Thursday January 15, 1976

When John came in from the pub last night we had a very intimate chat about our relationship with the ladies, and the following items of interest were disclosed. 1). Mrs P(hillips) went to see Molly Macdonald last Thursday afternoon and sat ranting and raving about the way I used Carole and how I let her buy all my Christmas presents and how I let her take me out all through the week and how I let her buy all the drinks and how I have the cheek to arrange a holiday without taking Carole with me!! Maria was witness to all this defamatory chit-chat and was angered by the way Mrs P started making the same claims about John. This incident coincides with Carole's behaviour on Friday. John also told me that Carole wasn't __________.
I was horrified and laid awake for hours thinking of the evilness of some people, and how some people have the nerve to go to church on a Sunday and then act like the devil for the rest of the week. Has Carole given her mother this impression, or does Mrs P just assume that this is going on? John also commented on how much Carole has changed, as did David at the weekend. _______________________.

I woke up today at 12.45pm. Feel a bit better after a long sleep and have fish and chips with John. Mum comes in from work at 1.30 and when Dad gets up I tell them about the things Mrs P's been saying. Dad gives me his advice and talks about women in general and the complex way they look at things. Mum says it's obvious that Carole thinks a lot more of me than I do of her and advises me to have a change if I feel bored and suffocated. I do feel suffocated and wish I were free of the ties, and I intend doing something about it shortly. OK, I like Carole, but marriage is not quite on for me, mate. Dad says he is so lucky because he met Mum when he was 16 and decided immediately that he wanted nobody else. Love like that must ne great.
However, I'm longer in the tooth and harder to match up with anyone.

Carole rings twice and is in tears on both occasions. I just feel useless and clumsy listening to a weeping, wailing woman slobbering down the phone in inaudible moans. We must get to the bottom of this trouble because it's getting on my nerves.

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Saturday December 27, 1975

A wonderful day. Dave B wakes me at 11.10 with yells of horror. I think he had to dance about on my bed before any signs of life were evident. Mum makes us toast for breakfast and Lynn devours most of it, along with gallons of tea.

I worry about Carole, who may well be still laid indisposed with her 'ailment', and I fear she may be unable to make the arduous venture to the coast.

At 12 o'clock Lynn, Dave and myself arrive at Oakridge Hall where we are entertained by the sight of Lady Phillips hanging out her washing. Carole is boisterous and looking fit and refuses any bodily aid whilst alighting into Mr Baker's automobile.

After a pleasant journey lasting approximately two hours we arrive in Scarborough. A breezy, fresh and highly humorous couple of hours follow, the highlights of which I will attempt to outline: a passionate photographic session on the beach was followed by a disgusting scene in a 'candy floss store' where we watched, in horror, as a filthy salesman attempted to clean out his candy floss machine with an old cloth he'd just used on the toilets. The man had filthy layered paws. A blood curdling incident followed in a hotel where Carole shared a teapot of tea with me and proceeded to fall, head long, down a flight of stairs whilst visiting the ladies loo. After this we moved on to Whitby. To say it is a ghost town would be an understatement. The only person we did see in that quaint harbour town was an aged old lady whom Carole thought might be a witch.

We then ventured homeward looking for fish and chips without much success. We ended up at a pub in Collingham where we ate piles of scampi and swilled cinzano. Home at 11 to watch a Frankenstein epic.

Mum's hurt her foot and think she may have broken a bone or something.

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Wednesday December 24, 1975

Christmas Eve. At 12 o'clock we went over to the Central, which was like the Black Hole of Calcutta. Fighting to get to the bar proved tortuous and we just about died of thirst while queueing. Sarah goes home at 2.30 and Carol J and I leave an hour later after I'd given massive drunken Christmas kisses to all the drunken females spread around the pub. Eileen just about had me on the floor. She was with her younger sister, Christine.

At 4.30 I'm home and feeling dog-tired as I always do after lunchtime boozing. I fall asleep in the bath and climb out at 6.30 to a roast pork sandwich and a selection of pickles and onions.

By 8pm I'm all well again and Carole arrives just as I'm about to set off and collect her from home.

We go to the Hare where everyone is assembled and I sit with Mr & Mrs P for a couple of hours. We leave at 11 after witnessing a scuffle in which Rick Ryder prominently featured.

Dave L reminds me about his party on Boxing Day. Carole, Lynn, Dave, John, Maria, Susan, Peter all come back to Pine Tops for supper and drinks. At midnight we open most of the presents and I'm thrilled to see that Carole's bought me an instamatic camera. We are all up until nearly 3am and the lounge was devastated with Christmas wrapping paper by the time we'd finished. Dave B took Carole home.

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Sunday December 14, 1975

3rd in Advent. Up at 7.30am. Yes, your eyes are not deceiving you. I was up at 7.30 and at Carole's for 8.30.

