Sunday March 11, 1979

_. 2nd Sunday in Lent

Felt slightly better today. I rang Chris. He was disgusted about last night. I told him I'd meet him this lunchtime. He told me he was going to the Regent at Chapel Allerton. Alas, Sue & Pete don't want to go over to Leeds, and so we went to the Commercial instead. Down at Esholt we drank like diabetic fish for just over an hour. At one point John Pinder raised his glass to me [when nobody else was looking] and said: "Well, Michael, here's to you because it is probably the last time I'll see you." He then told me that he'd attempted to go home from Grassington on Tuesday after a fight with Ally but had missed the train & so he returned to the cottage.  Poor Alison ______________________.

Back home for lunch where we discussed the idea of going to work abroad. Ally was serious about the whole thing. She and John left for Winchester at 4. John & JPH arrived while we were at the Commercial and at 5 they took Dave G and I to Lynn and Dave's where he discusses his plans for Lawn Road.  Dave B was as quiet as a mouse. Chris B and Julie arrived.

Tonight: to the Shoulder and the Half Way House with Sue, Pete and Dave G. Almost boring.

-=-

Saturday March 10, 1979

_. Woke up at about 10 feeling ghastly. Shivering with cold and full of the jitters. This is probably due to the fact that mildew and fungus is growing over my solitary sheet and something resembling the Victoria Falls is gushing down the crooked, picturesque interior walls.

At 11:30 Dave G, Sue, Pete and I found refuge in the Foresters [another charming pub]. By now I was feeling decidedly rough and unready. A few pints later I had had enough and decided to leave them and walk to the car. My knees knocked together like empty milk bottles, and I could barely move. It all sounds over-dramatized but I can assure you I thought the end - my end - had come. I slept in the warm car for an hour until the mob left the Foresters and decided to leave for home.

I would rather not discuss the events of tonight in any way. I phoned Chris Ratcliffe to ask what he intended doing tonight with John and Steve H and he said he would go down to the Shoulder. I agreed and said OK, but thought I'd never make it.

To Marlene  and Frank's at 6:30 for Auntie Mabel's 60th birthday party. I was in no fit state to be out in company, and after a few glasses of whisky I was dead to the world and asleep in a armchair.  At 10 o'clock Sue, Pete, Dave G, Ally and John P went off to find Chris R, John and Steve & co, but I was unable to move. Auntie Mabel says it is all because I am burning the candle at both ends. Aarrgghhhhhh....

-=-

Sunday December 31, 1978

1st Sunday after Christmas

Miserable and far from festive. Out of bed at lunchtime and went with Susan & Peter to the White Cross. The place was dead. Like a mausoleum in some vast Palladian mansion.

Back to Pete's at 2 for a couple of rums and hot soup {yes, what a combination}. Sue equipped herself with a school skirt and blouse, Peter dressed in a cowboy costume for tonight's 'orgy' at the Shoulder (of Mutton).

I pinched a tub of Jim's Brylcreem for my stunning masque.

Back at home Mum looks very pale and Dad not much better. Sore throats and blocked nasal cavities, &c. We had dinner and a few drinks in an attempt to capture some spirit.

Lynn and David joined us but the sombre atmosphere prevailed. I cannot really put my finger on the fault for this gloom, but something was amiss.

At 8pm - clad in our ridiculous garb we went to the Shoulder. No sign of John & Maria until 10:30 and they didn't come in fancy dress. Maria says John refused to come out in his traditional Scottish gear.

MM, Marita, Denise and Chris R came in for a couple of drinks.  ________. Lynn ignored them and scowled at me when I asked them to come and sit in our little corner. Denise kissed me when they left at about 11.

At about 11:45 with Lynn, Dave, Sue and Peter to Pine Tops to let in the New Year. John and Maria went on to Molly's for the event.

Bye bye, diary. For everything after midnight see the new volume.

-=-

Saturday December 16, 1978

Sun rises 08:00

Sun sets 15:52

Sunny and warm. Dave G's cheque arrived from Stockport in a  registered envelope and at 12:30 I caught a bus and buggered off to Bradford to pay the holiday deposit. The city was like the streets of Teheran have been in recent weeks and I resolved to remain in this swarming metropolis for as little as possible.

