Wednesday February 8, 1978

First Day in Lent. Ash Wednesday.

I am giving up spending money for Lent. Yes, I intend saving over £100. OK, you don't believe me but I'm going to show you just what willpower I do have.

Lady Jane Spencer.

Quite an ordinary sort of day. In 'The Times' engagements section I see that Lady Sarah Spencer's sister, Lady Jane, is to marry Robert Fellowes, assistant private secretary to the Queen. I passed this info on to Fred, who will do something for the YP 'People' column tomorrow. I bet Nigel Dempster and William Hickey will do something on this tomorrow. Is Lady Sarah going to take the plunge with HRH and make it a double event? This will be the theme.

Feel buggered and slightly dead. Because of this I have changed from red ink to this suitably sombre black. At home this evening I couldn't be bothered to do a single thing. Was tempted by an Alfred Hitchcock film on the BBC, but dozed in the chair like an octogenarian whilst the bulk of the murders were being carried out.

I have received a Valentine's card from WPC Carolle Jones. Yeah, a week early too. I quiver when I think of the recent night we spent in Burley in Wharfedale after Naomi's party. I like WPC Jones very much. She arouses in me some neolithic feelings that lay dormant when she is away back on the beat. Cor, I've never been out with a policewoman before. Penelope Keith's gone a step further and married a detective constable.


-=-

Monday February 6, 1978

Accession of Queen Elizabeth II

National Day (New Zealand)

Slings it down with rain all day.Horribly damp. At lunch time I went into town and spent £25 on a pair of boots. First I cashed a cheque for £100 and for the first time in many months I felt like Stavros Niarchos.

I attempted to phone Jacqui but her line was constantly engaged. Ah well, never mind. Work was really dead.

Mrs J is _______________.

Just watched TV tonight. That was after splashing around in the bath and 're assembling' my bedroom from the devastation of 'Our David' at the weekend. The delightful Hilda Ogden on Coronation Street, and a blood thirsty film of the 'Wild West' were the only items of interest. Could not be bothered watching any of the current affairs programs and I ignored the 9 o'clock news. I've had enough of Dr (David) Owen and the affair of the poisoned Jaffas &c.

Retired to bed at 12:00 with Baroness Orczy. Blimey, Silver Jubilee Year ended officially today. Her Majesty's been on the throne for 26 years. God Bless Her! Meanwhile: on the slopes of an Austrian mountain the Prince of Wales is paying court to Lady Sarah Spencer, 22 year-old daughter of Earl Spencer. I'd better leave it at this because my comments will only destroy my reputation as the world's leading authority on royal affairs.

-=-

Tuesday January 24, 1978

A provisional booking has been made at the Hotel S'Estanyol, San Antonio, but on the far side of the bay. Michelle's done really well to find places for 7 of us when everything is so booked up. I phoned Dave G who likes the idea but is unhappy with the flight times (1:30am going out, and 7:30am returning). Martyn is a different kettle of fish though. _____________.He is also unhappy with the dates (July 7-July 21) and says he'd prefer to go at the end of July. __________.

Got a letter from Jacqui. The party is still set for Feb 4, and Peter Sate's party is on March 18. I replied, but only in brief. I was in no corresponding frame of mind today.

Lady Jane Wellesley and the Prince of Wales.

Interesting items: Lady Jane Wellesley has been at Sandringham with the Prince of Wales over the weekend and was ferried about with much secrecy by the Queen. Will HRH be spliced by his 30th birthday? Oh God. After all I've said about Lady Jane. Poor Davina Sheffield - I always thought she would make a lovely fixture on the palace balcony.

Other news: Margaret Thatcher's voice has altered radically in recent times. In her three years as Conservative party leader the pitch of Mrs T's voice has changed from that high-pitched school ma'am drawl to one of depth, humour and level headedness. Am I perhaps imagining this?

Bed at 12 with Lord Peter Wimsey.

-=-

Tuesday December 20, 1977

Prince of Wales: sworn of the Privy Council.

_.Phoned Jacqui to say thank you. She says she's coming from Dec 30 to Jan 3. I hope Mama will not be upset by this arrangement.

The Prince of Wales became a member of the Privy Council today. I have always assumed that he's been a PC since becoming 18 in 1966. Wrong again, Michael.



