Thursday March 13, 1975

Glorious pay day once again. God knows what I'd do, or where I'd be, if that little bundle of notes wasn't thrust upon me once a week in the usual manner.

Marita rings at about 7 and says she's bored and gives me the usual stories about how sickened off she is lately, &c. I immediately leap to her rescue by saying 'we really ought to go out for a few drinks' or words to that effect. She agrees. Picking me up at 8 we go down to the Fox at Menston. I vowed never to darken the doorstep of that hostelry again following an incident therein the other week involving Helen and Miss Dibb. However, Marita likes it, so who cares? She informs me, whilst slumped over her tonic water, that Our Lady of Bramhope is no longer a spoken for person. My heart leaps at the thought of darling Denise being once again in our midst and tears of joy fell into my ale at Marita's tale of cruelty and misery. Ade, for all his good points, dealt irreparable blows to dearest Denise, and for that alone he deserves all the evils that will surely come to him.

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Wednesday March 12, 1975

I don't want to write anything today really other that to say how happy I am that you are fit and well, and living up to life's little tests in the manner which I am sure would make any Englishman proud. Goodbye.

I know it's cheating doing this, but it isn't March 12 at all in this paragraph, if you know what I mean. The first bit about me not bothering to write anything was March 12, but as sure as Donny Osmond is Donny Osmond this paragraph isn't March 12.


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Tuesday March 11, 1975

It's even more noisy in the bloody office today. Kathleen had headphones on all day.

Read an interesting article in the recent News of the World re Lord Snowdon and Lady Jacqueline Rufus Isaacs. It says that Lady Jackie, the daughter of Lord Reading, was "very much in love" with Lord Snowdon, and that the affair had started in 1969 when the couple sat at the same table in a West End club. Evidently, his Lordship visited Lady Jackie's flat two or three times a week under the pretext of calling on her brother, Viscount Erleigh,and they managed to see each other frequently in 1970 without more than a handful of people knowing. When the story was grabbed by the Press in 1971 the affair had to cease. It says Lord Snowdon never visited the Reading family home again, and Princess Margaret ignores Lady Jackie when they occasionally meet at parties.

The beloved Prime Minister is 59 years old today. He celebrates at Dublin Castle where the EEC talks are going on, and never again will I say nasty things about him because he's done so much for the Queen's pay rises and the Civil List. He's a decent old sport really, and I don't suppose it's his fault that he was born with all these confused ideas about politics. Someone really should discover an antedote for socialism, because when that day comes Harold Wilson will require a sizeable injection.

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Monday March 10, 1975

A filthy day. Rains non stop and to make matters worse I had to go up to the Merrion Centre with Mum's Mother's Day present and swap it for one more in keeping with her size.

The noise in the YP building is becoming much worse, and our nerves are on edge and cracking up. Sarah looked pale all day & Eileen is still under the influence of flu. A sad state of affairs indeed. Nothing in the news other than the grim details of the Lesley Whittle murder. The Prince of Wales has returned to the (HMS) Hermes for a further 6 months at sea, and the little, cherubic Prince Edward is eleven years old today. Revolting Denis Healey is to open his tatty Budget box for all to see on April 15, and Alison Dixon's dog, Frisky, passed away into the great unknown over the weekend. It's amazing what one can dig up by way of news when one tries hard enought.

Home for tea at 5.15. Mess about in the lounge for an hour or so afterwards, and decide that my hair needs washing. (You all wanted to know that). Tonight is the final episode in the 'Likely Lads' series. It will be the end of a fantastic set of programmes.

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Sunday March 9, 1975

4th Sunday in Lent. Reflections: Chris was a bit grotty to begin with last night, which is quite understandable, but he pulled round later on. Christine broke the news to him yesterday lunchtime, but he realised what the intention of her calling was before the fateful words had escaped her venomous lips. How long will she last with Gary? Is my love for her a remnant of those Halcyon days and hot Indian summer nights at Benton Park Grammar School? Yes, I think it might be.

Up at 12.30 to be told by Mummy that her Mother's Day present is about 15 sizes too small. Susan and Peter are to blame, and they receive the full weight of my wrath when we assemble after lunch. Roast beef and Yorkshire pudding for lunch and see the edited version of the Royal visit to Mexico on TV afterwards.