Met Denise at WH Smith's. She is remarkably thinner. I paid up and then carried her off to the Painted Wagon. It has been so long since we last met it is almost pointless trying to catch up on our experiences. We say we must have a night out soon, but how many times have we promised ourselves this and then done absolutely nothing about it?

Tonight Denise is going with Chris R to see Dave & Laura Pattison (Laura, nee Butchart). Chris and Michelle have finished. Denise is very changed. I suppose she thinks the same of me.

Lucy Lindsay-Hogg

Home at 3:30 to drink sherry with Mum and Susie. The wedding photographs of Lord Snowdon and Lucy Lindsay-Hogg are on the front pages of the newspapers. She is quite ugly. Her arrival at the register office is reminiscent of a housewife dashing to the Co~op  for a pack of toilet rolls. I feel so sorry for Princess Margaret because she has suffered irreparable damage this year over her divorce and friendship with Roddy Llewellyn. The divorce would never have happened but for the fact that Snowdon wanted to re~marry. She must be sad and lonely.

Tonight Lynn and Dave came and we sat round the Christmas tree drinking lager with whisky chasers until 1 in the morning. Mum was quite drunk and became quite nasty. When Sue and Pete came in she turned on Peter like a wild animal. Poor Susan was upset and I consoled her upstairs. She says Mum is always horrible with Peter when Dave B is present. David Baker is Mum's blue~eyed boy.

David severely gashed his finger on a corned~beef tin and the climax of the evening was a violent argument about Lillie Langtry. Mum and Lynn said she was a prostitute. A King's mistress can never be a prostitute.

-=-

Tuesday September 5, 1978

The weather is revolting. Mist and rain. It's a matter of a few hours to the wedding. I'll be so glad when it's all over. Mother is behaving like one of the nastier Third Reich leaders. Lynn and Dave have squabbled more in the past few days than in the whole of the four years they've fraternised.

Interesting conversation today. Dearest Christine phoned this afternoon. She says Chris Ratcliffe told her he's having a party on Friday night IF John & Maria return from Stranraer that is, which isn't definite yet! ____________________________.

The seating plan for the reception took up most of the evening and I spent ages writing the place setting cards for such quaint sounding people as 'Mr Joseph Chamberlain and friend'. Let us hope we have peace in our time. Oops, that was Neville. Never mind.

Watched the BBC's 'Holocaust' drama. Gripping.

-=-

Sunday June 4, 1978

2nd Sunday after Trinity

I do believe my dear friend Mr Ratcliffe celebrates a birthday today. I would never have remembered had it not been for David's observation of this in Harrogate on Friday.

Forgive this 'yucky' ink but I'm afraid I cannot be bothered to take down a bottle of sensible coloured ink from the shelf. Yes, I am a lazy sod.

In thunderous conditions we drove Jacq to Leeds at 9:30 ~ taking cousin Julie with us ~ and from Leeds we went on to Uncle Peter's to give him back his eldest daughter. The Wilson girls are very nice. Beverley and Julie are very quiet and polite, but Penny is the joker with the glint in her eyes and toothless grin. Peter was 'out at the club putting his numbers on' whatever that means. We departed at 10:30 in a homeward direction.

-=-

Saturday May 13, 1978

Sun rises 5:13

Sun sets 20:42

Up at 10:30. Jacq had left at 8 to go do her bit for Dacre, Son and Hartley. Dear Mummy and Daddy departed for Scarborough with Edith, Ernest, Margaret and Jim Nason, and we'll probably never see them again. It will be a booze-up to end all booze ups.

Before she left Mum moaned at me about waking her at 3:0am. She does have 'bionic ear holes' does my Mummy. Nobody else on earth could possibly pick up the signals she receives.

Jacq didn't get here until about 5:30. She had her hair done at Vidal Sassoon's. She says they (Sassoon's) will perm my hair for £12 and should I decide to go ahead with it I have to ask for some suspicious character who answers to Terry.

