Friday August 12, 1977

A good day. Eileen and I met Tony outside the YP at about 1pm and we had three or four drinks in the Central. Tony came back to the YP for the afternoon and had Carol J swooning all over him. In fact she did no work from when he arrived, sat, quite besotted, on her desk, with her legs rubbing up against his. It was bloody painful. Eileen was becoming quite violent about it and if I hadn't made the tea a full scale war could easily have broken out. Tony went off to a dental appointment at about 4. ________.

Tonight: Tony, Martyn and Stuart came up at 8.30 followed by Peter M and Chris. Sue, Pete N and Janet Simon joined us and we went to the Bod. Michelle, Toni and a girl called Mary came in. Mary was so fanciable you just wouldn't believe it. She was quite tanked up.

From the Bod most of us went to Il Trovatore. I was with Mary all night and it proved to be one of the most successful in ages. We got on like a house on fire. The only thing is that she has a ruddy boyfriend stashed away somewhere.  So attractive too. I told her she looked like the singer Dana, but she said Vera Lynn was closer to the mark.

Back to Tony's at 2am, and the ladies brought me home at something like 4 o'clock. A diabolical time. Don't know what sort of reception I'll get if I see Mary again but one thing's for sure folks - Michael's in love again.



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Tuesday March 22, 1977

Not discussing work other than to say we've been having some bother with Carol.

Margaret Thatcher: I don't fancy the idea of a woman PM

A good cartoon in the Daily Mail this morning on the subject of Margaret Thatcher, the Prime Minister and Mrs Indira Gandhi. Tomorrow we will know for certain whether we're in for a general election or not.

I don't fancy the idea of a woman PM but anything will be better than Callaghan. Even a gorilla will do. A right-wing gorilla though.

Spoke to Delia Collis this afternoon on the phone. She has invited me to tea on an date yet unknown but in the near future. Should be a laugh.

Chris Monckton: future Tory whip?

To the dentist at 5pm. I need a couple of fillings. No appointment until September. I can think of nothing worse than dentists. They should all be herded together and shipped to the Maldives, or perhaps the Outer Hebrides. On reflection it's probably a silly idea, but I'm not here merely to be sensible. Blimey, I'm not standing for parliament.

Chris Monckton is departing from the YP to become a PRO with the Conservative party. Should suit him well. One day I bet he's a Tory whip - in more ways than one. On the subject of the peerage, a duke saw fit to make an exit from his mortal role yesterday. Namely the Duke of Portland who was 84. Strangely enough the successor to this title is only a slip of a lad himself. In fact he's 88.

11:30pm. Nothing much more to report. The BBC is, at this very moment, going on and on about the revolting government. It angers me more and more. James Callaghan is no politician. How he has the cheek to crawl round the Liberal party at this stage is quite amazing. No, obscene is the word. Even Dad says it's disgusting. The shoddy way this country is governed! If I was an MP I'd admit defeat when it it staring me right in the face.

To bed with P.G. Wodehouse. An amusing book. No telephone calls tonight. Must ring the lads tomorrow.

-=-

Tuesday March 1, 1977

St David's Day. I do hope my Welsh readers have their flags flying today. It was a tiresome day at the YP keeping the conversation away from the subject of Martha Reeves and the Vandellas and Batley Variety Club. Somehow I think Carol J must suspect something because she didn't once mention the subject of tickets to Ursula.

Delia rang at 2.30 to say she is making her TV debut today at 3.45 on YTV (re her flowering arranging genius). She added that she'd just had four of five gin and tonics in the YTV bar and was tipsy. Carol, Sarah and I gathered round the office TV at the pre-arranged time and sure enough Delia emerged onto the 12inch square set in glorious black and white. She was marvellous - her usual hilarious self. I really must get an autograph or signed photo.

Home at 5.30pm for chicken, &c. See in the Daily Mirror - if such a newspaper is to be believed -that Davina Sheffield has taken in a lodger at her London home. Today is her 26th birthday and it may well mark the decline of her liaison with the Prince of Wales. Who knows? Nothing more of vast importance going on in the big, wide world.

