Saturday January 29, 1977

Emerge (from my bed) at 11 or so and hear that Lynn and Lynne are going shopping together to Bradford this afternoon which is a relief because NEVER AGAIN will I go shopping with Miss Mather. Our shopping excursion the Saturday before Christmas was one of the most nauseating experiences I have ever had. I'm not joking either. She goes down to Burley-in-W (Lynne that is) to see Stephanie Ferguson about sharing her country residence and comes back saying the rental for the room is £7 plus food and half the bills. Not bad because she forks out £7 already in petrol each week.

Lynn in her dungarees.

Lynn and Lynne return from Bradford at 5 o'clock with a pair of dungarees each. _______. We go to to the Hare at 9 o'clock after collecting John and Maria from Molly & Jim's. Chris, Pete M, Lynne, Lynn, Dave B, Sue, Peter N, Christine D, Graham (Airey), CB (with Rick Marshall !!). Quite a good evening really, especially when Chris gave me the £5 he'd borrowed and which I'd quite forgotten about. Stay at the Hare until 11 and then we take John & Maria back to Molly & Jim's where we remain until 3.15am talking with Molly. She went into great detail about an Edward G. Robinson film that had just finished on the telly. I think she's tremendous and sit enthralled, but by 2.45 John and Lynne were asleep. Only Maria and I survived.

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Friday January 28, 1977

Meet Miss Denise Akroyd outside the YP at 1pm and we go over to the Central and meet Marita who buys us both a pint of lager in honour of her twenty second birthday tomorrow. D and I sit until 2.30 and discuss a few controversial topics including Mr_________.She makes it all sound like Wuthering Heights. A good girl. We plan to have an orgy at her place on February 11.

Back to the YP. Ring Lynne and connect her to Stephanie Ferguson so she can enquire about the Burley-in-Wharfedale residence. Lynne is cheesed off buggering about between Thornton-le-Dale & Roundhay. Quite understandable I think.

Meanwhile: 8 o'clock,  the two of us head to the (Horsforth) Leisure Centre where we attempt to watch the squash finals. Sarah and Peter (Baker) are in foul moods, and after battling though dinner of yet another chicken leg and frozen peas I'd had just about enough. Sarah sobbing all over the dinner table didn't do much to improve the atmosphere. Lynne and I cleared off as soon as it was decently possible to Oakwood Hall, where another 'mortuary atmosphere' prevailed. Peter & Dave Lazenby, Miss Akroyd and Michelle are romping around to old Showaddywaddy singles, &c. Need I say more?

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Monday January 24, 1977

Bloody fog now. If it's not one thing, it's another. Down to the YP with Jim Rawnsley. Work was hellish. At lunch I went to the Register Office and got a form to send off to Worthing for my grandmother's birth certificate. She was born at Angmering actually - which is near Bognor.

Keith Brown came up at 7.30 to see if I fancy going to Sweden for the weekend on February 18. He mentioned it in the pub a few weeks ago but I haven't given it much thought since. Very tempting it is too. Mum says the trip will cost me £50 (the fare is £16.26 excluding food, drink, and pleasure), but I don't think it can cost as much as she thinks. I know it may seem extravagant after booking a holiday but I can hardly resist.

Lynne comes this evening and within minutes she's talked me out of this Scandinavian extravaganza. People all round me have 'common sense' - why? Am I such an imbecile? Is Michael Rhodes really off his rocker? These questions may never be answered, but they're worth thinking about. Down to the Hare for a couple. Sit with Judith and Kathryn. J looks delectable. She's more and more attractive.

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Sunday January 23, 1977

3rd after Epiphany. Wake up at a late hour once again and Peter plays, loudly, an LP of military marches on his stereo. The three of us discuss Peter's bowels, &c. He tells us that his grandmother died at 4.30 this morning. I am embarrassed. What can I say? Should I dress in a black pullover and sing lamentations of mourning? Or do I ignore the situation? Mr Mather showed no emotion, and the whole family looked happier than usual. They seem to think that the old girl is better off out of it. At 80 she's had a good innings anyway.