With Sue and Pete we went to the Shoulder (of Mutton) at 8:30 where the merry party-goers gathered. Tony, Martyn, Jill Rhodes, Chris R, Pete M, Steve Hudson, John, Maria, Linda White (not Shite), Jimmy Macdonald, &c. I was soon horribly drunk. I do remember laughing with Linda until the tears gushed down my thighs.

Jimmy Mac and Jacq just didn't hit it off one bit. He tried to tell Jacq what it really is like living in London, having lived there for almost four years. When Jacq explained she'd been born there and had been knocking around the metropolis for a quarter of a century he pooh poohed this saying something about not being able to judge by living in 'bourgeois Muswell Hill'.

Back at Tony's little flat I was closeted in the kitchen and cornered by Jimmy who went on and on about Aldo Moro, the Pope and democracy. I do believe John joined in too.

I fell on the floor on top of Michelle ~ with her locked in my arms ~ after a dance went critically wrong.

The girls from Smith's were there in force including Georgina and Co. Even Wendy "Cynthia" turned up with Yvonne Elliman.

Linda brought the 'Saturday Night Fever' LP with her but they didn't let us play all the way through.

Martyn Knipe brought Jacq and I home at some ghastly hour and I immediately put on the record player and went into the garden and vomited.

-=-

Friday April 7, 1978

New Moon 6:15

Blimey, that girl Angie must either look very different in the dark, or I must have been very drunk last night. I think I know that answer, but this is hardly the place to elaborate. Anyway, you should know me by now enough to work this one out for yourselves. She (Angie) was OK but not particularly attractive, but even younger and shorter than I thought she was. And quite shy too. I cannot imagine what I found to say to her in a darkened corner of one of Oakwood Hall's many caverns, but I'm sad to say we had nothing in common to discuss today. After a couple of drinks at the Ostlers we parted and I gave her my phone number. I must be a bloody fool because I cannot imagine myself dashing to meet her again.

Met Jacq in Guiseley at 7:45 and went to the Drop where we were joined by Dave L, MM and Marita. Dave wasn't on top form and Marita moaned about feeling depressed. However, Jacq and I had a good time. She looked great in her all-in-one suit, the type of which I've never seen before. Tony, Pete M, Chris and Lynne Mather came in.


Jacq.


At 11:30 we realised Jacq had missed the bus to Leeds and so the two of us stormed 69, Silverdale Drive where we pestered John and Maria until dawn. John refused to get out of bed, but we kept Maria up until 4:30.

-=-

Tuesday March 28, 1978

Annunciation (transference)

Jacqui

Phoned Jacqui today. She isn't coming up now until next Monday. This is better I suppose because now it won't clash with Dave's weekend of sin and debauchery. She had a good Easter. Last night Chris attempted to draw information of Jacqui's move northward from me. He didn't get much. He said he could foresee 'Ding Dong Merrily on High' for us in the near future. Whether this refers to a marriage or a premature Christmas I'm unsure. ________________________. I do think a lot of our Jacq and regard her as a leading contender for my hand. But you know what I'm like. I'll probably be 80 before anyone traps me.

Winding my way home this evening I encountered the recumbent form of the Rev. Downing. He was bent tearing up dandelion leaves on Hawksworth Lane. He held me in conversation for ages on the subject of my writing. The dear old man described my 'epistle' to Naomi  accepting the invitation to her 21st birthday party as a 'brilliant piece of work'. I cowered in my modesty as he went on to say I should take up writing on a permanent basis. He asked me, midst the dandelions, why I am not a journalist. I told him it didn't appeal to me. Crikey, Bernard Shaw and Noel Coward were not NUJ members and I don't think it held them back. I said I'd like to be an author and was surprised that he didn't laugh hysterically ~ he just nodded thoughtfully and said what a good idea it was. This makes me think seriously about my 'talent' when ageing theologians and academics express delight at my shoddy, cheap, vulgar 'epistles'. I can appreciate my own friends being amused, because nobody writes these days.


-=-

Monday March 27, 1978

Easter Monday

Bank Holiday (UK, except Scotland)

I fear that I'm the only person in the Kingdom going out to work today. The roads were barren and void of all life. The occasional raincoat-clad old age pensioner kept appearing on the horizon, but that was about all.

Just Sarah and I in the office. Completely dead. We had one phone call between 8:30 and 2pm, when I left.

