Sunday May 8, 1977

4th after Easter. Cloud and drizzle. Breakfast on kippers. Tony rang ______. I suggested going out and he laughed and said he was just thinking about getting pissed. We went to the Shoulder of Mutton for an hour and discussed all the things we've discussed thousands of time before.

Tony

Home for 2.15 and had lunch with all the family - even John, Maria, JPH and Auntie Mabel.

Work from 5pm until midnight. Ursula was her usual cheerful self. Home in a taxi with a comedian of a driver who spent six years in the army in Aden and Edinburgh. He tells of hair curling tales of lesbians in the jungle, suicide squads, severed limbs - the lot. The conversation was heavy with four letter words beginning with F and ending in K, with a U and a C in the middle. Salt of the earth, some of these taxi drivers.




-=-

Monday May 2, 1977

Bank Holiday in Scotland. Had a telephone call this morning from Miss Carole Phillips who demanded, nay commanded me to take her out for a drink this evening. She said that a year ago - to the very day - I had promised to go out with her whenever she wished. Just a social, friendly ale or two - not 'going out' in the context which you may be thinking. She was at Maria's and at first I said I'd go down to tea and then ten minutes later I phoned back to say I'd be at Ridgeway to collect her at 7.30. I arrived a few minutes late with a bag of vegetables for John's pets with very mixed feelings about this whole escapade. Blimey, isn't she supposed to be engaged to Peter Fogarty? She looks very attractive and ravishing. I am reminded about what Jimmy (Macdonald) and I were discussing on New Year's Day after my thirtieth gin and tonic.

Shoulder of Mutton

We had no idea where to go. I suggested Otley, but we finally decided on the Shoulder of Mutton on Hollins Hill. It is out of the way and we are free from being recognised. We caught a bus and laughed and chatted as though no break had ever taken place. In the pub I put to her the question of her so-called engagement because she was wearing no ring, and I was immediately answered. They bought a ring on Saturday and by the following afternoon Fogarty had decided he had no desire to settle down and called off the whole charade. She told me it had been Fogarty who had pushed for it and wanted to be serious. She had done nothing but cry for three or four days and it had been Maria who had suggested ringing me, as a last resort.

You must be aware that Carole and I are in no way forming an alliance of the nature of which I terminated one year ago - it was just a very friendly 'good deed'. We discussed old times and became quite rowdy. I told her: "Carole, you certainly know how to pick 'em." Then paused because I realised she'd picked me. I felt slightly sick after only three drinks and we walked outside and up Hollins Hill and back to the Macdonald residence. When people had told me how much Carole had matured and 'grown up' I didn't ever answer. I wanted to reach a decision myself. I do not think she has matured one bit since last May. Very sweet, but still the dotty, mixed up kid. I said I was sorry for what I had done to her and she said she didn't hold me responsible. She did say I had ignored her on many occasions, whilst I have always accused her of ignoring me. Funny, isn't it? Went back for a coffee and we parted at 11.30. Left very friendly and said 'let's do it again, sometime?' She said she wanted to be my friend and said it was about time she pulled herself together. It was so nice just to talk to her.
-=-

Friday April 29, 1977

CB, on the phone, wakes me at 10.45. The beautiful thing wants to know if I fancy a session at the Black Bull this afternoon but I tell her about the Official Receiver and how he simply wouldn't like me to go. We compromised and said we'd go see Maria and JPH instead.

Played the record player full belt and took a bath and before I knew it it was lunchtime. Cheese on toast with Mama and Papa. Went down to Maria's with great, gaping holes in my shoes. Like a bloody tramp.

Christine: the beautiful thing

Christine came after ten minutes and we gossipped. Yes, no other expression can be given to what we were doing. Not one of our acquaintances escaped the vile insinuations of three idle, coffee swilling peasants upon this dark, unholy afternoon. I saw a look on CB's divine face as I bounced JPH upon my knee, a look I've never seen her show before. I cannot describe it but it spoke a million words.

Paddy Braithwaite brought me home at 5.30. Christine is incredible. I will always feel exactly the same way about her but I do realise nothing will ever come if it and any deeper relationship would only lead to disaster.

