Sunday December 5, 1976

2nd in Advent. Have a nightmare and wake up having committed a murder! Don't know who the victim was and what were the motives, but I distinctly remember dropping a body from a bridge into the sea. Weird.

Climb out of bed at some ghastly hour and Lynne attempts to clean her car in freezing temperatures. You can imagine what happened. The whole bloody machine iced up and the sight of Lynne trying to remove frozen soap suds from the windscreen was amazing. She is so bloody willful though - I couldn't persuade her not to attempt this ridiculous exercise in the first place. To thaw out we go off to Pickering and have rum and oranges in the Royal Oak. Two or three drinks and Lynne is in Never Land. Incredible! Back to Ty-Onnen where she proceeds to clown around on the carpet like an imbecile. Mr Mather thought she had gone quite mad and he kept muttering, almost to himself, that he could not understand how I had put up with her for so long. He's a tremendous laugh and frequently says: 'Well, you're still sticking with her, Michael.'

Mr & Mrs Mather, Peter, Karl, Lynne and I watch TV all evening. 'Rising Damp' and then a Paul Newman epic based on the life of a ridiculous American boxer, Rocky Graziano. A name that sounds as though it belongs on a menu in a Italian restaurant. Drink a few whiskies and we all boil and sweat with the ridiculously hot central heating. Bed at 1.30.

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Saturday October 9, 1976

Lynne lands at Yeadon Airport at 3.30pm. Donald & Vera Mather and Karl came 10 minutes before the plane landed and Brigadier Kenneth Hargreaves, Lord Lieutenant for West Yorkshire, represented the Queen. The massed bands of Princess Patricia's Own Light Infantry serenaded Lynne's arrival with the lament 'The Flowers of the Forest'.

To Thornton-le-Dale. Peter and Chris were already at Ty-Onnen on our arrival and we all settle down to a meal at 7 o'clock. Tia Maria flowed like water. [Tia Maria is water, isn't it? - Editor].

Romantic night in Pickering with Lynne, Peter and Mr Rat. Pickering is hardly the Soho of the north, but we had a good laugh all the same. Peter is so narrow mined though. [That's beside the point, Michael. Let's not get rude about the brother of the lady you happen to love]. Back at 11 o'clock to watch Phyllis Diller on TV, then Michael Parkinson and Wilfred Hyde White and the late Vincent Price. Also saw a Googie Withers epic until 2am by which time Lynne had fallen into a coma and only Mr Mather and Mr Rat survived. Sad eh?

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Sunday September 5, 1976

12th after Trinity. Out of bed at midday for a cooked breakfast with the Mather family [except Donald, who is decorating]. Horror of Horrors! I smashed a rare Meissen plate when I dropped a half-ton butter dish onto it. Mrs M laughs it off but I feel terrible. I never break anything at home. I also accidentally knocked Peter's electric razor off a dresser, showering particles & bristles all over the kitchen.

Lynne and I then creep away to the Cayley Arms. Talk about things. We don't like Jane, and neither does Donald & Vera. I say how much I like her parents - which isn't crawling - but quite sincere. Only us in the pub, which isn't very nice, and so we go for a drive round for an hour or so. Bright sun. We laugh at the sight of a massive 18 stone woman astride a tiny, pathetic, crippled pony, which seems to be dying beneath the weight. Lynne wants to contact the NSPCC or something. Isn't that for cats?

Back to Ty-Onnen for hilarious lunch and then settle down to watch 'Cromwell' starring Richard Harris and with Alec Guinness as the martyred monarch. Retire to bed at midnight after cuccumber sandwiches and Tchaikovsky's 'Swan Lake' on the record player. Listening to Lynne and her father discussing work over supper I realise how terribly ambitious she is. I don't like ambition one bit. I tend to think people become eaten away by it and finish up like Hitler.

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Friday September 3, 1976

Lynne comes at 7 and after a few sandwiches we go up to Bramhope to collect David __[surname held back], a weedy 13 year-old friend of Karl, and brother of Jane, Peter M's girlfriend.

Arrive at Thornton-le-Dale at about 9 o'clock and go to both pubs in the village with Lynne, Peter & Jane. I don't like Jane. A 17-year-old 'know all' who in fact knows absolutely nothing when it boils down to it. Back to Ty-Onnen [the Mather residence] at 11 o'clock with King Edward cigars and a couple of quids worth of beer. Also have two bottles of wine awaiting our consumption. Lynne and I get a bit pissed, but the others look sober. They all seem to enjoy themselves anyway. When everyone else had drifted off to bed only Lynne and I were left [obviously], and we proceeded to drink even more. I'm taking photographs like a regular little Lord Snowdon. Don't ask me what time our orgy of fun finally fell through, but I'm quite sure it was virtually dawn. Lynne is a beaut. People however are saying nasty things about us. "That Mig Rhodes only goes out with Lynne Mather because she looks like Princess Anne." To those misguided souls, whomsoever they are, here is my message: "Drop Dead, Tosh."

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