I left Sarah reading the opera score of 'The Rape of Lucretia' by Britten. She's really into music since Mr MacMurray entered her world.

I walked in the sunshine to Kirkstall and then got a bus home. Spent the remainder of the afternoon sticking photos in Mama's album and then dined at 5 with Sue, Pete, Mum & Dad.

Chris

Christopher phoned at 6:15 to see if I fancied going out. I agreed.  He came up at 8 after dining with Denise at the Flying Pizza in Burley. We stayed for an hour or so in the Fox discussing the adventures of recent times. His 'affair' with Michelle is a weird one. I can't see why they bother. He says Pete M is moving to Otley in June but the Mather's are retaining Ty-Onnen (Bramhope) for holiday purposes. I'm glad because poor Vera (Mather) despises Thornton-le-Dale. I like Chris, but I'm always mindful of what my old grandma used to say: "never trust men with specs who live in Horsforth and work in banks". We went down to join Sue, Pete, Gus, Johnny and Chippy at the Shoulder of Mutton.




-=-

Friday February 24, 1978

St Matthias

A better Friday than I thought it would be. Christine phoned in the morning to see if I fancied a night at Oakwood Hall but I said no because of my financial situation. I have exactly £1 to see me through until next Thursday! I didn't sulk about the situation, and took it in my stride.

Mum and Dad have taken to fell walking and this afternoon was no exception. When I threw myself over the threshold tonight they were piled up ~ all muddy ~ like a pair of Siamese mud wrestlers. Mama provided us with a Chinese nosh from the takeaway down the road.

Darling Christine came at 8 dressed in a sailor suit. Able Seawoman Braithwaite tended to my every need until chucking out time. We had a few at the Hare, then the Fox, then back to the Hare, and finally (at my suggestion) the Drop. Alone we make an exquisite couple. Joined by by Pete M, Chris, Martyn and Tony. Lynne Mather was out too.  ___________. At the Drop Christine and I were back on form ~ it's pure friendship. No matter what happens to me or to Christine we will always be like ham and eggs, marriage and divorce, you name it. Our friendship will go on forever. Oh dear, am I perhaps slightly pissed?

-=-

Sunday February 12, 1978

1st in Lent.

Breakfast very enjoyable at the Hollywood and at 12 we were back in the bar drinking again. Disgusting really.

Read in the Sunday papers about poor Spike Milligan's wife, who died last week from cancer.

By 3:00pm we were all eating once again, and at 5 we were on the road home. Coming over the Pennines the weather became evil and foul. Cannot imagine going to Rawtenstall tomorrow if it persists.

Felt tired from the exertions but thoroughly enjoyed the visit. Lynn, Dave, Sue and Pete seem happy too.

Phoned Chris tonight and he thinks the trip planned for tomorrow can still go ahead. I have to contact him in the morning. He has decided that Jacq and I will be getting married. __________.

Took a long needed plunge in the bath. I think I'm giving up on Edward VI. The book has become too deeply involved  in church affairs of the 1550s for my liking. I like a biography to be more personal. 'El Dorado' by Baroness Orczy is the only book I have left. A sad thing it is.

-=-

Thursday February 9, 1978

Letter from David L suggesting May 19 as a possible date for our raid on Nailsworth. I write to Helen and Graham suggesting this to them. If nothing else, it will give them time to prepare for the ghastly, drunken onslaught.

John Grady phoned at 3 (I'm on half day at home). It was good to hear from him. He suggests I go to Rawtenstall possibly the Monday after next with Chris who is going to Lancashire to visit John and Co and pay a long over due visit to his grandparents. I'll phone Chris tonight and see what he has to say. It's been great hearing from friends.

Christine phoned yesterday afternoon ~ just to make polite conversation. I think that our 'chat' at Naomi's rekindled a good deal of the old flame that burned between us. (Blimey!) But I think Christine and I will always be like one fun loving infused brain. I must write. (Yes, you've guessed that I'm entering this year's journal for the Nobel Prize for Literature). It's only just gone tea time and I've a lot to do yet so can you wait around until later this evening for me to continue? ...................

Lynn.