Martha Reeves & the Vandellas ...

I am afraid that the month of March is going to be a month of costly entertainment. Numerous birthdays, and an unseemly batch of orgies coming up. How am I going to last until April?

Leave for Batley at 8.30 with Tony & Martyn. Well, what can I say about Batley (Variety Club)? The seats were revoltingly uncomfortable. Either designed by a retarded chimpanzee or Sir Basil Spence. The heat was unbearable and the drinks ridiculously priced. Martha Reeves, though quite good, didn't emerge onto the floor until after 11, and she'd gone by 12. I may have made it sound a depressing night, but it wasn't. Quite good for a Tuesday.





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Monday October 4, 1976

Out of bed at 7.20 but work is the last thing I want to get roped into today. Decide to have a day off. Besides, the staircase needs rubbing down for the new paintwork. Have a leisurely bath after phoning the office to let them know.

Give Tony a ring at 11.15 to cancel tonight's engagements and he relates to me a sad tale indeed. His relationship with Mrs Johnson is no more. Evidently, she paid him a visit last night and he told her once again that he doesn't want a serious relationship with anyone at this period in time and the poor girl disappeared in a tearful rage in the early hours in the direction of Horsforth.

Dad and I go to Morrison's at 3 and purchase paint for the hallway, &c. Spend the evening decorating. Only manage to undercoat four or five doors but things are looking much better. Retire at midnight feeling knackered and completely shagged out.

I first met Lynne two years ago tomorrow, Oct 5, 1974. Historic occasion indeed. We shall celebrate on Saturday night.

-==-

Sunday October 3, 1976

16th after Trinity. Don't get up until very late. Do bugger all this afternoon and we all have a very late Sunday dinner at 5.30. Too listless to go out tonight & so I attempt to get Tony's phone number by ringing Auntie Delia in order to get Carol J's number and thus, eventually, discover Mr Brotherwood's. Delia says she wants some decorating doing and I immediately offer my services. A few extra quid wouldn't go amiss. Anyway, Carol says she doesn't have Tony's phone number and I get the distinct impression that I've put my dirty great foot in it. He rings me at 6 o'clock and I tell him not to bother coming up. We're going to see 'The Omen' in Leeds tomorrow.

See 'Fawlty Towers' and a film about German POWs attempting to escape from a camp in Scotland followed by a Sophia Loren film which takes us through to midnight. No news from John today but we presume Maria is now safely housed at Otley [Hospital].

-==-

Saturday September 11, 1976

Go with Harry, Sam, Mum and Dad, Lynn, Sue & Pete to 69 Silverdale Drive. Somewhat chaotic though because John is laying a floor of woodden blocks in his lounge, and poor Uncle H found himself glued to the floor. He was seconds away from becoming a permanent fixture in his nephew's home. Introduce Sam to Maria. He doesn't believe us when we say she's only 18.

Sue and Peter go off somewhere like a pair of love birds and the rest of us trip off down to the Conmmercial in a deluge. The great dramatic actor Frazer Hines is sitting in the bar surrounded by followers, make-up artists and piss artists. Later we see them filming in the carpark. A dour, old local chap in the tap room says 'somebody should bloody well blow up Emmerdale Farm and have done'. Hear, hear. Joined by Anne, Carol [Americans] and Raymond [Bond]. devour beef sandwiches and knock back lager. A chap [telly producer type]chats with Lynn but nothing comes of it.

John and Maria come up at 5.30 for an evening meal. Beautiful food. Down to the Hare at 9. Joined by Tony. CB goes off to Ilkley to meet Martyn. At 10.45 Tony goes up to Horsforth for Mrs Johnson and they go on to Ilkley too. Family comes back to Pine Tops for a continuation of last night's booze-up. Drink until 3am. Uncle H is one of the most humorous men I have ever encountered.