Lynn and Dave come over he settles down to fiddle with his car on the drive. Last night I realised what a jealous person Mr Baker really is. In the seating arrangements at Wheels Lynn was placed between Dave and Chris. After chatting with Chris for a while Dave was seen to drain of all colour and become very abrupt. Things improved later, but it just goes to show how many types of people it takes to make a world.

Helen Lockyer rings up later to see if I'm going out. I say I'll ring her back later but I know what the answer will be. Yes.

Ring Chris after tea but he's still in mourning for Christine and doesn't feel like going out anywhere. Dave B and Peter stayed for tea, and we had quite a laugh really.

To the Hare and Hounds with John and Naomi. Christine comes with Gary and they're all over each other at the bar. Helen comes in at 8.30 and the two of us stand at the bar for a couple of hours. Back to her place at see the last 35 minutes of an Edward G. Robinson film. Home in her car at midnight.

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Saturday March 8, 1975

Lesley Whittle is dead. This puts the toll reaped by the Black Panther up to four. Three sub-postmasters and one innocent young girl. Anyway, I'm not going to dwell on that.

Wake up at 8 and find a beautiful morning awaiting my inspection. Have a cup of tea with Helen and Jane and then have a lift home in style with Miss Jane Lockyer at the wheel. Make a steaming hot pot of tea and take it up to Mama and Papa with the miserable looking morning papers. We sit for half an hour discussing the Black Panther and criminology in general. This conversation really saved the day, because sleep, rigormortis and lock-jaw would have set in had no one made the effort to talk to me. By 10am the brightness of the morning and the pleasant thought of food fives me that 'get up and go!'feeling. Oh for the Joys of Spring! (Sickly, isn't it?)

Mum takes on the mood of an ogre before lunch because Dad renders the car inoperable with repairs when it happens to be his weekend off. The poor girl hasn't been out for weeks and it looks like being another quiet weekend for her. Tomorrow is Mother's Day, so I hope she cheers herself up a bit.

Chris, Dave and Peter M go to the Dyneley - and Lynn and the birthday boy and me go to the Hare & Hounds, where MM and Marita are therein accompanied by Chris and Dave L. MM and Marita aren't too talkative and they leave after a few minutes. Dave, Pete and Chris (Christine having finished with him this afternoon) all go to the Dyneley, and Helen, Christine Dibb, Dave B and me go straight to Wheels,a discotheque in Seacroft. The others from the Dyneley follow on and a great time in enjoyed by all. Helen Lockyer is a darling - just my type really. She's Aries too - April 8 - which makes us very compatible. Dave L got on extremeley well with Christine Dibb and the birthday boy and me attempt to get drunk. Had a few dances. Home at 2am.

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Friday March 7, 1975

SPECIAL NEWS FLASH EDITION: A rumpus at the Hare & Hounds tonight when Christine said she'd finished with Chris and is now going out with a banking friend, Gary, whom I know only briefly. It all came about when good old Dave L (making a guest appearance)said he'd rather go to Wheels tomorrow than go to Wikis tonight - Chris agreed with this and dashed over to the other end of the pub to convery these thoughts to Christine, who was now doing her upmost to pull Gary. Pandemonium ensued when Helen said: "Why can't we do both?" Being the Jet-Set, high living spenders that we are. This suggestion was received coldly and with a good deal of discontent, and Christine ended up telling David to "piss off", but in a friendly way. (Christine's the only bird I know who can insult you in a nice way). Helen and I stick to our guns and say we are going to do both venues. So, it's Christine Dibb, Helen and me to Wikis where nothing much goes on, or indeed comes off. John is with Naomi and her cousin, and Carol S is with her recent acquisition. I think she intends to generously leave all her boyfriends to the nation when she dies. I'm sure it will be the largest collection of males under one roof. Since we formed the Royal Society for the Prevention of Wastage of Drinks I've sure had my share of alcoholic refreshment.
John isn't in the car (changing the subject) and so I walked Helen back to Menston and stayed the night sleeping in a sleeping bag on her settee. Prior to this we discussed all manner of things - women's lib, monarachy, ghosts. PS - at about 8 Kathleen rang looking for Lesley Whittle's picture file. Is the poor girl a goner?

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