Wednesday November 15, 1978

Phoned Christine and asked her what she was planning to do next Monday. Unfortunately, she has been invited to a party, but the sadness soon turned to joy and thanksgiving when we discovered ~ to our delight ~ that we have been invited to one and the same function. The so-called buxom Jill ~ whoever she is ~ deserves some kind of payment for managing to throw CB and me together on a Monday evening.

Lynn phoned me. __________________________.

Jacq and I went to the Ostler's at 1pm for revolting toasted cheese sandwiches and warm lager. __________________.

John phoned tonight. It was good to hear him. He was cheerful and blustery. The caravan is bearing up and hasn't collapsed yet. He wanted to know when we are going north to see him. Susan and Pete always decline to discuss the venture. We really must go before December.

-=-

Monday October 23, 1978

An article in one of the bawdy newspapers said that our own dear Prince of Wales leads a very normal and active sex life. I never imagined for one minute that Davina Sheffield was merely his partner at billiards. However, discussing the sexual antics of our heir apparent is quite simply not on.

This afternoon Jacq and I went to the Ostlers. For some reason I had to get out of the office. Sarah was being particularly painful. She is always very trying after a riotous weekend. Like a baby, she is sulky, bad tempered and tired.

Alison and Mrs Dixon phoned and spoke to Lynn and Mum. Alison has asked Lynn to go down and see her. She and David are going on Thursday. Even Dave is looking pale and emotional about it all. He was quite fond of John P. _________.

Saw a Robert Mitchum film tonight and went to bed at about 11. Read The Duke and Duchess of Windsor by Ralph G. Martin (again). The poor old Duchess (of Windsor) is on her last legs in Paris. The powers to be down at Thames Television are no doubt praying for her end to come to coincide with the start of the tv series "Edward and Mrs Simpson".

-=-

Thursday October 19, 1978

King John died seven hundred and sixty two years ago today, and blimey, Newark Castle, Notts, appears to have been the fortunate spot selected for this event.

Jacq and I had a meeting at the Ostlers.

Margaret and Jim tonight again. A very drunken occasion. For some daft reason Mama was drinking Pernod, and she and Jim were staggering by 11 o'clock. Pete joined us too, and he was worse for wear. A burst of dancing broke out in the dining room, but I declined Mama's frequent invitations to get up off my backside and 'groove it'.

Obviously, after the guests had departed in the small hours Mum was taken ill. Her reaction to the massive quantity of Pernod was to do what Lord Nelson always did when he was aboard HMS Victory. Yes, she threw up.

(I bet you thought I was going to say she found an eye patch and paced up and down the bridge saying "I see no ships. Hic" Alas, no).

-=-

Thursday October 12, 1978

Feel shattered and quite depressed. I could have ignored the alarm clock and rolled over, but no I had to do my duty.

At 1pm I met Jacq and dragged her to the Ostlers for a few lagers. Saw a wondrous shirt in Irvine Sellers and the divine Miss Sate pulled out her Barclaycard and she lavished £9 on me. Of course I will repay her in full.

Back at the office I inspected my shirt only to discover with horror that it's the wrong size. So at 5 o'clock I was back in town and a swap was negotiated with some blank, dull assistant. Tortuous journey home and I fell through the door at 6.

Mum and Dad seemed to be quite normal. I saw no suitcases packed and waiting &c. Margaret, Jim and Julie came up at 9.

I didn't drink this evening. To bed at 12. Dad slept in his bed. The bathroom stood empty and forlorn tonight.

-=-

Monday August 21, 1978

Mrs Christine Newton, Princess Margaret and the Hon Gerald Lascelles are leaping around in their carpet slippers today tearing open birthday cards & presents, and devouring large chunks of iced fruit cake. I haven't laid eyes on Mrs Newton since the day of her marriage in August last year. She may be dead. She may be expecting a multiple birth to fill the bedrooms of her pleasant semi-detached property.

Sarah was taken ill at the YP with pains in her chest (again). She looked awfully pale. At 10 we kicked her off home. She told me that my letter to Delia from Nunwoman, Leaper and Nunwoman Solicitors had Barbara Wheeler wetting herself yesterday.

Met Jacq for lunch at the Ostlers for a few pints and cheeseburgers. The friendly, neolithic bar~tender, who is deaf as a post, always brings the wrong food and drink. Jacq, for instance, had a brandy and Babycham followed by a Gin Fizz ~ and we only ordered lager.

