20120928

Sunday October 2, 1977

17th after Trinity.I received a frosty reception this morning. Mum said my behaviour was reminiscent of Uncle Harry. Dad said he has never seen me as drunk as I was last night. They both set about recalling some of the incidents that took place in the Commercial but I stopped them. I didn't want to hear.

John Pinder, Alison Dixon and Dave B.
Lynn just sat looking at me and grinning and poor Alison dodges out of the way every time I go near her. Evidently I ruined her dress with drink and half drowned her in the process. Poor girl. John (Pinder) and David gave me funny looks too. Blimey, what did I get up to? I can recall very little and shudder to think what passed between Sarah and I.

Lynn, Dave, Alison and John went to Haworth and all that Bronte country for a picnic with the spare trifles and left over pate from last night, and the half consumed bottles of Cinzano. They know how to enjoy themselves, don't they?

I entertained Tony and Martyn. They had a good time at Rawtenstall. Martyn kept saying 'fucking this' and 'fucking that' and dear Mama was only in the kitchen. I registered my displeasure. __________. I didn't mention the Muswell Hill campaign next weekend. They left after half an hour and I re-immersed myself in 'Decline and Fall' by Mr Waugh. The picnic party returned at 5 and Jack Simon came to photograph Lynn and Dave for an engagement portrait. I watched from the window as they frolicked happily on the lawn. Isn't love nice?

Just watched TV tonight. 'Poldark', the Sunday film, and all that. To be honest, I felt horribly tired. Will I live long enough to receive my telegram from the King? If I ever get one from a president I'll tear it to shreds.

-=-

Saturday October 1, 1977

One of the most blank parties I've ever attended took place this evening ... or at least I think it did. Anyway, I'd better begin at the beginning. At what seemed like the crack of dawn I was taken  off against my will, in pouring rain, to Bradford by Alison, John, Lynn and David. (Oh God. I failed to mention that Alison and John (Pinder) arrived late last night from the depths of darkest Hampshire). Oh, how it poured down.

We messed around for a while buying records and flash cubes for tonight, and then after a brief lapse of time we found solace in the nearest pub. From here we found the Bod, which was unbelievable. We were the only inhabitants of what usually is the busiest tavern in West Yorkshire. It was here where we squabbled about surnames. Lynn said that after her marriage she wouldn't mind being 'Lynn Rhodes-Baker'. This made David blow his top for some obscure reason, and banging his glass of ale on the table he yelled: "If you intend keeping that name after we are married you might as well not bother with a party tonight because I'll call the whole thing off". It took ages to calm him down. It was such a silly thing for us all to become argumentative about, but it was David's attitude that fed my niggling. Lynn was very annoyed.
At Esholt: Sarah,Peter,Sue,David,Lynn and John.

Back home by 4pm. I began drinking bilberry wine and continued to do so until Sarah arrived at about 7.45. I was under the impression that we all were indulging in this wondrous wine, but from reports told to me later, I discovered I had been the 'Lone Boozer'. Sarah's arrival I remember well. She looked divine. What happened next though I just don't know. We all went to the Commercial where I spilt lager over everyone and swore in a disgusting manner. Mum and Dad asked me to be a little quieter. My next memory is back at home smashing eggs in the kitchen and breaking my camera. Mum joined in the egg breaking and went to town sticking them down Peter's shirt.

Because of the mess I changed into David's Fred Perry shorts and then became enraptured with Sarah. We seemed to be quite alone in the dining room dancing to Donna Summer and ending with Rachmaninov's 2nd Piano concerto. _______. We kissed, Everyone else just seemed to fade away. God knows what state I was in. Normally it wouldn't concern me but for the presence of Mr & Mrs Henry Baker and family. Sarah stayed very late and I escorted her to her car when she left. I really do fancy her to death you know. It's been in my blood now for a couple of years or more. What about John Macmurray though? I am sure she fancies me - so why are we always pretending nothing exists? Why indeed.

-=-

Friday September 30, 1977

Martyn.
Baby John's first birthday. John called in at lunchtime to collect the presents. The house on Silverdale Drive is up for sale and John has every intention of purchasing two broken down old cottages and a couple of acres of land at Stranraer (north of the border). He's packing in his job too - in these days under a Labour government and with seven billion unemployed. I'm afraid I'm sceptical about the whole business _______.

I phoned Martyn this evening after first attempting to contact Tony, who wasn't in. I haven't heard from Tony all week, which is unusual. Lynn had a brief conversation with him and told him she was engaged. He had already been informed of this via Chris R last week. He doesn't know whether he'll make it to the engagement party either because he and Tony are probably going with Chris to Rossendale. __________.

I informed Martyn of my intention to stay at home this evening, by my fireside, quietly reading 'Decline and Fall'. This I did.

-=-

Thursday September 29, 1977

To Sarah's after work and on to the Leisure Centre at Horsforth at 6.30 for my first ever game of squash. I really looked the part in David B's Fred Perry shorts and shirt, and I could see just how much Sarah was taken by my legs. Woman usually are, you know. We bashed about for about forty minutes and I really quite enjoyed the 'incident'. I didn't do too badly, either. Naturally, I didn't win, but Sarah had every confidence in my eager and forthright attitude. I fancy her.