-==-

Monday June 21, 1976

Warm but overcast day. Work was uneventful and not particularly strenuous. Hear that poor Dennis Haywood broke his arm when he fell off the quay at Blackpool yesterday. He seemed to be in great pain throughout the evening session in Skipton and now I understand why. Mick Johnson came in to see Carol J and exaggerated greatly his tale of the whole of yesterday's events. After the big build up with promises of alcoholic poisoning one could almost say it was something of an anti-climax. Enjoyable though.

A quiet evening at home. Watch a film at 9.20 on BBC1 entitled 'The Landlord' which is amusing. Certain aspects of American humour can be hilarious - espeially the female comics.

Retire to bed at 11.30 and read 'Princess Margaret anbd her family' which seems daft in the light of the events of three months ago. One picture in the book shows HRH at a house party in the autumn of 1973 where one of the male members in the group is named as 'Roddy Llewellyn, former Olympic showjumper'. The author is obviously confusing the young lad with his father, Colonel Harry Llewelyn. Apparently, this occasion was the first meeting of the princess and her young beau.

-==-

Saturday June 19, 1976

Mum & Dad's 22nd wedding anniversary. The occasion was somewhat marred by the fact that poor Dad was late home because of the National Front demo in Bradford this afternoon. He gets in at 8 o'clock and they both go out for a quiet drink. Lynn, Sue and I bought them a silver plated tea pot, milk jug and sugar bowl, &c.

Tony and Carol J come in at 9 o'clock and he tells Mum it was I who was violently sick on Thursday night. We all laugh at th cover-up and then we go up to the Cow & Calf pub for a drink, with Lynne. A nice evening, and we sat in the floodlit gardens at Oakwood Hall and devoured pizza. They (the pizzas) are much nicer than the Damn Yankee creations & even better than the supposed brilliant objects served at the Flying Pizza. Peter and Anne arrive at Oakwood at midnight or so but we don't see much of them. Lynne and I dance quite a bit ___________________.

Home at 1.30 or thereabouts to find some sort of wedding anniversary party going on. This orgy of hysterics falls though at 2am and Lynne and I have the lounge to ourselves until the unearthly hour of 4am. Please understand one thing. Lynne and I are not serious. After the traumatic events of the last couple of months I am in no mood for a lengthy, strenuous affair.

-==-

Monday June 7, 1976

Weird happenings today. On arriving at work at 8.30 Sarah tells me that she's heard from Marilyn that Carol J is now going out with Tony. After he dropped me off at home late on Friday night he went back to Carol's flat and subsequently stayed the night. This isn't all. They were at the Square & Compass on Saturday night and on Sunday she was helping him move into his new flat. Mrs Johnson told Eileen this morning that this time it's 'the real thing'. _____. I am not supposed to know about this because I might tell D. ______________.

Carole (all these bloody Carole's/Carol's are so confusing aren't they?) rings before lunch to ask me to go for a drink with her one night this week. Foolishly I say I will and ask her to contact me on Thursday. Afterwards I realise that for the first time since we split I am giving in to her. Tomorrow I will ring her at her work and cancel the date. I'll speak to her if she's out with the rest of the crowd but never again will I be subjected to a private liaison in a public house or anywhere for that matter.

A hot summers day. Very much like yesterday and I only hope that the weather will remain at the same temperature for a couple of weeks so that I'll be suitably primed and ready for the forthcoming Ibiza extravaganza.

My mind is pre-occupied throughout the day with thoughts of Lynne and whether or not we should go out together. ___________________.

John and Maria come at 9 o'clock and stay until 11.45. Maria is in great spirits and seems delighted by the photo albums. She says her child, if a boy, will definately be John Philip Rhodes, Jun. She borrows my Chambers Dictionary with the christian names in the back, to research possible girl names. Charlotte seems to be on the cards.

-=--

Wednesday June 2, 1976

Have a hysterical day at the office. Arrange with Sarah and Carol to go see Hylda Baker at the Bradford Alhambra on Friday night. Marilyn wants to go too. Can't wait. Hylda is my favourite comedienne. It also means I can escape from the bloody Friday night rut I seem to be wedged in at the moment. Since I dissolved my relationship with Carole the Hare & Hounds has lost its attraction.