Tonight: with Dad, Dave and Lynn to Lawn Road. I made a start 'emulsioning' the lounge. Worked until 10:30.

John called to see Mama tonight. He moves to Stranraer in two weeks and starts his new job on September 11.

-=-

Tuesday August 15, 1978

A humid, thundery day. The morning papers have photographs of Princess Anne and Peter Phillips spread thickly about, on this HRH's 28th birthday. It is a disgrace that Her Majesty's grandson is of no higher rank than a British Railways ticket collector or lowly road sweeper. Even the cleaning lady with 50 years' service at Montague Burton's and awarded the B.E.M is of greater rank. Poor little chap. However, it is a sign of the times I do suppose.

Sarah was in a strange mood today. I saw her laughing and squealing in the company of John Mac. God knows what became of this so-called estrangement.

Met Jacq at lunchtime and we had a couple of drinks at the Ostlers. She gave me some Royal Albert china for mother. I told her I'm working on Friday night. At least we'll have a cheap weekend. On Saturday we plan to see Lord Olivier in 'The Betsy' a film from the Harold Robbins book of the same name. I read the book about six years ago. Sir Laurence plays his first movie sex scenes with 'Roxanne' the French maid. Whatever next?

Tonight I went with Jim Nason to Lawn Road and bashed around on the staircase for a couple of hours. Lynn, Dave, Mum and Dad went to the Cow & Calf Hotel to sort out the wedding reception and Jim and I met them at the Red Lion for a couple of drinks at 10:15. Lynn was slightly pissed and went straight up to bed on her arrival home.

Wedding fever is choking us all. I'm sure Lynn's sickness this evening was just as just excitement as alcohol. A man in a Jag followed her at walking pace down the lane this morning with eyes and everything else bulging, heavy breathing, &c. The pervert obviously needs his extremities hacking off.

-=-

Thursday August 3, 1978

Jacq and I had a lunchtime drink at the Ostlers which was pleasant. She showed me a letter she has received from Gina inviting us both to RAF Benson for a weekend. Should be OK. Gina seemed like a very nice girl at our brief meeting in April.

Tonight is 'Margaret & Jim' night. Jim says he's related to the Bronte sisters but doesn't remember how exactly. He also says his mother's maiden name is Fowkes, an ancient Yorkshire surname which entitles him to bear arms, &c. I will do some research into this for him.

Poor Lynn is ill. She went to the doctor with chronic ear~ache this evening, and he partially syringed her ears and subsequently she came home in really bad pain. She was in tears at midnight. Jim went home for some pain~killers because we didn't have an asprin in the house, and she slept quite well after that. She suffered a few twinges at about 5 or 6am.

-=-

Friday June 9, 1978

Strangely enough I had no hangover when I climbed out of bed at 10:30 or 11 o'clock. Perhaps I warded off this malady due to the fact that I ate a sizeable plate of sandwiches (soaked in blood from my cut finger) washed down with coffee, orange squash, &c.

This morning Mother and Father are covered in dust demolishing the dining room. More decorating. After a small breakfast I left them to it and set out to meet Jacq in Leeds. There for 12:30. I have £3 to see me through to Thursday next week which made my journey seem futile. _____________. Jacq and I passed a serious, reflective afternoon in the Ostlers discussing previous relationships. It was interesting. I was just about in tears on the subject of June and my thwarted passion.

From the pub we went next door to the HMV shop and Jacq snatched up the old Barclaycard and bought the 'Saturday Night Fever' LP and the single 'Hey America' by Mr James Brown.

We walked around Leeds arm in arm. Do you know I am quite proud of my appearance these days. The days when Lynne Mather accused me of 'letting myself go' are now history. Clad in my tight jeans, black pointed boots and baggy Pete Holroyd shirt I llook like some stunning Romeo from the jet-set world.

However, to come down to earth and reality slightly, I worked from 5pm until midnight. Back to the old routine folks, and I quite enjoyed it. Jacq came into the YP at 6:30 and I entertained her with the picture files of the royal family until 9 o'clock when I threw her out. John Mac commented (jokingly) on her presence in the office and pointed out that NATSOPA wouldn't be amused if they knew I was entertaining a strawberry blonde. My response was that the editor has women in his office every day and that Lord Briginshaw can go piss off. (In case you're interested, Lord Briginshaw is a big noise in NATSOPA, reputedly a trade union). I left at midnight leaving the new records in the office.

