Wednesday March 10, 1976

Mum woke me at 6am while she was struggling to the bathroom on one leg like Long John Silver. Of all the times to be rendered crippled! I can forsee her being carried down the aisle on a stretcher on Saturday which, if nothing else, will raise a few laughs from our sadistic, insane family.

It rains slightly as Jim and I drive to Leeds but it clears up. I hate rain.

It is rewarding to see the Union Jack hoist up outside the YP because I am responsible for supplying Tom Lambert with the up-to-date list of flag flying days. Today is Prince Edward's 12th birthday. If I hadn't stopped him Tom would have had the flag fluttering on the mast on March 31 for Prince Henry, Duke of Gloucester. When Tom asked me why we don't fly it for Henry anymore I had to answer in very simple terms: 'He's dead Tom, that's why.'

Home for chicken which was cooked by Dad. John is still behaving strangely and is very bad tempered. Must be his way of showing he's just as nervous as the rest of us.

The wedding rehearsal tonight at Burley-in-Wharfedale, but when we get to the church it is all in darkness. John comes tearing down the road to say it's all off. We think he means the wedding is off, but it's only the rehearsal. Father Scannell has forgotten all about it and has gone off with his brother. The silly old boy is over 70 and seems to be on the verge of senility.

John, Lynn and I go in the spitfire to the Hare. We are all nostalgic. Lynn says it's the last pre-wedding drink we'll have together. The three of us then went to Maria's and chat until 11.30 or so.

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