Monday November 22, 1976

Arrive at the YP and decide I want a half-day. Do all my routine work for 12 and leave for home. Musing on the way out about Mrs Johnson. Evidently, her 'lover' from Salvo's on Friday evening stayed the night at the flat. Good God, isn't she a tart? She never shows any signs of embarrassment after these sexual escapades with most of the men in the Leeds area [most of the sexually deprived and desperate men anyway]. Get home simultaneously with the arrival of our new deep-freeze and spin drier. After lunch Papa spends the afternoon demolishing walls in the garage to make way for the new long needed gadgets.

Finish reading 'Edward VIII' by Lady Donaldson. It was especially moving to read about the lying-in-state and the funeral. I was there and remember seeing the Duchess of Windsor peeping from the behind the net curtains at Buckingham Palace as the Queen left to troop the Colour and pay homage to her uncle.

See TV all evening. 'I, Claudius' is especially good. Mum and Dad go out for a drink and Lynn and I watch a programme dedicated to November 22, 1963 - thirteen years ago today since Kennedy was assassinated. I recall Mum coming into my bedroom and telling John & I of this. I was eight years old. The film of the event was agonising and scenes of weeping people outside the hospital at Dallas brought a lump to my throat. Jackie Onassis can be forgiven for going off the tracks somewhat after the horrific incident. Even the passage of thirteen years does not fade the tragedy of it all.

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Monday June 23, 1975

Scorcher again. Don't feel really tired at the YP and have a great time with Sarah. Kathleen is on holiday and Sarah's the regent in her absence as it were. At lunchtime we go out on the Barclaycard scive. I draw £4 out and borrow £10 off Sarah, then draw £10 out and give her it back. That girl must really fancy me, you know, because how many girls would invest £10 in a boy and come out with the words: 'I'm not bothered when I get it back, so long as I have some before July 7'. Goodness overfloweth, indeed.

After visiting the bank she takes me to the hairdresser, Nicky & Carlo in the Empire Arcade and I actually have my hair cut! Historic occasion indeed. Return to work looking a new man. Both girls there like it, and I must admit, I feel a lot better for it.

Home at teatime to find Uncle Harry reclining on the lawn. It is nice to see him, and since learning of his successful attempt to escape the clutches of the police force he looks pounds better. I sit on the lawn with him, Mum and Dad, and they all approve of my haircut.

At 8 we go to the Menston Arms and argue all night about people like President John Kennedy of the USA, and whether he'll ever be canonised as a saint or not, because somehow I think he will. The first Catholic US president will not go unrecognised, you mark my words.

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