Sunday January 19, 1975

Sleep till 1pm. Marita woke me at the Lord knows what time with the radio. She's the only person I know who listens to 'The Archers'. Somebody must listen in somewhere otherwise the series would have been given the push decades ago.

Christine and I read eighty pages of 'The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe' by C.S. Lewis. I persuaded Denny to read it in September and I managed to get Christine to buy a copy whilst shopping yesterday. I must ring Denny and get my copy back - she took it to glance at and that was the last I saw of it.

Steak for lunch. Cooked by me of course. Lazy afternoon reading through a book on astrology - it's quite canny how people take after their star signs. Mine was especially flattering. Leave at 7. Hysterical journey into Sheffield, but I feel sick on the coach coming back to Leeds. MM and Marita were discussing going to Worcester in a couple of weeks, but I am dubious. David cannot manage to house four of us surely? But still, MM will do the arranging I expect.

Christine and I go straight to the Hare & Hounds, leaving Marita in Rawdon. She refuses to inhabit places of fun and enjoyment when MM is away. Astounded in the Hare to hear that Chris is going to work in Windsor - at Barclays Bank therein. Not a permanent move however, only from June to Christmas. We'll all be at a loose end without him.

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Saturday January 18, 1975

Wake up just after 10am. Christine says that Marita and I were talking in our sleep. People always say I yell and carry on like a madman in my sleep. Some Psycological reason I suppose.

Spend five and a half ruddy hours in a Sheffield Shopping Centre! Nearly went round the bend watching MM and Marita trying on shoes and buying the nicest lettuces in the market, and spending hour after hour in dark, body odour-smelling, music filled boutiques trying on velvet jackets you'll know they'll never buy. Oh, and Marita wants only lightweight shoes because she's going to Yugoslavia in September and it's always hot there isn't it? Christine and I nearly passed out.

We arrived home after 6. Christine and I are knackered to the core, but MM & Marita look quite normal. Salad for tea. Wear MM's duffle coat when we go to the pub - don't drink much and get back for about 11. Christine and I die laughing over a Monty Python book - a bottle of Martini helped too. The night was probably a bit more romantic as far as Christine and I are concerned. MM got up at 2am wearing Marita's nightie! God! How we laughed.

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Friday January 17, 1975

Meet Marita in Park Row at 5.15. We go to Smiths in the Railway Station where we route around in the glossy magazines and rude paperbacks until Christine arrives. I buy 'Confessions of a Private Soldier', a nasty, dirty little thing by Timothy Lea. Quite cheeky though. Leave Leeds by train and we laugh all the way to Sheffield. MM meets us on the platform, and when he and Marita are together they certainly are very close. Wedding bells will be ringing in a few years time, that's for certain.

The flat is just one room with all the necessities therein. Smells very musty and the atmosphere is positively damp. The four of us are far too shagged out to consider going to the boozer for a few pints - so we sit gathered around the electric fire eating cheese and biscuits and listening to Elton John's Greatest Hits on the record player. Bed time is a farce. MM and Marita have the single bed - all this sex before marriage 'I don't know what the world's coming to' &c. Christine and I share a camp bed...Comfortable it all is too. Not actually having bodily contact you understand - but reaping the benefits from the closeness which warmed us both in the cold flat.

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Thursday January 16, 1975

YP all day. Prepare for tomorrow's venture into the depths of Sheffield where no man has dared set foot before. Ring Marita and ensure I have all the correct times, &c.