-=-

Friday May 5, 1978

A wet day, again. I met Jacq at the Ostlers and I had a cheeseburger sandwich and consumed a moderate measure of ale. I intended buying a shirt for £10 but the shop only had the one on display and the nasty (shop) assistant was not prepared to take it from the window. It's probably a blessing because my finances are revoltingly low this week.

Tonight I met Jacq in the rain at 8:30 and we spent the evening at the Drop Inn. Christine and Mary came in for ten minutes at 10:30. We arranged to see Christine at the Fox tomorrow. _______________.

At 11pm we made our way homeward via Green Bottom fish and chip shop, and we sat playing records and drinking stout until a disgusting hour.

I really do think that Jacq should stop smoking. __________. Just think what her lungs will look like in a few years time if she continues this experiment of self-pollution. W.D. & H.O. Wills deserve to rot in Hell.




-=-

Thursday April 27, 1978

Lunch at the Ostlers with Jacq.

To Oakwood Hall tonight with Christine. First we went to the Hare & Hounds for one miserable drink in the company of poor Kathryn Young. No sighting of Judith, but I was told she was 'lurking' behind the bar with her 'young man'.

The night was an amusing one anyway. We laughed at the young boys who were attempting to imitate John Travolta whenever a Bee Gees record was played. "Oh, so you've seen the film too" was Christine's quip on the dance floor.

We didn't drink to excess. I drank cider. The lager was discarded completely. Home at nearly 2:0am. We caused a riot on the lane. Even Jim Rawnsley was awakened by the screams of laughter.

-=-

Tuesday April 25, 1978

Is this journal becoming increasingly boring? At twenty three I may well have lost my lustre. I only hope that you, dear reader, will bear with me through the morose flow of daily trivia. One must, above all things, take the rough with the smooth.

Anyway, Jacqueline Mary Sate and I did once again meet for light refreshment in the period of our lunchtime. The Ostlers is now a familiar scene on these filthy, soaking afternoons. ________________.

The diaries of Samuel Pepys are keeping me gripped to my chair. King Charles II is now firmly established upon his throne. It's a pleasure to read. Eleven years of Puritanical chaos must have been Hell for all normal, fun-loving souls. I, for one, would have taken a visa and escaped to Majorca until Mr Cromwell snuffed it.

-=-

Thursday April 20, 1978

Once again 'tis pay day for your humble narrator. Today, just in case you are interested, is the birthday of Adolf Hitler. He was born in 1889 and so you can work out for yourself just which birthday he is celebrating quietly in his Rio flat.

Jacq and I had a drink at the Ostlers at 12:45. Pleasant conversation flowed, as did the 2 pints of lager. I pulled her leg about her Cockney accent. Her interpretation of 'light ale' is a killer.

I prepared for my expedition to the southern counties. At 5 I went to John and Maria's but finding the house locked and shuttered I was compelled to go to the mill to dig him out of the sawdust.He took me back to Silverdale where I borrowed his grey suit (in fact it was originally my suit - see the end of 1975 for the purchase of this grotty, sack-like object).

Saw Carole and (Peter) Fogarty but nothing much was said. Carole, however, did colour up when our eyes met. I don't think I registered any emotion. Back home I thrust everything into my ruck-sack and all was ready.

Tonight, being Thursday, we were bombarded by Jim and Margaret Nason and the intrepid Edith and Ernest. _________. Afterwards Sue, Pete and I had a prawn curry with chips.

To bed at 1:0am.

-=-

Friday April 7, 1978

New Moon 6:15

Blimey, that girl Angie must either look very different in the dark, or I must have been very drunk last night. I think I know that answer, but this is hardly the place to elaborate. Anyway, you should know me by now enough to work this one out for yourselves. She (Angie) was OK but not particularly attractive, but even younger and shorter than I thought she was. And quite shy too. I cannot imagine what I found to say to her in a darkened corner of one of Oakwood Hall's many caverns, but I'm sad to say we had nothing in common to discuss today. After a couple of drinks at the Ostlers we parted and I gave her my phone number. I must be a bloody fool because I cannot imagine myself dashing to meet her again.

Met Jacq in Guiseley at 7:45 and went to the Drop where we were joined by Dave L, MM and Marita. Dave wasn't on top form and Marita moaned about feeling depressed. However, Jacq and I had a good time. She looked great in her all-in-one suit, the type of which I've never seen before. Tony, Pete M, Chris and Lynne Mather came in.


Jacq.