-=-

Tuesday October 18, 1977

For the sake of history I'll just mention the West German hijacking rescue which took place in Somalia at one o'clock this morning. All 86 hostages were freed and three of the four terrorists involved were executed. The three leaders of the Baader-Meinhof terrorist gang 'committed suicide' early this morning in Frankfurt's top security prison.

The only other news of importance today is that the Prince of Wales is in the USA on an official visit. No doubt little Amy Carter fancies her chances. The work going on at Princess Anne's Gatcombe Park is finished and is now ready for the royal occupants, &c.

I haven't mentioned any of the items here previously because quite frankly when one is in the employment of a newspaper one tends to ignore the news and writing about newsy things is 'talking shop' don't you think? Besides, why should I worry you with the nasty news items of the nineteen seventies? You have much more to worry about down in the 21st century with your nuclear wars and loaves of bread costing £2,000 each.

I wrote to Helen (Malin) in Gloucester saying I will send her the £1 I owe her on the day that the royal baby is born. I also wrote a note to David just to let him know that although he's deserted me I have no intention of doing the same to him.

John (Grady) told me that when Chris and Pete were over in Rawtenstall on October 1st they told him how quiet and morose I had become of late. Me? Quiet and morose? I'm the bloody life and soul and always will be. ____________. I just give up, I really do.

Martyn phoned at 9 and seemed to be much better.

Papa seems to have made the discovery of a wonderful strange jar which would convert into an ideal lamp. However, he wants to make wine in it. This brewing is rapidly taking over the lives of my dear parents. I think it is ever such a good idea.

-=-

Tuesday September 6, 1977

Lady Jane Wellesley

Chatting with Uncle Harry tonight we decided to form a new political party. The National Rhodes Party, or the NRP. I'm going to be chancellor, Mum is going to put on her big hat and make history by being the first woman Home Secretary, and Uncle H is earmarked for Prime Minister. The small moustache and grey hair are his credentials. We haven't yet decided just what job Dad will fill, but no doubt we'll come up with something. A good idea, don't you think? We would do a damn sight better than Mr Callaghan and Company, of this I'm sure.


The YP was up to its usual standard. Kathleen was a pain in the neck and Sarah was in a ghastly mood all day. So we had quite a cheerful time of it.

Harry: Prime Minister.

One of the papers (the Sun, I think) says Lady Jane Wellesley is back on the scene with the Prince of Wales. The woman is in her 27th year and I hardly think she's up to any rigorous sessions of child-bearing which will of course be necessary if she marries the heir. Besides, we don't want a Queen with ________.Will she do for Prince Andrew, perhaps?


Watched TV tonight. Mum, Dad and Harry went to the Commercial for a quick one, and it was on their arrival home at 10.30 that the plans for Britain's new political leadership emerged.

-=-

Wednesday August 3, 1977

Dave Glynn's 23rd birthday. I must give him a buzz to organise the holiday reunion party. We can't lose contact with dear John, Steve and Noel. Stayed in bed until after 9 o'clock. After all, I didn't get in until 5.30. I cannot be expected to have a mere two hours sleep and then roll into the office. I phoned Sarah to break the news of my absence and she was quite chirpy and nice. "I hope you'll soon be better" she chirped.

Lady Sarah Spencer: no beauty.

Frank Perfect, the husband of the sweet, little old lady from Westgate, Tranmere Park, who befriended me in my newspaper delivery days, is dead. I haven't seen either of them for two or three years, but they took a real shine to me and always made me feel welcome. He was only 62. He was the general factory manager of J.I. Case Co Ltd, manufacturers of construction equipment, and in charge of their Leeds plant since 1964. Perhaps I should send Mrs P a letter or something.

The Prince of Wales Romance Stakes are opening again. We now have three candidates in the running (according to the beloved Press). They are: Davina Sheffield, Princess Marie-Astrid and the Lady Elizabeth Sarah Lavinia Spencer. Lady Sarah is a daughter of the 8th Earl Spencer and is step-daughter of Raine, Countess Spencer, who was previously Lady Dartmouth. Her ancestors include at least three dukes, Marlborough, Abercorn and Bedford, and the Earls of Lucan crop up once or twice in her lineage. However, she is no beauty. After the gorgeous Davina Sheffield I'm afraid it's all down hill as far as I'm concerned. I just don't know what HRH must be thinking. A big, stately home in Kent standing empty (Chevening), just waiting for the feminine touch of some willowy princess, but he's making no attempt to provide the nation with one. The Duke of Edinburgh once made a speech about 'pulling the finger out', well I think he should get onto his eldest son.