...............I don't think I should have bothered saving any space for later because tonight just faded out with no spectacular scenes of any kind. All I did was watch TV and read 'El Dorado' by Baroness Orczy. Retired to bed abominably late again because after 'Top of the Pops' Lynn and I retired to the dining room with a bottle of Liebfraumilch to look at photo albums and listen to records. It was so pleasant. Just think, it might be one of the last evenings of this kind. When she's married and raising red faced Bakers in Burley in Wharfedale she'll have no time to sit and think of old times with big brother. Isn't it sad? We have only just escaped from childhood and now she's going off into the big, wide world.

-=-

Tuesday January 31, 1978

Moon's last quarter 23:51.

More snow. Marita's 23rd birthday, but something of a flop. I saw her at 4:30 on Wellington Street and she mentioned something about going out for a drink - a consolation booze-up - with Chris and Denise. I readily agreed to join the party.

At home I prepared a suitable birthday card (a Mig Rhodes montage no less, made from old YP photographs) and readied myself for this unusual Tuesday night venture. But at 8:00 she phoned saying Mr & Mrs Fountain have arranged to take her out for a surprise meal, and so it's a kick in the teeth for our night out. Lynn became suspicious and said __________.

King Edward VI.

I sat reading Edward VI by Hester Chapman, brooding over what might have been. The 1540s were troubled times and I must admit I'm quite confused about the intrigues of the Seymours and the Greys. I have managed to get to page 131 though. One thing's for sure, I no longer feel sorry for Lady Jane Grey.

Margaret Thatcher's immigration speech is creating a furore. There is also talk that Harold Wilson resigned when he did in March 1976 to lessen the impact of the breakdown of the Snowdon marriage. Did I comment on the closeness of these events at the time? I believe I did. I no longer read my old diaries regularly. I'm nauseated by myself, and keep the journals in a black box under lock and key.

To bed at 12:15 with King Edward VI.




-=-

Friday January 20, 1978

Snow, ice and generally an anti-social climate. I am going to join (Uncle) John in Lanzarote, Canary Islands.

David G.

Dave G makes a state visit to Pine Tops once again. The summer holiday is the main topic of the weekend conference. Poor David is more bald than ever.

We went to the Fox and Hounds where Pete M, Chris and Steve Hudson were assembled. They brought the news that they are not joining us abroad this year. Peter Aristotle Niarchos Mather Onassis, Junior cannot afford to go!! Obviously, I believe him. Chris has plans to go on a walking holiday in South Wales and visit an elderly maiden aunt in Canada. He too must have lost a slate or suddenly developed an aged attitude. Steve was his normal, pleasant, quiet self. _______. Martyn, we are told, is still in the running. ______. Home at 11:30 to a wine tasting session. We go to Bradford tomorrow to sort out the holiday 'problem'.


-=-

Friday January 13, 1978

Friday the Thirteenth. Can't remember whether today is supposed to be lucky or unlucky. One thing's for sure, it was the latter sort of day for Auntie Mabel. In Pudsey whilst out shopping this morning she bumped into her cousin Walter Basham (who is, or was, therefore, also my cousin). She remarked how ill he appeared and he replied: "Yes, Mabel, I don't feel too good" and without further ado he keeled over and died there and then in the street. Mabel is heartbroken. But that's the way to go though. Surely, better than lingering in some disinfected hospital ward for weeks on end?

Carrington's, Harrogate.

This evening Pete M came and we went to the Fox and Hounds. Joined there by Martyn and Chris. Tony was out with _______. From the Fox things went rapidly down hill. Peter wanted to go to Carrington's in Harrogate (where Lynne and I went a couple of times) and so this is where we had to go. A complete flop, so bad that at 12 we shot across the country to Oakwood Hall. I was startled to see how much the place has gone down since my last visit. It was really rough and I wouldn't have minded too much but for the fact that the three of us (Chris had gone home) were dressed up to the nines. Afterwards we dropped Martyn off at Ilkley and came back over the moors. The only profitable thing which took place all night occurred on Hawksworth Moor. Yes, a rabbit fell foul of Peter's van, and it's corpse was duly snatched up and carried off to Pine Tops in readiness for the Sunday dinner. Peter was shaken by the experience. He's not the killing type.