Compelled this evening to go out with my peep-toed shoes and felt guilty about it until Martyn showed me the soles (or lack of them) on his feeble footwear.

Tony and I had a quick one in the Hare and collected Martyn and went to the Bod again. Packed out it was and with a profusion of our colonial friends and relations. Met a couple of ladies - one from Halifax. Peter M, Chris and Steve Hudson came in. They're taking Lynne to Manchester tomorrow because she's flying to Ibiza. Denise is going too and they're making a night of it. Peter says he's not _____________.Why? On the way back from Halifax (after taking Mary home) I told Tony that Peter told me last year that the only reason why he (Tony) associates with me is because I am a friend of Denise and he wants to be near her. We laughed. Tony sees Denise sometimes a couple of times a week. I haven't seen her more than a handful of times since last summer.

-=-

Thursday April 28, 1977

Hangover. Rain all morning. Sunshine all afternoon. Soddin' April. Got a £10 postal order for Mr Barclaycard as a contribution to my holiday. God, I only have £50 and I need another £90 in just two weeks time! I'm ruined. Completely and utterly ruined.

Mama and JPH

John, Maria and JPH came for tea and afterwards they left the little treasure with his grandmama whilst they went off to see George Waite about an MGB GT they're thinking of purchasing.

I've a good mind to go and get married because financially things can only improve. Baby watched 'Top of the Pops' and stayed up until 10 o'clock and only grumbled slightly towards the end when his mother came and collected him. JPH is much more attentive now and he played a few games with his grandpapa - throwing his toys on the floor for the old man to pick up seemed to be the main theme.

Saw the second programme in the 'Royal Heritage' tv series. Prince Philip was showing us one of Henry VIII's weapons in the Tower of London and the Prince of Wales was all at sea on HMS Bonington going into detail about the Spanish Armada and Drake and all that lot. Very interesting.

Rang Tony at 7 but he's in Worksop having tea with John Cameron's bit of stuff - the name of whom escapes me. Rang back at 9 and arranged to meet tomorrow. He told me a sad tale indeed of Carole and Peter Fogarty at Denise's last Sunday. Tears, swear words and throwing of engagement rings. Yet they are still engaged. Spoke to Martyn too and told him about Stockport. He may have some golf planned for May 14 but he said he'd do his utmost to keep the day clear.

Don't remember what time I went to bed but it was quite early because I wanted to avoid the by-election crap on the BBC.
-=-

Friday April 22, 1977

I bet you didn't know it is St George's Day tomorrow, did you? Well it is. Who will be the new Knights of the Garter? Just wait and see. Eager thrusting peasants that you are.

Day off. Slept until noon and then came down for lunch with Mama and Papa - fish and chips. Spent all afternoon reading 'Majesty'. Yes, doing nothing else whatsoever. Bliss it was too. The only strenuous task was making the occasional cup of coffee.

The Princess, Apperley Lane 

John, Maria and the young prince came for dinner at 5.30 and when Martyn came at 7.30 we went with John and Maria to the Emmott Arms. They left after one drink and Martyn and I walked down to Gayle's residence. Carol, aka 'Emu' is there too. We went to the Princess on Apperley Lane where the barman is eight foot six inches tall, or on stilts. Carol is a bit cool at first but a couple of bitter lemons soon remedy that.

The Woolpack at Yeadon was our next port of call and then the Station on Henshaws Lane. Andy and Linda were in. Emu and I do a spot of tap dancing and somehow embarrass Gayle. Martyn was pissed but insisted on denying it. Emu doesn't believe I'm 22 and says I'm only 18 or 19. She can suit herself. I can be nothing but flattered. A marathon stroll to the Stone Trough concluded our 'crawl'. Maura was there with her entourage. A friend of Emu's says I sound 'Scottish'. Christ Almighty! I've been called some things in my time but this is the very worst. Scottish! Those oil grabbing pagans?  Oh I can't bear it. Harry Lauder and all that. It's just too much.

