Monday October 31, 1977

A nasty wet day. Had an appointment with Hough. He always treats his victims as though it's their first ever experience in a denist's chair. He means well, I suppose. Walked home from Rawdon with a numb face.

Martyn phoned after tea to say that he, Tony and two young ladies (one being Mrs Carol Johnson) went to a barbecue on Saturday evening at Carlton Lane. No comment. Otherwise, no communication with the outside world.

I haven't phoned the hospital since Thursday which is disgusting but I'm so fed up with bad news on top of bad news.

John came at 7.30 and we all had a go at him. ________. He says his departure for Scotland could be quite soon.

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Tuesday October 25, 1977

_.Day off with Susan. To Bradford at 11 where she did a bit of Christmas shopping - or perhaps I should say all of her Christmas shopping. We met Martyn and had a drink in the Painted Waggon and then Sue went with him to Samuel's to see about a job.

Susan.

Coming home on the bus at 3 o'clock I fell to sleep. It gave Sue a good deal of amusement. At home I phoned the hospital and a helpful nurse said: "she (Carole) is very much better, but very much the same", which is a fat lot of good.

Tony came after tea with bad news. They are taking Carole to Chapel Allerton tomorrow where she is having a hole drilled into the back of her head on Thursday. Tony got this information from her mum, who also told him that they gave Carole something today which paralysed her. Oh God it's hideous. Chapel Allerton Hospital is a leading cancer hospital and most of the leukaemia cases in the area go there. However, the surgery on Carole at the moment is only of an investigative nature and the operation on Thursday is only a test. All may yet be well and in a few months I may well be moaning about seeing Carole out in the usual haunts looking adorable on the arm of Peter Fogarty. I hope to God this is the case.

I felt horribly tired tonight and by 10pm I was dropping off in the chair. By half past I was snoring in bed with 'The Count of Monte Cristo' over my face. I fear I'm never going to get the end of this book. It's taken me a fortnight to read 200 pages which is a very bad show.

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Saturday October 22, 1977

Must be the worst day of my life. All I could think about was Carole in hospital. At 11 I telephoned and asked about her and a nurse told me she is very, very poorly and is receiving no visitors other than close family. I asked her to tell Carole that 'Michael has phoned'. I then made the mistake of looking through the old photograph albums. ________.

with Carole.

Tony came up after lunch and we had a couple of hours in Bradford. By tea time I was depressed like I've never been depressed before and sat in the bath I actually started to cry. I was really upset. It seems that Carole's had something called a 'lumbar puncture' or something and she must have been in great agony. I could do nothing but think of the good times we had together and I was in agony imagining that if she were to go I'd be the only person remaining with those memories and the little things we laughed at and joked about. For God's sake I think I'm in love and it's all too late. They all see, at home, just how upset I am and they behave with great kindness. Lynn is an angel and tells me it will all be OK.

Down to the Fox with Lynn, Dave, Chris and Pete M, Martyn, Denise and Yvonne. I'm cheered up somewhat but still morose and eaten away inside.

At 11 they all want to go to that grotty disco in Bradford again - except Denise that is - so they go and D(enise) and I came back to Pine Tops for a few glasses of wine and a chat. She stayed until 2 and we gave the record player a good bash in the process. She told me she cannot picture anyone who could ever possibly marry me. Insult or complement I don't care.

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Friday October 21, 1977

_.Out with tony and Martyn tonight for the first time in ages. We went to the Fox & Hounds with Sue & Pete N, Chris Rat and Pete M, Andy and Linda, &c. Just like old times don't you think?

Carole: poor pet.

Chris told me that Carole's taken a turn for the worst and that her illness is grave. Even the dreaded word 'leukaemia' was brought up and I shuddered with horror. "My poor Pet is dying" was all I could think and I'm afraid I became quite drunk. Tony said that he saw her yesterday and fears she will never get well again.

From the Fox we went to a ghastly disco in Bradford where I saw Wendy and Anne and some of the others. I was in a terrible frame of mind and behaved quite miserably. It was a relief to get out at 2am. It was not over yet, and I was compelled to endure 2 hours in an Indian restaurant eating rabbit and rice. ___________.

At home and in bed at 4 in the bloody morning. I prayed that Carole will be well again soon so that I can see her _____________.Please don't laugh. It's not my intention to be amusing. It is not until the moment comes when you think you are going to lose someone that the horror of it - and  your true emotions regarding that person - emerge.

