Monday March 26, 1979

_. Are all the Daves in my journal causing confusion? I do try to put the initial of the surname of each Dave after his name in an entry, and so Dave Lawson is Dave L and Dave Baker is Dave B, &c. Dave Glynn is obviously Dave Y, and Dave Wainwright is Arthur Hailey. Prince Andrew = David Ben Gurion, and the late Duke of Windsor, always David to his family, is now Wally.

Uncle Tony's mother, Mrs Doris Gadsby, was cremated at Rawdon this morning. She died at Pudsey last Thursday. The poor old girl was deserted by her husband, Norman, in 1937, and nobody has heard of him since.

Alison phoned Lynn today. All is now over between her and John Pinder. She now wants to move back to Yorkshire and take a flat in the vicinity but until this is achieved then she will come and live with us. Isn't this exciting, folks? Our little Ally coming to Pine Tops. I informed Mama that I will write to Alison and invite her to stay with us because she is far too bashful to suggest this herself.

"Fear is realising you can't do it the second time, and panic is realising for the second time that you can't do it." Eh? I don't get that.

The poor, broken Shah [of Iran] would like to come and die of a broken heart here in Britain, but the revolting Socialist MPs are protesting. What possible harm can the old boy do? The harshness and cruelty of the jealous crew at Westminster is forever reaching new bounds. They would leap around with joy, urinating in their pin-striped trousers if the Ayatollah purchased Buckinghamshire or Chou En-Lai took over Mentmore Towers. Did anyone complain when Ben Lyon came to live here? Precisely. Besides, just think how our economy would be boosted by all those millions of Iranian rupees, or whatever the Iranian currency is. I doubt very much that His Imperial Majesty would want to live off our social security. It's a repeat of the Tsar Nicholas case in 1918.

Watched "Fawlty Towers" on the BBC ~ the last of the series which is very sad.

Peter came here at 8. Susan sat making a rug and he sat facing her in another chair. Normally they are joined together on a sofa, but I suppose we all tire of constant molestation after years and years of endless groping.

Bed at 12 with The Secret of Chimneys. Lay there listening to the wind howling outside.

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Sunday January 14, 1979

2nd after Epiphany. We crawled out of our respective holes at about 10:30am for breakfast after which we played cards on the dining room table until 12:30. Sue howled with laughter at Dave G's hopelessness. At 1pm we had one in the Red Lion again before devouring a lunch of roast beef and Yorkshire pudding

Lynn loves to cook and entertain and she does it very well.

Cards continued throughout the afternoon. Chris Baker and Julie (Harris) arrived. Julie puts an instant smile on my face, but nobody else seems to find her amusing or entertaining. Chris B looks upon me as a lunatic, or eccentric, for some strange reason. They left after an hour or so.

Lynn complained of feeling grotty and took off to bed for a couple of hours, but none of this interrupted the card game. They (the Bakers) finally got rid of us at about 8:30 & we returned home. A good weekend.

Watched the film "Room At the Top" with Dave.

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Saturday January 13, 1979

Dave (Glynn) and I had breakfast with Sue. Poor Mum is in bed with an upset stomach & so she didn't surface all day. Pale and ghastly.

Dave and I had a little pub crawl in Guiseley. We had one at the Yorkshire Rose where an OAP told us that his Jack Russell terrier is pregnant. A tart in the bar referred to the landlord as "you big fat twat". Yes, a nice, tasteful atmosphere prevailed. We made our way to the incredibly dull Regent and finally, at 2:45pm, onto the Station Hotel.

Snow and ice underfoot was something of a hazard to begin with but the more we drank the more confident we became negotiating the glassy footpaths like John Currie and Robin Cousins.{I suspect both these gents are close friends of Jeremy Thorpe, MP}.

Tonight: to Burley~in~Wharfedale with Dave, Sue & Pete to see Lynn and Dave B. The Bakers both looked as fit as butcher's dogs - especially Lynn who is pink and 'radiating'. We all piled into the Red Lion following a pantomime on ice in the car park there. Boozed solidly until 11 o'clock and then took fish & chips back to Lawn Road . We laughed at the fact that for the purposes of the kitty Dave and I were classed as a 'couple'.