In bed at Ty-Onnen

After a ridiculously late breakfast Peter, Chris, Lynne and I go to a remote forest (Dalby?) which seems miles away, and where Peter attempts to feed a bunch (or whatever the collective noun is) of ducks, over-fed ones too. To be honest, they didn't touch a crumb which was a bit 'off'' really because I expected more from them after we'd trailed half way across North Yorkshire just to see them.

Chris Ratcliffe, the Horsforth banker.

Back to Ty-Onnen for dinner and then on to Pickering cinema to see 'Josie Wales'. Yes, I've seen this one before too. Lynne stayed at home complaining of a headache and saying she was going to brush up on her Spanish. Christopher decided to return home tonight and I decided to accompany him. Fog. Back at Pine Tops for 12.30. Have a letter from Uncle Harry with details of his mother's birth-place &c, and details of the Upton family. Uncle H is brilliant.

Saturday January 22, 1977

Queen Victoria's big day again (she died on this day in 1901). Don't get out of bed until afternoon, and after 'breakfast' Mr & Mrs Mather go off in the direction of Scalebor Park to visit Mr M's mother, who is dying. Mrs Leah Virginia Mather (formerly Lee, born July 19, 1895), I think. (Just for genealogical purposes). Lynne and I look at a map of Sussex and find Angmering (where my grandmother is said to have been born). The place is about 3 miles from Arundel Castle, home of Uncle Miles. You never know, I might be the rightful Earl Marshal of England.

Peter: 'spot of bowel bother'.

At4 o'clock we go shopping to Scarborough . Not much really, but it satisfied Lynne at least. I loathe going round shops with females. Anything but that.

Mr & Mrs M get home at 7.30 to say Grandmama is on her last legs. We have chicken for dinner and then hang around until 10.30 waiting for Lynne to ready herself. Peter, Chris, Lynne and I go to the Bali Hai (Tiffany's) at Scarborough, which is nauseating. It's like a musical childrens' playground. Lynne complained the other week about the Penthouse being 'rough' but this place is far worse. Drank Pernod. Back to Ty-Onnen by 2.30. Completely shagged out. Peter had a spot of bowel bother and almost gassed Christopher to death.

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Friday January 21, 1977

It's just about a year since John & Maria announced that they were expecting the arrival of a new addition to the family. It seems longer, somehow. Did my brother ever live here with us? Did I ever share a bedroom with him? These things seem deep in the past, and I cannot imagine him without Maria or baby JPH.

Ruth Upton, later Rhodes.

Home at 5. Uncle H is at the tea table. Discuss his mother and the Upton family. (Refer to the family papers, no room to discuss them here). He is slightly pissed, and at 6.30 he goes with Mum & Dad down to see John & Maria and the poor baby. Measles at 4 months old seems a little odd to me.

Down at the Hare: Lynne, John, Maria, Harry, Dad, Sue, Peter N, Lynn, Denise, Michelle, Tony, Chris, Pete M, &c. Pay Denise our £10 deposits (£70 in all) and all is nicely arranged now. I'm miserable when, at 11 o'clock, all the mob, including Carole and Naomi too, move on to Oakwood Hall, whilst Lynne and I had to drive to Thornton-le-Dale and miss all the fun and excitement. Had a serious talk on the journey. Lynne talks about moving back over here. I remind her of Stephanie Ferguson's flat in Burley-in-Wharfedale. I enjoy getting things off my chest like that. Like what? At Ty-Onnen we swill Martini with Karl and a pal of his. Bed at 4.30 and sit reading one of Peter's Enid Blyton books. Ugh!

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Wednesday January 19, 1977

More sweet dreams until 11.30 this morning. Dad brought me a drink in bed along with the radio before disappearing down to John & Maria's with Molly Macdonald to see JPH who's got a slight chill - poor bairn.

