Monday November 27, 1978

Phoned Carole at B.S. & W. Whiteley's at Pool~in~Wharfedale this morning. We discussed her 21st birthday party on Saturday at the Cow & Calf. She said it was a drunken affair and that everyone who should have attended had done so and then she giggled slightly. I told her I had been to Stranraer and she asked about Maria. I told her that she had been the topic of discussion on Saturday when we were pissed up and she exclaimed "Oh God, I can imagine what you were talking about". She told me that she and Fogarty had split "for a fortnight so that she could have a break". Now was my chance surely to get hold of Carole, but after ten minutes of natter down went the phone having made no plans to meet.

Christine phoned later. She told me that now was my chance to pursue Carole again. I will contact her later in the week. Christine said she is free on Saturday, and so I might be escorting one of the region's most glamorous females._____________.

I wrote to David L in Hockley Heath. I fear I have been neglecting him. I don't think he'll be home until after Christmas.

Saw in some of the newspapers that the Prince of Wales and Lady Jane Wellesley have been together in Spain over theweekend at the estate of the Duke of Wellington. This is a weird relationship. They have been on and off since 1972. Lady Jane will be 28 next. A Princess of Wales is going to have to be young enough to produce a few children, and Lady Jane is on the verge of becoming an ancient relic. John MacMurray saw Lady Jane in the flesh a few months ago at a NUJ meeting and he was far from impressed. Mind you, nothing much impresses John.

Lady Sarah Spencer's dad is critically ill following a cerebral haemorrhage and I do suppose he'll shortly be giving up the ghost. The heir to the earldom is the 14 year-old Lord Althorp.

Just watched TV tonight. Mum and Dad went to Lynn and Dave's at 8 and stayed until 10. They returned virtually frozen to death.

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Friday April 14, 1978

Mother woke me at 10:30 with a coffee and the horrible Daily Mail. Half an hour later they collected Edith and Ernest and set off to Morecambe where they are holidaying for the weekend.

A bright, sunny morning, but the confounded snow is still clinging to the garden. The poor daffodils look absolutely stupid. I sat with the radio blasting merrily away and with a volume of Mr Pepys's journal laying open. The 1650s were no less permissive than the 1970s. Some of the people today who moan about the state of affairs ~ morally ~ really should spend half an hour with Samuel Pepys, Esq.

I spent the whole day eating, reading and being blasted out of my chair by the record player. Sarah phoned at lunchtime to ask for the maiden name of the divorced wife of the present Earl of Dartmouth. After a slight pause I told her that the lady is the former Miss Raine McCorquodale, now wife of Lord Spencer, and daughter of the revolting authoress Barbara Cartland. To be honest, I thought Sarah was really phoning to see if I was really laid up at home, and the aristocratic inquiry was a last resort when I surprised her by picking up the receiver. I do have a devious mind.


Raine McCorquodale, Countess Spencer.

For lunch I made fish and parsley sauce with a touch of garlic. Susan was home at 4:30 and we had a prawn curry. Can you imagine what state my breath is in? However, undaunted, I met Jacq at 7:45 and went to the Yorkshire Rose. From here we went to the Crown at Yeadon (a cold night) and then the Clothiers where we were joined by Sue, Pete, Gus, Chippy, Janet Simon, Dave (Wainwright), Brian Johnson, &c. I was 'grossly over served' with drink, for the want of a better phrase, and smoked several of Jacq's cigarettes.

At 11:30 we all went back to Pine Tops where the spotty faced, teenage Dave made several passes at Jacq saying he'd never liked Cockneys until he met her. To be honest, he was only hanging around to smoke her cigs.

I was legless and threw up in the garden that is dear Papa's pride and joy. I was in a disgusting state. Chippy and Gus were behaving in a riotous fashion.

Lynn and Dave were utter miseries and she stormed off to bed after Dave's departure and insisted on yelling down at me from the top of the stairs about the volume of the record player. Susan and Peter somehow managed to snatch my bed and Jacq and I collapsed on Mum and Dad's bed. I think it was probably 2:30am when things died down.

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Wednesday August 3, 1977

Dave Glynn's 23rd birthday. I must give him a buzz to organise the holiday reunion party. We can't lose contact with dear John, Steve and Noel. Stayed in bed until after 9 o'clock. After all, I didn't get in until 5.30. I cannot be expected to have a mere two hours sleep and then roll into the office. I phoned Sarah to break the news of my absence and she was quite chirpy and nice. "I hope you'll soon be better" she chirped.

Lady Sarah Spencer: no beauty.

Frank Perfect, the husband of the sweet, little old lady from Westgate, Tranmere Park, who befriended me in my newspaper delivery days, is dead. I haven't seen either of them for two or three years, but they took a real shine to me and always made me feel welcome. He was only 62. He was the general factory manager of J.I. Case Co Ltd, manufacturers of construction equipment, and in charge of their Leeds plant since 1964. Perhaps I should send Mrs P a letter or something.

The Prince of Wales Romance Stakes are opening again. We now have three candidates in the running (according to the beloved Press). They are: Davina Sheffield, Princess Marie-Astrid and the Lady Elizabeth Sarah Lavinia Spencer. Lady Sarah is a daughter of the 8th Earl Spencer and is step-daughter of Raine, Countess Spencer, who was previously Lady Dartmouth. Her ancestors include at least three dukes, Marlborough, Abercorn and Bedford, and the Earls of Lucan crop up once or twice in her lineage. However, she is no beauty. After the gorgeous Davina Sheffield I'm afraid it's all down hill as far as I'm concerned. I just don't know what HRH must be thinking. A big, stately home in Kent standing empty (Chevening), just waiting for the feminine touch of some willowy princess, but he's making no attempt to provide the nation with one. The Duke of Edinburgh once made a speech about 'pulling the finger out', well I think he should get onto his eldest son.

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