At home I first had a boiled egg for breakfast and got myself well wrapped up for the great ordeal ahead of me. By 8.30 I was at Carole's and by 9 o'clock we'd roused the entire household.

After sitting for an hour listening to Mrs P's reminiscences of her Bermudan childhood, we set off for the bus stop. The prospect of walking to Ilkley proved unbearable and so we decided to go the idle way. We have a laugh in the garden centre in Menston and end up walking miles anyway because the buses only run once every hour on the Sabbath.

Get to Ilkley for 11.30 and immediately buy fish and chips, which are putrifying. A tour of the antique shops concludes the visit and we return to Guiseley for luncheon.

I'm in no writing mood today. I feel listless.

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Sunday December 7, 1975

2nd in Advent. A bloody day. Don't want to write anything.

I went to Carole's for tea and afterwards watched 'Virgin Soldiers' on tv. A good film.

Mrs Phillips (bless her) gave me an old print entitled 'Over the sea, and far away'. I carry it home under my arm at midnight and run the risk of being taken in by Her Majesty's Police Force.

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Monday November 17, 1975

Chilly blasts and ice-cold draughts howl around my knees at 8am as I set foot out of the house for another day at the office. A hectic day too. Sarah is at her grandmother's funeral, and of course Kathleen never works Mondays. Carol is on the verge of mental collapse and Eileen reverts to her bad-mannered ways as she always seems to do at times of stress.

Someone was arguing about a quiz programme on tv yesterday. Evidently, the 50 dollar question was 'give me nine womens names beginning with the letter M'. The poor contestant could only think of six, and thus lost a chance to spend a week in St Tropez, all expenses paid. It's such an easy question too:
Mary, Marian, Mary, Mildred, Mary, Margaret, Mary, Millicent, Mary, Melissa, Mary, Maude, Mary, Mirabel, Mary, Mabel, Mary, Magdalene, Mary, Muriel, Mary, Megan, Mary, Marjorie, Mary, Michelle, Mary, Myrtle, Mary, Marianne, Mary, Marie, Mary,. Maria, Mary, Margot, Mary, Mandy. Well ok, Mandy is short for Amanda, but I bet someone somewhere is actually called Mandy.

Carole rings me and informs me that Mrs P has bought a bottle of pernod for us to get through on Thursday. Lynn and Dave and John and Maria are invited round, so we'll have a good time of it before dining out.

All I can say is I am glad we are nowhere near Londinium because you wouldn't find me in a restaurant down there. The IRA isn't going to have the pleasure of putting a stop to my happy, little existence. I intend to battle on to be over 100 whether these terrorists like it or not. Goddnight.

Wednesday October 29, 1975

Go down to Carole's at 8.15 and see that her Mum and Dad are still not on friendly terms with her. In fact, they didn't say much to me either.

We go across to the Hare & Hounds but I don't feel like drinking really. At 10.30 we are straight outside into the fog and I'm on a Bradford bus in next to no time. We arrange to meet tomorrow. I'm going to surprise her with a hair cut which I've kept secret. I'll be a bald, idiotic coote.

By the way, I journeyed home at 4.30 from Leeds with the Dowager Mrs Phillips, mother of Carole's dad. She is a bit of a sweet old thing, and seems to be a bit of a ditherer. I find it hard to believe that she's the ogre that Carole makes her out to be. Mind you, you can't tell me about monstrous grandparents. I had my share with Mr X, but I suppose they are never the same to outsiders. Nasty and monstrous grandparents are like sweet old things when outsiders are anywhere near. That is the frustration of them.

Home in the fog before 11pm.

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Wednesday October 22, 1975

Up at 7.30 and dash around like something not right for half an hour. As usual it is to Leeds with Jim. Nothing scandalous or anything in the office at the moment so I'll narate something else instead.

I will have to start sorting out my vast collection of letters and other items of nostalgia. Drawers and cupboards in my room are packed with them. Letters from June Bottomley, Christine, Judith, Carole and Dave Lawson are just about taking over the upper part of 58, Hawksworth Lane, and certain indelicate subjects raised in Carole's latest despatch make me somewhat edgy.____________.

After tea we sit in front of the television. 'Carry On Doctor' gives everyone a laugh. I always watch these films with the intention of passing sentence of death upon them, but end up bent double with galloping hysterics.

At 8.10 John and I get in the car but it won't start. In a torrent of abuse I hurry down the lane only to miss the bus and find myself walking all the way to Carole's. I meet her with Mrs P coming out of Oakridge Avenue and I get the impression they had given me up for dead. Mrs P winds her way to Highroyds and Miss Phillips and I nip into the Hare. It is boring in the Hare tonight. After a rum with a few Coca Colas we go back to Carole's for yet another drink. At 11.15 I miss yet another bus and walk home yet again.

