Tuesday April 6, 1976

Budget Day. Mr Healey didn't do much at all and I don't know why the BBC bothered covering the 'event' because sweet sod all resulted from Denis's lengthy oration. However, beer is going up 1p a pint and the price of a bottle of Scotch is going up by 32p. Callaghan's first day at No. 10, and I bet Audrey's made friends with all the neighbours. What colour scheme has she decided upon for Jim's bedroom?

Carole rings at 7.30pm whilst I'm out pruning the roses, to say - or rather to sob - that 'the family' (if that's what they can be called) have ignored her all night, and she mumbles about killing herself. I cannot be expected to continue gardening after being told that my girlfriend is about to end her life so I lay down my shears and meet her on Thorpe Lane. We go for a long ramble, taking in Esholt Woods, Westfield fish and chip shop and the Yorkshire Rose. Carole looks horrific and I'm sick and tired of the whole affair. Why should I be depressed by a domestic squabble that's too inferior for words? Carole never gives me any of the details so how can I be expected to sympathise? She's a good deal happier when we part company at 11, and arrange to meet in Guiseley tomorrow night.

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Monday December 3, 1973

I ought to _______________________in August, because my heart is broken beyond repair. Four months have passed since darling June left me, and yet no day goes by without me wishing for a miracle to return her to me. It's not as if I don't try to find someone else, but her image is always in my mind. Her voice, her sayings. I will never stop loving her.

Agreed, sometimes weeks go by without me writing her name, but you must realise that most things I write are only useless facts, to cover my innermost feelings. One day I do suppose that I will forget about my so-called broken heart, and look back upon these months with nothing but fondness. But one cannot act of context with the present. At this moment in time I love June more than anyone or anything else.

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Wednesday June 20, 1973

Wake at 10.30. Very dark and rainy. A letter awaits me from June and it's very charming indeed - she also agrees that Sunday evening was the most pleasant evening we have spent together for a long time.

Dad saw Bill Dixon yesterday and he asked him whether I want my council painting job back in the summer holidays. I think about it and agree yes. It will mean nearly £20 a week. The CW will have to go. But Lynn could work Tuesdays and Fridays, and Christine Dibb Thursday and Saturday - splitting my evenings equally between the two of them.

Attempt to do Economics until 12. Have lunch by candlelight at 12.45 - weather still dark and shocking. Revise until 4 when Jennie Rawnsley comes round to see the girls. She demands to know why I haven't bought 'Tie a Yellow Ribbon round The Old Oak Tree' by Dawn. Didn't have the heart to tell her it stinks!

Have tea. Watch 'Coronation Street'. Very guiltily I go on to see 'Special Branch' when I should be doing Economics revision, but what's the point in working myself into an early grave at 18?

Come to bed at 11.30 after seeing an awful play in which a student cut his throat in the bath - the bathwater turned bright red! What a way to commit suicide! I could never find the courage it must take to do away with oneself. Besides, I value human life too highly.

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