Monday December 24, 1973

Christmas Eve is here at last. Finish filing at work at 11.30 and we all go behind the filing cabinets for a makeshift party - received 2 nice presents. The afternoon is given over to enjoying ourselves, and I get a train at 1.10 out of Leeds.

John and Lynn are watching tv and poor Sue is working all day at the hairdressers. Mum and Dad are shopping until 3.0.

At 7.30 John, Christine W and I go to the Emmotts where Marita, Laura, Chris, Andy, Peter, David and MM all assemble. A boozy evening.Feeling totally pissed. Denny and I go on to Peter Lazenby's party on Park Road, Guiseley. My God, don't ask me what I drank, but the whole evening from midnight onwards is a complete blank to me. Home at 3. Immediately to bed. Sleep until noon on Christmas Day.

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Wednesday December 19, 1973

Saw June at the Benton Park Christmas dance. She didn't say much and seemed disinterested in anything I do or say. Love sick, that's my trouble. June looked lovely. Generally, the whole thing (the dance) fell through. People trying to be things which they aren't. David didn't say much. MM had been for a haircut.  

Lynn went to the Emmotts for the first time - and little Janet Roots managed to get a sherry out of me. John and I were wearing identical jumpers, and all the lower 6th girls had the usual fight on the topical question "who's gonna _____Mig Rhodes first". I now know why Pamela Barlow rang. She's a bloody sex maniac. Talk about throwing yourself at someone! Laura attended in her usual capacity as "Tart of the Year 1973". Ah well, if Liz Taylor and Richard Burton can get back together then June and I still have a chance. God, the thought of it makes my life a lot warmer. She's the only one to give me a purpose to live for. 

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Friday December 14, 1973

Uncle Tony 'caught up' with Mother today. He's 38. Haven't seen him or the family since October. This time of the year tends to be a bad one for Auntie Hilda, who becomes depressed at the thought of spending money at Christmas. At the moment her main worry is Uncle Tony. Will he or will he not lose his job in the current economic crisis? We all know he won't, but Auntie Hilda doesn't. She's never content with life like Mum is. Not at all like sisters really. 

 Chris rings at about 7. Meet at the Emmotts at 9 o'clock. Martin Vere-Bujnowski and little Helen join us, with no Laura for a change. She's gone to a disco with Philip Cartwright. Martin and I discuss the party tomorrow evening. He thinks it'll be an absolute orgy... five of each sex... can you blame the poor boy's mind for thinking that way? All get merry. Leave Emmotts at 11.10. Bus home. 

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Sunday December 9, 1973

2nd in Advent. A completely restful day. Listen to Jimmy Savile all afternoon. Dad gives John and me dirty looks through the window - but how can he expect us to leap up and spend all day pulling up the dead foliage in his herbacious border? The sabbath is for rest, and we certainly obeyed that command.

No one rang in the evening and Lynn, Sue and I watched a Stewart Grainger and Jean Simmonds film 'Footsteps in the Fog' - quite thrilling. John went out with Christine W, and Mum and Dad went to Esholt where they saw Chris, Andy and Laura with the Cartwright Set. Mother thinks_____________. I'd better not tell him. He'd never come again. Bed after 'Up Sunday' at 12.

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Friday December 7, 1973

Busy day at the YP. I made photostat copies of all the family births, marriages and death certificates.

A very pleasant evening. Chris, Peter Mather, Laura and her friend Maggie, Andy, Philip Cartwright and myself all went to the Cow & Calf which is now 'Samantha's' - really beautiful now, but the memories of the old place will always linger. Dance until 2.0. Peter brings me home to the door. It is a cold, rainy night. Christmas is only 3 weeks away - not likely to be a white one either.

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Wednesday December 5, 1973

The train to Leeds is getting hideous. More and more people have to stand, and when petrol rationing comes in it can only get worse. The train will be even worse on Tuesday, when the railworkers go slow. What a state this nation is in.

See in the YP that Sir William Worsley, father of the Duchess of Kent, died at Hovingham last night. The new owner of Hovingham Hall is Sir Marcus Worsley, 5th Baronet, who is 49. I do not pretend to be a keen admirer of the Worsley clan, but the late Sir William was born on April 5, and for that reason alone he deserves a mention.

At 1.0 I meet Chris and Laura at the Jubilee, near the Town Hall, a pleasant half an hour. For lunch I had 2 egg and cress sandwiches.

The honeymoon of Pcss. Anne and Capt. Phillips ended today and they began an official visit to Ecuador in South America. The couple were all bronzed with the sun, and Mark looked quite pleased with himself. I am afraid to say the princess looked somewhat sullen.

Tv boring all evening. Bed 11.0pm.

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Saturday December 1, 1973

Mum gets me up at about 7.30 and I walk into Guiseley at 8 to catch the train to Leeds at about 8.20. A beautiful morning and the sun shines brilliantly, but the snow still refuses to melt.

