Monday August 21, 1978

Mrs Christine Newton, Princess Margaret and the Hon Gerald Lascelles are leaping around in their carpet slippers today tearing open birthday cards & presents, and devouring large chunks of iced fruit cake. I haven't laid eyes on Mrs Newton since the day of her marriage in August last year. She may be dead. She may be expecting a multiple birth to fill the bedrooms of her pleasant semi-detached property.

Sarah was taken ill at the YP with pains in her chest (again). She looked awfully pale. At 10 we kicked her off home. She told me that my letter to Delia from Nunwoman, Leaper and Nunwoman Solicitors had Barbara Wheeler wetting herself yesterday.

Met Jacq for lunch at the Ostlers for a few pints and cheeseburgers. The friendly, neolithic bar~tender, who is deaf as a post, always brings the wrong food and drink. Jacq, for instance, had a brandy and Babycham followed by a Gin Fizz ~ and we only ordered lager.

Tonight: with Dad, Dave and Lynn to Lawn Road. I made a start 'emulsioning' the lounge. Worked until 10:30.

John called to see Mama tonight. He moves to Stranraer in two weeks and starts his new job on September 11.

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Saturday August 21, 1976

Lynne comes at 1 o'clock and the two of us go to Harrogate for a couple of hours where we both buy jeans [£10.95] from 'one of them' denim shops. On the way we called at the Square & Compass at North Rigton for drinks, but we're plagued by about 48,000,000 wasps and make a sudden departure at high speed. Harrogate is unbearable on the best of occasions but in this tremendous heat it's even worse.

Get Christine W a revolting perfume spray from Boots and Lynne and I nearly die laughing after smelling it. Home at about 5. Lynne goes to Jean's for tea.

Chris comes for Sue, Pete and me at 8.30 and we go down to the Hare. See Tony in the main bar and arrange to go out with him on Thursday. Move into the party at 9 o'clock and stay until after midnight. Not the best party I've ever been to, but we managed to laugh at one or two things. Lynne is so unpossessive. Drink lager and gin and tonics, and distinctly remember licking a lot of people. Well, it makes a change from the usual boring conversation. I'm now the World Champion Licker. It's four years of solid training now until Moscow, 1980. Poor Carole came in with Peter but only stayed about an hour. She looked drawn and unhealthy. Her presence quietened me down a good deal. Back to Pine Tops for coffee and a photographic session.

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