Thursday December 19, 1974

A more congenial day. Left the office with Sarah at 12 and we did a bit of shopping in town before going our separate ways. Funny girl is our Sarah. A perfect Angel but temperamental beyond human understanding.

I got myself a Monty Python LP, the one I heard in Worcester, and bought Dad's Xmas present - a Perry Como LP. Really should have stayed in Leeds to buy all my presents but couldn't be bothered at all. 

Nipped onto a bus and was home in time to see the final part of 'The Forsyte Saga'. I was quite emotional when Soames passed away at the end. Sat choked in a heap besides the lit Christmas tree.

David called for me at about 8.10 after queueing for a tank full of petrol before the 10p price increase at midnight. To the Stone Trough for one drink. MM, Marita and Denny were awaiting our arrival. Moved on to the school (Benton Park) at 8.30 where the lovely Christine Braithwaite joined us. What a bloody scorcher she is - and a good deal more mature than when I last saw her. Denny goes off with Martin Vere-Bujnowski all night and she barely said a full sentence to me._______.A good deal of kissing went on underneath the mistletoe. Kicked out at 11.30 and moved on to Denny's - that is David and me -where we laughed over supper until 1.30. Home in the car.

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Wednesday November 13, 1974

Edward III, born 1312. Glorious day, excluding the weather. Up with the larks at 7.30 and everyone thinks I'm mad when I insist on going into Bradford to see the Queen's progress through the city. Her Majesty last came here in 1954 so it's not every day that one receives the opportunity to stand about for four and a half hours in pouring rain making a fool of oneself. The Queen arrived at 10.15 and she came into my view fifteen minutes after her arrival. Dressed in peach coloured orange with a matching hat she looked beautiful. And beautiful isn't the wrong word here. On TV or in photographs one wouldn't say this 48 year-old woman looked 'beautiful' but when ones receives the opportunity to see her in the flesh, her radiance and fantastic complexion knocks all sense of reason out of one. Got a thorough soaking, and in order to dry out I went to Denny's and the warmth of WH Smith's. We decide to go for lunch together, and at 12 we meet her friend, Lucy, who shares a flat with Judith B, my passion in June/July. We are caught up in a crowd near the Town Hall and before we know what is happening we are in the midst of one of the Queen's 'walkabouts'. A massive crowd shrouds her from our view, but by leaping about at regular intervals I get a view of the Queen and can hear her voice as she speaks to people in the crowd. You can imagine how emotional Denny was. And even Lucy, who didn't look interested at first, went away with a brand new lease of life. The girls go back to work at 1pm and I wait outside the Town Hall (flying the Royal Standard) whilst the Queen lunches. At 2 a massive crowd is gathered to see the Queen's departure for Halifax. An unforgetable, fantastic day.

Home at 3 to devour six pancakes and see 'The Forsyte Saga' on TV... followed by an hour long soak in the bath. See a film which shows a woman giving birth in the opening scenes 'Silly Cow' or something, they called it. An appropriately crude title.

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Wednesday October 16, 1974

Cold and miserable all day. Really a typical autumn. My half-day. Meet Lynne outside the YP at a bit past 12. Because of the rain we go to Whitelocks, where we have one drink and discuss what we want to do for the rest of the afternoon. Don't fancy walking through Leeds in the drizzle, and she suggests we go home to Bramhope, for lunch, &c.

Look around the Art Gallery whilst waiting for the bus, and eventually arrive at Lynne's at 2. We sit cosily on her sumptuous sofa, doing romantic things like eating beans on toast, and afterwards the passion becomes too great for us and we go wild watching a repeat of the 'Forsyte Saga' on the BBC until 4. We leave at 4.30. She goes to Leeds to have tea with her Papa, who is general manager of Schofield's (just thought I'd drop that morsel of information in). I get several buses and eventually roll in at 6. See 'Carry On Screaming' till 8 and feel generally bored. John goes out as usual, and so too do Mum and Dad. Dave rings Lynn, Peter calls on Susan - so in one way or another we are all paired off now. Haven't seen or heard of Denny since Saturday.

Dustmen who went on strike in Nottingham after being called 'idiots' by a local councillor, have gone back to work after the young man in question made a public apology. (Just heard that morsel on Radio Luxembourg and thought I'd slip it in).

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Saturday October 12, 1974

Lynn wakes me at 7 and I feel absolutely shocking. Lay on the dining room floor - eyes tightly closed - wishing that last night had never happened.

Go to the YP. Sarah says I look shocking. I blame myself entirely. Leave at 12. Home by half past. Have lunch which revives me slightly, then lay on the bed for a few minutes to recouperate.

John suggests we go to Otley and (strangely) I agree. I say strangely, because walking around the market towns of West Yorkshire on a Saturday afternoon cannot be the best hang-over cure. We go, but find nothing worth buying in the town's only boutique. Decide to move on to Bradford.

A beautiful afternoon and I am in shirt-sleeves all the time. Go see Lynn working at the British Home Stores - she's quite busy, then go see Denny. I get a pair of trousers, but John comes home empty handed. A bomb-scare in the Arndale Centre held things up for a few hours. Give Sue and Peter a lift home at 6. (Cousin) Jackie and Lynn arrive home together, and by 8 we are in the Hare & Hounds. Lynne M doesn't come until nearly 9 because Chris was ferrying her and Peter M. Move on to the George & Dragon where I have a tremendous laugh with Dave L. Nobody wants to go to the other Jackie's party, and therefor Chris, dear Lynne, Peter and I go back to the Mather residence where we stay till 2.30.Mr & Mrs Mather are like somebody from the 'Forsyte Saga', but the most decent future possible in-laws anyone could wish for.

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