Nora Rhodes

Give Miss Akroyd a ring and tell her to go ahead booking the Hotel Pacific for July 10-July 24. I'm going to miss Sue's 18th birthday party, but it can't be helped. I shall just have to give her an extra large birthday present. Denise tells me she's having her 21st birthday party on July 9. Great stuff, eh? Also ring Lynne to tell her of the holiday details. She says she's going to Tenerife with a Miss Robinson from Harrogate, which I think is a good thing. If we're still going out together in July I will eat my own knee-cap but I wish a good holiday all the same.After lunch I go down to the Register Office in Guiseley and obtain a copy of Mum's birth certificate (Pudsey, January 2, 1935). Don't manage to get my Grandad and Grandma Wilson's marriage certificate because I don't know the name of the church. I went to the 'Stable Door' shop at White Cross and bought another Victorian-style print for Mum and Dad (birthday present).

Ring Auntie Mabel. Discover he parents married at St Paul's (church) Stanningley. She also related to me several tales of her maternal grandparents, who are buried at Pudsey cemetery. I say I'll be over to rumage in the cemetery shortly. She agrees to join me in  my macabre search.

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Monday January 17, 1977

Did you realise that the author of this diary was - or is - an out and out coward? Just nod your head if this notion has crossed your mind at some stage or other in the past four years. Good.

At work today I was in a terrible state. At death's door. Runny nose, sore throat, wet eyes, sneezing bouts, the bloody lot, and on top of all this I wanted to ring Lynne to tell her that I do not want to go out with her anymore. Awful eh? I even took a couple of 10p pieces and nipped down to a public phone downstairs (at the YP) but when Lynne answered I just dried up and made polite conversation. At 12.30 Sarah gave me the dispensation to go home - the sweet thing - and by 2.30pm I was tucked up in my bed with something hot. Slept until 6.30 and then went down and ate a plate full of stew.

Hotel Pacific, San Antonio, Ibiza.

 I contacted Denise today. We cannot get in at the Hotel March (in San Antonio) with Club 18-30, but she's reserved seven places at the Hotel Pacific. Later tonight I rang Chris and Dave G, and then Glenn rang me. Chris mentions the Riviera but tomorrow I'll get him fully on our side. Tony rings to say he has a lousy cold. Lynne came at 8.30 and stayed until about 10. She can be very sweet and nice but I think _____.I have a fear about finishing with anyone after the 'Miss Phillips incident'. Don't I get myself into some messes? -==-

Friday January 14, 1977

Up at 6.30 this morning shoveling snow from the drive. Didn't get to the YP until 10. I worked through lunch to make up for it. Bloody awful day at the YP. Actually, I don't feel all that bright. Must be post-New Year Blues. The Earl of Avon died at 11.11am -spend much of the day sorting his files. His son, Lord Eden, inherits the title. Good Old Sir Antony. He became Prime Minister on the very day I was born - he succeeded Churchill who resigned on April 5 - Sir Antony was appointed Prime Minister on April 6, 1955.

Lynne finally went home at 3pm today following endless hours of toil and struggle with Dad who ended up towing her all over Guiseley. I argue with the family tonight about the way I'm treating Lynne. Dad thinks I'm making the same mistake I made with Carole. Mum dislikes me taking out 'other women' whilst associating with Lynne. Can she mean CB? Good God am I engaged? Do I owe my total allegience to Miss Mather? I think not.Tonight I got a bus to the Hare with Naomi. Meet Carole, Chris, Pete M, Miss Dibb and Graham [Airey]. We go up to Oakwood Hall at 11. Quite a good laugh really. Miss Phillips is a cheerful soul lately. Her new found freedom must actually be doing her some good. I danced with Naomi when I actually did dance, and don't have much to do with Carole at all. I bought her a drink in the pub. Home at 2am in yet more heavy snow. They marvel at my fete of snow shoveling, still visible after all these hours.

Thursday December 16, 1976

Snow and shit. Mum had her Christmas dinner at her work today and so when, at 6.30pm, she hadn't arrived home to make the tea I began frying sausages and boiling baked beans. Maria rings to say she is holding Mama hostage at a secret address and she will only be released if I pay up £6m in cash. The only thing I can think of is the IMF. Will they provide the necessary cash to free the old lady?