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Friday October 14, 1977

Fog. Deep, deep fog. Sue, Pete and I went to the Fox & Hounds at 8 o'clock where we were joined by Chris and Pete M, Martyn and Tony. ____________.Chris was incredibly cheerful. He told us he's joining Sue, Pete and I on our trip to Rawtenstall tomorrow. The more the merrier. That's a dictum to which I strongly adhere myself. Chris told me that Carole is ill in hospital with kidney trouble again. She had a similar illness of similar proportions when she was 12  or 13. I will post her a 'get well' card.

Because of the weather I had no desire at all to go trailing over the county in search of females or more drink, and so when the lads left at 10.15 I told them I was staying with Sue & Pete. In fact we had a very good night at the Fox - a place which I previously had no love for at all.

Home after 11. Mum says Bing Crosby is dead. He collapsed whilst playing golf in Spain. Elvis, Marc Bolan and now Mr Crosby.

Watched the film 'Billy Liar' on TV. Ghastly.

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Monday October 10, 1977

Margaret Thatcher: party conference in Ibiza?

The valiant Margaret Thatcher is loading her guns in readiness for the Tory conference which opens at Brighton tomorrow. Why do they insist upon holding these stupid gatherings in hideous 19th century watering places? Surely, if little me can can manage a fortnight in Ibiza then the great bulwark of the Conservative party machine can surely do the same? I can understand the feeble Liberal party holding its annual circus on English soil because they are rather dull, aren't they?

The Duchess of Kent left hospital yesterday looking well and smiling. It was the duke's 42nd birthday. They are such a loving, close couple and the children all seem so nice. The 'Princess Margaret sort' are all very well, but our monarchy would not survive if all members of the Royal Family were like her.

Saw television which was quite dead. Also kept on with 'The Count of Monte Cristo' which has drifted from the original theme somewhat but I refuse to be defeated.

Phoned Tony. He said he's been 'let down' at the weekend and that he'd not taken Toni (confusion) for dinner at all. "We had a party at the flat instead" he said.  ________________.Heard from Martyn. He started work at Samuel's today.

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Sunday October 2, 1977

17th after Trinity.I received a frosty reception this morning. Mum said my behaviour was reminiscent of Uncle Harry. Dad said he has never seen me as drunk as I was last night. They both set about recalling some of the incidents that took place in the Commercial but I stopped them. I didn't want to hear.

John Pinder, Alison Dixon and Dave B.

Lynn just sat looking at me and grinning and poor Alison dodges out of the way every time I go near her. Evidently I ruined her dress with drink and half drowned her in the process. Poor girl. John (Pinder) and David gave me funny looks too. Blimey, what did I get up to? I can recall very little and shudder to think what passed between Sarah and I.

Lynn, Dave, Alison and John went to Haworth and all that Bronte country for a picnic with the spare trifles and left over pate from last night, and the half consumed bottles of Cinzano. They know how to enjoy themselves, don't they?

I entertained Tony and Martyn. They had a good time at Rawtenstall. Martyn kept saying 'fucking this' and 'fucking that' and dear Mama was only in the kitchen. I registered my displeasure. __________. I didn't mention the Muswell Hill campaign next weekend. They left after half an hour and I re-immersed myself in 'Decline and Fall' by Mr Waugh. The picnic party returned at 5 and Jack Simon came to photograph Lynn and Dave for an engagement portrait. I watched from the window as they frolicked happily on the lawn. Isn't love nice?

Just watched TV tonight. 'Poldark', the Sunday film, and all that. To be honest, I felt horribly tired. Will I live long enough to receive my telegram from the King? If I ever get one from a president I'll tear it to shreds.

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Friday September 30, 1977

Martyn.

Baby John's first birthday. John called in at lunchtime to collect the presents. The house on Silverdale Drive is up for sale and John has every intention of purchasing two broken down old cottages and a couple of acres of land at Stranraer (north of the border). He's packing in his job too - in these days under a Labour government and with seven billion unemployed. I'm afraid I'm sceptical about the whole business _______.

I phoned Martyn this evening after first attempting to contact Tony, who wasn't in. I haven't heard from Tony all week, which is unusual. Lynn had a brief conversation with him and told him she was engaged. He had already been informed of this via Chris R last week. He doesn't know whether he'll make it to the engagement party either because he and Tony are probably going with Chris to Rossendale. __________.

I informed Martyn of my intention to stay at home this evening, by my fireside, quietly reading 'Decline and Fall'. This I did.

