Friday September 14, 1979

_. Grotesque hangover, and close to death. Caught sight of myself in a mirror in the gents at the YP. Frightening. The years of dissipation have taken their toll. I look like a cross between President Carter and Gloria Swanson. I really should quieten down. I could end up like Richard Burton.

I stumbled upon Christine's phone number [mislaid in July]. Rang her at 3. She married on August 18 and is now studying at night school for a degree in administration to enable her to go with Frank to the United States. She turned down my offer to go out for a lunchtime drink, saying Frank would 'hate that sort of thing' and would 'sulk for hours' if he got wind of it. Blimey, it's not as though we'd be committing adultery. However, she seems very happy and full of her old exuberance.

Out to the Central Station with Jacq. Hair of the dog, and all that. We laughed a good deal.

At 6 Ally came over and we went with Susan to Burley-in-W, and loaded her into Dave's car for our journey to Stranraer. We had a couple of drinks in Kirby Lonsdale, and then motored up that long, dark road. Poor Ally was dead to the world. Arrived at Corner House Cottage at 1am. John so pleased to see us, looking thinner. Bed at 3am.

-=-

Wednesday August 15, 1979

_. I went to Horsforth at 4:30 to meet Doreen, an old friend of Delia's and Sarah's godmother. She is insane. We went to a shop to buy flash cubes for Delia's camera. Sarah dreading the prospect of the coming evening with the ghastly Bill North. At 7:30 they rolled in, Barbara Wheeler, Olive, Bill North, &c. Bill became immediately intoxicated and stood reciting a monologue in the style of Hermione Gingold. Poor Barbara almost collapsed in her efforts to stifle hysteria. As we left the sitting room for the dining room and food I suffered the nauseating experience of being groped by Bill, who patted and caressed my buttocks. Obviously he was hideously pissed, but this is no excuse. In my endeavours to escape the old perv's clutches I almost collided with the avocado mousse [like liquidised privet clippings].

Sarah had a phone call from Richard Burke telling her of a party at Parker's wine bar for a couple of lads who are clearing off to Greece. She immediately summoned a taxi and off we went to Leeds.

At Parker's the usual 'Regent brigade' were out in force. I immediately made a bee-line for Jacq and Linda and proceeded to rob them of cigarettes and white wine. I amused them with the tale of my assault. At midnight Sarah went off with Richard, which was naughty of her. Jacq drove me home.

-=-

Sunday April 8, 1979

_. Palm Sunday

Yes, Sarah was carried screaming from the party over David's shoulder at about 6am, leaving me alone with Jacq and the debris of half consumed drinks and piles of cig ends. We ate toast and drank tea due to a coffee shortage and huddled together on a large bean bag. ____________.

I crept in at home at about 9am and devoured boiled eggs and looked at the Sundays [papers]. The Countess of Snowdon is expecting a baby in the autumn. It's her first and she's 37 years old.

At 10 I went to Carol J's flat in Horsforth to hang wallpaper in her bathroom, and did so with great skill and patience until 6:30pm. I felt quite satisfied with the job afterwards. Carol was delighted, so much so that she drove me home [still in pouring rain]. Women and vehicles are a weird combination. Watched TV and ate until 10 and found myself unable to stay awake and staggered off to bed. Completely shagged out.

-=-

Monday April 2, 1979

_. Sarah is in a much better frame of mind. _____________. Queer weather we are having - snow, sunshine, rain, fog, and all in the space of half an hour. This did not deter me from pruning our roses trees this evening with my usual Percy Thrower-like gusto.

Jacq came at 7:30 to collect a dress from Motherdear and stayed until 11:30 watching a play about Martin Luther King on the TV. She seemed OK and we discussed the party next Saturday. I have said no to food, because the sausages and liver pate only gets trampled into the bedspreads and for weeks afterwards one tends to find peanuts and salmon sandwiches in inappropriate places. She agrees and decide to limit the function to just booze, and lots of it.

John phoned. They are coming down from Stranraer on April 11 because Maria is going for a scan to the Hyde Terrace Hospital. John is quite serious when he says it might be twins.

To bed at midnight with The Secret of Chimneys ~ and finish the book before slipping into a coma.

-=-

Tuesday January 16, 1979

Snow goes but we expect more very shortly.