Mum rings me at the YP at about 11.30 to tell me that John will join me in Leeds at about 12.30. Miss Went lets me go at about 11.50 - and I wander around WH Smiths - Leeds is packed out with Christmas shoppers all in a panic because it is now December. I buy a coat for £13.50.

Very hungry. Arrive home at about 2.0. A nice lunch, then John and I play records until nearly 6 o'clock. See Bruce Forsyth and 'The Generation Game'.

Telephone Chris who says he's going to the Emmotts and then on to Andy's - I say I'll join him. Go to the Emmotts at 8.30 where I sit with Philip Cartwright until 9. Chris and Andy went to Philip's last night and were rendered inoperably drunk - one of Mrs Cartwright's best tables was ruined. Anyway, a crowd gathers and at about 10 o'clock we all go down to Andy's with a pile of bottles ranging from ale to Southern Comfort and brandy. When his parents return Chris, Laura and myself go to a beautiful house near Philip's in the car of a certain Dave, surname unknown, where we remain until 3am. Everyone sits gambling until the cold light of dawn breaks through the Rawdon skies. Me and Chris went into hysterics, and caused damage to the record player, when we came upon a recording of 'Puff the Magic Dragon' - never will I forget the laugh that record gave Chris and myself. I slept on one of those sofas without a back, but with a roll on one end.

At 3am Chris, Andy and myself set off for home. I went to Andy's to collect my jacket, and he tried to persuade me to stay the night. I went on walking home and arrived home at exactly 4.05 - a four mile walk in 65 minutes. This is a remarkable fete for a drunk.

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to be continued

Saturday November 24, 1973

One of the greatest men who ever lived was born 78 years ago today. My Uncle Albert had few faults. In fact, most people who knew him admit that he was perfect. I wish he had lived longer than he did, because when he died in 1969 I was only 14, and hadn't grown up enough to appreciate his character.

John and myself go to Leeds at 11.30 where we buy a complete wardrobe, i.e. trousers, shirts, jumpers and coats. All for £18. Home for lunch. This evening see 'The Generation Game' on tv.

At 8 John and me go to the Yorkshire Rose where we are joined by Andy, Chris, Denny and Laura and Christine W. At 9 we all go across to the Town Hall, where we have the most fantastic times of our lives. Denny and I dance most outrageously. She's like one of the girls in Pan's People or the Young Generation. However, whilst we are having a good time John and Chris are delivered hopelessly drunk. Even Dobby, Susan's boyfriend, a certified alcoholic, is paralytic. Ian Appleyard is on the bar, and he helps with carrying John and Chris outside. Laura, poor thing, doesn't mind the idea of carrying Chris home to Horsforth, but she'll never do it. I am worried about her plight. Denny, the darling, comes home to Pine Tops, where she stays the night as a guest of Lynn and Sue.

Dad called in at the Town Hall, in uniform, to keep an eye on things. He laughed at Andy, who was also a bit gone.

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Friday November 23, 1973

Enjoyed work, but loathed the Emmotts. Chris, Laura, John, Andy and Denny. Sickened off completely. Tomorrow is the third month without June. She never leaves my thoughts. I pray to God that she finds happiness eventually. She is far too ruthless, restless and beautiful to be the family type. I love her.

A very cold day. Bed at 1am.

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Friday November 16, 1973

Tonight I dressed up in a tramps garb and went to a party in Baildon. So did Chris, Andy and Laura. She wore a white evening dress with a strategically placed red rose peeping from the bossom....

Goodbye.

--==--

Saturday November 10, 1973

After tea, Mum, Dad and John ganged up on me and demanded a court of inquiry into the way I am handling my financial affairs. I ignored them, and was probably extremely rude in the process.

At about 8 o'clock Dad took John to Christine W's and me to Rawdon lights. I then walked into Horsforth which took approximately 1 hour. I met Chris and Andy in the Fleece. We then moved on to the Stanhope, then the Brown Cow, the Kings, Grey Horse, Black Bull....

Laura joined us half way round the crawl, but by the time we reached the Grey Horse we were all extremely intoxicated.

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Friday November 9, 1973

John and I go to the Emmotts at 8 where we chat with Ivy about Tuesday's incident with June. Chris and Denny arrive soon after. We also see Kevin Taylor and Bob Thompson. The lovely Laura arrives shortly after C and D. We consume several gallons of ale and pernods before Andy arrives, and by 10.30 we are all staggering, that is to say except Denny who, due to boredom, departed at 10.0 with her ex-fancy man. John and I luckily get a bus. Chris, Andy and Laura have to walk -all the way to Horsforth!

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Friday October 19, 1973

The girl of the week is undoubtedly the delightful Laura. My heart goes out to the darling creature tonight, wherever she may be. And if I know Laura, she could certainly be in some places!

But first, a note of tragedy. The two month liaison of Mr Christopher H. Ratcliffe and Miss Marita Fountain is over. The couple, who met at a party in August, separated after nasty scenes in a high-class bar last Sunday. It's the worst thing to happen since Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor separated last July.

My last day at BP. Totally unmoved.