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Saturday September 24, 1977

Out of bed at 9.30. Yes, half past nine. I went to Guiseley for a large family-size tin of Eno's Liver Salts and a bottle of orange barley water. Home by 10 feeling much better for my walk. David and Dad were on the drive at work on the Toyota.

Jacq & Joy on Ilkley Moor.

I was commanded to an audience with Mama. It's the usual story. Complaints about things that go pop, bang, and what have you, in the night, or perhaps I should say early morning. She was quite adamant this time about orgies, and future orgies in hours of darkness, and so pained that I vow never again to bring a living soul home after a night out. Mama, whilst sipping her morning tea, threatened terrorist action. When angered I suppose she could make the Bader-Meinhoff gang resemble the Wombles. I went cold with fear.

I have an amusing tale to recount to you. Do you recall M___P___? The mama of Carole? Yes, now you do. Well, it seems she's been caught altering price tickets at Presto again. Terribly sad I know, but there it is. Anyhow, it came to pass that Susan was reading of this incident, and peering over the top of the local paper she said quite seriously to Mama: "My God. That woman must be a nymphomaniac".

Jacqui and Joy came at about 3.30 and we went to Ilkley Moor where I leapt around with a camera. We made spectacles of ourselves before moving to Bolton Abbey for further revelries. The girls are mad. Truly insane. They have never before been north of Luton and are impressed by the rolling greenery of Wharfedale, but I make a terrible guide.

They came back for tea with the family and then we ventured back to Leeds to get ready for John's party at Oakwood (Hall). We didn't leave Leeds until 9 o'clock and the girls and I went to the Old White Horse at Bingley with Sue and Peter. Tony and Martyn joined us. Tony said he wasn't going to Oakwood but on seeing Joy he changed his mind. We got to Oakwood for about 10.30. John and Maria came with Chris and Pete M and Steve Hudson. Joy pinched John for a dance. Jacq and I danced all night. Well, until 2. _______.


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Sunday September 11, 1977

14th after Trinity. Tony, Martyn, Georgina and Jenny came here at about 5 o'clock straight from Nostell Priory where they'd spent the afternoon. Martyn was stoned out of his mind and looked ghastly. They said how he'd just about been thrown out of the priory after collapsing over a china cabinet packed with object d'art.

Hanging Heaton.

We went first to Ilkley and then to Hanging Heaton and Christine Byram's party. We met Christine (Byram) at the Fox and Hounds first and we all got slightly boozed up. Jenny and Georgina are good girls. The elder one is 28, I think, but doesn't look it at all.

The party was going well but things were marred when Eileen and Michael burst in like members of the National Front. Eileen screamed at a quaking Christine, telling her to 'piss off' and Michael bashed a spotty sixth former who happened to say something out of place. A bad show it was. I made some attempt at appeasement, but like the late Neville Chamberlain, I had no success whatsoever.

Christine had a good weep but by 1am things were more or less back to normal. I became most intoxicated and remember grovelling on the floor with either Georgina or Jenny. My God she knows how to kiss. At one point I thought I might be sucked in altogether. Please remind me to ask Tony which just which girl it was being so nice to me. Another young lady gave me a gin cocktail which probably had a dash of every other spirit in it and that was the last thing I can recall. It is said I made a staggering entry into Pine Tops at something in the region of 4am. Mama was awakened by my pissed staggerings but no blows were exchanged. Oh my head.

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Saturday September 10, 1977

A quiet time at home playing records like Jimmy Savile throughout the day and watching TV by night.

I attempted to phone Christine Byram to inform her that Tony, Martyn and I are going to her party tomorrow, but got no answer.

The lads came round after lunch and we lounged around watching a Jules Verne-type epic on BBC2. I told them quite adamantly that I wasn't going out tonight, and they went away in a state of shock. They went to Il Trovatore last night and met Chris and Pete M.

John came up to assist Dad with some joinery work, but I didn't move from the chair. The clock went to eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve and then one without me moving a single muscle. Finally went to bed at 1.20am.

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Friday September 9, 1977

Busy at the YP. Just Kathleen and I. However, after eight hours toiling we were still living and I was out and finished for the weekend.