-=-

Friday June 17, 1977

Awoke in chaos at 7.15. Karen (Cole) is on the rampage screaming at Martyn for sleeping in. Mick Stirling, Richard Brabiner and Julie Webster are in residence and must have come back after we'd retired. Martyn and Karen argued like cat and dog. She took Martyn to work at 7.30 and Richard Brabiner to his place of employment. __________.Mick Stirling tells me he drinks six pints of milk a day. Such a vast quantity cannot be beneficial, surely? I'm home by 7.50 and as I step down the garden path I see Jim preparing to leave. Took breakfast with Lynn and Sue and then they bombed off in the spitfire at 8.30.

Princess Marie-Astrid.

Hear on the radio that the palace have denied that an engagement is on the cards between the Prince of Wales and Princess Marie-Astrid of Luxembourg. This must mean it's a spring wedding 1978 style. What do you think? No doubt by the time you read this the fair haired Serene Highness is the dear old Queen Mother, eh?

To Silverdale Drive at lunchtime to see John, Maria and JPH. The baby is thriving and is endowed with a profusion of teeth but takes quite some time to recognise his haggard uncle. The unfortunate child hasn't seen me since God knows when. John went to work after his lunch and Maria, baby and I went into Guiseley. We phoned Carole who told Maria she's going out with Fogarty tonight 'because he knows how to treat a girl properly'.

Out tonight with Martyn, Sue and Pete N, first to the Fox & Hounds and then (aargh yes) to the Hare. Martyn looking for a female he's had his eye on. She wasn't anywhere to be seen. Judith apologised to me for not contacting me in over a month. Blimey, it was me who cleared off without so much as a word, but I didn't let on.

Back to Pine Tops. Fell to sleep in the chair. Completely shagged out.

-=-

Monday May 23, 1977

Dull, overcast day. The YP wasn't in any way exciting and so I won't bother you with any of the miserable details.

At tea time I see Mum and Dad for the first time since Saturday morning. She went to Molly & Jim's last night to meet Hugh. They are full of tales of JPH and go into raptures about his overnight stay at Pine Tops on Saturday night.

Just watch soddin' TV in the evening. Feature film 'One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich' based on the book by Solzenhitsyn - and not a very pleasant day for Ivan either. All it was really was some poor buggers digging holes in sub zero temperatures and eating fish heads and rabbit entrails.

The Prince of Wales was invested with the Order of the Thistle in Edinburgh this morning and I suspect that the Queen and the Queen Mother won't be feeling all that happy because BOTH their detectives, Sir Edward Perkins, KCVO and Chief Supt Sumner, have dropped dead on the Scottish visit over the weekend. A bit too much of a coincidence I fear.

Lynn is enjoying things at the Hare & Hounds, but I'm determined to avoid the place. It's been three weeks now and I haven't missed it, or any of it's inmates. A complete change was what I needed and I am enjoying it thoroughly.

-==-

Tuesday May 10, 1977

A normal May day for a change. Too hot even. Well, not perhaps too hot but we aren't really used to it as yet.

Headlines: the newspapers are convinced that the Prince of Wales is going to marry Princess Marie-Astrid of Luxembourg. She's at Cambridge at the moment studying English, and photographs of her walking through the city carrying a pile of text books are splattered in every national newspaper. Even the wary old Times has afforded Her Royal Highness (or is she a Serene Highness?) a slot on page seven or eight. The furore has been going on for two or three days. The princess is a fifth cousin of the Queen. It is, of course, no obstacle.

Peter: petrol problem

At about 7 I had a phone call from Chris saying he isn't going to Stockport and concluded by saying Pete M will be ringing shortly to 'tell you why he can't go either'. Sure enough Pete phoned and I was utterly dumbfounded and astonished. He accused me of only ever ringing him when I need a lift and concluded by saying I'm a 'cheeky sod'. He also made reference to our previous visit to Stockport and said he was appalled at Martyn and I for not contributing to the petrol. Christ it was five months ago and it's taken all this time to get it off his chest! I would have thought that friendship was worth a bit more than the price of a gallon of petrol but he obviously differs on this point.

Met CB at the Crown at Yeadon at 8.30. June is in with her fiance, and so is Phil Knowles, but he goes when he sees Christine. Dave, Dave, Phil and Phil are also supping, along with Maura and Marian, &c. Got quite pissed and after depositing Christine on the last bus I walked home through Yeadon and over Nunroyd park. In by 12. Mum and Dad get on my bloody nerves.

