Sunday January 9, 1977

1st after Epiphany. Emerge at a late hour yet again but this time to the sweet serenade of Mr Peter Mather. He questions me on the latest intrigues, &c. He tells me that _____are in London for the weekend and that Chris had not so much of a party more of a 'tiny booze up' last night at the Ratcliffe pile. Where was my invitation? _____.

A day at Ty-Onnen. I refuse to help Lynne clean her car and sit with Mr M watching a black and white Jack Hawkins 'classic'. Anything's better than standing out on the drive with a soapy wash leather in one hand and a bucket in the other.

After dinner Peter announces that the film 'Jaws' is showing at the Pickering Empire, or Plaza, or wherever. I must have paid for that bloody shark three times over and kept Robert Shaw in luxury for the rest of his days the amount of times I've seen the film. They both enjoyed it. The bit Pete liked best was paying a mere 45p to see it. A saving of 55p on the Leeds cinemas.

Bed at 1.30 after more television.

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Sunday January 4, 1976

2nd after Christmas. Wake up at about 10.30 with C. __________________________.

In the process of dressing Carole knocked her rings off the bedside cabinet and found them all but for the one I bought her for Christmas. Chris tells us not to panic and that he'll empty the room of all its contents in order to find it. Sue and Pete (who both slept in the bathroom),CD (who was violently sick all over Andrew Ratcliffe's room and made no attempt to clear it up), John, Maria, Carole and I are the only people left by 11.30am and Carole is driven off at high speed by John to the laundrette with the vomit ravaged sheets from CD's bed.

Whilst they're out Dave B rings to say her found Carole's priceless pearl ring in his pocket on his arrival home and tells me 'not to worry about it'. I give a sigh of relief and settle down with the book 'Jaws', which Chris says is completely different from the film.

Carole comes back and goes upstairs immediately to continue the search for the ring, and I'm reading for ten minutes before I realise what she's doing. I go upstairs after her and enter the bedroom. I tell her DB's news and kiss her on the lips. Immediately I can taste cigarette smoke on her breath but she denies point blank that any cigarette has passed her lips for weeks. Whilst she is making this solemn vow I glance over her shoulder to see a cigarette smouldering in an ash tray behind the curtain. We both disolve in fits of laughter and then go back to join the others.

At 12.30 Sue, Pete, CD, Carole and me leave Chris's for home in a snow storm. Carole gives me her red umberella and I use it to scale the north west face of Hawksworth Lane. Home for lunch with Mum, Dad and Uncle H. (He leaves at 10.30 Monday morning).

At 6pm I get a bus to Carole's where we argue like cat and dog until 10 o'clock. At 9.30 we went to the Chevin Inn where we both cheered up a good deal. I tell her we are both too serious to enjoy life (which is not true) and then say I talk a load of rubbish. Home at 11 o'clock for supper with Mum, Dad and Uncle H.

Bed at 1am.

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Thursday January 1, 1976

The New Year. For the past five or six years these so called New Years have always begun with people vomiting all over the place and crawling around on hands and knees moaning things like 'Oh my bloody head's gorn and blown orf' and such like. Why we do it, I fail to see.

After collapsing in the lounge after completing the washing up I sleep until 11 o'clock or something like that. Carole's gone when I eventually come round, and Dave B sits around gloating at my obvious discomfort.

A cooked breakfast only makes matters worse and by noon I'm fighting for my life, as the papers like to say when people are in fact just dying.

Dave L gave me three tickets for 'Jaws' last night, and Carole, Chris and myself are going tonight.

At 1pm John, Lynn, Dave B and I go down to the Commercial for a few drinks, but I stick to tomato juice and coca cola. Dave and Lynn are too frisky to be real, and watching them laughing and joking coupled with the fumes, grime, and the stale smell of the pub only makes me feel worse. I go for a walk round Esholt churchyard to cheer myself up. It's just amazing how many people died in Esholt in 1953. They must have been slowly bored to death by the pageant of the Coronation. It starts to rain at 1.30 and so I go back to join the others in the pub.

Drive home at 3 and it begins to snow. Arrive home all singing 'White Christmas'.

I go straight to bed and wake up at 5.30. The snow is very deep and I worry about Chris and Carole getting up the hill safely. They arrive at 7 and it takes great skill to scale our drive, which would prove a task even for Sir Edmund Hillary.

The film (Jaws) was on in Bradford and was absolutely fantastic. Not over-rated one single bit but for Carole it was too frightening and she was in tears at the end. Home after 11. Chris and Carole came in for a coffee.

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