Tony took John and Maria to Blackpool for the day, and he rang at 6 to say he'd be over in a couple of hours with Martyn. To the Harrogate Arms where we met Naomi, Carolle Jones, Graham Peel, the Royal We, Carole, Fogarty, Dave Lazenby, Ron (Denise's Ron), and others. I just didn't feel right. Was sick to death of everyone. __________. Miss Phillips was a pain in the neck. Why does she have to be so bloody childish? Oh, what does it matter anyway? In 200 years time who'll give a damn? Three pints later we left for home.I informed them of my visit to Harewood next Friday. They want tickets too, but when I say they're £8 they fall into a silence. I say I'm staying in tomorrow, but neither believed me I think.

Mum and Dad were watching an ancient film 'Family Way' and I plonked myself down with them.

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Wednesday September 7, 1977

A busy day. Carol J is off with some mysterious disease ___________, and Sarah is a complete misery and goes home at 4 feeling off it. When she gets low she really does just that. ______.

TUC conference.

The newspapers today are quite void of news other than the insane ramblings of the TUC at their Blackpool conference. When I'm the absolute power in this land that little organisation is one which will be liquidated straight away, no messing, despite the fact that I am a member of the National Graphical Association, or something equally hideous.

Tony phoned and asked if I fancied going with him and Naomi to visit Steve Hailes in hospital. I declined the invitation because no doubt the hospital visit will have culminated in some sort of liquid excercise which I can ill afford. He quite understood.

Martyn came at 9 to have Sue cut his hair, leaving shortly afterwards with a far more groomed appearance. Good old Martyn. Lynn is getting on my nerves. ________________________. David came up tonight, Dave B, that is. ___________.

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Sunday September 4, 1977

13th after Trinity. Yes, Naomi and I put up a Christmas tree and decorated it with newspaper. Oh what a state it was in this morning. I was actually beginning to believe that the festive season was upon us.

with Martyn at Bolton Abbey.

Tony and Martyn came at about 3. I wasn't all that talkative. Wendy, Georgina and G's sister (I've forgotten her bloody name) joined us in Ilkley and we motored to Bolton Abbey for the remaining portion of the afternoon. We walked by the river taking the occasional silly photograph and then went for a riotous cup of tea and a bun at the Bolton Abbey Cafe. My ginger cake was a collector's piece - mid 18th century, I think..

We returned to the flat for cheese on toast and then shot off to the Craven Heifer for a hectic, hot, and horribly sticky night out. It was like the 1975 London Tube Disaster all over again - only worse. We were crammed in a corner away from the music and the dirty jokes. By now I was decidedly dull-witted and uncommunicative. Home at midnight. Everyone nicely tucked up in bed except Mummy and Daddy who are visiting Uncle Harry in Cumbria (since Saturday noon) and I do the same. Retire that is.

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Saturday September 3, 1977

Eileen and Michael's wedding day. David B and I went to see Sarah & Delia at 12 and we took photos of the dogs on the Collis's spacious lawn. From here we went to the Queen's Arms just for one solitary drink. I haven't been in the Queen's for a couple of years, in fact since the pub crawl with Sarah and Carol J when I proposed marriage, amongst other things, to Miss Collis.

Left David at about 1pm and went to the YP to collect Kathleen. Together we went to Mirfield and the Dusty Miller pub for a few more. We arrived at the church at 2 o'clock just as Eileen arrived on the arm of her father. By 2.30 they were married. At the reception I was on a table with Delia, Sarah, Kathleen and Steve (the lad from the stag party). Eileen looked very happy.

Delia brought me home at 5.30 and tonight Dave B and I went to the Malt Shovel at Baildon. Joined by Tony and Martyn and at 11.30 we collected Naomi and went to a barbecue at Carlton. John and Maria were there. On to Il Trovatore where Naomi and I danced with a string of tinsel. When she brought me home at 2.30 we put up the Christmas decorations.

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Thursday September 1, 1977

Michael Robertshaw's stag part. Martyn is 19 today. They picked me up on the lane at 7.40am and he thanked me for the silly birthday card.

Martyn: 19th birthday.

Tonight: Eileen took me to Michael's house at Mirfield where I stayed to tea. His grandmother, widow of a miner, told me she's 86 and a native of Hull.

Out at 7.30pm with about eight of his friends and the orgy of drunkenness spread to Huddersfield and the Amsterdam Bar, which was riotous. Full of transvestites and other bawdy, dangerous types. From here we staggered to a discotheque where everything is a blurred mass. Remember smoking and throwing up in a sub-way. we seemed to have lost more than half the lads in the disco and only Mick, Stephen, Dave (Mick's brother-in-law) and I arrived home together.