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Friday October 10, 1975

Carole is still at death's door. Realising this fact, I dashed into town at lunchtime to get her a box of chocolates in an attempt to show her how much I love her. Whilst in town I get myself a pair of shoes and a pair of hideous green trousers, which I don't like at all. On my arrival home I sell them to John (the trousers that is) and I find myself £8 better off. Or do I? No, I don't, because I'd have had the £8 in the first place.

Go straight to Carole's on the 33 bus. She is propped up in bed, and her grandmother, the Dowager Mrs Phillips, is being entertained by Mrs P in the drawing room. Carole does look a lot better, and the chocolates do cheer her up somewhat. I stay half an hour and then get the bus home in time for tea. Walk up the lane with Lynn.

After tea I'm once again back down the lane to the Hare. Along with Helen and CD I go to Carole's once more and spend half an hour with her again. Lynn and Dave, Sue and Peter are also there, and Dave bought her a couple of bottles of the hard stuff. I go back to the Hare and stand with CD and Martyn Cole and Ken Dibb - who is pissed. Walk home at 11.30 accompanied by CD, who is being pestered by Richard Wellock.

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Thursday October 9, 1975

I don't go to see Carole tonight because for one thing the weather was an absolute sod, and for the other thing I was rather tired and shagged out after a hard day at work. Mrs P rang me at 9pm to see if I was going down but I told her I was just about to 'hit the sack'.

Mum and Dad have an interview for the Station pub in Ilkley tomorrow morning, and they went down tonight to give it the old 'once over'. They came back with tales of wonder, and I realise now that it's probably a blessing that they never laid possession of the New Inn. I only hope that they have some success.

Yesterday at the Hare I had a bet with Helen that Princess Anne will not have a child until 1977. Next year of course is out of the question (see Sept 22, 1975), and the spring or summer of 1977 is the first opportunity for the royal pair to give the Queen a bouncing grandchild. I have placed a pound on it anyway, which makes it a very serious proposition indeed.


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Wednesday October 8, 1975

Carole is ill again. Her Mum rang me at 6.30 to say she flaked out at work and was rushed home and immediately planted in bed. After hurrying through dinner I dashed down the road to Menston, where Mrs P was carrying on as if a major disaster had befallen the House of Phillips. On being ushered into Carole's room I found a sorry sight indeed. Lying there amidst her pillows looking like death itself. I thought I'd seen the last of her, and I do so hate to see people ill because my mind goes blank, and all conversation on my part dies on my lips. I just sit looking like a spaniel in mourning, and give no comfort or cheer to the invalid in question.

I spend an hour with Carole, who angers me by predicting that I'll finish with her because she is ill all the time. Nothing is further from my mind.

I nipped into the Hare & Hounds for the last half hour and chat with CD, Helen and poor Dave (of stag party fame, who gets married on Saturday). Peter M gives me a lift up home at 10.30, and we discuss the London/Windsor excursion next week. (Uncle) John should have received my letter by now, and I hope he doesn't think I'm being somewhat rude inviting myself down like I have done.

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Monday September 29, 1975

To the YP after 10am. Sarah isn't sexy any more, and I'm going to stop writing about women in these pages because I am frequently making a bloody fool of myself. I change my mind like nobody's business.

Hear from 'George' this evening that Carole is ill in bed with one of her funnny heads again. At 8pm John takes me down to Menston and I buy him a drink in the Hare & Hounds. It is a bloody nasty wet night, so I'm relieved when he takes me straight to Carole's door.

Mrs Phillips bundles me upstairs where the Angel is propped up in bed looking like a ghost on the operating table. We sit watching TV. (Yes, she's the owner of a little portable one), and I stay with her for a couple of hours. I sit hunched on her bed and laugh at the pathetic sight of the rose I gave her on Friday night. There is is, all wilting upon her dressing table. She was reading, and re-reading the letter I wrote to her some days ago, so I think it's about time I created another one for her. The Darling Girl loves me I think. I hate people loving me - it gives me the frightening sense of having to be reliable, responsible and faithful. However, she is perfection itself.

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Friday September 19, 1975

A wet, unpleasant day. Work was quite busy and I was glad to make good my escape at 4.30. The girls are not in when I get home, and I'm told that Lynn and Dave have gone off with the Baker family to Whitby for the weekend. Grief, they aren't home for two minutes before they're off again.

John came home from work rather early and is propping up the tea table and looking far from well. I am dumbfounded to hear he isn't going out tonight, and am even more stunned to see him stagger upstairs to bed at about 6.30. John ill isn't natural at all. He was never designed to be bed-ridden. I loathe it when he's off colour.

I go to Carole's at 8 and sit watching the television with her horrid 11-year old brother until 8.20. (Dave L dropped me off at C's incidentally). Chat with Mrs P and I like her a lot. Now I know where Carole gets her character.

