Monday July 21, 1975

Susan's 16th birthday. She gets a stack of presents and I almost died laughing at the card from Dave L. It had a bloke on a motor bike on the front with a large letter eight in the top corner! What will he come up with next? It seems like a lifetime since my 16th, and I really don't want to dwell on it.

Work was quite busy really. I was saddened to see that the only son and heir of Lord Ingleby died at the weekend. That's another title doomed to extinction.

Go to Whitelocks with Sarah and Dave B.

Home at 6 o'clock and leap into the bath. Everyone is running around all panic stricken. All ready by 7.30, and Peter comes round with a beautiful ring for Susan. That must have set the poor boy back a few bob.

Lynn, Dave, Sue, Peter, Martyn Cole, Alison, Christine D, 'George', John, Mum, Dad and me of course, all go off for that long awaited feast. Not too impressed by the place (the Coniston, Idle), and I sit flanked by John on my left and Christine D on my right. A noisy time I had too! Christine gets worse. A young bloke plays records while we eat, and afterwards we all dance. Dave takes a few photographs and we down alcoholic refreshment until 11.30. Back home for coffee, chocolates and a few more photographs. Upstairs to bed at 1am feeling whacked.

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