Fogarty were becoming engaged today. She says that they entered into a matrimonial agreement on Saturday. Minutes later Tony rang and he mentioned Carole. He rang her today and she told him she 'wasn't really bothered' about being engaged and it had been Peter (Fogarty) who had pushed all the way. Does the girl realise just what she is doing? I never intended leading her on but she is now actually engaged to a poor soul with whom she feels nothing but indifference. Martyn has said she is doing all this to spite me and my reaction was that it was a far fetched suggestion but now I'm not too sure. Lynn plays hell about Carole when I tell her of the conversation and she says Carole's attitude is 'immature'.

It pissed down all morning and blinded us with bright sun in the afternoon. I think I'm very tired. My eyes ache and I feel unpleasant too. I don't think I can put up with the strain much longer.

I just sat in front of the television and watched another play. The nine o'clock news boring as usual with the same old story about the 'stricken oil rig'. One oil rig is very much like another. Pleasant sort of person aren't I? Retired to bed at 11 after a bath. Sat with Queen Victoria and the Princess Royal, or Crown Princess of Prussia, or the Empress Frederick or whatever you call her.

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Monday April 25, 1977

A revolting day. Went to the office fully expecting a battle with Kathleen, over what I don't quite know, but to my great disappointment she is taking the day off.

Scargill: signed photograph

Sarah and I joined a trade union this afternoon. Yes, Jack Jones and that lot. A revolting thing for me to do in Silver Jubilee year but no one, and I mean no one, is going to cut my throat. I'm fully expecting a signed photograph from Mr & Mrs Arthur Scargill and red badge in tomorrow's post. I do feel somewhat restless as to what I'm going to say to the beloved chief (Kathleen) in the morning  but the main theme will be centred around the Friday night working - or lack if it.  I think I'll change the subject now, anyway.

Some boring oil rig has gone and sunk, I think. Billions of gallons of crude oil is giving Bridlington's director of tourism something of a headache. Black shit all over the beach cannot be a good advertisement, can it? I can't stand Bridlington anyway and besides, the cleansing of thousands of soggy seabirds will give the out of work landladies something worthwhile to do.

Read more of the 'Dear Letters' and watched a play on TV. Nothing more startling. Spike Milligan was on followed by repeats of 1969 Monty Python. Bloody hilarious they are - so good to see good comedy for a change. Better than all that 'My Neighbour Next Door' shit and 'Never Mind the Quality Feel the Tit'.

Bed at 11.05 with 'Dear Letters'. Looking forward like Mr Churchill did on the eve of Dunkirk to sticking one over on Kathleen tomorrow. Let not victory be denied ...


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Sunday April 24, 1977

2nd after Easter. Arose at 12. Edith Blackwell had just been in and Mama had entertained her to breakfast of eggs and bacon of all things. A peculiar thing to do I must say. Mind you, Edith is a peculiar old thing. (Yes, you've guessed correctly - "thing" is the word of the day).

I came down and had a cooked thing and went back up to my thingy and filled in the thing with that thingummy. Thing, Thing and Thing are covered in grease underneath John's thing on the drive. Those bleeding things never work right. I for one wouldn't have the patience to mess around with them. Not rellishing the idea of going into the thing this afternoon. No doubt thing will have left me a note informing me of a proposed catastrophic change in my social life. No Bloody chance, Kathleen!

The Hon Chris Monckton

Sue and I walked round to Ridgeway and took JPH for a ride, walk, push, call it what you will, in his pram. Jimmy was marking essays and breaking wind. He blamed the beer he'd had of late. Maria bundled baby up and Sue and I walked him in the sun up Thorpe Lane and to Pine Tops where he was pandered to and played with by his doting grandmama until his benevolent Uncle Mike returned him home at 4.

To work after dinner. Ursula confirms that Kathleen's plans for Friday nights are as sinister as I thought they were.

Chris Monckton invited me to his Silver Jubilee party at Wetherby Town Hall on June 18. I must go to that one. He has a sister you know and I'm sure a 'Hon' in the family would prove quite refreshing. The Hon Miss Monckton is about my age too.

Home by taxi at 11. The taxi driver talks of the death of the Leeds Rugby League player Sanderson who died on the pitch this afternoon during a skirmish with Salford players.

To my bedroom at 11.30 with Queen Victoria's correspondence with the Empress Frederick and vice versa, 1865-1871.

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