Back to Emu's place (Gayle is staying there). Very similar to the Dean family of Queensway. They're very broad Yorkshire and proud of it. Emu tells them I live on Hawksworth Lane and an icy pall falls over the house. Watched two revolting films whilst Martyn slept in the armchair. Emu was hysterical and said she was making herself ill with laughing. Should I become a comedian do you think?

Martyn and I came home by taxi to Pine Tops. He slept on the settee.Sue and Peter were entertaining Janet Simon and boyfriend.
-=-

Tuesday April 19, 1977

Got to work and felt particularly violent towards the moronic inhabitants of the crumbling building of my employ. Matt Shelley for one moved to the top of my assassinations list. Blimey, just because he's got no legs he thinks he can get away with bloody murder. Well, I for one don't have one ounce of pity or sorrow for him. Being pushed around all day eh! OK Big Matt I must say that reduces me to tears. If you want to go messing around with fast cars you must suffer the consequences. Piss off, old man!

Isn't it strange how I become enraged by certain people? Am I perhaps the murdering kind? No doubt at this very minute a Scotland Yard detective is combing these very pages for evidence. Well, hard luck, Constable. I'm not telling you just who I've killed or under which cabbage patch he or she is buried.

The Prince of Wales dined at Chequers last night and met the Cabinet. Queen Victoria wouldn't have liked that idea at all.

with Carole

Two phone calls at tea time. Auntie Mabel phones to say she met the ancient sister of one of Grandma Wilson's bridesmaids in Pudsey who told her that John Wilson married Levinyer Wood at St Paul's, Richardshaw Lane, and that my great-grandmother Wood had a baby daughter who died, also named Mabel. Good old auntie doing some family research for me.

Martyn rang to say the date with Gayle and 'Emu' is on for Friday. He suggested Manningham Fair but we debate whether the fair will still be there by Friday. Who can we contact to find out? Martyn suggests the Minister for Home AFFAIRS. No doubt my FAIRY godmother will drop in later with the answer.

Martyn thinks I'm insane dating the famous Emu. Even Tony, who falls for anything in knickers, gives great belly laughs when he hears her name mentioned. Do they know something perhaps which I do not? Can one catch horrible, incurable diseases from the emu? Tell me now before it's too late.

At 7.30 I went round to Ridgeway to see John and Maria who are in residence in the absence abroad of Jim and Molly. John is out with George (Waite) and Maria is entertaining Carole - our first meeting since March 9. Why does Carole bring out the imbecile in me? I go incredibly childish, and so too does Maria. The atmosphere is so infectious. We made such a racket laughing and forgot about the baby until John came in and reminded us. It must have been Ridgeway too .... memories of Carole, John, Maria, &c. You know the rest. She didn't mention Fogarty and neither did I. John drove me home at 10.30.

See funny old President Carter on the BBC.

-=-

Monday April 11, 1977

Bank Holiday in England, Ireland and Wales. Last night  was ghastly. Feathers abounded and my poor lungs almost gave way to it all. Gasping and wheezing my way through a Bank Holiday is hardly what you'd call enjoyment, but I suppose it's better than being at the Yorkshire Post.

The morn is warm and sunny and the birds are singing gaily. In fact I accidentally kicked a sparrow off it's feet thinking it was a stone. What's wrong with the bird-life in Cumbria? Our feathered friends in Yorkshire wouldn't let you do such a thing.

Breakfast again consisted of eggs, sausages and the lot. Have a laugh with Maria about her half-cast Irish accent. She has a good sense of humour for sure, and the weight is falling off her. A slip of a girl in fact.

A photographic session outside the accursed Kell Head (pub) and then whilst I'm inspecting the urinals John, Sue, Peter and the baby disappear down a lane on some sort of nature trail. I gave chase and after 10 minutes I found them hiding in a field in the hope that I'd walk merrily past and fade away over the horizon. They had even gone to the trouble of lifting John (baby version) in his pram over a five barred gate and into a derelict barn to perfect the dastardly scheme. Swines that they are.