Lynne comes up at 7 o'clock and after sampling my cooking we go down to the Hare & Hounds. We meet Jean [Holmes] and that dumb friend of hers along with a couple of young police constables. They leave at 9.45. I do like Jean, a sweet almost desirable being.

Oh God! I've made an error. An error indeed. Lynne and I having passed a pleasant evening at the pub, which went without a hitch. Miss Phillips was in with Miss [Naomi] Downing and Lynne was a bit peeved that Carole completely ignored her. But to get back to my nasty error. You know I don't embarrass easily, don't you? Yes, well I'm embarrassed, red in the face and shitting myself at the story I'm about to relate. On the way home from this pleasant evening I accidentally referred to Miss Mather as "Carole". I was horror-struck. Lynne said: "For Christ sake, she's been on your mind all night," and I replied "yes, I'm aware of that". Haunted - and for what reason? Bed at 11 with this embarrassing thing on my mind. SHIT!

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Friday November 19, 1976

A big piss-up tonight. Go with Lynne to the Leisure Centre [Horsforth] at 8.30 and stand with Sarah whilst Peter [Baker] plays squash down below. Quite a mob congregates herein. Mrs Johnson, Marilyn & Beverley Wheeler, Alan, an anti-monarchist with an effeminate mouth called David, who gets into the affections of Mrs J.

We all go off to Salvo's in Headingley for a pizzas, &c. Everyone is pissed and we make one hell of a racket in the restaurant which isn't on at all really, is it? Sarah becomes quite moronic and insensible. I scream like a mad thing at the effeminately mouthed David about the role of the Sovereign in current affairs. He says she's powerless, and I say 'but Ah yes, by her presence she prevents others from obtaining great power.' In between mouthfuls of pizza I find time to throw chunks of Walter Bagehot at him [i.e. that the monarchy is a 'mellowing influence on a dark and restless age'].

At one o'clock Lynne and I go back to Carol and Marilyn's flat. After an incident with the car door we arrive to find Marilyn with eight men in her sitting room holding court like Marie Antoinette. Mrs J is tucked up in bed with the anti-monarchist, effeminately-mouthed David. We leave after a glass of home-made cider and I receive abuse from Lynne about dragging her off to such a den of iniquity. Tut Tut Michael.

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Thursday November 18, 1976

I feel a great sense of boredom hanging over me. No, not boredom, but something similar. Although I haven't seen Lynne since Monday [and then it was only for ten minutes] I have not missed her one bit. In fact, sometimes she annoys me intensely. Whys is this? Am I being unreasonable? When will I know I've met the right lady? Can I feel love, or am I to be denied it forever? _____________. Is Lynne going to have to go? Am I a swine? Oh God! I'm such a mixed up sod. It's as though millions of my brain cells have refused point blank to develop along with the others, so that whilst in many ways I am fully mature when it comes to Lynne Mather I might as well be a Louis XVI commode. The only thing I can do is carry on as usual and see what develops.

Mum and Dad go see John and Maria at 8pm and I'm at home alone until 9pm. Play records at full volume thinking of who to ring with the hope of nipping out for a drink or two. No developments in this field. Mum comes home with a bottle of wine and crate of Guinness. Dad is on duty at 10 and so Mum and I sit and chat until nearly midnight. Bed at 12 with 'Edward VIII'.

News: I have bought a denim jacket with a hood. Mum's reaction was: "Are men supposed to wear things like that?" It doesn't deter me though. Other news: Miss Heckmondwike is the new Miss World.

