Monday October 13, 1975

Quite busy at work today because Kathleen isn't back until tomorrow and Carol J is away with Brian from the engraving department having a dirty weekend in Blackpool.______.

Her Majesty the Queen returned to London from Balmoral today, and event which coincided with the first sitting of Parliament since the summer recess. John Stonehouse went to the Commons to protest his innocence and was generally ignored by his fellow MPs. So all in all the only person to acknowledge him since his return from Australia is Mary Wilson, wife of beloved Uncle Harold. The old girl must be something of an embarrassment to the Prime Minister at times.

After work I go straight down to Carole's where I find her looking greatly improved. She keeps apologising for something she says she did on Saturday afternoon, but I refuse to accept it because as far as I am concerned she is totally blameless of any misdemeanor. Believe it or not, we sat about on her bed playing Monopoly! It isn't a game I really enjoy, but the invalid seemed to take pleasure in it. Mrs P tried to make me have some tea with them but I flatly refused. I never feel hungry until later on.

Carole is a love. She says she is coming out with me on Wednesday evening because I go south on Thursday. I must bring her a present back from Windsor.

Home at 8.15 and have eggs and bacon. After devouring this I sit about for an hour and go to bed at about 10pm.

-===-

Monday October 6, 1975

A nice autumn day. Work was quite busy, and will be so for about a week because Kathleen is on holiday. Nothing astounding in the news other than Ireland again.

Home at 5.20 as usual, and bump into old Harry Monkman from next door. He asks me about John's party and wants to know whether I heard him banging on the wall at 3am. I say 'no' and he raises his eyes to the heavens and says: "I still haven't got over it." The mean people we meet in life are really too numerous to mention other than to say he (Monkman) is one of the leading "meanies" alive at the moment. An unreasonable old gent.

Today is the fifth anniversary of our living at Pine Tops. Now that Mum and Dad have gone off the idea of a brewery owned pub I think we shall be in a Free House by this time next year. Dad, for one, is becoming increasingly impatient with his job and cannot be expected to do a decent days work whilst feeling the way he does. It is unfair to the police force just as much as it is unfair to him.

Carole rang at 7.30 and I had to laugh at her. She said she had skipped all the way to the phone box wearing her newv woolly mittens. Feeling devilish and wicked she had also attacked one of our innocent feline friends with a half-brick! Her sweetness is so endearing.

Spend a quiet evening. Jump into the bath at 9.20 after the news, and come down for a snack at 10.30. They all drift off to bed and leave me watching a Barbara Stanwyck film. Retire at 12.05am.

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Friday October 3, 1975

Wake at about 7.45 with a terrible hangover. This continues throughout the day and doesn't wear off until long after lunch.

The girls in the office were arguing like Hell and Sarah almost bit Kathleen's head off when K came in at 2.30. I like to keep out of situations like that because you don't stand a chance arguing with four of five of the fair sex.

Go down to the Hare with Carole, Lynn, Dave, John, 'George', Pete M, &c, &c. CD and CB are of course in. Hear from Andy that he and Keith wrecked Keith's car near the Commercial last night. One day they'll be killed and that's no exaggeration.

At 11pm Dave and Lynn surprise me by saying they fancy going to the Cow & Calf, where Lynn's never been before. So Carole, CD, Lynn, Dave and me go up in Dave's car.

We have a great night and do nothing but laugh - especially on the way home over the moor singing 'Chitty Chitty Bang Bang'. The sound of our voices must have echoed throughout Yorkshire on this cold, autumnal evening. CD especially made a terrific noise, and after dropping Carole off at Menston she said she could hear us going all the way to White Cross. Home at 2.30 feeling tired, but most of all hoarse.

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Monday August 25, 1975

Holiday in England, N. Ireland & Wales. Back to the office. Ugh. The fact that it's Bank Holiday Monday makes it worse because the thought of everyone staying in bed until noon whilst I struggled across a deserted town was far from pleasant.