The party arrives from Uncle H's abode and Mum pays her bill. She was still fuming about last night's snub. Lynn laughed and said that Susan resorted to smoking in bed to calm the violence of her temper over the 10.30 closing horror. The offending cigarettes were borrowed from Mrs Maria Rhodes.

Hurriedly pack and within half an hour we're back on the road to St Bees - in somewhat more clement circumstances than yesterday. I take off shoes and roll up trousers and hurtle myself in the direction of the sea. Maria likens my prancing over the sands to that of a frisky stallion. A photographic session followed as the clan gathered 'neath a concrete barrier in the weak sunshine. Memorable it was.

Fish and chips back at Uncle Harry's and at 3pm we're on the trek homeward. Me, Mum, Dad, John, Maria and baby in one car, and the others with Peter. Stopped off at the Anchor Inn again but otherwise it was straight home. The usual Bank Holiday traffic jams but that can only be expected. On a starving rampage on my arrival home. The Cumbrian sea air must have brought it on because I just could not stop eating. Beans on toast, cheese, jam, buns, cream crackers, &c. You name it, pal, I ate it tonight.

-==-

Friday Apirl 8, 1977

Good Friday. Helen Malin, 23. Out of bed at 10.30 this morning. The sun is shining down merrily too. Why not go out for a walk, Michael, and feel all that warmth on your little legs? Yes, I will. I go down into Guiseley and purchase a birthday card for dearest Judith. I then sauntered round to Bedside Manor to deliver up my greetings card in person with strict instructions for her not to open it yet. In fact, I'd slipped a letter in with it and had to partially write it in the telephone box on Fieldhead Road and partly on the footpath outside Guiseley School.

Judith entertains me to coffee but looks ill because she has fallen foul of her dentist earlier this week, and her wisdom teeth had been extracted on my birthday, of all days.

Old photographs and her cat were the principal subjects discussed at great length.

I went home for a non-existent lunch with Mama, who is in a foul mood. (Dad is still on his back under the car all covered in motor oil). Mum's mood worsens and the combined effects of her miserable face and the film 'South Pacific' didn't do much for morale. But at 5 o'clock, as if by magic, the film was interrupted by a news flash and a smiling Richard Baker announces that Princess Anne is expecting a baby in November. Joyous news indeed. For such an announcement to come on Helen Malin's birthday is fate indeed. I believe we have a bet on Princess Anne's maternity dates. Fancy. The Queen a grandmama! Good Old Captain Phillips. I was beginning to doubt his masculinity somewhat. Three cheers for them all.

High Society

John and Maria come up at 6.30 for ten minutes. John's car is also knackered. Even as I write this I can hear Mama blowing her mind over her fish pie in the kitchen.

Devouring my (fish) pie I decided to remain in front of the television tonight and not to venture out to the pub, as tradition demands. Yes, your eyes are not deceiving you. My decision has nothing to do with Princess Anne's good news either. I am not clad in my Union Jack underpants and clutching my postcard of Anne and Mark's wedding. My decision was due to the BBC. Yes, a tv series about slavery that's brought the USA to a stand still - called 'Roots'. The household is in great holiday furore. Not a morsel of food or drink in the place because you know what mother's are like when it comes to leaving grub kicking around in the fridge for more than 24 hours with no one in the house to eat it? Dust is flying from suitcases, windjammers, thermos flasks, cotton nappies, &c.

Mum discusses stopping at a pub for lunch tomorrow. "What about the baby?" I ask. "Oh, we're bona fide friends". Eh?  "Well", continued mother yawning "JPH has small bona fides". Too much for me is all that.

By 11 we're watching a film starring Twiggy - Mama and Papa having retired to bed. Princess Grace and Bing Crosby are on the other channel in that smashing epic they usually put on at Christmas - 'High Society'. What this film has in common with the birth or death of Jesus Christ I simply don't know.

-=-

Thursday April 7, 1977

Last day at the office before the commencement of the Easter holiday. Can't say I'm not looking forward to it. Haven't had a break since Christmas.

Dad: his car's MOT.

Tempted to go down to the Hare but decide against it. Must conserve a few bob for the gathering in Cumbria. Looking forward to seeing Uncle Harry again.