The poor Shah of Iran flew out of Teheran today and the BBC, for one, don't give him a cat in Hell's chance of ever returning. The Shah himself says he's going for a holiday but few people seem to think he will ever set foot in his homeland again. And so, yet another throne has bitten the dust.

The remaining monarchies of the world should form a union. (How about the International Federation of Monarchs, Crowned Heads and Allied Dictators?) When one is in difficulties, like the poor Shah, the others could come out in sympathy and withhold labour until that persecuted monarch is reinstated. Just imagine, hospitals would go unopened, red carpets wouldn't be trodden on, palace balconies would stand empty, &c. The flying pickets could use the Queen's Flight aircraft.



I am very sorry to see that the Shah of Iran has been eliminated. The collapse of any monarchy, no matter how dictatorial, is the worst possible step taken by any nation. I am sure that the stupid, fanatic Iranians will one day regret it.

I've gone and lost the diamond from the ring which Carole bought me at Christmas 1975. It probably went at Lynn's on Saturday or Sunday.

Lynn and Dave came up to Pine Tops tonight. Lynn has had a couple of days off with her 'funny tummy'. She did look pale and ghastly. So did David. I'm sure he works too hard. He phoned Jacq today because she's going to Burley for tea tomorrow. No doubt a Beasley's sherry night will follow.

Peter N came up at 8 and we played cards (all except Dad). Hit the sheets at 1:02am.

-=-

Wednesday December 20, 1978

Feel better, but still snuffling. I phoned Jacq at 12 and told her I couldn't meet her today. She wished me a happy Christmas, and I did likewise to her. I received a Christmas card from her this morning ~ "To Michael, Love, Jacq".

At lunchtime Mum said it was quite unfair that she couldn't have a "works Christmas party" because as a mere humble housewife she misses out on the lavish affairs provided for office workers. Enough said. We grabbed a couple of bottles of wine, and summoned Susan from upstairs, and sat around the dining table to have a celebratory glass.

Sarah phoned at 1pm. They now want to go to Bibi's instead of Da Mario's (on the Headrow, Leeds) and that they want to call in at the Regent at Chapel Allerton. You know what this means? They are going to bugger off with boyfriends leaving me in the lurch. Ah well, who cares?

Sarah doesn't want to linger in town (Leeds). She is frightened that the IRA is going to put an incendiary device under her chair, or pizza, &c. OK, the terrorists have threatened to target northern cities but I don't see the point in worrying unduly about it. Fretting isn't going to halt the IRA.

-=-

Tuesday December 19, 1978

Susan has kindly given me her ruddy cold. I didn't wake up until 9 o'clock when I could hear Mum downstairs on the phone telling Lynn of John & Maria's news.

A deep fog lay outside and I announced that I did not intend going into work today. I rarely miss the YP these days and a day at home can do nothing but good in these frightful weather conditions.

Phoned Eileen and informed her of my loss. Or is it her loss? Never mind, any way.

Gradually throughout the day my condition worsened and I began sneezing, coughing and choking. The little treasure upstairs (Sue) is responsible for my decline.

Jacq phoned. She didn't know I was at home. She wanted to speak to Mum but we had a chat all the same. I told I would take her some of her personal effects tomorrow, but if I'm still grovelling in my bedridden stupor, she will have to wait until after the Yuletide festivities. She told me Trixie had collected my signet ring and that it will cost me £29.  _____________.

We have done little but discuss John & Maria's news all day. She has a doctor's appointment on Wednesday when she will discover the date of the expected delivery. It will no doubt clash with my Ibiza holiday. Susan is 20 on July 21, and it's Maria's 21st (birthday) on July 26.

I love babies and children. John is thrilled. __________.

Bed wrapped up at 11:20 with a couple of paracetamol and cup of hot lemonade.

-=-

Friday October 6, 1978

Woke up with a really bad head at 7:30. I annoy Sue because I refuse to be enthusiastic first thing on a morning. After all, I didn't actually climb into my bed until 4am, and that came after gulping down more plonk with Jim & Margaret. It's Margaret's birthday on Tuesday ~ another excuse for a party.

Work was like Hell on earth. My eyes took on a scarlet hue and a pale, revolting complexion took over and occupied my face. However, at 1pm Sarah, Carol J, Eileen and I went across to Parker's. It was hideous. I simply could not drink and felt quite faint.