We drank until about 1:30am & then Susie and Pete staggered off to the spare bedroom for a further instalment of the wildest pre~marital experience since Anthony & Cleopatra.

Dave B collapsed onto the sofa and didn't bat an eyelid until after 3 leaving Dave G, Lynn and I singing along to Nat King Cole's greatest hits. Dave B makes a regular habit of slipping into a convenient coma at every available opportunity. He hops off to bed or collapses into a medium sized heap on the carpet. Good old Dave. He thrust a £10 note into my hot, grasping hand when I said I wanted to buy a pair of shoes on Monday. (I shall, of course, let him have it back next week). But isn't it marvellous of him to 'see me right'? A real brother is David Baker, a real brother.

Lynn finally carried her husband off to bed and Dave G and I slept in the lounge (or sitting room depending on how posh you happen to be). It was 3:30am, I think.

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Sunday December 10, 1978

2nd Sunday in Advent

No hangover. Up at a grotesquely late hour. Lynn and David were screaming with laughter in the garden with Mum and Dad and Chris Baker and three or four Christmas trees. Rain was gushing down but it didn't dampen Lynn's high spirits. She is always wonderful and child~like at Yuletide ~ even after all these years of marital agony. This hysteria comes the ancient Wilson love of Christmas which is steeped in folklore and mystery. The things Great~Uncle Albert did with his mince pies cannot adequately be described here.

Discussing next year's holiday with Sue she says that she and Pete cannot be included because they are saving up this year and intend getting engaged in January, 1980, and married in the following June. She'd like to marry on June 19 ~ Mum & Dad's 26th wedding anniversary. Nothing is official of course, and no doubt Peter will be the last to know. She is always so calm about these matters and almost unenthusiastic. In similar circumstances Lynn would be on the verge of wetting herself. I will not believe it until I actually see it.

Dad and Dave went down to Burley (in Wharfedale) to glue tiles all over the kitchen and Lynn and Mum spent the afternoon baking mince pies.

We all ate at about 6:30 and then I persuaded them to watch "Richard II" by Shakespeare on BBC2. Lynn and Dave went off at about 9 o'clock because she couldn't understand John of Gaunt's senile deliberations. I really do think that the young people of today should have more patience with Shakespeare. He is so easy to understand if you are prepared to concentrate. Lynn said she thought the play was boring! How can Richard II be boring?

To bed at 1:00am and shudder at the thought of the YP. Weekends just dissolve, don't they?

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Sunday November 5, 1978

24th after Trinity

8th Sunday before Christmas

Hullo Guy Fawkes, wherever you are. Up at 10:30 for gallons of toast and piles of hot, buttered tea (sic). A sunny, bright, autumn day. Jacq and I stayed at Lawn Road throughout and had a pleasant time with Lynn & Dave.

Lynn dragged us round Burley for half an hour before giving us a massive luncheon. My job for the entire day was to stoke the fire and keep it blazing. Either Lynn's made a close friend of Arthur Scargill or they've found a rich coal seam beneath the house.

Watched a Fred Astaire film which included scenes from the 1947 Royal wedding at the end. Sarah Churchill, Winston's daughter, had a part in the film too. She certainly resembles old Clem. It was all quite nauseating.

Jacq and Lynn seem to have hit it off marvellously. Jacq sees a good deal of me in Lynn and vice versa.

Later we watched Lillie Langtry ~ no comment. Home in fog at 10 o'clock.

Mum and Dad had just returned from Auntie Mabel's. Mama looked really nice in a new green dress with the handbag and shoes bought for the wedding. She was laughing over the Sunday Express article about the Prince of Wales escorting Princess NORA of Liechtenstein.

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Wednesday November 1, 1978

All Saints

Sarah and I went to the Red Lion in Burley this evening and then on to Lynn and Dave's where we watched tv ~ Lesley Anne Down's portrayal of Phyllis Dixey, the stripper.