Rang Dave L at 8. He's going to the Hare with a couple of friends from Bradford tonight and mentions seeing Chris R and John & Maria earlier in the week. Why hasn't he been to see me? I'm jealous.

Watch TV until midnight with Mama. Dad and Dave B are under the car outside. It's having its MOT on the morrow and they're desperate to ensure it gets through. I couldn't do it myself. Cars are the curse of the 20th century. Will they still be around in the next century? The Arabs will own all the natural resources by then, and so I doubt it. Don't talk to me about North Sea Oil either. That's the biggest swindle since the Common Market. Besides, Scotland will be independent by 1990, and so that will be out.

-=-

Friday March 25, 1977

To tea at John & Maria's straight from the YP. John is looking really suave. Really. A fancy hair style. He's also slimmed down.

with JPH.

I took JPH two chocolate bars and fed him with one. The more he's 'roughed up' the more he screams for more. He loves being dangled with both feet on the floor. He'll be walking in next to no time.

Don't get home until 8pm and within minutes I'm heading back down the road with Dave B in the (Triumph) Spitfire to the Hare. Joined by CB, Chris, Pete M, and Lynn of course, and others. Carole is in with Peter Fogarty but she doesn't speak to me. She wasn't very forthcoming with Lynn either. No Martyn or Gayle of course, and Tony is out with Mandy Phillips.

At 10 I went through to the cocktail lounge to see Judith. She's a great girl. Stay until 11. Joined by Lynn and Dave. In my absence from the main lounge CB, Pete and Chris slink off to Oakwood Hall.

Home with Lynn and Dave. Caught the end of a grotty Michael Caine spy film.

Dad comes in and announces he's going to be the community constable for Guiseley with no night shifts or weekend work! Just days 9 to 5. It doesn't quite sink in and we just can't believe it.












-==-

Thursday March 3, 1977

I'm just too pissed to write large amounts tonight. In rough: went to John & Maria's from the YP and was entertained to dinner with sausage and chips in the company of Miss Phillips. She aggravated me immensely. Even after all these months we argue about nothing at all - completely incompatible. Whilst I'm dangling JPH on my alcoholic knee I hear Maria & Carole whispering in the kitchen but can't quite make out just what they are saying. Later, when John and I are entombed in the Yorkshire Rose he tells me that Carole and (Peter) Fogarty are considering becoming engaged. It had to happen really. She wants to be married. I saw it years ago and I supposed it scared the pants off me.

with Carole.

John and I marched down to the Hare (about one and a half miles I'd say) and met Tony and Martyn. Got a bit pissed on Tetley Silver Jubilee Pale Ale (half a pint of this is equivalent to 3 whiskies). John poured some of his ale into my glass. I was well away.

Back at J and M's residence I persuaded Maria to play Beethoven's 'Fur Elise' while the audience sat supping coffee.

Beethoven's Fur Elise

The recital was very much appreciated. Home at 12 just as Mum and Dad return from Auntie Mabel's. I must go over on March 11 with a birthday present. Her first birthday without Uncle Jack will be obnoxious.

Sunday February 27, 1977

1st in Lent. Awakened at 10.30 by Maria and baby. Give him a nurse sat naked in bed sheets. Me naked  in bed sheets that is. JPH was fully clothed. I think he was expecting me to breast feed him. Babies are a wonder. I wouldn't mind having a few myself shortly - ones begotten on the wrong side of the sheet, or is it blanket? You know what I'm getting at anyway.

Out at 8 o'clock to the Hare with Tony and Martyn. We fall upon Judith and Kathryn. I ask if she's made any attempt to get March 12 off work to accompany me to David B's 21st. She seems to favour the idea. The three of us go to the Craven Heifer again. It's ridiculously packed - like a London air raid shelter in 1942. All very friendly. Meet three schoolgirls who work as Saturday girls at Smith's in Ilkley. One is a bespectacled Arien and is nice and witty. We are joined by an uncouth cad who has nine endorsements for various motoring offences. The women regard him as something of a sex object. We all go back to the flat for a quick coffee. The girls refer to the absent Barry as 'Mr Munnings' which is thoroughly hilarious. Home by 11.30. To bed.