See Sarah and Kathleen and they both agree that I'm a tremendous colour. Work until 1pm and then Kathleen lets me go. I get the 55 bus with Sarah and arrive home at about 2 o'clock. The weather is still quite warm, but I don't sit out in it when I arrive home. I've had enough after 2 weeks in Majorca and 2 full weeks lying around in the sun.

Sue is watching a rotten film starring W.C. Fields, which is cronic. I devour beans on toast, and then see a Marx Brothers film 'Duck Soup' which is hilarious in parts.
Groucho should be knighted in the New Year's Honours list. If Charlie Chaplin can be (knighted), I fail to see why Groucho can't.

No much in the news whilst I've been away. Some nutter saw fit to dig up the Headingley cricket pitch in the middle of the Test Match, which seems a bit of a silly thing to do, and the historic event to beat all other historic events is the re-union of Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton. They're going to re-marry, and at the moment they're carrying on like a pair of 16 year-olds with the first pangs of love!

-==-

Thursday July 31, 1975

Pay day. And a party over at the Central in honour of Alan Brooke and Peter Milburn, who are leaving to join Pennine Radio. The EP won't really be the same without them.

At 5.30 we all went across to the upper room of the Central, where Malcolm Barker and Geoff Hemingway are holding court like Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette.

A small crowd gathers to pay homage to the two who are leaving us, and Geoff Hemingway makes a brilliant speech. Sarah and I nip downstairs to the bar, and I'm sloshed well before 7 o'clock. Kathleen goes at about 7 and I stand with EP reporters. Sarah is deep in conversation with Angela Barnes and Roy Holland and we have little communication until she drags me, like a wailing schoolboy, to the last bus. I profess my undying love for her, as I always do on these occasions, but I don't think she likes the idea.

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Friday July 18, 1975

Wet day. Lounge around in bed until 11.30 because I'm working at the YP tonight. Fridays are horrid at work, but at least I'll save myself a bit of money. Under normal circumstances I spend £3 or £4 on a Friday night.

Have lunch at 12.30 and Mum gets on at John and I about getting innoculated against typhoid, which is spreading like wildfire in Majorca at the moment. Several cases have been reported in Britain recently, but we haven't been notified by our travel agent who should surely warn clients about pestilence & disease. John is terrified at the thought of being 'jabbed', and he wants me to ring Denise first to see if we really do need one. I ring at 2.10 and she isn't in either at Smiths or at home. I'll have to contact her at the weekend.

Sarah rings me at 2.30 to say they've got some booze at work and wants to know whether I'd like to come early to join in. I get to the YP for 3.45. Have a drink with the girls until 5pm, then start work. Quite uneventful really, though Kathleen was cheerful and greatly improved.

Anne Simpson leaves tonight, and at 11pm as I was leaving for my bus I bumped into her and we had a chat. Iv'e never quite liked her, but she thanked me for all I'd done for her, and I modestly replied it wasn't much, at which she replied 'nonsense, you've been a great help'. Good Old Anne! Home on the 11 o'clock 33 bus. Warm night. Get in before 12. See the end of a horror film and leap into bed for 2am.

-==-

Thursday July 17, 1975

Another wet and humid day. Busy at work, though I can say Kathleen's been much more cheerful since her holiday.

Sarah and I went into town at lunchtime and I bought a pair of clogs for £6.99. When I got them home only Lynn seemed to like them, and Mum wasn't very talkative at all really. I don't know what is the matter with her lately, because one day she's a bundle of happiness and others she can be nasty and uncooperative and spiteful. Is it her age perhaps? I always thought that women didn't change, as it were, until they were 45 or 50 or so. However, I'm no authority on it.

Sarah bought a pair of knee-length socks and a pair of plimpsolls. We had a quick one in Whitelocks before returning to the grindstone. A wonderous thing that girl is.