Sarah wasn't feeling too well and was very pale and tired. I sampled 'Arctic Lite' lager ~ not for me. Too dry. Dave and I dashed back over to the Red Lion at 9:30 to get a few more bottles and I paid for the lot. I am really enjoying my new~found wealth.

David seems to like Sarah. _______________________.

Sarah and I got the 11:30 bus. Squabbled with Motherdear about something ~ I've forgotten what. Retired to bed.

Jacq and I have got seats in the stand on Nov 11 for the Lord Mayor of London's parade at the Mansion House in London. The old boy, Sir Kenneth Cork, is an old mate of Derek Sate's, I think. __________.

-=-

Saturday October 28, 1978

Sun rises 07:46 Sun sets 17:42

St Simon & St Jude

Lynn and Dave are consoling Alison today. She should have been marrying at 2pm.

Mum and Dad went off early this morning to Whitby. They are spending the night at the pub overlooking the harbour. I sat at home all day quite alone. _______________________.

At 6:30 I went over to Sarah's and we moved on to Carol's flat and eventually at 7:30 we went to Headingley to meet Jacq. She said she wouldn't arrive until 8 and so I told Sarah and Carol to go on ahead to the Damn Yankee. _________. Jacq didn't eventually come until 8:30 and so we didn't get to the Regent until about 9. The four of us stood in the Regent like wet fish. Sarah went to sit in the car at ten because she said she was feeling faint. Carol went off with Roy _______________________.

We dropped Jacq off at 10:30 and then Sarah made a miraculous recovery and we returned to Pine Tops and played records, drank lager and elderflower champagne until about 2. We danced the tango across the dining room to Donna Summer ~ Sarah with a large plastic flower clasped firmly between her teeth. Hilarious.

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Saturday October 21, 1978

Sun rises 07:34 Sun sets 17:56

I came out of my coma at approximately 8 o'clock this morning. I thought, once again, that my end had come. These feelings of forthcoming doom, yeah of death, are recurring and on an increasing and alarming scale.

I took Jacq into town where she had to show her face at Dacre Son & Hartley and I got a bus home for 10 o'clock. Had a cup of tea with Mum and Dad and then fell into my wondrous bed until 3pm when I was awakened by Lynn on the phone wanting Alison's number. She wants to ring to discuss details of the wedding next week. I went back to bed until 5.

I emerged to have tea and within minutes Lynn and Dave arrived from Pool (in Wharfedale) and she was sobbing like a baby. The worst has happened. John P called off the wedding this morning. Alison will be distraught. Lynn had spoken to Mrs Dixon, who had only been told ten minutes before. The situation is terrible. _________________________.

I was out to Leeds again at 7:30 and Jacq and I went to the George where Haydn and his friends were gathered before heading to another party. Neither of us were in party spirits. Tiredness from last night and the sad news from Winchester just seem to have flattened the whole evening.

We went back to the Y.W.C.A and drank fruity punch and watched Iranians, Greeks, and other various nationalities leaping around to Boney M and the delights of 'Rasputin'.

At 2am and after a 5ft Persian homosexual had asked me if I wanted to dance with him, I sent Jacq to bed and proceeded to walk home. It was almost 5am, and drizzling slightly, when I fell through the door. Knackered.


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Wednesday October 18, 1978

St Luke

Laughter. Sarah and I went out at lunchtime and I posed for some ridiculous locket photographs in a booth at the bus station. Quite hideous. I have never been photogenic, but these are the ultimate. Mel Hulme, the EP photographer, also took pics of me in the YP car park to illustrate the article going in Postscript regarding my adventure on the Father's Day trip to Blackpool in June. Tony Green came over after lunch and took down the sordid story of my motorway excursion from Hell. I'm sure he thinks I am raving mad.

The new Pope is still alive, and I think well, which seems strange after the recent epidemic of papal stiffs over the past few months. Dr Cobweb, our revered Archbishop of Canterbury, is to attend the Pope's installation in Rome next Sunday. He was criticised last month for failing to attend Pope John Paul I's 'knees up' so I suppose he is making amends.

Lynn and Dave had a bump in the car on Queensway this morning. All the front of his car is smashed in but neither of them sustained injury. Lynn was slightly shook up. Dave estimates damage to the spitfire at £100, and the offending other driver also suffered in the entanglement.

