Friday September 29, 1978

Out of bed at 6:58am and plunged into a hot bath. Whilst tucking into my hot porridge oats I plugged into the radio news at 7:30 and was astounded to hear that Pope John Paul had died in the night from a heart attack after a reign of only 33 days. It's the shortest pontificate since Pope Stephen in 700 AD, or so. I find this hard to take in. Quite ridiculous that all the cardinals are going to have to crawl back to Rome for another conclave.

I spent most of the day playing with the late Pope's pictures. Chris Bye came into the office cheerfully waving a fiver & laughingly told us that on Aug 26 he'd been into Ladbroke's and placed a bet that the new pope would only live for 33 days. Yeah, right. It would finish it off very nicely now if our own Cardinal Hume was elected pontiff. A good English lad at the Vatican to show these Italians a thing or two.

Mum and Dad went off to Scotland this afternoon to see John and Maria in Stranraer. They took JPH's birthday presents with them and are staying for the festivities and returning on Sunday evening.

Tonight I battled through driving rain to see Jacq in Leeds. We met at 8:30 and went to the Central, where she became quite legless on cider. I intended going on a pub crawl but we enjoyed the loud, pulsating music of the disco in the pub, and we stayed until 10:30. She frowned when I suggested moving on to Len's Bar. She knows Sarah hangs out there on Fridays.

I got the last bus out of town at about 11. Sue and Pete were watching TV. He stayed the night. Young love.

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Thursday September 28, 1978

Wet and miserable. Christine phoned again today. It looks as though we'll have an illicit rendezvous again next week ~ possibly on Thursday. We are little beggars at times, aren't we?

Have little cash and so I decided to forgo my weekly piss~up with Pete, Gus and Chippy at Oakwood Hall. Instead I sat in with Mum and Dad and we lived it up slightly by orderng a Chinese take~away from the place at the White Cross. Jim and Margaret came up at 9 and we sat watching a Deborah Kerr film. At the earliest opportunity I escaped to my bed with Hitler.


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Wednesday September 27, 1978

David the brother~in~law collected Jacq and I in Leeds at 5:30 and took us to Burley~in~Wharfedale. Lynn poured sherry down us and we sat by the fireside. Susan and Pete arrived at 7:30. Dave went out for fish & chips and we had a collection and bought another 'pop bottle' full of sherry from the proprietor of the off~licence store at the end of Lawn Road (is she Mrs Beasley?). Lynn, clutching an empty pop bottle, is making far too many calls on this lady.

We sat until 10:30. I took Jacq to a bus stop and deposited her on a 733 to Leeds and then went back to say goodbye to Lynn. They are unbelievably short of money. It's refreshing to find someone else in financial ruin and destitution. They look so happy though.

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Tuesday September 26, 1978

Very wet day. Christine phoned me twice today ~ on both occasions she was bored to tears. Her latest escort gave her the push over the weekend. Nothing much else was gleaned. She was in good form, which is more than can be said of her behaviour last Monday when we were out with David L and Jacq.

A bit of royal news now I think: The Daily Mail gossip columnist Mr Dempster said today that the gorgeous Princess Michael of Kent is wearing maternity clothes and looking radiant with it. She and Prince Michael were married as recently as June 30 and I can't see anything occurring quite so soon. It's not even three months.

The Prince of Wales and Countess Angelika Lazansky have been together at Balmoral recently. The Daily Mail says the Czech exile is a girlfriend of the Earl of Cawdor. I cannot see the prince marrying a 30 year~old Roman Catholic lady. The Prince of Wales really should take more notice of young English beauties. Elizabeth Diana Manners, for instance. She's a niece of the Duke of Rutland. For the time being at least I think we will have a bachelor Prince of Wales.

Saw the second part of "Roots" on the BBC and retired to bed with Adolf at 11 o'clock.

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Monday September 25, 1978

John's 22nd birthday. In Stranraer ~ no doubt knee deep in heather, haggis and Moira Anderson. I couldn't think of a more ghastly fate. He received his birthday parcel because Dad ran into Molly and she told him they'd been to Ayr Races and had called to see John and Maria at Lochans at the weekend and his presents were displayed in the caravan. __________.

I met Jacq on Wellington Street at lunchtime and she handed over Sue's shoes and trousers, borrowed on various occasions after 'orgious' activities, &c.

We are going to Lawn Road for tea on Wednesday. Mum and Dad spent the evening with Lynn & Dave tonight, while Sue, Pete and I sat bunched in front of the TV here. I buried myself in Toland's 'Adolf Hitler'. I'm reading about his escapades in the 1920s at the moment.

I poked around in the kitchen undecided about just what to devour and finally gulped down a jar of glacé cherries. To bed at 11.

Note: I knew that Mary Malcolm, the ancient broadcaster, was a granddaughter of Lillie Langtry, but had no idea that Mary's grandfather was H.S.H. Prince Louis of Battenberg, 1st Marquess of Milford Haven.

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Sunday September 24, 1978

We had breakfast at Pine Tops on our arrival home and then collapsed until about 11. Lynn and Dave arrived for Sunday dinner and we spent the whole day relaxing with Mother.

Jacq looked ridiculous in her Pontypool rugby shirt, and we laughed a good deal about poor cider~stained, bedraggled Eric the Tit, all forlorn and damp upstairs.

Saw "Lillie Langtry" on TV ~ another historical drama ~ starring Francesca Annis as the Victorian beauty. Jacq left at 9:30 and an hour later I was in bed with Adolf Hitler.

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Saturday September 23, 1978

Sun rises 06:48 sun sets 18:58

Not too happy today. Could have had a good fight with anyone who cared to try it on. Lying in my bed this morning I decided to go to this so~called fancy dress party as a Harewood House Bird Garden attendant, with one of Delia's stuffed birds stitched to my left shoulder. Ingenious, eh? I spent a couple of hours busily sewing Eric (the little Tit) onto an old white t-shirt.

Susie and Peter took me to Leeds at 8:30 and we joined Jacq and Hayden at Len's Bar, where a few other fancy~dress goers were gathered. I could see a couple of French maids, the odd clown and a very poor imitation of Queen Victoria.

Eric the Blue Tit created a sensation. I was a bit cool with Jacq (who was dressed in a Pontypool rugby shirt and footless tights masquerading as a punk rocker) and found her constant chatter with Milky Bar Kid Haydn (yes, it's spelt the same way as the famed composer) somewhat irritating.

Sue and Pete left for a disco at 10 and Jacq, the Milky Bar Kid and a female Mexican Bandit and I left to get a taxi to the Railway Station. What seems like hours of hilarity followed. We didn't get to the party until after midnight. We laid on an hours free entertainment for tired British Rail passengers, performing a circus act upon a luggage trolley and giving an adequate rendering of "Singin' in the Rain".

Stanmoor Drive was our destination and a bemused taxi driver found it quite easily. We were met by the hostess (the French Maid) but to our horror the booze was already running dry and our couple of bottles of cider looked pathetic.

Jacq did a good deal of scrounging and we knocked back sherry, red wine, and home brewed champagne. Naturally, at about 4am I brought it all back up on some unfortunate cabbage patch on Stanmoor Drive, Burley, Leeds. To my surprise Carol J and Marilyn were in the throng, but they left early to go to another orgy in Horsforth. Marilyn drank my cheap cider and insisted on prodding Eric (the tit) before leaving. I must say I was the most original character in fancy dress. However, I switched from being a Harewood Bird Garden operative to being the Bird Man of Alcatraz.

Jacq and I were among the last to leave and we walked to Guiseley arriving at 7:30am. Jacq was fed up and exhausted on the journey and at one point was reduced to tears.

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