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Sunday November 7, 1976

21st after Trinity. Straight to Sarah's residence at 12.30. Don't propose to go into great detail but if I mention Rolls Royces, caviare, Delia, wine, &c, &c, you'll know what I mean. A brilliant occasion somewhat reminiscent of those grand Edwardian days which expired in August, 1914 when Europe erupted in the holocaust of World War. Wonderful, truly wonderful. [The whole thing was captured on photograph and so if you want to study the event in pictures don't hesitate to take down one of my old albums, will you?]. Lynne, Sarah, Peter B and I did most of the washing up and then staggered to the Fox & Hounds at Bramhope. Peter and Sarah both made comment on the quantity of alcoholic liquid refreshment consumed by my good self, and when I looked in Lynne's direction for some support to my horror I found that she agreed with them. They're quite right, I do suppose. Home at 10.30 with a thumping head. What a day! Lynne disappears in the general direction of Roundhay and I collapse into my bed.

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Saturday November 6, 1976

More tales of the lives of everyday country folk at Thornton-le-Dale. Up at lunchtime and get under the feet of Mr Mather and Pete as they demolish a wardrobe, or something. They push me into the lounge where I watch Tallulah Bankhead in an episode of 'Batman'. Hasn't she been dead for eight or nine years?

Eventually Lynne gets up and when she is ready the two of us go to Pickering [or perhaps Malton?] for a couple of hours. Pouring rain. Have a pint in a grotty pub and purchase a £2 box of chocolates for Sarah's birthday. Back home for tea. We prepare to go out, and Peter tags along and the three of us go to the nice pub with the juke box. [Am I not a vague old sod?] Back home with Peter at 11pm, and after dumping him Lynne and I go to the Bali Hai at Scarborough. A great time. Good music. Lynne always seems surprised when I get up and dance. Why is this? Am I considered to be some sort of cretin? Who has been spreading malicious rumours about my capabilities?

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Friday November 5, 1976

A perishing cold day. Drive with Lynne to Thornton-le-Dale and at 8 o'clock we go with Mr & Mrs Mather and Karl to Scarborough in the hope of getting a glimpse of some beach bonfires & fireworks, &c. No such bloody luck. We are too late. After Donald, Vera, Lynne, Karl [for it is they] ate ice-cream whilst I supped a can of shandy we all departed to a remote mountain not far from Scarborough where Karl was let loose with his fireworks. Unimpressive things they are too. All Lynne can do is moan about the [cold] weather. I laugh at the sight of her stood wrapped in a one of the tartan car blankets. Mrs M is frozen solid too. After 10 minutes we depart for Thornton-le-D once more. Lynne complains about being tired again. My God she is only 19! Mrs M insists that Lynne is always tired because of the constant gas leak in her office. We laugh.

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Wednesday November 3, 1976

Up at 7.30. I actually heard the alarm ringing at 7 o'clock today but chose to ignore it. Over breakfast Lynn informs me that the nauseating Jimmy Carter has won the American presidential elections. This is a terrible start to the day. His smile is almost abnormal and I for one can't see him doing any good at all. Poor old President Ford will go down in history as the only president of the USA never to have been elected into office.

To work with Jim [Rawnsley] who is still agitated about the health of the pound and his mind thinks of little else. Carol Johnson comes into the office at 9 o'clock saying [Gerald] Ford is the winner. For a couple of hours we do not know exactly who, or what, has become U.S president.

Go to 'lunch' at the Central with Judith. She drinks pernod and eats cheese and onion crisps. Stuart was never mentioned. I was robbed by the thieving old bitch behind the bar but we didn't let that get in our way. She laughs at the photo of a weeping President Ford on page one of this morning's YP. Work until 5pm. Home at 6. Lynne arrives simultaneously and we have tea. Mum goes on about me not informing her when Miss Mather comes to tea, but surely we have no need to stand on formality in this house? At seven o'clock we go to the Commercial for one drink before she departs to a friend's house in Harrogate & a birthday party. I return home and watch a stinking James Bond film with Lynn and Dave and afterwards look on in horror at a gloating Jimmy Carter on the 9 o'clock news [or was it News at 10?] Bed at midnight. Mum and Dad have been at Molly and Jim's with John, Maria and JPH. I have a growing suspicion that baby Rhodes is destined for great things.