-=-

Sunday October 15, 1978

21st after Trinity

Woke up at about 11 ~ on the floor at Lawn Road. Had breakfast and watched the deluge outside from the window. Pissed it down. Dave slung a few records on his stereo and that that set the tone for the day. We almost froze to death too, until they lit the fire at about noon. I don't think they can afford the coal.

At 12:30 we ventured over in the rain to the Red Lion. The landlord their is probably the most miserable pub proprietor in Britain. Rude just isn't the word.

Lynn excelled herself at lunch. Pizzas, roast potatoes, peas, &c. She was beaming all day. She loves seeing us all. She told us she's been really homesick and close to tears at night time. Bless her.

In the afternoon I slept in an armchair. John, Maria and JPH came at 5:30. My nephew walked around the house with his arms clasped behind his back. He loved the journey home in the dark pointing at the 'man in the Moon'. I can already detect a Scottish accent. I must be imagining things.

At home watched 'Lillie Langtry'. It's too slow. Bed at midnight.

-=-

Wednesday September 27, 1978

David the brother~in~law collected Jacq and I in Leeds at 5:30 and took us to Burley~in~Wharfedale. Lynn poured sherry down us and we sat by the fireside. Susan and Pete arrived at 7:30. Dave went out for fish & chips and we had a collection and bought another 'pop bottle' full of sherry from the proprietor of the off~licence store at the end of Lawn Road (is she Mrs Beasley?). Lynn, clutching an empty pop bottle, is making far too many calls on this lady.

We sat until 10:30. I took Jacq to a bus stop and deposited her on a 733 to Leeds and then went back to say goodbye to Lynn. They are unbelievably short of money. It's refreshing to find someone else in financial ruin and destitution. They look so happy though.

-=-

Saturday September 9, 1978

Sun rises 06:25 Sun sets 19:30

A dull, dismal day, with the occasional damp patch. Lynn and David's wedding day. She was divine, beaming and beautiful. Even my nerves were bad this morning, and the number of people in the house, and all the excitement didn't help matters. The wedding was soon upon us. Lynn dressed in white saying goodbye as Miss Rhodes. Dad was very pale. We found a whisky bottle.

Dad was close to tears as he took Lynn on his arm down the aisle, and when he witnessed the marriage after the ceremony he signed one of the certificates incorrectly and the Reverend Mr Ward had to tear a page from his register in front of the entire congregation. Auntie Mabel told Mum that Dad had wept as he walked down the aisle, but this is a slight exaggeration. The ceremony was moving, the reception excellent. Uncle H(arry) never arrived ~ which is just as well.

The only mishap of the day was that the DJ was two hours late and the disco didn't start until 9 o'clock. I mixed with most of the guests. I discussed women with Uncle Peter and chatted about Evelyn Waugh and satire with Uncle Bert. Frank (Harwood) measured me for a new suit in the middle of the dance floor ~ and that will set me back £20, or so. (These suits fall off a lorry in the vicinity of Burton's).

John and Maria brought Jacq and I back to Pine Tops at 12 and we mucked around in the dining room for hours. Dave had carried Lynn from the dance floor up to a room at the hotel and my little sister was gone forever. Things will never be the same again.

-=-

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.

-=-

Friday September 1, 1978

David B's 'stag night' in Leeds. Jacq came here with me after work and this evening she went with Lynn and her cronies (including Sue of course) to Shipley and the Elma.

Dave and Trevor (his workmate) came here at 8 and we went with Peter N to the Station Hotel, supposedly for a bus. George Waite's car pulled up and out he came with John, Maria and a long~haired Alec McHarrie. ________________. Heavily pregnant Jayne Waite drove us to Jacomelli's in Leeds where things got under way. On to Cinderella Rockerfella's. All quite blurred. I recall attempting to persuade a young lady to call off her wedding set for next Saturday, and to marry me instead. She wasn't particularly attractive either. In fact she was squat and greasy.