Eileen was like a stuffed osprey in the natural history section of the British Museum, or wherever they store the stuffed, glassy eyed birds. Sarah met an old flame and proceeded to chat him up. I could take no more and wandered outside at 2 and sat on a wall to wait for them. All too ridiculous for words.

Jacq phoned this afternoon and asked: "Is this Let's Be Nasty to Jacq Week?" __________________________________.

After tea Auntie Mabel, Marlene, Frank. Mark & Debbie came bringing the cine film of the wedding. It's marvellous and well worth seeing. I was too tired to be at my best with relatives. Bed at 11:30.

Lynn, Dave, Sue and Pete set off late to Alison's to be kitted out with bridesmaid dresses, &c for the forthcoming marital celebrations. They're due back late tomorrow.

-=-

Saturday September 23, 1978

Sun rises 06:48 sun sets 18:58

Not too happy today. Could have had a good fight with anyone who cared to try it on. Lying in my bed this morning I decided to go to this so~called fancy dress party as a Harewood House Bird Garden attendant, with one of Delia's stuffed birds stitched to my left shoulder. Ingenious, eh? I spent a couple of hours busily sewing Eric (the little Tit) onto an old white t-shirt.

Susie and Peter took me to Leeds at 8:30 and we joined Jacq and Hayden at Len's Bar, where a few other fancy~dress goers were gathered. I could see a couple of French maids, the odd clown and a very poor imitation of Queen Victoria.

Eric the Blue Tit created a sensation. I was a bit cool with Jacq (who was dressed in a Pontypool rugby shirt and footless tights masquerading as a punk rocker) and found her constant chatter with Milky Bar Kid Haydn (yes, it's spelt the same way as the famed composer) somewhat irritating.

Sue and Pete left for a disco at 10 and Jacq, the Milky Bar Kid and a female Mexican Bandit and I left to get a taxi to the Railway Station. What seems like hours of hilarity followed. We didn't get to the party until after midnight. We laid on an hours free entertainment for tired British Rail passengers, performing a circus act upon a luggage trolley and giving an adequate rendering of "Singin' in the Rain".

Stanmoor Drive was our destination and a bemused taxi driver found it quite easily. We were met by the hostess (the French Maid) but to our horror the booze was already running dry and our couple of bottles of cider looked pathetic.

Jacq did a good deal of scrounging and we knocked back sherry, red wine, and home brewed champagne. Naturally, at about 4am I brought it all back up on some unfortunate cabbage patch on Stanmoor Drive, Burley, Leeds. To my surprise Carol J and Marilyn were in the throng, but they left early to go to another orgy in Horsforth. Marilyn drank my cheap cider and insisted on prodding Eric (the tit) before leaving. I must say I was the most original character in fancy dress. However, I switched from being a Harewood Bird Garden operative to being the Bird Man of Alcatraz.

Jacq and I were among the last to leave and we walked to Guiseley arriving at 7:30am. Jacq was fed up and exhausted on the journey and at one point was reduced to tears.

-=-

Sunday July 30, 1978

10th after Trinity

After breakfast we all sped off to Lawn Road for a days work. Jacq was on her hands and knees scrubbing at the staircase. It poured with rain all day and only relented when we were ready to come home at about 7.

The four of us (Lynn, Dave, Jacq and me) crammed ourselves into the Spitfire and had a hilarious drive home over the moor. Lynn was clinging on for dear life.

Back at Pine Tops John, Maria and JPH were paying a visit. JPH is no longer a baby - he's a real little boy - with sturdy legs and flowing hair. He seems to have discovered a temper though. At one point when Maria wouldn't let him play with Susan's sunglasses he exclaimed: "Shit, then!" A deadly silence followed broken only by me giggling.

-=-

Friday April 28, 1978

Met Jacq at the Ostlers at lunchtime and had a couple of pints of shandy. _____. Once again I am just about destitute. A £5 note graces my pocket with no signs of any more booty getting therein before the next pay day. However, Jacq does have £5 of mine towards my 'Shirt Fund'. We'll see how it goes, anyway.

I worked until 5, got the train home, and then set out again for Leeds at 6:30 to meet Jacq! So stupid leaving Leeds in the first place.