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Monday November 1, 1976

The day was a busy one and nothing particularly amusing occurred. At about 3 o'clock the famous Chid [Paul Cheetham] comes in to do some research into Leeds traffic. He's still slumped over a desk at 4.30 when I set off in the direction of home. Lynne rings me at 6 o'clock to say she's coming straight from the office. I made an attempt to ring her this afternoon but somebody in her office informed me that she was too bogged down with work to answer the phone. Denise, who gave Tony a filthy glance last night in the Black Bull, rang this morning. Somehow I thought she would. ___________________.

John, Maria and Baby arrive for tea and stay until 10pm. JPH is an absolute darling are we can virtually see him growing these days. Fat legs. Smiling at everyone. The poor beggar was passed round the room at such a speed that he must wondered what the hell was happening. Lynne departed before the others saying something about Auntie Lilian having a meal prepared.

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Friday October 29, 1976

Lynne comes here at 8 o'clock. She's half starved and we go to Harry Ramsden's again to pacify her. Down to the Hare & Hounds with Lynn & David. Martyn arrives and later Tony, Jill [John Cameron's concubine] and Stuart, whom I think fancies Lynne. He can't get over her being such a tall lady. CB comes in with her new blonde friend who works at the Hare several nights each week. The juke box was on the blink and playing records without us having to insert coins, and CB informed on us playing records for free. No sooner had she done this that the whole management converged on our corner and un-plug the record machine. Miserable bastards. I tell CB that her informing on us is pathetic and comes back with some clever remark about people having some sort of responsibility!

Judith was behind the bar. So we had good, speedy service all night. She seems to like Lynne. Nice girl, Judith. Back to Pine Tops. Lynne and I, Sue & Pete watch 'Rosemary's Baby'. It's a film taken from the book of the same name by Ira Levin. Quite good really and not dissimilar to 'The Omen'. She goes at 1am. Not seeing her [Lynne] until Monday evening.

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Wednesday October 27, 1976

To the Black .... Oh Sod it! Start again. To the Brown Cow in Horsforth at 8.15 with good old David L and eventually Marita, who arrives at 9.30, or so. Haven't seen David for months, and by all accounts the going is hard. He's returning to Gloucester on Friday in order to construct a duck pond, or something. A great chap is Dave. Marita is her usual self. Always on about old times but ________________.
Aren't I a bitter, twisted old git? Must be the influence of Lynne. Somehow I don't think Marita likes her at all. On arriving tonight she enquired: "Oh, how's whats her name ... Princess Anne .. getting on?" She refused even to say Lynne's name.

Home at 11 o'clock and watch the David Frost/Sir Harold Wilson quiz. I quite like Sir Harold even if he is a damned socialist. He's better than the current incumbent of 10, Downing Street, anyway. Audrey Callaghan is a nice bit of stuff though. Her tits! - Cor!! Jim sure knew what he was doing when he got her knickers off. Here endeth the crude, nasty bits for today.

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Monday October 25, 1976

Work at 9.30. Sarah isn't too well. Bugger about and manage to finish for 2.30 or so. Home by 5.15. Have a bath and then Lynne comes up at 8 o'clock with my luggage. Put on my new trousers, red shirt and cardigan. Just the two of us to the Hare & Hounds at 8.30 for an hour. She goes home afterwards [to Gipton Wood Crescent that is] because Aunt Lil has her evening meal ready. Quite a good night at the Hare. We are becoming more and more close I think. [We are] staying over here this coming weekend. She's coming on Friday and going straight to Thornton-le-Dale after we've been out. The weekend after I'm going to Thornton-le-D with her on Friday [Nov] 5, and coming back on Sunday [Nov] 7, to go to Auntie Delia's luncheon.

See the Queen on TV at 11 o'clock tonight officially opening the National Theatre, on the South Bank. [The South Bank of what? Not of the Ouse, I think]. A modern, updated version of the National Anthem was played at the opening and, in my opinion, I think that perhaps the composer should be hanged with piano wire. Nauseating it really was. Bed at midnight.

Oh, by the way. Auntie Mabel, Marlene and Frank, Mark & Debbie came at 6.30 for an hour. Sorry, I forgot to mention it earlier.

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