Thursday June 29, 1978

St Peter

Pay day. Met Jacq at her place at lunchtime and we managed to walk round town without resorting to having a drink. She went to Barclays and drew out more cash and I took a film to be developed at Gratispool's and ordered my £90 holiday money from the bank in Park Square.

Back at the office I altered my wall chart showing the order of succession to the throne. Prince Michael is wiped from the list from tomorrow and Princess Alexandra moves up from the 17 position to number 16. ______.

Tonight: The Nasons and Blackwells made their weekly visit to Pine Tops. We had a subdued evening watching television and Ern especially was a misery. This house buying and associated upheaval at his advanced age (he's 71) is a mistake. It's a wicked thing to say but I'm sure one of them will not live a year to reap the enjoyment ~ if any ~ of living in ghastly Devon. Cream teas and all that.

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Tuesday December 23, 1975

I am infuriated by an article in todays Daily Telegraph. Several Labour MPs feel that Princess Anne should be second in line of succession to the throne, instead of fourth. They think her case should be taken before the Equal Opportunities Commission and that it would be a fine gesture if the Queen was to decree that her daughter, and all future royal princesses, should be given precedence in order of birth and not by sexual limitation. It is a futile and ridiculous idea.

I've never thought of myself as a male chauvenist pig before, but it seems I'm going to be classed as one if I continue in this present line of thought.

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Tuesday April 17, 1973

June did not ring me. However, she did send me a lovely letter, to which I replied immediately. She must have forgotten about ringing me - she is always telling me how scatter-brained she is. But I love her and would never have her change. Got up at 10 o'clock. Dad was painting the side door, and the girls were having breakfast - the weather is perfect. I read June's letter and reply immediately. By 12 o'clock she still had not phoned.

Had mutton for lunch. Mum and the girls went to Bradford. Dad went to work. I was left alone with Sir Anthony Eden, or should I say Lord Avon, plus my awful doubt. Why has June not phoned? What can I have done wrong? I am like a big kid. She would laugh if she knew I was worrying over her. At 2.10 I beging seriously reading Eden. What a terrible way to spend a beautiful Spring afternoon!

She rang at 4. How relieved and thrilled I was to hear her voice. We are meeting at the Emmotts at 7.30 tomorrow. The pips came much too soon. I blew a kiss down the phone. Swoon, Swoon, Pant, Pant, Swoon, etc.

Tried to settle back down with Eden and the rearmament thing of the early 1930s. Oh, how happy I am! John came home at about 5.30 followed by Mum and the girls, and they were followed by Dad. We had tea. By 7.30 I was back at the Chuck Wagon, where it was unusually busy for a Tuesday night. Came home at 11.30 and had a discussion with Susan about the order of succession to the Throne. I told her how silly it was to say that it should go in order of birth regardless of sex, and not by the usual male first. If this idea had been in operation in 1901 then Queen Victoria would have been succeeded by the Empress Frederick who would have been Queen Victoria II from January to August and then succeeded by her son, King William V (aka Kaiser Wilhelm II of Germany). Not a very satisfactory idea is it?


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