Stuart comes up at 8 o'clock and we go to Tony's place off Manningham Lane, Bradford. The poor sod pays £7 a week for a revolting bed-sit in the heart of Mecca with virtually no white men, or women for that matter, within a 50 mile radius. However, he is moving out next week & so he seems cheerful.

We have a drink in the Commercial and then another in the Chevin Inn, which is incredibly snobbish. Go to the Hare at 9.30 and Denise comes in with Carole. I shudder at the sight of her and the more I see of her the more I think she is unbalanced. Her eyes are so lifeless. Tony buys them both drinks.

Back to Tony's for coffee and home after midnight. Mum says John was round tonight.

-==-

Tuesday June 1, 1976

The First of Bleedin' June.

Up with the larks at 7.20 and devour a few slices of toast before making off down the lane at 8 o'clock. Jim Rawnsley doesn't pick me up as he usually does and so I have to travel by bus like a peasant.

Carol is not in the office & so I cannot speak to her about Friday night's excursion to the Emmotts. Sarah is in good form. She says she'll come to London on June 12 to see the Trooping of the Colour. It would be nice to arrange a party from work because I am rapidly running out of suitable chaperones. John was always a good companion on these adventures but circumstances of course prevent his continuing in this capacity.

Blimey! 26 days before Peter and I bugger off to Ibiza for a fortnight! Just three and half tiny weeks! I'm in two minds about declaring a State of Emergency because I feel so unprepared for the holiday. I have a passport, I will have three weeks pay. Clothes? Do I have suitable gear? Eeek! All these things have to be looked into!

See a Jimmy Cagney/Bogart 1939 film on TV and go to bed at 11pm after discovering that I haven't smashed all the glasses Mum has accused me of smashing. She expects everything to be in its correct place, and had not bothered looking in one of the other kitchen cupboards where they nestled in complete safety.

-==-

Monday May 24, 1976

Hear the alarm clock for the first time in months and lay awake until I hear Lynn plodding around the house at 7.30. She complains about me having a party as though I'm a small child. What's happened to the adventurous, boisterous sister of mine? If a lad can't have a bit of a party occasionally he might as well go live in a Russian labour camp or something. All work and no play isn't something I adhere to at all. Is poor Lynn forgetting what it's like to indulge in a bit of good, old, dirty fun?

Work: we laugh at Saturday night and Sunday mornings escapades. Evidently, when I was at Carol's I was chasing one of the cats all over the building in awe at the sight of such an amazing creature. On being reminded that I am severely allergic our feline friends I am reported to have exclaimed: "Oh, is she a cat?" What on earth did I imagine I was so attentively pursuing? This question, unfortunately, remains unanswered.

Sarah tells me that Peter B thinks he knows me from somewhere. I tell her his face is very familiar. Where have we crossed paths before? This is another mysterious, unanswerable question.

Home at 5.15 after calling in at a shop in Guiseley for a loaf. Chicken and chips for tea with Lynn & Susan. Just the three of us. Sometimes I feel that our family is dwindling away. Things are bad enough without John, and Mum and Dad away make something of a large gap. Lynn tells me that she met CB this morning, who told her every detail of Saturdays events. I cringe at the very thought of CB's colourful descriptions of Mrs Monkman yelling abuse from her bedroom window and other tales of a blood-curdling nature. A sharp, rebuking letter is called for. I don't believe in hiding things from Lynn or purposely deceiving her, but the complete gory details are quite unnecessary. Dear me.

--==-

Friday March 26, 1976

Just Sarah and I at work until Kathleen's arrival at 2.45. Where the hell Carol J was remains a mystery to us because Sarah knows very well that C was out on the town indulging in a spot of mild adultery in the early hours of this very morning. Naturally, we were bloody busy and the day flew by.