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Sunday August 28, 1977

12th after Trinity.  An article of the Sunday Trash says our dear Princess Margaret is suffering from porphyria, the 'Royal Malady', and it says this accounts for her irrational behaviour and the break down of her marriage. Utter and complete rubbish I'm glad to say.

Dave G, Dave B, Lynn, Sue, Peter N, and I went to the Commercial from 12 until 2. Joined later by Mum and Dad who bump into cousin Brian (Myers) and Valerie in a dark corner and chat with them for over an hour. Valerie is very attractive, but childless. They have no news of Jennifer (Myers) and her imminent delivery. No doubt Auntie Mabel will be informed of the news when it occurs.

Redgrave & Jackson.

A hot, sunny afternoon. We sat outside discussing friendship, and particularly, Glenn. Back at Pine Tops, very hot weather, we sprawl on the lawns and muck about in deckchairs. Hilarious afternoon.

After 'Sunday dinner' we collapsed in the lounge. Joined by Martyn. We just watched TV. 'Mary Queen of Scots' starring Vanessa Redgrave and Glenda Jackson.

Everyone laughs at Dave G. He's so funny. The ladies especially rock with laughter. Lynn made a pile of sandwiches and then we watched another film, a romance set in the 16th century. Quite good, but too sloppy.

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Saturday August 27, 1977

Stuart (Newton) and Christine (White) were married at St John's (church), Yeadon, at 2pm. We only just made it to the ceremony after a somewhat farcical chase across Aireborough, and our arrival at the church coincided with that of the bridesmaids and other important personages.

Stuart & Christine

Sue, Pete N and I sat with Messers Ratcliffe and Mather, and Lynn and Dave B sat warbling behind. Christine looked very nice, Stuart looked petrified. A horrible sight to see a man so frightened. We needed a 'Scarlet Pimpernel' figure to perhaps come and rescue him.

The reception at the Colours Restaurant at Horsforth went off brilliantly. Home at about 7pm nicely stewed. David G arrived at Pine Tops just as we got in. His Ibiza pictures are incredible. Martyn joined us at 9 and we went back to Horsforth to continue the festivities, the happy couple having left for Scarborough some hours previously. More drink in larger quantities. Mrs White is a darling and I gave her a large kiss on leaving. Chatted with Linda and Andy. Very congenial.

Took Martyn to Ilkley and then entertained Dave G to 'home brew' until some ridiculous hour of the morning. Why do we do such things? Agreed, it's my Plantagenet nature peeping through from the depths of the Middle Ages. Edward III liked the occasional beer, you know.

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Wednesday August 24, 1977

A wet, November-type of day. The YP was uneventful and sombre. However, tonight is the thing to discuss. Martyn and I went to the Bod by good old bus, and a wet one at that and met Wendy (age aprrox. 27 years) and Anne (age unknown, but slightly younger than Wendy). After just one paltry drink we went by taxi to Annabella's, which I immediately recognised from the the only other occasion I had been there some 2 years ago (it was Christmas 1975, with Carole, on a coach party organised by David from Hawksworth Lane.)

We all ate, drank and danced marvellously. I gave a demonstration of my party piece, and a skilled one, of letting down inflated, knotted balloons. No one, it appears, has seen this done before. I managed to save at least 2 dozen of these gaily coloured objects which had throughout the evening given the effect of the January Sales in a nudist camp.

I must stress that neither Martyn or I  consumed excessive amounts of alcohol. You can believe what you wish on this subject. Anne and I made hogs of ourselves attacking the buffet for 'seconds'. The 2 anonymous Smiths shop assistants joined us and the Egyptian sand-dancing was started up again. We were in hysterics. Martyn and I home in a taxi at 1.30 which only cost us £1 each. Not bad.

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Tuesday August 23, 1977

Tony came at 7.30pm and after a coffee we went on to Ilkley so that I could gather together my personal effects before he is taken away to the sanatorium. It was good to lay hands on my Donna Summer LP again and the three quarter of a million singles I'd left there after the last party.

Tony lends me a volume of the works of Evelyn Waugh, which he sells through Octopus Books. When I said that Evelyn Waugh was a very humorous author he replied: "Was she?" Poor, demented lad.

Martyn joined us after 8 and we went to the Rose & Crown and then the Crescent. Only a few drinks. The main topic of conversation was Tony's forthcoming operation. God knows what he's having done. Veins and legs spring to mind.

Back to the flat for coffee and a few farewell photographs. We'll visit him on Friday before nipping over to the Bod for our traditional skin-full. Perhaps Mary will be in?

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