Returned to Pool~in~Wharfedale at 2am where Dave, Pete, Trevor and I did hand stands on Pool Bank, and later at Dave's house we drank Audrey's supply of Creme de Menthe, Bailey's Irish Cream, coffee liqueur, and much more. No idea what time we went to bed.

-=-

Saturday August 26, 1978

Sun rises 06:03 Sun sets 20:01

Up at 10. Sarah made me scrambled eggs on toast. I felt slightly worse for wear. Sarah and Delia fussed over me. They went to the Ilkley Antiques Fair at 11 and dropped me at home. A quick change of clothes and I went back to Leeds to meet Jacq and Trixie at the Dragonara. First I went to the Y.W.C.A to pay my respects to Hayden, who begged me to find him a surgeon who might perform a head transplant on him.

Went with Jacq and Trixie to Whitelocks. We sat from 12:30 until 3 in the pleasant atmosphere of one of Leeds's finest and most ancient taverns. Afterwards we went to Trixie's room at the hotel for even more drink, and finally, at about 5:30 we left for Guiseley.

John and Maria had been round in the afternoon but we just missed seeing them. After dinner with the family we took Lynn & Dave to the Drop where we celebrated the coming wedding, minus 2 weeks. Pernod dribbled everywhere. Lynn was quite overcome by it all and had to go sit outside.

Back to Pine Tops afterwards.

-=-

Thursday August 17, 1978

Wedding fever is taking it's toll on Mama more than most. This morning with Dad and I at breakfast a very violent discussion took place. ______________________________.

To Otley Hospital at 10 with Dad. He disagreed with Mum's opinion, and was quiet and subdued in the car. I was discharged from the hospital and sent packing with a bundle of anti~septic dressings.

A bright, sunny morning. I arrived at the YP at 11:15. Sarah was in a more endearing mood. She says she and 'Auntie' are coming to see us this evening.

I gave Lynn £15 for a wedding present and went with Dad and Dave to Lawn Road. The place looks more like a home than a building site now, and within a week the place will be ready for habitation. Back home at 9:45. Sarah and Delia didn't appear but 'old faithfuls' Jim and Margaret were knocking back beer and munching on peanuts. We watched 'I, Claudius' on the BBC and sat around until 1am. __________________.

-=-

Wednesday August 16, 1978

Dave had kipped down on my bedroom floor and so he took me into Leeds with him at 8:30 this morning. He looked very pale after last night's booze. He told me he's sick to death of Thomson, Spencer & Partners, and is completely at a loose end. Poor sod ~ he does get very low at times. He even said, as we sped along, how he can understand why people take to drugs.

Sarah wasn't in a much better mood today. ___________. She could have me any time she wished, but she never really knows just who or what she really wants.

Tonight Dad, Jim and I continued the renovation of 7 Lawn Road. It is very good of Jim to lend his services. He kept asking for jobs to do and I was ordering him about. Jim looks and acts like an old retainer. The sight of him doffing his cap to a passing squire wouldn't be out of place at all. He also resembles King Henry VIII's ill~fated chancellor, Thomas Cromwell. A nice guy though.

At 10:30 Dad and I went to the fish and chip shop and bought a large selection of fried foods for the unsuspecting people at home.

Laurence Olivier and Felix Aylmer are on TV in a 1943 drama. A good piece of British war~time propaganda. To bed too tired even for Lady Chatterley's demands upon me.

-=-

Tuesday August 15, 1978

A humid, thundery day. The morning papers have photographs of Princess Anne and Peter Phillips spread thickly about, on this HRH's 28th birthday. It is a disgrace that Her Majesty's grandson is of no higher rank than a British Railways ticket collector or lowly road sweeper. Even the cleaning lady with 50 years' service at Montague Burton's and awarded the B.E.M is of greater rank. Poor little chap. However, it is a sign of the times I do suppose.

Sarah was in a strange mood today. I saw her laughing and squealing in the company of John Mac. God knows what became of this so-called estrangement.

Met Jacq at lunchtime and we had a couple of drinks at the Ostlers. She gave me some Royal Albert china for mother. I told her I'm working on Friday night. At least we'll have a cheap weekend. On Saturday we plan to see Lord Olivier in 'The Betsy' a film from the Harold Robbins book of the same name. I read the book about six years ago. Sir Laurence plays his first movie sex scenes with 'Roxanne' the French maid. Whatever next?