-=-

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.
-=-

Wednesday April 27, 1977

Am I becoming boring again? Do let me know if I am. A lovely day with the birds singing up above, and all that.

Glynnie.

Sarah is in high spirits and we laugh just like in old times. Everyone's become far too serious lately. O for the joys of Spring!

Rang Judith at 6. She was in the bath but her mother acted as a messenger girl and I'm told she can go out tonight but not tomorrow. I have no money but Mama - bless her - has promised to lend me a couple of quid until I come into my fortune.

John and Dad are under the car again. I will nominate both of them to His Holiness for canonization. St Lawrence, patron saint of Old Bangers, &c.

Princess Caroline

To get to the important things: The Queen and Queen Mother are visiting Baron and Baroness Philippe de Rothschild in France and the Prince of Wales and Duke of Edinburgh are on their way via Nice to Monaco. Is it wedding bells for Prince Charles and Princess Caroline? I bet the Mail and Express will be hinting at this in the morning. Sarah makes me laugh. She says Princess Caroline is "lacking in virtue".

Dave from Stockport rings at 7.30 to see when we're going over to collect his £142. May 7 or May 14 seem to be possible dates. I've only got about £50 saved up. Aaarrghh!

Met Judith at the Hare and Hounds at 9 o'clock - she is of course with Kathryn (who is very nice) but I would like to see Judith alone occasionally. Stay until about 11 and feel a bit pissed, as indeed I always do when I'm with Judith. Kathryn takes us back to her chambers at Highroyds (the asylum) where we drink wine and mess about with her typewriter. Back to Judith's for fried egg and rissole sandwiches until 2am. Home very tired and with a heavy head. Kathryn driving, of course.

-=-

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.

-=-

Wednesday March 30, 1977

Princess Marie-Astrid.

More in the papers about the Prince of Wales and Princess Marie-Astrid of Luxembourg. The Daily Mail announces that Misses Sheffield and Eastwood and Lady Jane Wellesley are all 'decoys' and that the prince has been 'in love' with Marie-Astrid for a number of years. A load of bullshit. The very organ that has led us to believe that the prince is having an affair with Davina Sheffield is now saying we've all been fooled. You wait and see, the next time HRH is within six hundred yards of anyone remotely female the Daily Mail will be ringing wedding bells and proclaiming 'this is it!'.

The princess is of course very eligible. Granddaughter of Leopold III, King of the Belgians; daughter of the ruler of Luxembourg, but Roman Catholic. Dr Cobweb, the Archbishop of Canterbury is meeting Pope Paul next month. What will crop up in their discussions?  Comment from Mama: "Oh he will marry a princess - it's as plain as the nose on my face."

Work unspectacular. No Sarah. Spoke to Delia on the phone and she reminded me about my birthday tea next week. Yes, 22 years - aarrghh! Who cares anyway? Moses supposedly lived a long and active life and died at the grand old age of 450 or something.

Ruth: 24 years old

Sit in front of the television until 10.45pm when the England v. Luxembourg football match drives me from the room to the sanctity of my chambers.

Nothing on the news. Saw Sir Geoffrey Howe make a reply to Denis Healey's Budget. No phone calls tonight. Tony told me, on the quiet, that Ruth is 24 and has been separated from her husband for 2 years. Blimey, the girl only looks 18. Martyn has yet to be informed of this. Does Ruth know that Martyn is only 18? Age doesn't matter though.

Have a P.G. Wodehouse session after wallowing in the bath. Must write to David of Gloucester.

-==-

Monday March 14, 1977

Dinner suits back to Dormie at lunchtime.

See in the papers that the Queen is having a controversial time on her Silver Jubilee visit to the feeble Australians. A maniac smashed her in the face with a banner demanding the dismissal of the governor-general.

Gough Whitlam: silly sod.

Gough Whitlam's rude and sarcastic remarks made in Her Majesty's presence last week cannot have been received with the humour and delight by the royal couple as it was reported. Mr Whitlam is to have his leadership of the Aussie Labour party contested by a colleague. The silly sod has signed his own death warrant.

Other news: Margaret Trudeau has eloped with the Electric Light Orchestra.

Ring Martyn at 8. I'll have to have Sunday off if Brands Hatch is on the cards. Can't see any difficulty here. Martyn talked of his financial difficulties and the Ibiza '77 project. The less said about money the better, but at least I'm not the only man in the boat.

