Wednesday April 21, 1976

The Queen, 50. Do not hear the alarm clock again and Mum wakes me at 8.20. To Leeds with Jim Rawnsley and study the national newspapers immediately upon my arrival at the YP. The Queen's party at Windsor went on until 3am today - and at 2.40am Her Majesty's time of birth - she was dancing around the Waterloo Chamber with the Duke of Edinburgh.

Some papers criticised Mr Callaghan for not attending and I can only see this as a snub to the Queen. Uncle Harold Wilson and Thatcher attended and even Edward Heath. She is already a legend in her own lifetime and it's hard to imagine how we could ever manage without her.

Meet Carole at 8.10 but only have one drink in the Hare before returning to our place for a coffee. She is behaving quite differently today bit I pretend I haven't noticed. She is doing her utmost not to be 'lovey dovey' and too serious with me.

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Monday April 5, 1976

Historic day today. My 21st birthday and the departure of Uncle Harold from No. 10 Downing Street.

Lynn got me out of bed at 7.30 and I didn't feel in a birthday spirit really. She gave a beautiful clock and Susan gives me £5 - good of them.

Work was boring and my mind kept wandering to thoughts of poor Carole suffering with her bruises and scars.

Meet Carole near the Ostlers at 1pm, and although she's covered in make-up, I can still see the bruising. She gives me a (birthday) card from her mother which has £2 tucked in the front. Hypocritical keeping it? No, we spend it on booze. Why not get as much as we can out of the bastards whilst we can?

Home at 4 o'clock on the 33 bus & I teach Carole the words of '21 Today', &c, which raised a few laughs.

Susan tells me that Callaghan is the new Prime Minister. I feel a great sense of loss by Harold's departure. I'm far from being a Labour voter, but that little man with the black bags under his eyes and smouldering pipe, inspires me somewhat.

Party at Pine Tops for my birthday. Cut a birthday cake. John, Maria, Carole, Lynn, Dave, Sue & Peter, Mum and Dad. Lots of booze and chicken and chips. Carole still very quiet and looks so miserable. She's obviously ill.

Carole stays the night - 5 nights running.

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Sunday March 28, 1976

4th in Lent. Mothering Sunday. Mrs Hilda Gadsby's 40th birthday.

I didn't climb out of bed until 12 o'clock. Mum and Dad went out for a tete a tete in some distant bar.

A beautiful tea attended by John, Maria, Marlene, Frank, Auntie Mabel, Mark, Debbie, Lynn, Dave, Sue, Peter, Carole, Mum, Dad and me. Auntie Mabel's clan arrived at 2.30-3 o'clock and Lynn and I entertained them over our photograph albums until Mum & Dad returned home. Tea was then prepared by Lynn - a buffet-type tea which was fantastic. John looked well - fatter. Is Maria having twins?

Jack Simon came up with the proofs of the wedding photos. They really are brilliant. I order seven for my album. Auntie Mabel is reduced to tears at the sight of a picture of her and Uncle Jack arriving at the church. She had a good weep.

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Wednesday March 17, 1976

St Patrick's Day. Christine B's official birthday today. Yes, in this respect she's very much like the poor, worried old Queen.

Go down to Carole's at about 8 o'clock after standing around in fog. The pair of us (and we are a pair) meet Chris and Christine in the Hare & Hounds and have a fun time. Laura and Dave come in and we go down to Apperley Lane and The Queen's. We all got a bit pissed actually and it didn't feel like a Wednesday. Nobody mentioned Princess Margaret all evening which was nice of them. Chris and Christine complement each other so well. Sometimes I still feel that I fancy her.

The papers today are splattered with gossip about Princess Margaret and Lord Snowdon and other than that I'm saying nothing further today about the affair because I do not believe it is half as bad as the Daily Telegraph like to assume, and besides, if the princess fancies a bit on the side who am I to comment?

James Callaghan will probably be disappointed in the 'Premier Stakes' but all the papers automatically assume he'll be the next (Labour) leader. Things can't be as simple as this! Some little squirt like Eric Varley or Stanley Cohen will be the next Prime Minister. You mark my words.

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Monday March 8, 1976

David and Auntie Mabel both have birthdays today. Lynn rang Auntie M at tea time to thank her for the present she sent and she learns from Uncle Jack that she is laid up in bed with 'flu or something. The poor thing has been dogged with ill health recently.

Jackie prepares to depart from our company and Auntie Eleanor & Uncle Jack come over at 7 to collect her. Jack sits in a chair reading the newspaper. ____________. They go a 7.30 leaving a present with John.