At 8.45 tonight Dad drove me down to the Hare for my appointment with Caroline. I don't think anything about her at all, and was quite repulsed by her when she hooted with laughter tinged with mockery at the fact that I'd failed my driving test twice. Admittedly, she's quite attractive, but beauty is only skin deep. After standing with Caroline for ten minutes I spy Judith R with Kathryn. They stand with us until 10.30 along with Jimmy Elkington and a drunken Jehovah's Witness. Caroline won't let me buy her a drink, and we don't speak. I go back to Judith's for a coffee and chat with her and Kathryn until 1.30. Walk home, and it was quite fine.

-=-

Tuesday July 8, 1975

Kathleen came back to work today. She looked years younger with her new haircut and bronzed body. I only hope her holiday has cheered her up a bit. Sarah goes off on a half-day and so we can't indulge in our usual ale swilling practice.

I go off on a birthday card buying expedition at lunchtime. Denise will be 19 on July 10, and although she has been living in sin with the dirty old branch manager from WH Smith Ltd, Bradford, I do not see that as a reason for ignoring the occasion.
________________.

On the subject of birthdays, June is 19 years old today. Somehow I think she should be older really. Still a teenager, and we haven't been going out for two years! A horrible brat she is.

'George' invited us round to her place at 8 for a few drinks, and John, Lynn, Dave, Sue, Peter and me all indulged. Stayed until after 11, and the little dog made my eyes run, and nose water. Or was it the other way round? George's Mum tried to keep us, but we shook her off, nicely. Home and in bed before 12 after beans on toast..

It's odd how I do not love Christine any more. It just goes to show how immature I am if I can discard someone and cool off completely after only a matter of weeks.

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Wednesday July 2, 1975

A horribly warm day. 77f in Leeds at lunchtime, which is hot for our climate up here.

Another Sarah day today. Dave B rings me at 11.30 to see if I want to go for a drink and I say I'll bring Sarah along too. We leave the office at 1.10 and don't get back until 2.30, but S is regent in K's absence, so who is there to complain?

We have one or two ciders and then walk back to the YP complaining that we, us two, were never meant for work. We were born to lay around all day on a beach in St Tropez or Biarritz - drinking rum from long, tall glasses, full of ice cubes the size of building bricks. Unfortunately however, that life is not to be. Great wealth is not for the likes of peasants 'like wot I am'.

Meanwhile: Back at Pine Tops: Lynn and Dave in the usual Wednesday spirit go down to the off-licence for the traditional apricot wine. The final part of 'The Poisoning of Charles Bravo' was excellent, and the beautiful Mrs Bravo died at the end. However, our drinking, and the TV play was interrupted at 9.30 when MM and Marita came to see me! Haven't seen them since Easter, and considering the time lapse, they didn't really have much to say. He'd had his hair cut.

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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.

-=-

Tuesday June 10, 1975

Still the same old summer sunshine. What is happening? Are we actually going to have one whole week of nice weather? I'll let you know whether we have or not on Thursday.

Home from the YP at my usual hour after informing Kate of my intended day off on Friday. Christine and I are nipping off to Otley on that day, where the pubs are open all the time because of market day. So you'll understand how elated I feel. Pubs open all day and having Christine all to myself!

Saw Queen Victoria die tonight in 'Edward VII'. The series will be hopeless without Annette Crosbie parading about, but I remain a dedicated follower all the same.

Bed at 10.30. Oh, before I go, I think I'll say something about the Royal Household. Why? Well, don't you think it strange that no less than three members of that institution (Royal Household) have died within the short space of two weeks? I do anyway. The first was Lady Margaret Hay, a Woman of the Bedchamber to the Queen since 1947, and one of HM's most closest friends. The second was Lord Plunkett, another pal of the Queen and deputy master of the Household. The third was Admiral Sir Christopher Bonham-Carter, a chief for many years of the Duke of Edinburgh's household. So quite naturally, the surviving members of the Royal Household will be betting on who is next to go.