At 11:30 we realised Jacq had missed the bus to Leeds and so the two of us stormed 69, Silverdale Drive where we pestered John and Maria until dawn. John refused to get out of bed, but we kept Maria up until 4:30.

-=-

Tuesday July 5, 1977

Good weather continues but the forecast says it will change for the worst on Thursday. Who cares? With the coup d'etat in Pakistan we have far more important things to worry about.

The Ostlers.

Out at lunchtime to the Ostlers with Sarah. She and Peter B finished last night on a dramatic note - as her relationships always seem to end. Had 2 halves of lager and soaked up the details.

Comments on my haircut: Stephanie Ferguson says I look like something (note not somebody) from the Stranglers (a Punk Rock group) and later in the afternoon she toned it down to David Bowie. Sarah spoiled it all and crumbled my ego by saying I looked like 'the queer waiter at the Damn Yankee'.

Rang Carole at 2 and had it out with her. I said all the things that have been on my mind all weekend but left out the most pointed abuse because she said she was going to cry. We both blamed each other and then _____________. I called her all the names under the sun (except the really rude ones for some gentleman-like romantic reason) and arranged to go out with her on Thursday. Or perhaps I should say I decided we were going out on Thursday. She's bringing my T-shirt with her. Oh, it's all so mixed up, isn't it? My love life, or lack of it, is far from stable. Am I jinxed?

Cut the lawns tonight. Dave B came and took Lynn to her shift at the Hare - I went with them and on with Dave to George Waite's on business. Back to the Hare at 9 for the last hour. Naomi was quite chatty and says she'll send a postcard to Ibiza.

-=-

Tuesday May 18, 1976

A warm, pleasant day. Go into town at lunchtime and collect the two Elton John records and at the same time order 'Make Me Smile' by Cockney Rebel for Christine. Why can't a chap buy a ladyfriend a gift occasionally? Nip unaccompanied into the Ostlers and have a couple of lagers.

Main topic at work is the coming events of Saturday night. Darryl Wills says he's coming when he hears that Sarah is attending. If she brings Peter, her boyfriend, we'll all be done for, but knowing Sarah I can see her turning up in a single capacity just to please me (wishful thinking).

Mr Monkman was buried today at 2.30. Dad and Ernest Blackwell represented the Hawksworth Lane residents, but I didn't fancy the idea at all. Funerals are not things one should rush into are they?

David rings at 7 o'clock to say his Dad is in hospital following a mild heart attack! God Almighty! That family is in a bad state! Mr Lawson always appears to be such a healthy chap too. He comes up to our place at 8.30 (David) and we go to the Queen's on Apperley Lane to meet Marita and Denise for a few drinks. It made a change going out on a Tuesday. We had a few laughs. David goes back into hospital on Friday and doesn't think he'll be well enough to come on Saturday.

-==-

Friday May 14, 1976

Eileen and I go to the Ostlers at 1pm for yet another 'liquid' lunch. We havn't been out together for quite a long time and it certainly made a change. Leave work at 4.30 for yet another weekend.

David, out of hospital, collects me at 8 o'clock and we go to the Hare & Hounds. Christine Dibb and her boyfriend are holding court, and Judith R and Kathryn are in. J offered her condolences about Carole. I feel nervous and peculiar because I know Miss Phillips will be coming in. She arrives with Chris and says hello quite cordially. They're followed by Andy, Linda, Pete M and Denise, and then Keith B and John and Maria. CB comes in with Roger. Poor David cannot touch alcohol before Christmas and even after that he'll never be allowed to get pissed again. Horrific isnt it? He drank tomato juice, but this disagreed with him, and he had to drink water. We decide to go see Liza Minelli in 'Cabaret' tomorrow.

Move on to the Black Bull in Otley. ______________________________.

--==--

Thursday May 13, 1976

Pay day. Meet Dave B for lunch at the Ostlers. Purchase the LP 'Elton John's Greatest Hits' and ordered 'Island Girl' and 'Someone Saved My Life Tonight'. Busy time really. Lunch 12.30-2pm. Writing it all in brief because I cannot be bothered with detail. Home on train at 6pm and hear that Harry Monkman died at Falmouth in the night. I last spoke to him a week last Wednesday when he passed comment that his lawn was in a far better condition than ours. He'd just put tons of fertilizer all over his, at great expense, and I'm saddened that he'll never see the lush growth that his labours will undoubtedly produce. He must have been 80, and I feel a bit sorry for Maud, who is almost blind. I was never fond of him.