Carole rings and I tell her that John and I are going out without her & she's quite adorable about it. John and I go to the Hare & the Commercial.________________.

David comes at 7.15 and he takes Lynn off to Headingley for dinner. They're both sat on Mum's bed when John and I get back at 1am after being at Maria's discussing the finer points of Roman Catholic ritual and the pitfalls of decorating.

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Saturday March 6, 1976

Lynn's 'Coming of Age' party at the Yorkshire Rose.

Carole and I spent the whole afternoon buying Lynn's present and finding something suitable for John & Maria. The strain imposed on us by this harrowing shopping nightmare did nothing to make either of us better natured, and by 3 o'clock - after 3 solid hours walking around Leeds - we were near to blows.

We bought John and Maria a dinner service for £13.50 and I was compelled to haul the whole lot around numerous boutiques and ladies fashion boudoirs. My arms were just about paralised by 4.30. Home we came on a 33 bus and we parted company on icy, cold terms. I rang Dad from the call box on Fieldhead Road and he drove me home.

Everyone is busy at home. Jackie is the first guest to arrive at about 5.30. Met Carole - who looks adorable - at 6.20 off a bus at the bottom of the lane, and we have a few drinks at home before leaving for the Yorkshire Rose at 7.30.

The party is a success. Jackie is stunned to see the bruises on Carole's arm that had been done by her revolting father. We had to tell Jackie who'd done it because she was looking straight at me as though I'd been battering her about.

Lynn made a nice little speech from a table top amidst the remnants of half eaten cheese sandwiches and sausage rolls.

I've no idea what time the family returned home, but I do know it was after 2am when Uncle Harry found himself locked in the cellar of the Yorkshire Rose. We all had a tremendous piss-up at our place and were still grooving away at 4am.

Cousin Jackie and I were in hysterics when Uncle Harry accidentally set fire to his trousers, and I just about choked.

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Thursday November 20, 1975

Carole's 18th birthday. Go to her place with Dave and Lynn at 7.30 and meet her parents for a few drinks of pernod and home-made lager. John and Maria come soon afterwards and we all have a good laugh. Paul, her 10 year-old brother drank a glass of pernod and went upstairs to be sick. Carole looked great in her new dress. She'd been drinking since 6.30 and was well on the way when we arrived, and so Lynn took over the responsibility of playing hostess, which she does well. I refused to give Carole my present in front of all the others and so I waited until she went upstairs, and then sneaked up afterwards and adorned her neck with the item of jewelry. It's probably not as good as Liz Taylor's, but it's the thought that counts after all.

At 8.30 John, Maria, Lynn, Dave, Carole and I - plus CD - made our way to the Hare for a few pre-meal slurps. Carole had her eighth pernod or something equally ludicrous, and could hardly stand by 9 o'clock. The meal is lost in something of a dream. Carole was sick twice but insisted it was nothing to do with the chicken. I devoured a T-bone steak and the best part of a bottle of wine, and helped myself to an ashtray on the way out. A thief, that's what I am.

__________________________________.We went to her place at midnight and I stayed a couple of hours. We were quite alone and it was the most romantic time of my life. Walked home at 2.30 in the frosty air.

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Saturday September 27, 1975

John's birthday party. Mum is cooking all day and is in a foul mood after hearing from Tetley's that they haven't got the New Inn. She really is shaken about it and says they won't try for another pub if that is how they treat people, but that is hardly the right attitude. To get anywhere these days you have to fight, kick and cheat to do everything possible to secure your choice. Life's a rar race.

At 4pm I meet Carole in Guiseley and we buy some flash cubes for her camera and walk back to our place eating lollipops in the rain. Romantic is the word you are looking for.

To the Hare & Hounds at 8.30. Mum and Dad come down with Bill Stott and his wife, and all the gang gathers in readiness for the party. The guests are too numerous to mention, but you know who they are by now. Back to our place at 11 after talking with RM who is just out of Armley Jail. He stabbed someone in Yeadon and went down for nine months. Silly little sod that he is.

Party is a tremendous success. The food went as if a plague of locusts had descended upon it, but the drink lasted quite well. Mum went to bed at about 1am feeling 'off it' but otherwise no casualties were accounted for. I lasted out until about 5am and had the usual cheese on toast with Martyn Cole. Carole went up to sleep at 3. The poor girl is hopeless with drink.