Penelope Eastwood.

Martyn said Christine had her scars on display in the pub last night. By all accounts she looks a right old mess. Blimey, is my mini-Elizabeth Taylor going to require plastic surgery? Tony's birthday on Wednesday as well as CB's. Don't forget cards.

Have a bath. Watch a late film until midnight. Davina Sheffield's uncle has died. She is in Kenya with HRH. Or is the mysterious blond Penelope Eastwood? Or Claire Watson? What about Laura Jo Watkins? Even Georgiana Boothby. Certainly not Lady Jane Wellesley.




-=-

Sunday March 6, 1977

2nd in Lent. Lynne's birthday. Oh God I've just called my sister by a strange name. It's her bloody birthday too. I am sorry. She's just been in my bedroom looking quite ravishing showing me the presents she's bought David for his 21st.  I bought her a bottle of French perfume which she seems to like. Her boss comes round at 10.30 with a bouquet making overtures of affection to her in the kitchen. ________.

Lynn: 19th birthday.

The Prince of Wales has gone off to Kenya shooting the wildlife. Good for him. This gives a good two fingers to these thoroughly boring conservationists, environmentalists, &c.

John, Maria and JPH come up at 2. Baby is making a bit more noise and says "Da Da" and then "Da Da Da" when provoked. Eat turkey, pate, ham - and sup glass after glass of Cinzano. The mean contingent keep reminding me that I have to go to work in a couple of hours and I sit sombrely contemplating the clock. Chris Baker and his girlfriend Julie Harris drop in for half an hour or so.

The YP tonight was absolutely dead. Just Ursula and I. No news. No catastrophe has struck East Ardsley or anything like that. Reading the paper I see that the Prince of Wales is not shooting crocodiles. He is in fact taking photographs of them with Claire Watson, and maybe Miss Sheffield.

Hon Claire Watson: shooting crocodiles.

Home by taxi at 12.30 with a little driver who is a leading authority on snake bites.












-==-

Tuesday March 1, 1977

St David's Day. I do hope my Welsh readers have their flags flying today. It was a tiresome day at the YP keeping the conversation away from the subject of Martha Reeves and the Vandellas and Batley Variety Club. Somehow I think Carol J must suspect something because she didn't once mention the subject of tickets to Ursula.

Delia rang at 2.30 to say she is making her TV debut today at 3.45 on YTV (re her flowering arranging genius). She added that she'd just had four of five gin and tonics in the YTV bar and was tipsy. Carol, Sarah and I gathered round the office TV at the pre-arranged time and sure enough Delia emerged onto the 12inch square set in glorious black and white. She was marvellous - her usual hilarious self. I really must get an autograph or signed photo.

Home at 5.30pm for chicken, &c. See in the Daily Mirror - if such a newspaper is to be believed -that Davina Sheffield has taken in a lodger at her London home. Today is her 26th birthday and it may well mark the decline of her liaison with the Prince of Wales. Who knows? Nothing more of vast importance going on in the big, wide world.

Martha Reeves & the Vandellas ...

I am afraid that the month of March is going to be a month of costly entertainment. Numerous birthdays, and an unseemly batch of orgies coming up. How am I going to last until April?

Leave for Batley at 8.30 with Tony & Martyn. Well, what can I say about Batley (Variety Club)? The seats were revoltingly uncomfortable. Either designed by a retarded chimpanzee or Sir Basil Spence. The heat was unbearable and the drinks ridiculously priced. Martha Reeves, though quite good, didn't emerge onto the floor until after 11, and she'd gone by 12. I may have made it sound a depressing night, but it wasn't. Quite good for a Tuesday.





-==-

Thursday February 10, 1977

My first full day without Her Majesty Queen Lynne as my consort and help-meet. In many ways a sad day. The Lynnian era is no more, and with it goes all the security, brilliance and power. The days of convenient car rides to the pub and pleasant weekends at Ty-Onnen have automatically ceased. Once again, I am nothing more than a pleasant, roving peasant.

David Baker

Work is unmentionable. Meet Dave B at the Yorkshire Crown at 12.45 after wading through several feet of water on Wellington Street. Boards outside the office (EP ones) proclaimed 'CHARLES AND DAVINA - PALACE STATEMENT' which is fact a denial of any imminent marital alliance. The Buckingham Palace spokesman says 'it's preposterous to suggest any engagement could take place whilst the Queen is out of the country'. She's in Australia, of course. These palace spokesmen are nothing more than paid liars.