To the Hare & Hounds with Carole tonight. Peter M gave the two of us a lift to our place at 11 o'clock. I'm feeling argumentative - not with Carole though - and I squabble with Dad about politics and taxation until a God forsaken hour. Peter N joins in too. He's stunned at the way his tax has increased this week. Carole says she's never seen me arguing with Papa before. Politics is the only thing we really argue about.

Carole and I sit like love birds until after 2am.

-==-

Monday March 1, 1976

St David's Day. Quite a busy day at work without Kathleen or Carol J. Arrange with Sarah for Mum to visit Delia tonight to discuss floral arrangements for the wedding.

See in 'The Times' that Georgiana Russell, an old girlfriend of the Prince of Wales is joining the ranks of the betrothed. The prince really should start thinking about finding a wife because all the elegible young ladies are falling. The likes of Rosie Clifton and Lady Henrietta FitzRoy and many more. Jane Wellesley won't do at all, and Angela Nevill is just about the only dish on the hot-plate.

Home at 5. Dad shows me a report from his accountant about the Henry Jenkins pub. He's been advised to offer £30,000 for it. They're going over tomorrow to sort things out and I wish them all the luck.

Go to the Yorkshire Rose with Mum & Dad and they book Lynn's party for Saturday for definate. We then go up to West End Lane to Sarah's and Mum does some arranging with Delia whilst Lucy the dog mauls me and Dad. Leave at about 8.30 - 9 o'clock.

Back at home Carole rings. We arrange to meet for tea at our place tomorrow. I see a clapped out old film on the BBC and watch the late night news before going off to bed at about midnight.

Well, March is upon us once more and I would never have imagined that this month could hold so many events of historic consequence.

--==--

Thursday November 27, 1975

A wet, nasty day all round. Sarah and Carol J are in London on a day trip, and they are worried about being blown to pieces by the IRA. Before they left I advised the following: keep out of restaurants, cinemas, big famous stores like Harrods and Fortnum & Mason's, museums, art galleries, the Tower of London, Madame Tusaud's and the Planetarium; and that probably the safest thing they can do is go sit in the middle of St James's Park having heavily lagged their under garments with at least eight sand bags, and just hope for the best.

Wednesday November 26, 1975

A wet day again. To Leeds with Jim Rawnsley. He says that in ten years time we'll be in the same situation with Scotland as we are with Ireland now. I shudder with horror. The Irish Republic Army attacking from the right, the Scottish Republicans from top, and the Welsh Nationalists from below the knees. What will become of us all?

The Scots will keep all the North Sea Oil for themselves, and England's economic future will be non-existent. The Financial Times will have to close down due to lack of business, &c.

Carol J and I go down to photographic to look at the negs of yesterdays Royal Visit. We see at least three negs with us with the duchess, and order them. I'll have them enlarged and glued on my bedroom wall.


-==-

Tuesday November 25, 1975

She came today. The Duchess of Kent that is. I had a marvellous view of the spectacle and was in the reception lobby when she arrived. She dashed in through the main door and the managing director and his cronies fell upon her like a pack of wolves. She was quite nice about it though, and came through it unruffled.

Carol J and I were on the front line and when HRH started her 'walk about' we were in direct line of fire. She came straight for me and I went weak at the knees. Carol was squealing with a mixture of terror and delight. She decided not to question me, but bombarded one of the little joiners. She couldn't have stood much nearer to me if she'd tried. So slim, blond and attractive. I have quite fallen for her. What's more, Carol says we are on at least four photographs with her. Fame at last! Photographed with the only daughter of a Yorkshire baronet who just happened to marry the shy, little cousin of Elizabeth Windsor. Who'd have thought it? Oh, if my grandmother could see me now. Aaargh. It's all too bloody much.

Meanwhile, back to reality. How at the usual time for the usual tea with the usual people. Mum says she'll tell everyone at work that I've captured the heart of a duchess. Let's not over do it, Mother.

Ring Carole who's at Maria's place. At 8.30 we go for a walk in the rain round Tranmere. Arguing again. We mean no ill will by these attacks on one another, but I somehow can't help it. She brings out my devilish, argumentative nature.