Ring Dave L who came out of hospital today. He will be out and about tomorrow night - but no alcohol whatsoever. Glad he's home. Probably going to see 'Cabaret' on Saturday. Dave B brings me the 'Who Loves You' LP from Denise. She bought me it in return for the Cow & Calf excursion last week. Play both LPs - they're really great.

Hear that Uncle Peter came for lunch today. He's brilliant - salt of the earth.

-==-

Monday April 5, 1976

Historic day today. My 21st birthday and the departure of Uncle Harold from No. 10 Downing Street.

Lynn got me out of bed at 7.30 and I didn't feel in a birthday spirit really. She gave a beautiful clock and Susan gives me £5 - good of them.

Work was boring and my mind kept wandering to thoughts of poor Carole suffering with her bruises and scars.

Meet Carole near the Ostlers at 1pm, and although she's covered in make-up, I can still see the bruising. She gives me a (birthday) card from her mother which has £2 tucked in the front. Hypocritical keeping it? No, we spend it on booze. Why not get as much as we can out of the bastards whilst we can?

Home at 4 o'clock on the 33 bus & I teach Carole the words of '21 Today', &c, which raised a few laughs.

Susan tells me that Callaghan is the new Prime Minister. I feel a great sense of loss by Harold's departure. I'm far from being a Labour voter, but that little man with the black bags under his eyes and smouldering pipe, inspires me somewhat.

Party at Pine Tops for my birthday. Cut a birthday cake. John, Maria, Carole, Lynn, Dave, Sue & Peter, Mum and Dad. Lots of booze and chicken and chips. Carole still very quiet and looks so miserable. She's obviously ill.

Carole stays the night - 5 nights running.

-==-

Wednesday December 3, 1975

The weather was a bit improved today. Basil, the postman, had to admit the the sunrise was one of the best he's ever seen.

I propelled myself in a Leeds direction by train this morning. Jim Rawnsley must have died or something because I haven't laid eyes on him since Friday. Not to worry. He was old anyway.

I met Douglas, from next door, at the station and remind him of our boozing date at 1 o'clock. He says he'll come, but doesn't look all that certain.

Meet Dave outside the Ostlers at 1 o'clock and he says that Douglas isn't coming. After one drink we decide to go round the shops and look for Lynn's present. Dave kept drifting towards windows full of engagement rings, and I kept having to bring the poor lad back to his senses. However, when the day eventually dawns when he and Lynn want to make fools of themselves at the altar I certainly won't haul him away from the ring shops because he will make a good brother-in-law. Do I hear wedding bells? (I know you're all bloody sick of me throwing in that cliche, so why don't any of you have the guts to admit it?)

At home tonight I busy myself industriously. Press trousers by the score and take up the hem (of a pair of trousers). Carole rang at least three times (bless her) and I am disturbed to hear that her brother has hit her and given her a bruising. The swine will feel the full weight of my fist in his throat if he does so much as raise his fist in her direction again. These 16 year-old adolescents want watching good and proper.

I sit down and watch the 10 o'clock news on ITV which is appallingly done (or is it apallingly?) It was badly done anyway. It may sound snobbish and 'Olde Worlde' but it takes a lot to beat the good old BBC. I could read the news better than Reginald Bosanquet and Sandy Gall put together, and in saying that I'm insulting myself really. John Snagge would turn in his grave if he were dead.


-==-

Monday July 7, 1975

The weather has changed. Heavy cloud everywhere, and I'm of the mind that summer for another year is over.

Went to the Ostlers at 12 with Sarah for a few drinks. I thought somehow that I'd be embarrassed facing her after professing my undying love for her, but I feel nothing of the kind. She said that the only thing which prevented her coming home with me was the fact that she was working on Saturday morning. This sounds feeble, considering that I would go to the end of the earth for her if she asked me to, but we all love one another in different ways, don't we? The Ostlers was quiet and we didn't see David. I'll say just one more thing today. Sarah is gorgeous.

Historic evening: Mum and Dad went out for a drink and came back with the news that Dad is going to resign from the police force and they are going to apply for a pub somewhere. No doubt the chief constable will be besides himself with grief when he hears the news. It's no use him thinking about the chief's feelings. If Dad isn't happy he should hand in his helmet and collect his cards. A pub will of course mean bye bye to Pine Tops - our home for five years - but Mum says she's always been a wanderer, and five years in one place is probably as much as she can tolerate.

Bed at 12 after the Family Council fell through.

-==-