Wednesday February 9, 1977

It's all settled anyway. Yes at 10.15 today I telephoned Miss Mather. That was it. Finished. Eight months and three days. Eight months and three days of normality, steadiness and ordinariness. Anything exciting that occurred in this period was purely accidental, I'm sure.

Lynne Mather: girlfriend of eight months and three days...

Sarah is flabbergasted and completely astounded. The misery of the past few days lifts within minutes of my getting it off my chest to Lynne. I only hope she's taken it like she seemed to do. Tony rings and I convey the historic news to him.

I pass a weird sort of day wondering what life is going to do to Michael Rhodes. One thing's for sure I'm having no girlfriends, concubines, tarts, whores or wenches for at least four days - just until a decent period of mourning has passed. Cool and calculating, aren't I?

Home at 5 o'clock with Philip Knowles on the 35 (bus). I don't announce anything at home and will keep quiet about Lynne until Friday or so. No point in creating alarm and despondency before it's necessary.

Take a bath and watch a bit of TV and think about the whole business. Martyn rings and he says he finished with Carla last night. We're having a celebratory pint at the Hare tomorrow. I am looking forward to my new found freedom.

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Friday December 10, 1976

Alison [Dixon] and John [Pinder] came up from the depths of Winchester last night to stay for a couple of days. Don't see Lynne today and she goes home taking Jean with her. Peter M rings to say he's on his tod [sloan] this evening because Chris has gone off with a mucky woman to Askham Bryan. I must be the last resort. He comes at 8.15 and we go to the Hare with Sue, Pete N, Lynn and Dave [the latter pair move on to a function at the Dragonara in Leeds]. Martyn and his popsy [Carla] are in, and Mum & Dad. Peter M and I return at 10.45 to watch a programme on the Abdication Crisis narrated by James Cameron. Very good indeed and it would have been much better if Peter hadn't insisted on fidgeting and complaining throughout about the time and how late we'd be at Oakwood Hall. Mum, Dad, Sue, Pete, John and Alison come back at 11.15 and when the programme finishes Peter drives us to Oakwood Hall. I feel bloody miserable all night. At 2am Peter M throws me the keys to the van and we go sit outside while he walks his new found 'lady friend' back to Bingley College. TWO HOURS LATER HE RETURNS buttoning his shirt and combing his hair with a vague story about listening to Perry Como records. I realise that fans of this ageing American baritone are probably grossly perverted, but never did I imagine that the ritual of listening to his dulcet tones involved stripping off ones clothes and sitting in the nude. Home by 4.30am and Mum makes us all dance and sing until dawn. Dad was flaked out in bed - pissed I fear.

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