20130617

Thursday June 8, 1978

Pay day. I gave Mama £25 for the money that would usually be extracted from my holiday pay, which I need to take with me abroad. This leaves me with a mere pittance with which to survive the ensuing week.

The start of this weekly slide towards Hell rolled up tonight in the shape of Mr Peter Nason, who took me off to the Shoulder where we were joined by Chippy, Gus and Dave Wainwright. I find the company of these young men refreshing to say the least. So lively, crude, buoyant and vulgar. What is it that festers the brain of young men on or or around their 21st birthdays?

At 9:30 we moved on to the social club at the asylum (Highroyds Hospital) where we were joined by Sue and Janet Simon. Peter immediately flew off the handle at Sue's intrusion on this, his Thursday night off. I was annoyed at Peter's childish (pre 21 year of age) show of buffoonery. What is the point in going out with a girl for six nights each week, a girl, I might add, whom you intend marrying, and then just because it's Thursday and you accidentally meet you hurtle abuse and be generally rude in her direction? I see no sense in this at all. In fact it's more Sue's fault for tolerating such behaviour.

The girls left at 11 leaving us unable to decide which young people on the dance floor where club members, members of the public or highly dangerous top security patients. It proved an impossible task.

On to Oakwood Hall. I was pissed. Enjoyed it there. Bumped into a girl who is engaged and bought a Britvic pineapple and sat with my arms around her until 2am. Home with Gus. Cut my finger opening a tin. Infuriating.

-=-

Wednesday June 7, 1978

Her Majesty the Queen celebrated her (Silver) Jubilee one year ago today. Our poor, overworked monarch has a nasty duty ahead of her next week. She has to entertain the 'unspellable' president of Romania at the palace for three or four tortuous days and I don't think HM will be looking forward with an pleasure to this. Wasn't HM's great-aunt Helen, a princess of Edinburgh, and granddaughter of Queen Victoria, Queen of Romania? Helen wed into that shaky Balkan monarchy which fell in 1947. However, if the said president's visit helps Mr Callagas sell a couple of verticle take-off planes to the commies it will all have been worthwhile.

Anyway, Sarah finally got away today. Can you believe that her grandmother stood on a red table in the garden in Horsforth waving franticly as Sarah and Delia flew off from Yeadon? Such a pleasant, Goon-like sight that must have been.

The YP is hell without my whistling knee-grasping companion. Kathleen ought to retire _____________.

Tuesday June 6, 1978

Sarah goes off to Palma with Delia tomorrow, and to mark the occasion we had a wild lunchtime together. We bought sandwiches and went to Park Square and noshed and swilled tomato soup in the light drizzle. Yes folks, summer is over.

From Park Sq we went to Len's Bar and downed one, tiny drink and I bid her a fond 'bon voyage'. She and Delia are having a party on June 18 and so the ritual 'Father's Day' spectacular trip to Blackpool will be abandoned. The experience would be too great anyway, and with a holiday looming it would be sheer, unadulterated financial folly. Besides, the parties at Ivory Towers are equally entertaining.

-=-

Monday June 5, 1978

New Moon 20:01

Jacq has been told by some of the inmates (at the YWCA) that the haggis is a four-legged rabbit-like creature that inhabits the Scottish Highlands. What a cruel and nasty leg pull to do to a fellow dosser, or 'down and out', or whatever they think they are at the YWCA.

Jacq has set herself the goal of making my greatness known to the general public. Discussing me with John Mac on Saturday they decided I'd be a decent sort of author. Er ...
-=-

20130615

Sunday June 4, 1978

2nd Sunday after Trinity

I do believe my dear friend Mr Ratcliffe celebrates a birthday today. I would never have remembered had it not been for David's observation of this in Harrogate on Friday.

Forgive this 'yucky' ink but I'm afraid I cannot be bothered to take down a bottle of sensible coloured ink from the shelf. Yes, I am a lazy sod.

In thunderous conditions we drove Jacq to Leeds at 9:30 ~ taking cousin Julie with us ~ and from Leeds we went on to Uncle Peter's to give him back his eldest daughter. The Wilson girls are very nice. Beverley and Julie are very quiet and polite, but Penny is the joker with the glint in her eyes and toothless grin. Peter was 'out at the club putting his numbers on' whatever that means. We departed at 10:30 in a homeward direction.

-=-

Saturday June 3, 1978

Sun rises 04:48 Sun sets 21:10

Hot again. I got out of bed at seven o'clock and made Jacq a cup of tea. I haven't been out of bed at this time on a Saturday for years.

Today is the Queen's official birthday. Birthday Honours: Sue Ryder is a new peeress and Freddie Laker a knight.

I took Jacq to her bus at 8:30 and walked home in the hot sunshine up Thorpe Lane. A beautiful day. A big breakfast with the family at 9:30 and then watched the Trooping the Colour on the BBC. Princess Margaret made her first public appearance since her divorce. The Queen Mother too was at Horse Guards Parade. I love the Queen Mother. She's now an institution in her own right. 'Go it, old girl!' The poor Queen must have been hot in that uniform.

At 11 Mum and Dad returned from Pudsey with my cousin Julie, who is staying the night. _________.

I met Jacq at 5:30 in Guiseley and we walked to the White Cross and sat outside in the sun. Home by 7:20 and Sarah and John Mac come. We went to the Harrogate Arms and the Damn Yankee. John and Jacq not too cheerful. Carole and Fogarty were in the Damn Yankee but we didn't speak. By 11:30 we were at home. Sarah at the end of her tether at Mr Mac's indecisiveness. In fact tempers were jagged. 

I calmed them all down with coffee and sent them home, including Jacqui.

-=-

Friday June 2, 1978

Her Blessed Majesty the Queen was crowned a quarter of a century ago this day. Jacq and I and a few close friends celebrated in the correct style. Her Majesty would be ever so proud of us if she only knew just how much we drank to commemorate this day.

Hot. Again I met Jacq at Parker's wine bar for a few beverages at 12. She was horrified today because for the first time she learned the full extent of my lack of finances. She sat reeling on the bar stool with the colour drained from her divine cheeks as I informed her I only earn £32 per week (after Mr Healey's deductions of course). She orders me to resign with immediate effect and seek employment elsewhere. It's not quite as easy as that though, is it?

At 4:30 I made good my escape from the YP.

This evening Mum and Dad gave me a lift to the Station Hotel. Jacq arrived and the two of us went to David L's where we sat with him and Mr & Mrs Lawson until Andy and Nicole arrived at 9 o'clock. From here we went to the Traveller's Rest at Crimple, near Harrogate. A riotous night followed which saw us drinking pints of beer through gaily coloured straws. Isn't it supposed to make you pissed? Haven't been to the Travellers Rest for years.

It was good to be out in David's company again. He seems to get on well with Jacq. He plans to throw his Christmas party slightly early this year ~ in August ~ because when he starts his new job December will be the busiest period. The year wouldn't be the same without a party at Tennyson Street.

We piled in back home at 11:30 to sample wine. Poor Nicole was pissed. Jacq stayed the night. She's working in the morning. We laid on the floor together reading 'The Times'. I explained to her the rudiments of newspaper librarianship. To bed at about 1am.

-=-

Saturday May 5, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds Poor Diana Dors has run down the curtain and joined the choir invisible. Aged 52, she has suffered from cancer. We laz...