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Thursday May 15, 1975

It's pay day today, and once again the little man in cashiers seems to have forgotten my extra payment for working nights a couple of weeks ago. Kathleen deals with it and vows to me that next Thursday I will receive the miserable pitance owed to me.

Saw 'Top of the Pops' which was utter rubbish as usual, and you'll never believe this, but I went to bed at 9pm! Nine o'clock no less. If you are astounded you have every right to be because I cannot have been in bed at nine since I was six or maybe seven years-old. It wasn't that I felt particularly tired either, but the television got on my nerves so much I just had to escape. 'The Wonderful World of Jacques Cousteau' or something equally Walt Disneyfied. Aaarrghh! Putrid, nasty BBC programmes are sinking even lower.

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Monday May 12, 1975

It is 38 years tolday since the Queen Mother was crowned Queen Consort of England in Westminster Abbey. The poor old chap around whom the service was centred was taken from us some 23 years ago, but I am sure that the Royal Family will be thinking about him today.

A wet and nasty day really. Stay inside the YP until it is absolutely necessary for me to go out at 4.30 for my bus, and get quite a soaking making my way home.

Nothing of great interest is in the news today. Just the same old Common Market Referendum trash and more propaganda about Mr Wedgwood Benn. One MP said the other day that Mr Benn would be Prime Minister before Christmas, and I don't think anyone could ask for a worse Christmas present. The very thought of Britain's answer to Hitler and Mussolini rolled into one being installed at No 10, Downing Street, is something I really don't want to dwell on.

Kathleen is back tomorrow and that is something else I don't wish to spend a lot of time thinking about, because life is hectic and unnecessarily 'panicky' when she is in the office.

Christine still dominates my thoughts. That girl doesn't know just how much I love her, although she always gives me a beautiful smile and calls me 'biased' when I attempt to talk her out of her infatuation for Gary taking over altogether. Such a tease she is really. However, she is quite aware of the fact that I will never give in. Christine Mary Dacre Braithwaite won't be rid of me until I am dead and buried.

The Royal visit to Japan is just about over and it seems to have been a tremendous success. The Queen's looked lovely all week - fashionable too - and no doubt we can expect a sizeable trade agreement with the Japanese shortly. The monarchy certainly pulls in the needed cash from abroad.

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Thursday May 1, 1975

Almost completely recovered now. I thought I'd be laid low with pneumonia by the end of the week but luckily it won't be so. Pay day again. My wage isn't all that cronic really, and I know I'm always complaining of lack of funds, but if I earned £7,000,000 per week I'd still be moaning and groaning by Wednesday night.

I informed Kathleen today that I want, and indeed will have no matter what, Friday June 13, off. This will mean that I can travel down to Windsor on Friday morning - go out with John, Sheila and even Chris - then go into London early on the Saturday morning for the Trooping the Colour escapades in the Mall. It would mean me having to return home on the Sunday to be back at the YP on the following morning.

Chris goes to Windsor at the very beginning of June until December, and I can't help feeling envious. If Utopia or Paradise really exists I somehow think that Windsor will not be far away.

News items: Lady Sarah Armstrong-Jones is eleven years-old today. Saigon fell to the communists yesterday and is now Ho Chi Minh City or something equally hideous. Princess Anne and Capt Mark Phillips are stranded in the Australian outback after plane trouble. The Queen left Jamaica after the Commonwealth PM's Conference and is now on the way to Japan with the duke for an official visit.

This Princess Anne thing sounds funny. I can just imagine the Royal party stuck there with the sun blazing down. Is wallaby edible I wonder?

Papa is still doing the lounge, and I must admit it looks brilliant.

-==-

Wednesday April 30, 1975

Feel much better today but am not too happy yet about my throat. My nose is clear, but I fear the contamination will creep down to my chest. It always does.