John and I go to the Emmotts where we are joined by the gang. See Dear Denny, who enjoyed herself tremendously on a four-day official visit to Barcelona. She was with the German boyfriend. Sit with Ivy for half an hour, and then with darling Laura, who is hilariously drunk by 10. She joins Bruno, Chris, Andy and myself for a series of dirty jokes - she comes out with several pearls of her own.

The laugh of the month came when Laura tells us that she has a 19 year-old pet rabbit who lives in the garden and drinks warm whisky on his daily helping of porridge! I die with laughter. Within minutes Marita confirms this tale, adding that the pet is also in the 'Guinness Book of Records'.

Alas, poor Laura, in her drunken state, accepts a lift from two strange men, and we don't see her again.

Marita was unmoved at the fact that Chris had finished with her. Indeed, she gave Chris, myself and Chris Ashton at lift to Andy's house. We leave at 11.10 and I stay the night at Chris's. Listen to Tamla, in bed, on headphones.

--==--

Friday October 12, 1973

At school I speak with Jackie Petit, who tells me she is giving a camp-fire rave-up in a field near the home of Michael Stott this evening. MM is close at hand, and he also sees the fun which is to be had at such a gathering - and especially with Miss Petit. I inform the delectable Jackie that I may pay her a visit after closing hours. She smiles amiably.

Later. After the usual round of telephone calls I arrive at the Fleece half an hour later than everyone else. From 8.30 until 11 I am sandwiched between Miss Christine White and Miss Laura Butchard. Laura is clad only scantily, in one of her very low-cut gowns, but reeking of those intolerable moth-balls. How weird all these evenings are without Dave, poor soul, whi is flogging his guts out in Worcester - and four four years!

Tragedy! At 11 o'clock MM just stands up and announces that he's going home. I ask: 'what about Jackie's party?' He quips: 'Oh, it will all be over by now.' I disagree and tell him so. He gives John and I a lift home.

See a good film starring Stewart Grainger as a brutal wife murderer. Lynn also sees it with me. I am in bed by nearly 2am. Sleep soundly.

--==--

Sunday October 7, 1973

16th after Trinity. Leap out of bed all fresh and alive at 1pm. Have a mediocre breakfast and depart for the bathroom to remove last night's dirt. See in the Sunday Express that the Jews and Arabs are still 'at it'. It's the first time they've had a full scale war since June, 1967. I do hope that the Jews will win. The poor sods have ahad to put up with a lot. What with the Nazis and now the Arabs. Anyway, the Arabs are such hysterical bods - either killing one another or people in airport VIP lounges. Later: see a corny film on the BBC. Read in the Express about the events of October 1963 when Macmillan threw his cards in. It seems that no one knew who to turn to after the demise of Super Mac. The Queen sent for the 14th Earl of Home who jacked in his title in order to form a government in the Commons. He didn't do very well. Later: Chris rings. We decide to go to the Malt Shovel in Menston. John and I nearly walk the whole of the way. Arrive at 8.40. Marita, Chris, Andy, Christine W and Laura are inside. We sat chatting and arguing until 10.45. They all leave with Marita and John and me walk to the White Cross. We got on a bus to Hawksworth Lane and are home for 11.10. Mother had baked the Christmas cake and the house smells heavenly. Little supper. Bed by 11.55. --==--

Saturday October 6, 1973

On October 6, 1970 we moved into Pine Tops. It seems much more than a mere three years and to think how much has happened since then.

Get up at 11 o'clock. Have no breakfast and ring Dave at 12. He is in Yeadon, but Mrs Lawson says he will ring me back when he comes home - she says he seems to have had a good time - and that is all that really matters. But, whether he's having a good time or not I have made up my mind not to go to college and I intend to stick to that decision.

John goes to Leeds shopping and Mum and Dad go to Morrison's. Lynn and I are left at home on our own, Sue being at work.

After having had fish and chips for lunch I walked down to White Cross where I withdraw 80p from my Post Office savings book for tonight's wild fling. The sun became very hot whilst I was walking back up Thorpe Lane and I was sweltered.

A chain of telephone conversations between 5 and 7pm, between Chris, Dave, Andy, etc. In the end it was decided that Dave would collect John, along with Christine W, MM and Linda, and Marita would collect me, Chris and a friend called Laura, who is quite vivacious. We set off to Chris's at 8 o'clock.

It was raining as we arrived in Leeds at 8.45. Before 9.30 we had been turned away from the Pentagon and Cinderella's. But wait for it, Dave and Linda were first into Cinderella's, and were well inside before the rest of us were turned away. Subsequently, Dave and Linda spent the hours 10.30 until 2am quite alone. I'll never forget poor MM's face as Linda disappeared inside with Dave. The remaining mob finished up in Samantha's - not a very nice place, but we all enjoyed it. Actually, when it comes to having a good time I prefer the Cow and Calf. Marita brings me home at 2.45. Dave brings John at 3. Dave comes in and we sit talking and laughing until 4.15.

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