Friday September 27, 1974

Carol and I are alone all day at the YP. She discloses to me that one of the new journalists, who seems to be a bit of a drip, is the eldest son and heir of Viscount Monckton of Brenchley. If I'd have known this last week I'd have doffed my cap or something when he approached me in the search for some things that had gone missing from his desk.

On the subject of the peerage, I see in the YP that the Duke of Roxburghe died yesterday after collapsing on his grouse moor. The new duke is a 19 year-old soldier who is in Cyprus at the moment. He is the youngest duke living at the moment. (I bet that piece of information gave everyone a tremendous thrill & rivetted you all to the diary, tongues hanging out in anticipation for more tales of an equally seductive character).

To the Hare and Hounds tonight. Carol and John are still deep in the depths of new romance, though I must say most of the passion seems to come from Carol, __________, as I discovered at one of our parties last November. Denny baby sits tonight and is not with us.

All go to Wikis where I accidentally stand on the toes of an attractive young lady while dancing, which results in my spending the remainder of the night with her. She's called Sarah Jane and lives in Otley and is a personal friend of Dave Baker's. Quite a pleasant diversion anyway. Come home quite alone in the rain at 2.30. Clad only in my trousers and shirt sleeves I was rather soggy on my arrival at the Rhodes ancestral pile.

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Monday August 19, 1974

After the weekend I will never again _________.Wake at 7.30. YP very interesting. Carol, Sarah and I decide to go out for a drink one lunchime later in the week, and decide to make a regular habit of it. Believe it or not, I am now attracted to Sarah more than ever and can forsee the possibility of a future relationship.

File some pictures of the Duchess of Gloucester and decide once and for all that she is now the sex symbol of the Royal Family. Of course, most Danes are fair haired and pretty. That Prince Richard certainly knew what he was doing when he got her down the aisle.

Home at 6. Sit listening to 'Gypsy Man' by War whilst eating a salad, trying to avoid the arguing of John and Mama in the lounge - quarrellng over the serious business of buying and selling cars.

I must remember to buy Phyllis Whitethighs a birthday card for Wednesday August 21. Lynn is to accompany the mob to the Hare to join in the festivities of this joyous occasion - should be fun.

See TV all evening including a programme about the history of the Labour party which was very interesting. See on the news that the U.S. ambassador to Cyprus was assassinated in Nicosia last night. A sticky international situation may well arise from this atrocity. No one rings me by 9 o'clock and I give up hope of outside contact tonight.

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