Good day really - Kathleen was off again - she always is lately, and I must admit that the atmosphere is a lot better without her dashing around finding unnecessary jobs for everyone to do. These women will do absolutely anything to get out of taking life at a leisurely pace.

Home at 5.20 to find Mama preparing the lounge for the coming onslaught of dust-sheets and paint cans. After tea I help Dad splash a bit of emulsion around and manage to watch a 'St Trinian's' film and a good documentary about the death of Hitler in between. Hitler died 30 years ago this week.

Whilst I was making busy in the lounge John was busily drinking with Chris and Co in several of Guiseley's ale houses. I rarely miss Wednesdays supping sessions, but today, mainly for financial reasons, I decided it would be wise to do so.

(Christine rang at work to say that Maura isn't joining me for a drink at lunchtime tomorrow. She gave no excuse, and I suppose Christine's been having words with her. I'll say no more about that.)

Before leaping into the bath I talk with Dad about me buying his car! Yes, actually buying a motor vehicle. He says I'll be the first on the list when the times comes for him to sell, and Mum agrees that it would be a good idea. I'm pulling myself together at last. I know I've always let life slip by without even realising - so unlike John - but the time is now ripe for meto begin a new trend.

-=-

Friday April 18, 1975

Last day at the YP for one whole week! All Hell will be released next week when I'm away because Kathleen is off for 3 days too - and so the three remaining will have our work to do. Home at 5 after seeing Clifford Howland on the 33 - a real freak he is.

Prepare for the usual battle for the bathroom. Lynn, John and I do war over possession rights but we're all ready for 8-ish. Sue and Pete decide to go to the Hare too. Get quite merry in the Hare. Lager and Campari - an intoxicating concoction. Poor Christine is out on her lonesome and Gary doesn't roll in until about 10. At chucking out time I see CB going out with David, tears rolling down her face. I attempt to chase after her, but she shakes me off saying she'll ring me tomorrow. I don't suppose she will.

Down to Wikis where Naomi tells John she wants a break for three weeks or so - i.e. she's trying to give him the boot in a cowardly fashion. These women think us men were all born yesterday.

Denny was out tonight but didn't say much._______.Little Sue enjoyed herself and I think that Peter should merge into our company more often. The boy never sees life other than what goes on at 58, Hawksworth Lane.

-==-

Tuesday April 8, 1975

Up at 7.30. Jim gives me my usual lift and when Kathleen comes in I receive permission to toddle off for a half day. I had one owing, so it's all quite legal. Go into town with Sarah and by 'If', the record which takes the Micky out of Telly Savalas's single.

The snow belts down like hell all the way home and I fly up the lane clad only in my little green jacket. I don't see why I should revert to the wearing of winter garments just because the weather doesn't know whether it's coming or going.

Lunch with Mummy, Daddy and Susan (she's still on Easter holiday!).

Write to Christine. Don't ask me what I put. I become possessed and all thoughts are afterwards blanked from my memory. Love is a wonderful thing - especially in Spring time even if it is deep in snow.

You know when I told Christine how I felt about her she replied: 'How can you? You've never even been out with me.' But that's how I am. Worshipping from afar is what I do all the time.

See TV all evening. Part II of 'Edward VII'. Excellent, and the characters are just as I expected. Bed at about 11.30.

-==-

Wednesday April 2, 1975

Feeling much better today. The day flew by, and with Kathleen off (until tomorrow) I wassn't pestered or continually quizzed all the time about my movements.

Nothing spectacular in the news. Nasty Mr Shelepin, of the KGB, went home this afternoon after three or four days of ridiculous publicity. The newspapers went insane over his every move.

The poor Queen is to endure a gruelling state visit to Japan commencing May 7, and a rumpus is going on at the moment about whether or not she'll visit to the Tomb of the Unknown Japanese Warrior. I hope not. After all, the blackguard probably mutilated half the Green Howards with his sabre before some little private put a bullet in his brain. Keep Japan to the Japs and leave our Queen alone. That's what I say.