To the Hare and Hounds. Quiet really, and only Dave L, Keith and Helen, CD, and C. Smith are present. At 9.30 we all go to the New Inn. My first view of what could be my future home, and I'm quite surprised really. Cosy with great prospects and I'm warmed within to think it's not a rough hole in the ground. Back to the Hare for a final drink before going to Wikis which is incredibly dead. Everyone leaves at 1am except for Carole, CD, and me, and I suffer the horror of walking up, or rather scaling Thorpe Lane in torrential rain. Frogs and toads were leaping around everywhere, and I felt far from jovial.

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Friday September 12, 1975

Go round to Carole's where she is looking much better, and is quite ready to go out and about once again. Have a laugh with Mrs P. She overheard me telling Mr P that I am taking Carole to the Hare & Hounds. She hasn't told her Dad where I take her, and I suppose he really didn't want her drinking until she is 18. He didn't say anything, but Mrs P was just about crippled with laughter in the kitchen.

Go to the Hare, where David arrives at the same time. All the gang are in again and we stay until 11pm. Mum and Dad came in at 9 and stayed for about an hour and a half, telling everyone about the New Inn. I only hope they get it after all this.

No one can persuade David to go to Wikis, and in the end Carole, self, Keith, Helen, John, 'George', Raymond, and Ray's mate and his ladyfriend, go down. A brilliant night, and Carole and I are hardly separated except for when she gets up to dance. My foot is still somewhat weak and dancing isn't quite the thing I fancied. Peter ( I didn't mention him in the list, did I?) brings Carole and me home at about 2.30, and I go straight to bed. John gets in from 'George's' 10 minutes later.

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Wednesday September 10, 1975

Go and see Carole at 8.30 after having a drink with John at the Hare & Hounds. The poor thing is sat up in bed with Arthur, her Teddy Bear, and she is somewhat pale.

She tells me she's been sick all day but says that she's going into work all the same tomorrow. I tell her not to be idiotic, but I think she hates sitting around at home and would prefer to feel ill at work. Mrs P too, is feeling unwell, and so the household is in a bit of a mess really. Spend an hour with Carole before going back to the Hare. John and 'George' go see Carole as I arrive at the Hare and I stand until 10.30 with Christine D. Elaine comes home on Sunday from New Zealand after being away for 18 months. She is of course looking forward to seeing her big sister after all these months. See Helen too, and Christine B, who is sat with Philip. (Aye, Aye. Do I detect a reunion here?) Home on the 33 bus and walk up Thorpe Lane with CD as usual. My foot isn't too healthy yet, but I can hop along at a rare old speed.

Will go see Carole tomorrow night if she's no better.

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Saturday September 6, 1975

Mum gets me up at about 11. I ring Carole at 'George's' after breakfast and she says we ought to do something this aftnernoon, but she's going shopping in Leeds with her mother first. Like a fool I say I'll hang about at home until she gets back, which isn't for another six hours! After doing absolutely nothing all afternoon I eventually get the call from Carole at 6pm and immediately go down to 'George's' for tea - supposedly that is. Mr & Mrs Macdonald have gone off to Cardiff to see their elder daughter, and so 'George' is grandad sitting for the weekend. John is already at the house and he's yelling at 'George' for not being ready. They are going to Brummels near York with Keith and Helen at 8pm and at 7.30 she's still far from ready.

Carole makes me a beef curry while I rumage through Jimmy's records looking for an LP he played me ages ago. Not knowing the name of the group or the album dooms me to failure from the start. The curry was quite good, and I devoured it whilst Carole prepared herself to go out. John and 'George' go out at 8, and that leaves the two of us with Grandad (Savage). I take him his milk up, and Carole sees that he's nicely tucked in bed. We then walk romantically to White Cross where we get a bus to the Hare. The evening had that autumn feeling about it, and I'm sure we've seen the last of this astonishing summer once and for all.

John, Keith and the ladies leave shortly after we arrive, and that leaves Chris, who is with Gillian U, Christine D, Christine B, who is with a mob at the other end of the bar and doesn't stay with us for a great length of time. Raymond is in with Lumsden and they are keeping away too, so in fact the only ones conglomerated around the juke box are Carole and I, Chris and Gillian, Peter M and Christine D. Nothing much is going on and I can't help thinking that Chris fancies Carole. We had decided to go back to 'George's' to see a horror film, but Peter persuaded us to go up to the Cow & Calf. Out-numbered by women again. Good old CB came along. CB knows CD fancies Peter and has devilment written all over her face. Carole and I stand quite alone for a good part of the night, and I only danced once. We had such a laugh together too. Kept saying 'Cooee!' like Barry Humphries does in the latest Barry Mackenzie saga. Home at 2.30 to 'George's' where I fall asleep on the sofa.


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