-=-

Monday February 21, 1977

It's afternoon when I'm awakened by Susan. She's ridden with another cold. She's like a lobster and sneezing her head off. Mum comes in for lunch and we eat hurriedly because she wants to get back to the grindstone after half an hour or so.

Dad comes in at 3 and says a lunatic from Highroyds threw himself under a train in Guiseley this morning. How he can come home for a hearty lunch after picking up bits of leg, foot and thigh God only knows.

I went to Guiseley Library and got Evelyn Waugh's diaries which have only just been published. CB and I always laugh about Evelyn Waugh, for some reason, and I often sign letters to her 'from Evelyn Waugh's Dad'.

Brisk walk to John and Maria's. Baby is in bed which is disappointing because I wanted to give him some chocolate. Give Maria a run-down on the weekly events and the details of Saturday night's orgy. She enjoys tales of carnage and lewd goings on.

Dave Lawson.

Back home by 5.30. Sue says Dave L's been on the phone. I ring him. He's on half-term until Wednesday. He comes for me at 8.30 and I'm surprised when he suggests we go to the Commercial. He hates the place, but his excuse is that it won't be quite so busy in the week. It's great going out with David because it's brilliant and soothing to know I'm not the only skint guy in the British Isles. After a couple of drinks we go on to see John & Maria who, unbelievably, are tucked up in bed at 9.30pm. This really made David's night and he pulled Maria's leg. John is given the quest of finding David a buck rabbit before he returns to Gloucester on Wednesday. Good old Mr Lawson. Surely one of the greatest persons I have ever met. Won't be seeing him again until CB's party on March 11.



-==-

Monday February 7, 1977

Maria and JPH.

A wet, rotten day. After lunch I went down to the cobblers, yes cobblers. Had an old pair of shoes rendered wearable. Took a pair of trousers to the dry cleaners and books to the library. A really industrious afternoon. Got soaked through. Move on at 3.30 or so to Maria's. She is entertaining the former Margaret Appleyard, Ian's sister, and her baby, Daniel, aged one. When Margaret has left Maria goes on to me about my female problem, which must now be known to everyone except Lynne. I agree I ought to end it before it goes on much longer. I bravely say 'Oh, I'll do it tonight', but know only too well that I'll find some excuse at the last minute.

with JPH.

Lynne comes at 7.30 and sees how miserable I am but foolishly I say nothing. She tries to be so nice, which only makes it worse. To the Ratcliffe residence so that Lynne can collect the holiday brochures - she wants to book her holiday tomorrow. Then have fish and chips and go to the Fox & Hounds where I have half of lager. When she dropped me off at home she asked Mum why I'm such a 'miserable sod'.






-==-

Sunday January 30, 1977

4th after Epiphany. Up at 12 noon just as John and Maria arrive with JPH in his perambulator. He's parked in the lounge and the usual race follows to see which member of the family can first lay hands on him. The porridge he'd had for breakfast at Molly's didn't stay down. In fact he brought a fair amount of it up all over me. Lynne clears off in the direction of Chris's at Horsforth to collect Peter M for the great trek back to Ty-Onnen. Why do they have to go home just for one bloody night?

John and his first-born.

We had lunch at 2. Peter N included which is quite a laugh because he always 'has a go' at Mum. He has a great sense of humour.

I work tonight. Yes, I give the YP use of my amazing brain for one whole evening. Work 6.20pm - 1am. Not too bad an onslaught really. Did about 48m tons of filing. Oh God, I'm confused again. Women, I'm afraid. Ring Judith and arrange to go see the 'Pink Panther' next Wednesday. We joke about our constant failure to see the danmed thing. Since the Wednesday after Christmas the arrangements have gone hay-wire. Rang Dave Glynn and had a chat.


-==-

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.

-==-

Wednesday January 12, 1977

Miss Braithwaite, or 'CB'.