We met at 7:30 and went to the Odeon to see 'Close Encounters of the Third Kind' which is an exquisite film. Sarah and John Mac saw it on Wednesday and Sarah was so impressed she slept through the whole showing. I'd say it's one of the best films I've ever seen. Jacq was weeping. The film proved just too much for her.

Close Encounters ....

At 11 we were thrust out into the bustling streets of Leeds to discover no public transport of any kind. Hundreds of thousands of bingo playing OAPs were openly throwing themselves beneath the wheels of passing vehicles in the chaos and horror that followed.

I took Jacq back to the YWCA and set out on the long road home on foot. On Wellington Street I teamed up with an old boy from Yeadon and we walked along discussing trade unions, Northern Ireland and the French Revolution. In fact we walked for ten miles and only managed to get a lift when we were at Rawdon Crematorium. We were picked up by three lads whom I recognised from various pubs. They were pissed up. The driver couldn't find his gears, and when I commented on this he told me it was a stolen car and he hadn't quite got the hang of it yet. I believed him too. Typical isn't it, that I should go out on a Saturday night with my best girl to the cinema and end up being the brains behind the greatest armed robbery without even trying?

I went to bed with a glass of lager and sat rubbing hand cream all over my feet. Oh, it was bliss.

-=-

Monday February 20, 1978

Phone calls from Carole and Jacq. I'll deal with them in alphabetical order. Carole says she's not feeling too well and has headaches. She is 'dis-engaged' from Peter Fogarty ~ and it's over once and for all. She is going back to hospital. God Bless her.

Jacq phoned. She's pleased I'm able to go to Gina's wedding. I tell her a letter is in the post. She has managed to get an application form for Ladbroke's. She will be staying at a Youth Hostel in Hanover Square, Leeds, until she can lay claim to a flat. We joked about coming to live in the centre of Leeds when the Ripper is running free, but she says things can't be any worse than in London.

Walter Sickert.

On Feb 7 I had a chat with Speed about the original Jack the Ripper and today Mum says that a programme on the BBC has said very much the same: i.e that the Duke of Clarence married a prostitute and had a daughter, who married (Walter) Sickert, the painter, and that the 'ladies' who knew of this liaison and child were 'done away with' by the 'bloody, hand-shaking Freemasons'. I really must have a word with Speed tomorrow and see what he actually knows. According to Mum Queen Victoria's physician had the poor 'Duchess of Clarence' shut away for life, and that he too was in on the murders. This of course implicates the dear, old Queen-Empress.

Nothing much else. It's diabolically cold. The south of England is having an Ice Age and we're not much better off up here. Older people walk around saying 'Oh, it's just like 1947' and younger ones say 'Oh, it's just like 1963'. All quite boring. Sheep are being buried alive. Edith's son, Kenneth, is buried in the drifts at Newton Abbot.

See TV again. 'Jeremiah Johnson' starring Robert Redford, &c. Dame Marie Rambert is 90 today.

-=-

Tuesday September 13, 1977

Jacqui.

Jacqui phoned today and said she and Joy are coming up on September 23 for the weekend. They are staying at a flat in Leeds and she suggests we go out for a couple of nights on the town. I say it's a great idea and we had a pleasant chat about it. However, John (Grady) phoned from Rossendale this evening and said next weekend wouldn't be suitable for our visit to Lancashire, and could we make it the weekend after instead? All would have been fine but what about Jacqui coming from deepest Muswell Hill? John is undeterred and says she's only after my Hylda Baker body. We laughed. I think of Dave G. He'll never be able to get Sept 17 off. Oh God, I'm fed up with all this muddled arranging. John also said Noel would be free to join us on Sept 24 because he's going away with his fiance next weekend. We'll sort something out and I'll contact Jacqui tomorrow.

Tonight I sat and worked out the number of people descended from my grandparents John Wilson and Levinyer Wood. You may think it a silly thing to do but I'm interested. They have 35 descendants, 17 of them male; 18 female. They are all living too. They range from 58 years to one week old. I was the eighth grandchild and fifteenth descendant, and sixth grandson. Only 10 of the descendants bear the name Wilson today. The other 25 are Harwoods, Myers, Gadsbys, Williams, &c. They don't have as many descendants as King Edward III, but they haven't had the amount of time he's had. A proper little statistician aren't I?

Retired to bed at midnight.

-=-