From here we went with Marilyn (Wheeler) to the Damn Yankee and then to the Regent at Chapel Allerton. The food was good and M told hilarious tales of _________ prostitution activities. _____ By all accounts is 'no good in bed'. We laughed a good deal.

The Regent was hideous. So many people, and so overpowering. A friend of Marilyn's bought me two drinks and wouldn't let me get him one in return. He's going to China next week forever and I'll never be able to repay his kindness. I understand now why _______ inhabits this joint. If a strange man is prepared to buy me drinks, just what are they doing for ______? Eh? Know what I mean? Wink, wink.

Sarah brought me home and I wanted to drag her in the back of the car and show her a thing or two, but for some reason I just said 'good night' and watched her drive off.  ________.

-=-

20120923

Wednesday September 28, 1977

Lynn and Dave became engaged. He presented her with a ring at about 7.30 and then took her off to Flashman's for a feast. Before this, however, we put away three or four bottles of that champagne substitute which tastes even better than the real thing.

Rt Hon David Steel: cause of nausea.
Lynn looked sublimely happy and I am sure it was a great relief to poor David, who just wants to settle down without any hullabaloo. Mum, Dad and I put away a few lagers after Lynn & Dave had left and then opened the Pernod. They returned at about midnight and we continued with the celebration session. Lynn especially was somewhat pissed and confided in her fiance to feelings of nausea. I was in a similar position too, but it was not all down to alcohol. David Steel and the Liberal party conference on the BBC was the cause of my intermittent vomiting, which completely flattened the whole occasion.

I took quite a few photographs of the happy couple, and so too did David. He now refers to me as 'Our Kid' and I'm sure he'd really like me for a brother. His own brothers are very sober, serious young men.







-=-

Tuesday September 27, 1977

Not a particularly wild, passionate or even remotely exciting day. I sorted out Lynn and David's engagement announcement with the fat lady on the reception desk and if all goes to plan - which no doubt it will not - the historic announcement will appear on page 32 of the Yorkshire Evening Post tomorrow evening.

'Mr D.A. Baker
Miss L. Rhodes

The engagement is announced between David Andrew, second son of Mr & Mrs H.T. Baker, of Farthingstone, Old Pool Bank, Pool-in-Wharfedale, and Lynn, elder daughter of Mr & Mrs L. Rhodes, of Pine Tops, Hawksworth Lane, Guiseley, near Leeds.'

Evelyn Waugh.
Otherwise, it was all quiet on the Western Front. Continued reading 'Margaret: Princess who appears quite a lot in the Daily Express gossip column' by Willi Frischbender. Nothing new in it at all. Mum, who is also reading it, keeps saying: 'Thank God we didn't buy it'.

'Decline and Fall' by Evelyn Waugh gets better. What a remarkable mind that man had. The character of Paul Pennyfeather is excellent and everyone who reads the book will be drawn immediately to his side. He calls for so much sympathy. The innocence of the principal character too is wonderful. Oh why don't I just go to sleep?







-=-

Monday September 26, 1977

Work was quite lazy. We made a birthday card for Michael Robertshaw, whose birthday it is today - his 21st. Eileen has been quite a misery since returning from honeymoon and today she smiled once or twice but is still quite off -hand with me. The reason for this I fail to understand but it must have something to do with Christine Byram's party. I have no intention of worrying about it anyway.

A Woody Allen film on the BBC tonight.'Play it Again, Sam'. Thoroughly hilarious. That actor is one of the funniest men alive I'm sure.

Mr Fishmonger's book.
Roddy Llewellyn.
Edith Blackwell has lent us a copy of 'Margaret: Princess without a cause' by Willie Fishsomethingorother. I fully intended purchasing it but after glancing over it I am so glad I haven't wasted the £5.50. It is just like the Helen Cathcart biography with a bit of extra spice gathered from the cheap Sunday newspapers and gossip from the European and American journals. Coincidentally the papers today have stories about Margaret in them. According to one, Roderic Victor Llewellyn (born October 9, 1947, son of Sir Harry Llewellyn, KB, and grandson of Sir David Llewellyn, 1st Baronet) is being groomed as a courtier with the intention of marrying him to Princess Margaret after her divorce next year. From his pedigree it's easy to see he is not the sort of low 'drop out' he's been made out to be. He is at least in Burke's  Peerage. Grandson on the paternal side of a baronet and on the maternal side of the 5th Baron de Saumarez. The young man no longer wears an ear ring and the t-shirt embossed with 'Roddy for PM' on the front has been replaced by pin striped suits and sober ties. It certainly seems he is being prepared for the trappings of royalty.

I retired to bed with Willie Fishmonger's boring, bitty book. I could do a better job and certainly get more of the facts right. Mr Fish 'n Chips in merely a profiteer, a sensationalist, a scoundrel. In fact I'm in two minds whether or not to go on reading it. 'Decline and Fall' by Mr Waugh is far more entertaining and certainly more of a bedtime book. Who knows what nightmares I'd be subjected to if I were to drift off to sleep after reading of the sexual exploits of Princess Margaret, which I am sure are based on nothing more than the idle chatter of ignorant people.

-=-

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...