Christine B rang at lunchtime and I said I'd meet her in the Hare at about 8.30. She said she'd bring Maura with her. I must ask Miss Tobin if she wants to join the party on Saturday night. I'm crying out for folk to fill this 29 seater bus. I only hope and pray that it will be something of a success.

Aaarrghh! I'll only be a teenager now for a further two miserable days. Two days!! God, I'm becoming so old. My days are numbered. My hair is greying and falling out along with half my teeth. Poor, miserable looking sod that I am.

To the Hare, where Jane arrives shortly after me. Revolting, creepy Gillian comes over to us, but I don't egg her on about anything. Christine comes in, and we have a laugh, but unfortunately Gary got in the way. It's about time he went.

-==-

Tuesday March 25, 1975

Busy, but pleasant day at the YP. Kathleen, as usual at times of great stress and panic, lost her sanity and walked around the building cursing everything that moved and screaming on the top of her voice. I managed to calm her down with a packet of cigs and a cup of revolting coffee. My behaviour this morning was reminiscent of Chamberlain's appeasement of Hitler in 1938.

See the Crossman diaries in the Sunday Times again - the final batch. More detail about him and the Queen. In 1966 Crossman had an argument with Lord Porchester (a close friend of the Queen) on the subject of the monarchy. Crossman was highly critical of the institution. Embarrassment for Crossman came several weeks later when he was summoned to the palace on his appointment as Lord President of the Council. The Queen mischievously told him she'd been 'hearing' all about him.

Items in the news: King Feisal of Saudi Arabia was assassinated today by his loony nephew. The revered Prime Minister visited Uslter. The eldest son of the 9th Earl of Carrick plunged himself into matrimony - I know that's not really news at all, but you know what a sense of humour I have. Mr Peart, the Agriculture minister thinks that the dockers are all crackers and wants them to go back to work.

Mama drew her £50 winnings out of the bank this morning. Unaccountable wealth really makes me sick. Christina Onassis herself looks like a pauper in comparison with my venerable mother.

Just noticed that Good Friday coincides with the __________, a latter day John the Baptist. Millions throughout the western world regard her as a God. This world of ours would be a sad place without her love and guidance shining down from the foothills of Pudsey where her priestesses have worshipped her for well over 48 million years.

-==--

Friday March 21, 1975

Lounge in bed until the glorious hour of 10.30. Shear, unadulterated luxury. Bliss indeed. However, it isn't all idleness today. It's work at 5pm - so don't think for one single minute that laziness reigns here at Pine Tops. The first day of Spring - I certainly would not have realised this on my own initiative. Mum conveyed this news to me whilst I hung longingly over my chicken soup and pork cutlets. In fact, it looks about as much like Spring as I look like the Aga Khan. Anyway, where was I? Ah yes, I haven't been all that lazy this morning. I ironed two pairs of trousers and listened to endless LPs and chatted to Miss Braithwaite via the telephone. So all in all I've done a decent days work.

Mess about with P.G Wodehouse and 'The Luck of the Bodkins' after lunch and prepare in general for my visit to the YP. Luckily, it's not going to be a miserable homecoming at 12. I'm meeting Denny outside Wikis at 12.15.

Quite a busy evening. I did manage to snatch a whisky in the Wellesley with Kathleen and Peter Chapman. Nothing startling in the news, and attempt to leave at 12 o'clock. The rain is pounding outside and my taxi is 25 minutes bloody late. I end up sharing one with a female reporter. Arrived at Wikis at some unearthly hour. Denny, thank God, had the sense to go straight in. Uneventful night. Helen is with Graham Pease. John brings Denny and me home - she intends staying the night. Discover Dave on the camp bed - the poor sod came off his brother's bike on the way over - so I camped down on the sofa, and Denny gets my bed.

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