Tonight I went with Jim Nason to Lawn Road and bashed around on the staircase for a couple of hours. Lynn, Dave, Mum and Dad went to the Cow & Calf Hotel to sort out the wedding reception and Jim and I met them at the Red Lion for a couple of drinks at 10:15. Lynn was slightly pissed and went straight up to bed on her arrival home.

Wedding fever is choking us all. I'm sure Lynn's sickness this evening was just as just excitement as alcohol. A man in a Jag followed her at walking pace down the lane this morning with eyes and everything else bulging, heavy breathing, &c. The pervert obviously needs his extremities hacking off.

-=-

Thursday August 10, 1978

Pleasant, enjoyable day. Sarah and I ventured to the Jubilee pub (opposite the Town Hall) where I had a couple of pints of lager while she knocked back DOUBLE Dry Martini with lemonade. A hardened little boozer is S.E. Collis.

I asked Kathleen whom she thought might be the next Pope. She said she had no idea and knows no princes of the Church other than Cardinal Heenan, who happens to have confirmed her when he was Bishop of Leeds.

Tonight at 7:30 Dave B and I went to Lawn Road and messed about until about 10. Not a particularly enlightening evening and my poor, scarred arse didn't help much. Poor Dave has only four weeks of normality remaining. My deepest sympathy goes out to all wretched souls now on the verge of that catastrophic leap into matrimony.

Jim and Margaret were here watching Caligula (John Hurt) get axed from the party leadership in 'I, Claudius' (again). The boozing lasted until 2:30am. Jim tells me Cardinal Benelli is favourite in the pontiff stakes and it's hardly worth it putting a bet on him.

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Saturday August 5, 1978

Sun rises 05:30 Sun sets 20:43

First Day of Ramadan {tabular}

A full day at Burley painting the bathroom. It now resembles a peppermint cream because it's chocolate and lime. Dad and Dave put up beams in the lounge and Henry Baker fixed the sink, &c.

Home at 6:30 and an hour later, clad in white trousers, Philippe Junot~styled sandals, I was waiting at the Station Hotel for Jacq. She arrived ~ a vision of loveliness ~at 7:45 and we messed around for half an hour waiting for a bus to take us to the Fox & Hounds. From the start of the evening we were 'dogged' by accidents of one kind or another. On the way to meet Jacq I was seriously 'pawed' by an Alsatian dog who muddied my trousers. On our arrival at the Fox Jacq went to the ladies (toilet) taking with her my camera and flash cubes in her handbag and when she emerged minutes later she was screaming with laughter and bearing in her hands a conglomeration of wet photographic equipment ~ Yes, it had all accidentally fallen down the bog! Luckily all seemed to be working after we had shaken off the water.

Jacq and I were drinking Stella Artois and we became quite merry. David L joined us and Sue, Dave B, Lynn, John, Maria, Sarah C, John Mac, Christine D and Graham A, &c. Susan had had some sort of fall out with Peter about coming to the Fox and he had gone off somewhere with Chippy. He eventually followed her to the party (David L's) but she had nothing to do with him for the rest of the night. Jacq and I went with Sarah and John and he insisted on having fish and chips first which set us back a bit.

My recollections of the night are dim and mixed. Janet Rootes (Roots?) arrived with Mick Orchard and his wife and we laughed a good deal about old times. She talked about June B but I cannot remember exactly what was discussed. Tony, Martyn and Chris R were there.

A nasty accident occurred. I sat on a glass. A sherry glass to be precise. It gave me a deep cut at the top of my buttocks, and I bled profusely for over an hour. My white trousers were ruined. People filed solemnly through the bedroom to inspect the damage, and it soon became clear that I'd require stitches. So, at 5am Dave B drove me to Otley Hospital where I was given three stitches. The nurses were in hysterics at the sight of my holed and bloody underpants. I looked like the victim of an attempted assassination. We arrived home after 7. Lynn and Jacq were waiting patiently.

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