Saturday December 1, 1979

_. Last night I slept behind Graham's wardrobe encased in a sleeping bag like a bedouin tribesman. Graham meanwhile slept in his very large bed.

At 11 Ally left for Graham and Charlotte's wedding in a furious temper. She clearly did not want to go. Lynn, Dave and I went into Winchester to shop and spent an hour in a pub, The Old Vine, where the staff were frightful. The barman would have been more at home in the Third Reich than an ancient Winchester tavern. Lynn consumed vast amounts of brandy and Babycham. A woman, in the ladies toilet, grabbed Lynn and accused her of being Olivia Newton-John. Went to collect Ally at 3 but she wasn't ready and so we went back at 4.

At 7:30 we went out, the four of us, to a pub at Micheldever, and then at 9:30 to the Plough at Itchen Abbas, all singing Christmas carols and very much under the influence. We left at 11, to Frank Sinatra on the juke box, and Lynn waltzing around the bar with Graham. We asked Neil [the excellent barman who performs wonderful elephant impressions] to join us at Chillandham Cross but he sadly crashed his car on the short journey and was unavoidably detained on his neighbour's lawn. Back at the house we drank gallons of gin. Dave disappeared and Graham, Gill and I discussed the YP and the great Gordon Linacre at some length. We sat with gin until after 4am.

-=-