Thursday August 24, 1978

St Bartholemew

Nightmare of a day. At about 8 this morning I sprained my ankle, or perhaps twisted it, down in Guiseley whilst going for my bus. I tripped on a crooked pavement and fell through the door of Rhodeses Newsagents shop and landed on a revolving Christmas card display, showering shoppers with cellophane, glitter covered robins, and grotesque Santa Clauses.

Wracked with pain for the rest of the day I staggered about the office to the moronic amusement of my colleagues. What with my arse, and now this.

Jacq dissolved when I told her. She came and collected me with a wheelchair and pushed me across to the Central for a quick anaesthetic. She cried with laughter. The swelling worsened in the afternoon and I had to resort to asking Papa to pick me up at the bus stop to ferry me home.

Reclined in the bath later. Found solace with Lady Chatterley at about 10:30. Dave B accused me harming my own ankle on purpose to avoid working at Lawn Road.

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Tuesday August 8, 1978

More bloody rain. My God what a revolting summer it's been.

Up at 9:30. Fish and chips for lunch with Mum & Dad. Mum heard from Auntie Mabel that Uncle Jack (Myers) now has only weeks to live. I'm so sorry for cousin Jackie.

Tonight: Too knackered to go to Lawn Road. Instead I sat with DH Lawrence reading of Constance Chatterley and her lover.
The book's been missing for years and only on rummaging in the back of a cupboard did I manage to lay hold of it again. Read 60 pages in fact. Why they made such a fuss about it back in the deepest, darkest, pagan 60's God only knows. I thought the 1960s were supposed to be permissive? I've read more explicit stuff in 'Look and Learn'.

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