Monday March 29, 1976

Nothing in the news other than the boring details of the sleeping habits of James Callaghan. I'm sure the British public takes great delight in reading about what Mr Callaghan eats for breakfast, how much sugar he puts in his tea, and how long Audrey (his wife) has been on the pill. But seriously, the PM electioneering business is getting on my nerves.

Isn't the 'Race for Downing Street' drama getting exciting? Michael Foot, Denis Healey, Norman St John Stevas, Lord Lucan, Enoch Powell and the Everley Brothers are all 'tipped for the top' and by next Monday it will be all be over and done with. The bloody sooner the better, that's what I say.

A piece in the Daily Mail is fun. Roddy Llewellyn attended a party the other night clad in a t-shirt with the slogan 'Roddy for PM' - and it isn't refering to the Prime Minister either!

Dash home to see the first in a smashing new TV series called 'Coronation Street'. I'm sure it will be a great success and run for years. Some of the characters are thrilling. Alfred Hitchcock thoroughly deserves a pat on the back this time.

See on the 9 o'clock news that the government is having talks with France about scrapping Concorde. This white elephant has been on the go for too long now - about a month I think.

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Tuesday June 17, 1975

Bright, but showery day. The Indian Summer I thought we may be having is only a flight of fancy after all.

Doing the obits at the YP I see that Sir Richard Colville, press secretary to the Queen from the year dot until 1968, died on Saturday. (Lady) Margaret Hay, Lord Plunket, Admiral Sir C. Bonham-Carter, and now Sir Richard. As I keep saying, the few surviving members of the Royal Household will be drawing lots to see who's next. It's becoming quite serious really.

It's been a bloody horror taking those pills. Old Ludlow is obviously trying to finish me off by choking me to death with them in order to save me from the path of utter misery and painful illnesses which lie ahead. But seriously, they're about the size of a standard dustbin lid and they're a repulsive chocolate colour. I feel quite sick just looking at them.

Received a note from Christine. Written across the back of the envelope were the words: 'prepare yourself for a serious letter', which quite worried me at first, because I thought she might have done something foolishly hideous like stick her head in the gas oven or something. The mood she's been in lately, it wouldn't surprise me at all. She even mentioned the idea of emigrating to New Zealand!

At 7.30 John mentioned the Morris Dancers being at the Hare tonight. He rounded up Sue and Peter, who wanted to see what Morris Dancers were actually like - never having had the experience before. I also quite fancied the idea. However, on our arrival at the Hare we found the door bolted and a CLOSED sign on the front door. The Tetley strike's closed down the Hare! John was shattered. The four of us went to the White Cross, wherethe beer was awful, but we had a laugh sitting on the wall outside. Sue and Pete really do get on so well.

Back at home at 8.30 to see 'Edward VII' on ITV again. No Annette Crosbie but it was good all the same. Saw the 10 o'clock news and the ever increasingly enthralling Lucan scandal. Somehow I think something fishy is goin on with the Lucan business, but what exactly I don't know. Bed at 11 o'clock.

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Monday June 16, 1975

The numbness in my face is going off slightly, but I ring and make an appointment with old (Dr) Ludlow all the same. I might as well get my moneys worth out of the National Health Service.

Nothing of great interest in the news other than the re-opening of the sensational Lucan Case in London. I doubt very much whether any of us will ever hear of the Earl (of Lucan) again, and so it's an open and shut case, as it were.

Last Friday's Daily Mail had a piece about the Prince of Wales and Lady Jane Wellesley again. The will insist on linking the poor prince romantically with that ____ Radio Times researcher, who disgraces the very name of the august Iron Duke. If he, the prince that is, ever makes Lady J his princess I will take off all my clothes and parade around the garden in a nude form as a sign of protest. I'm not joking either.

Go see old Ludlow at 5.20. He sticks a massive metal instrument up my nose and peers up it and gives the occasional grunt. He then gives me a large jar of brown pills - quite the biggest things I've ever seen - and a few capsules to inhale. Hate going to the doctors. But the numbness was quite disturbing really. At work Sarah laughed when I said I probably had only six months left to live. I know it'sa terrible thing to say. I'm quite tempting fate in saying things like that, but one should always look non the funny side of life, and even more so the funny side of death.

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Monday November 18, 1974

Uneventful day really. At the YP nothing of tremendous import happens other than the reconcilliation in the marriage of Michael and Carol Johnson. However, if you want my opinion, the rot has already set in and the cancerous growth will eat away at the relationship. Once the seeds of destruction are sown very little can be done to prevent germination. Sarah, Carol and I bet on the mysterious Earl of Lucan. Sarah and I say he is now dead, but Carol says he's alive. On Christmas Eve, going by information received from now until then, 10p each is at stake between the three of us. The police aren't mad. If His Lordship is alive and on the run in Britain he deserves to get away with it, after all this time.

See a film on the TV tonight 'Whatever Happened to Aunt Alice' which doesn't attempt to be realistic at all. Quite frightening though. Bed at 11.30 after hearing strange noises coming from the direction of the garden. I think it was Mrs Smith looking for poor Ricki, who is stone deaf. (Ricki is a 11 year-old Spaniel dog).
Have I told you already what Carol Smith has been saying to Dave Baker when she rings him every night?

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Friday November 8, 1974

Someone from the EP newsdesk came over this morning asking what we know about Lady Lucan. I filled in the details. She is of course the Countess of Lucan. 'But is she Lady Lucan or Countess of Lucan?' he asks. I told him to start with Countess and drop to Lady in the second par. It seems that the Lucan nanny has been found murdered this morning and the countess herself is critically ill. The police are looking for the earl 'who cannot be contacted'. You can bet your bottom dollar that His Lordship has done away with the nanny and then attempted to kill her Ladyship. We'll have to wait and see.

Lord Lucan.

To the Hare & Hounds and then Wikis in the evening with Dave Lawson amongst the usual set. It's the first time Dave's been to our Friday night spot, and I can't say he didn't enjoy it because he did. I drank guinness for most the night and was sick twice. John went home alone quite early without giving any explanation for this anti-social action. Dave brought me home at 1.30 and we sat in the lounge discussing our childhood escapades together and laughing ourselves silly. Bed at 2.30.










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