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Wednesday June 4, 1975

The 20th birthday of Mr Ratcliffe. The post brings a letter from him, telling me of his journey down (to Hayes), and certain details about the hotel itself. A letter too from Judith R, and one from good old Dave. Tonight I persuaded John to write to Dave to remind him about the records he borrowed in April & is still in possession of.

This referendum thing ends tomorrow after what seems like months and months of campaigning and useless BBC programmes. Tomorrow night we'll all be able to breathe easily again. I'm still not going to vote, but I hate to think I am making no contribution to such a historic event. One never knows. I might be voting 'YES' by this time tomorrow night.

The Derby was run at Epsom this afternoon. Grundy won. I looked in on one of those midget tvs in the Press Hall. The Duchess of Gloucester paraded herself at the racecourse knee-deep in plaster. HRH broke her leg whilst skiing some weeks ago, but she is carrying out engagements undaunted.

Lynn and Dave sit in the dining room compiling a photo album. I retire at 10pm for a bath.

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Monday April 21, 1975

Rainy, nasty day. The Queen's birthday. Uncle John says it would be advantageous to visit Windsor at this time because something is always happening.

I'm about to leave, with Dave, for Worcester. I do not intend taking the diary with me, because I'll have other things to do, and I don't like letting people in on the secret that I'm a day-to-day diarist. However, whilst I'm down yonder I will make the odd note or two so that I can come home and fill in the details, and indeed you'll not be able to tell I've been neglecting this truly historic record.

So, I'm on my way now. All packed and ready. Pity about the weather, but what do you expect in Britain in April? What do you expect of the weather in Britain at any time? Precisely.

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Saturday April 5, 1975

Here it is again - my birthday. Excuse me if the writing is different but I'm using a strange pen. Yes, as I was saying, here it is again. Happy Birthday, Michael, Baby! My teens are done with forever. The days of youth are through and as Dave L pointed out, I'm 'a fifth of a century old'.

Wake up at about 10 and make tea for poor, darling Christine, who is sound asleep on the lounge settee. It begins to snow, and we sit about laughing and joking for about an hour. She disappears down the lane in a blizzard and I settle down to open my cards.Dave L's is the best. A bereavement card! 'Our Sorrow is with You at This Time', and words to that effect. Play about with the typewriter and entertain Gillian, who calls round with my birthday card.

Mum and Dad are in a foul mood to start with, but pull round in the afternoon. £4 from Mama, and £3 from Sue and Peter.

The Grand National today. L'Escargot won. Mum, Dad, John and I backed eight horses each. Dad had the winner and Mum the second.

To the Hare and Hounds at 7 with Mum, Dad and John. Darling Christine joins us ten minutes later, and I tell her that I'm crazy over her. She doesn't believe me. I'll have to wait to see what reaction she profers.

Everyone gathers and the coach leaves for Kikos at 8.30. A forty five minute journey and I almost burst my bladder on the way. Fantastic evening. Rum and orange all night. Involved in a slight tussle and cut my finger, but nothing horrific. Bit of an orgy really. Had a request played and carry on very nicely. Leave at 2.15 for home and have a 'Sing along' on the way with Mr Lawson and Miss Braithwaite. Cook until 5 for Jackie and Neil and crawl into bed at about 6 o'clock.

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Wednesday September 25, 1974

John's 18th birthday. Don't see him before leaving for the YP but at 12 (it's my half day) we all meet in the Generation Bar beneath the Jubilee. Christine Phyllis Whitethighs, Denny, Chris, and one of Phyllis's friends. Spend about an hour drinking here, before Denny, Chris, the birthday boy and myself move on to the Emmotts, which is in the midst of being decorated at the moment and looks better without that awful purple, flock wallpaper. After pie and peas and cinzanos in the E. we go back to Denny's where John feels rather faint and finds it necessary to go lay down upstairs. The remaining three of us watch a repeat of Galsworthy's 'Forsyte Saga' part one, first shown in 1967. It was good but seemed very dated. Home for tea and see all the hilarious birthday cards lined up. One from Andy was intended for an 8-year-old girl, and Dave L sent a card 'Birthday Wishes Today You are 2'. I stayed in tonight, whilst John went to the Hare with Carol, Chris and a few others - even Laura turned up.

 At 9.30 MM came to see me. I was most surprised, though I expected to see him sometime this week before his departure to Sheffield on Monday. He gave me his address, &c. John and Chris came back for coffee and we all sat about until 11. Came to bed and looked at Dad's police magazines & see the article I had published in the issue of Sept 1972. Quite funny.

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