Have a damnable headache but I'm not sure it's a hangover. Blimey, did I have all that lqiuid refreshment last night? No, I didn't. Out tonight with Miss Christine Braithwaite, spinster of the parish of Horsforth. But first, a family gathering. I went to John and Maria's at 5.30 to find Maria dashing off to a recital, and Molly and Jim were just arriving too. John, Molly, Jim and I have tea together whilst baby JPH gurgles and vomits on the settee. The little fellow is becoming heavy. Jim brings me up home at 8, and by 8.35 I'm down Thorpe Lane and lodged in the Hare. CB and I have one drink and then go to Neville's [Ilkley] for a bottle of wine and then the Fish Dish for one of each. CB tells me a tale of woe indeed. What a changed person she is. She's not drinking to excess any more and has a much 'quieter' outlook. She was quite ill before Christmas and the sordid New Year hasn't helped at all. She is a great friend. CB could never be anything else. However, I fear she's obsessed with death. She kept saying she has a feeling inside that she won't 'be around' [i.e. alive] next Christmas! What an awful thing? I couldn't stand life without CB to make me laugh. She says that she won't look at a man again unless his pockets are crammed with cash, has a villa in Capri and an E-type Jag parked on his Georgian-style driveway. God Almighty! -==-

Saturday December 11, 1976

Up at 1.20pm - the phone is ringing like something not right. I lay listening to it expecting one of the servants to answer, but no. After it had ceased I investigate further to find I am the only living soul in residence. 'Breakfast' alone with the record player. Mum comes in at 2 with Maria and baby John. He's grown since I last saw him three weeks ago. A Macdonald too - no Rhodes visible in him at all. Facial appearances of babies change like the weather, don't they? Maria and John stay all day and I arrange to meet them in the Hare tonight.

I go down to the Hare with Sue & Peter. Andy, Linda, Chris, Pete, John, Maria, Elizabeth Macdonald, Molly, Jim, Vasilly [a Greek friend of Libby's] and his wife, &c. Have a good time and it's back to Ridgeway at closing time. Look on in horror as Peter drinks gallons of Jim's whisky. Back at 2am. Mum has been baby-sitting for JPH. Straight to bed.

-==-

Saturday November 13, 1976

Miss Mandy Phillips

Oh God. What a hangover. Tony's on the phone at 10am and wakes me. Says he's coming over later. I stagger about the house doing my best to make myself look normal when John, Maria and John Jun arrived at 12.30. The infant is growing more beautiful every day and is much stronger. He's smiling more as well. Tony comes at 1 o'clock and he takes me down to Bradford in the car. I'm feeling really ill. We go through a car wash and in order to cheer me up he tapes the proceedings. Yes, we are raving lunatics. Go into WH [Smiths] and see Denise for the first time in months. She promises to come up tomorrow. She and Tony didn't seem at all antagonistic towards each other. Back home at 3. I nursed the baby for an hour or so until I began to feel better. Ring Lynne and speak to Peter M too. Martyn rings me and we arrange tonight's session.

To Ilkley with Tony at 8.30. Collect Martyn and then Stuart. Up to the Craven Heifer [Addingham] and then on to Bingley where we pick up a couple of girls. Miss Mandy Phillips, of Thornbury, Pudsey, and another girl, Margaret, whom we decide to call Heidi because of her Tyrolean dress. On to Oakwood Hall where more pilage, plunder and rape took place. Didn't get in the state I was in last night however. Back home to Pine Tops at 2.30 and entertained the lads for more than an hour. Laughed like Hell at the 'Excuse me, Miss' track on the Monty Python [Live at Drury Lane] LP. It really does work wonders. Bed after cheese on toast. Goodnight.

-==-

Thursday October 28, 1976

John comes up at 7 o'clock to say Maria and the baby have a touch of cold and can we go down to see them another night instead. Lynne and I had intended taking a few bottles down to number 69. Instead we go on something of a pub crawl. Red Lion, Black Bull and Hare & Hounds. We discuss all manner of popular topics. Birth control, sex, marriage and Roman Catholicism. Called in at Harry Ramsden's - a rare spectacle these days. No CB out tonight.

-==-