-=-

Friday January 6, 1978

Epiphany. Delivered my application form back to YTV and all I can do now is wait and hope. The girls were ever so curious when I left the office at noon and headed in the direction of the TV headquarters. They suspect I'm having a clandestine meeting with someone. Good, I'll keep them guessing.

Toy Womble...

Tonight David L phoned and we decided to go out to the Fox & Hounds. It was just like old times with just the two of us having a drink and a chat. I am always so happy and at ease when David is around. He is a real true friend. Chris, Pete M, Steve Hudson, Martyn and Tony came in later on followed by Laura Pattison (nee Butchart) and husband, Dave. Chatted to Tony. _______. At 11 they all shot off to Oakwood Hall and Dave and I paid a visit to John and Maria's. They were entertaining George and Jane, but they left on our arrival. David can be delightfully malicious on occasions. He told Maria that he hoped she wouldn't be jealous that was intending to go to Lynn & Dave's wedding when he hadn't bothered to turn up at her and John's! Laughed and tittered, we did. Maria gave David a massive quantity of vodka and me some revolting coffee wine which came from Dad. We stayed until after 1:00am and David played happily with JPH's toy 'Womble'.


-=-

Friday December 30, 1977

_.Met Jacqui at 4:30pm and, coincidentally, we spotted David and Mr Lawson conveniently parked at traffic lights on Wellington Street. Ferried home right to the door. Dave says he isn't going out tonight but he'll be on the scene tomorrow.

Jacqui looked very well. She has a new hairstyle. We do get on extremely well. At home we laughed over the photos of her last visit. Candle lit dinner with Mum, Dad and Susan.

From the sumptuous dining table we escaped with Sue, Pete, Janet (Simon) and Chippy to the Fox & Hounds. Joined by Martyn, Pete M and Chris.  __________________.

We came home and watched TV.

-=-

Monday December 26, 1977

Bank Holiday in England, Ireland, Scotland and Wales.

Dave.

David's Christmas party. For the first time in many years Mr & Mrs L(awson) haven't gone to Blackpool for the Yuletide festivities, but instead they spend the night at Sandra's.  The event went off with the usual bang. All the gang turned up except CB who is once again having boyfriend bother (Oh God).  Mr______made his usual quip about my dancing, and so I got my own back when he was preparing to leave. He and _____(who was surly, morose and introverted) left together and before a large audience in the kitchen I quipped: "Ay, Ay, off for our traditional screw on the Chevin, are we?" Tee Hee. Sandra was grotesquely pissed and I fear some of her lustre has faded. Linda D______ was present. A bit of a tart, I fear. _____.

Slept in my usual rooms at Tennyson Street. God knows what time I eventually crashed out.

-=-

Saturday November 26, 1977

Arose at 10. Mum tells me, over breakfast, that the Gloucester's baby is to be Lady Davina Elizabeth Alice Benedikte Windsor. Davina, eh? I'm not going to bother connecting the illustrious infant with a certain flaxen haired Oxfordshire maiden with big tits. The connection would be just too obvious. The young lady (the shapely blond one) is now the constant companion of young Winston Churchill's brother-in-law, Mr d'Erlanger.

Uncle Peter called in before lunch to see Mum. He was his usual boisterous self ___________.

The Black Horse.

I intended remaining by the fireside tonight but Mr Mather came up at 8 and easily persuaded me to join him and Martyn at the pub. We drank at the Black Horse at Askwith, the Black Bull at Otley and Fox and Hounds at Menston. Wendy Smith, Anne and Sue (Smith's) joined us at the Fox and the six of us went off merrily to Oakwood Hall. _______. Oakwood Hall was reminiscent of a deep jungle. The humidity was incredible. Wendy and I had a few drinks and danced together continuously. I was pissed.  Peter was with Sue (who told me in strictest confidence that she hates his guts!) and Martyn and Anne were not on friendly terms. I thoroughly enjoyed myself.  My God Wendy is a big girl! On to 21, Victoria Drive, Horsforth, with a pissed Peter. Young Chris was out until 4am with Michelle. Dirty bugger.

-=-