Carole is a Scorpio, which probably accounts for our fiery relationship.

-==-

Monday November 17, 1975

Chilly blasts and ice-cold draughts howl around my knees at 8am as I set foot out of the house for another day at the office. A hectic day too. Sarah is at her grandmother's funeral, and of course Kathleen never works Mondays. Carol is on the verge of mental collapse and Eileen reverts to her bad-mannered ways as she always seems to do at times of stress.

Someone was arguing about a quiz programme on tv yesterday. Evidently, the 50 dollar question was 'give me nine womens names beginning with the letter M'. The poor contestant could only think of six, and thus lost a chance to spend a week in St Tropez, all expenses paid. It's such an easy question too:
Mary, Marian, Mary, Mildred, Mary, Margaret, Mary, Millicent, Mary, Melissa, Mary, Maude, Mary, Mirabel, Mary, Mabel, Mary, Magdalene, Mary, Muriel, Mary, Megan, Mary, Marjorie, Mary, Michelle, Mary, Myrtle, Mary, Marianne, Mary, Marie, Mary,. Maria, Mary, Margot, Mary, Mandy. Well ok, Mandy is short for Amanda, but I bet someone somewhere is actually called Mandy.

Carole rings me and informs me that Mrs P has bought a bottle of pernod for us to get through on Thursday. Lynn and Dave and John and Maria are invited round, so we'll have a good time of it before dining out.

All I can say is I am glad we are nowhere near Londinium because you wouldn't find me in a restaurant down there. The IRA isn't going to have the pleasure of putting a stop to my happy, little existence. I intend to battle on to be over 100 whether these terrorists like it or not. Goddnight.

Monday October 13, 1975

Quite busy at work today because Kathleen isn't back until tomorrow and Carol J is away with Brian from the engraving department having a dirty weekend in Blackpool.______.

Her Majesty the Queen returned to London from Balmoral today, and event which coincided with the first sitting of Parliament since the summer recess. John Stonehouse went to the Commons to protest his innocence and was generally ignored by his fellow MPs. So all in all the only person to acknowledge him since his return from Australia is Mary Wilson, wife of beloved Uncle Harold. The old girl must be something of an embarrassment to the Prime Minister at times.

After work I go straight down to Carole's where I find her looking greatly improved. She keeps apologising for something she says she did on Saturday afternoon, but I refuse to accept it because as far as I am concerned she is totally blameless of any misdemeanor. Believe it or not, we sat about on her bed playing Monopoly! It isn't a game I really enjoy, but the invalid seemed to take pleasure in it. Mrs P tried to make me have some tea with them but I flatly refused. I never feel hungry until later on.

Carole is a love. She says she is coming out with me on Wednesday evening because I go south on Thursday. I must bring her a present back from Windsor.

Home at 8.15 and have eggs and bacon. After devouring this I sit about for an hour and go to bed at about 10pm.

-===-

Friday October 3, 1975

Wake at about 7.45 with a terrible hangover. This continues throughout the day and doesn't wear off until long after lunch.

The girls in the office were arguing like Hell and Sarah almost bit Kathleen's head off when K came in at 2.30. I like to keep out of situations like that because you don't stand a chance arguing with four of five of the fair sex.

Go down to the Hare with Carole, Lynn, Dave, John, 'George', Pete M, &c, &c. CD and CB are of course in. Hear from Andy that he and Keith wrecked Keith's car near the Commercial last night. One day they'll be killed and that's no exaggeration.

At 11pm Dave and Lynn surprise me by saying they fancy going to the Cow & Calf, where Lynn's never been before. So Carole, CD, Lynn, Dave and me go up in Dave's car.

We have a great night and do nothing but laugh - especially on the way home over the moor singing 'Chitty Chitty Bang Bang'. The sound of our voices must have echoed throughout Yorkshire on this cold, autumnal evening. CD especially made a terrific noise, and after dropping Carole off at Menston she said she could hear us going all the way to White Cross. Home at 2.30 feeling tired, but most of all hoarse.

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