To the dentist for a check up. I have to go back next month for a couple of fillings. Nip to Marita's with a box of chocolates for her birthday, which was a couple of weeks ago, and sit for half an hour or so. She said she'd heard on Monday that I'd finished with Lynne. Coo, didn't that get round quickly?

Down to the Hare with Tony and Martyn at 8.30. John is in with a lad called Steve (Hudson?), & Carole, Naomi and Karen Moorhouse are in. Barry (from Smith's at Ilkley), Judith and Kathryn roll up. John says Chris hates Martyn's guts for 'pinching Karen off him'. Howls of laughter. Karen looked like a deckchair actually - all stripes. Killer. We all go the Il Trovatore in Ilkley. Quite a good night but by 1am we'd developed a 'Darby & Joan' complex. Home with Tony and I sit laughing to myself whilst he and Karen look on as if I'm raving mad.

-=-

Monday January 10, 1977

Anthony Eden,
1st Earl of Avon, KG

Peter wakes me at 6.30am to say I've been parading around the bedroom sleepwalking. Sleepwalking??! I don't believe it, mate. Michael Rhodes isn't that sort of guy. The snow is coming down in the volume that Bing Crosby likes to sing about and Lynne sits grumpily over her egg on toast watching it. The drive over to Leeds would be a sombre - even macabre - affair indeed were it not for Noel Edmonds and Radio One. Lynne is even worse than I am on a morning if you can imagine that. Horrid day at the YP. Poor Lord Avon is breathing his last down in deepest Wiltshire - 20 years to the very day since he resigned as Prime Minister. Poor sod. He married Churchill's niece, you know, Clarissa. Also, this Prince of Wales/Princess Marie-Astrid of Luxembourg thing is brewing up again. A pile of shit if you ask me. The Grand Duke [of Luxembourg] comes to Sandringham EVERY year to kill grouse and other wildlife, and just because he's here at the moment the papers are saying he's discussing the marriage arrangements with the Queen. Laughable. Charlie Boy will marry an English bird - I'll bet you a quid on it. Back to Pine Tops at 6 o'clock. Hear some scandal. Chris is knocking about with Carole again. Eek. Tony rings to say he's off to the Hare with Stuart and enquires whether I want to attend the WH Smith dinner tomorrow. This is a must. He says he went to the Boat Show for the weekend _______. Gossip is hilariously out of control at the moment. Lynne and I go to the Hare at 9 o'clock and meet Tony, Stuart, Martyn, Carla, and Stuart's replacement at Smith's and a new member of the Oakwood Hall Male Voice Choir. Only have a couple of drinks. Bid farewell to Stuart who leaves on Saturday for three years in Paris [C/O Madame Guichard, Residences Les Dauphines, 6 Rue Renault, La Defence 6, 92400, Courbevoie, Paris]. We may never see him again. Don't like parting with friends. Will write him a few daft letters. Home at 10.45. -==-

Friday December 17, 1976

See in the Daily Mail that the Prince of Wales and Davina Sheffield are attending the wedding of Richard Beckett and Elizabeth Waterhouse in Derbyshire today. It's the first we've heard of Miss S for quite some time now, but I can't help thinking that she and the heir apparent will one day 'tie the knot'. Will report on developments later.

To the Hare & Hounds with Susan and Peter at 8.30. Carole is in with Naomi again. [They were in yesterday]. I have the feeling that Carole is gloating about something. I'm willing to bet you a million quid that ____ has told her of my recent revision of my feelings, &c. 

Tony, Mandy, Martyn, Stuart, Kathryn, Chris, Pete M, and Denise all flock in. Lynne is far from pleased and goes on about being ignored by Carole & Denise. What does she expect? ________. 

We decide to go to Oakwood Hall. Tony, Mandy, Lynne and I go to the Vineyard in Ilkley until after 11. I purchased the wine [£2.20]. From here we go to Martyn's where I change into one of his suits - like a male Cinderella really. Borrow £5 from Lynne too! God, have I taken leave of my senses? All at Oakwood Hall. Speak to Carole, not in the presence of Lynne of course, and she questions me on the whereabouts of my crucifix and asks why I've taken to wearing my ring on my left hand. Mundane, but a massive improvement on previous meetings. ___must have said something to bring Carole back on the scene.

-==-