Sunday October 9, 1977

18th after Trinity. Awakened at 9am by the Australian girl who says the room stinks and nominates Jacqui and I for a Nobel Prize for tolerating it the night long. It was very stale. We ate more cheese and continued with the record player and before long we were the sole occupants of the flat. God only knows where the others went. Jacqui passed a frustrating hour searching for the vacuum cleaner - not dissimilar to the quest for the Holy Grail. The offending object turned up in a distant cupboard.

Jacqui.

The day was hot and sunny and we set out for a walk down the actual Muswell hill to see Jacqui's mum. We discovered her brother, Pete, in a state of great hangover-isation (he'd been to a party) but no sign of her mum. From there we walked to a weird pub for a couple of drinks. Jacqui didn't know the Queen's birthplace was in Piccadilly. Back to the flat at 2 and took my leave of the piano-playing flatmate. Got a bus and then a tube to Victoria and at 3 I left for Leeds. Jacqui was in hysterics because a woman climbed onto the coach with a massive, obscene looking Alsatian dog, which proceeded to park itself next to me. We were howling at each other through the window. I read, or at least attempted to read, 'The Count of Monte Cristo' but found myself asleep for most of the journey. Ate sandwiches at Leicester. This gave me indigestion. Landed at Chateau Pine Tops at about 8pm.

All in all, an exquisite weekend - or party, or day, or whatever you call it. Saw TV with the family and retired early with, yes, you've guessed it, the Count.

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Saturday October 8, 1977

Foggy, wet and damp. Party at 102, Grosvenor Road, Muswell Hill, London N10. I got a coach from Leeds at 12.30 and read 'The Count of Monte Cristo' until my eyes ached. We were in the centre of London before I deposited the book in my luggage. The coach driver, making his first venture to the capital, was lost, and we circled Buckingham Palace five or six times before one of my fellow passengers enlightened him as to the whereabouts of Victoria. All very trying it was.

Met Jacqui at about 5.30 and, in pouring rain, we went by bus to Muswell Hill, which seemed just as far from London as did Leeds. It was miles!

George Davis: drinking with his relations.

Jacqui shares a marvellous flat with a couple of other birds - one a sexy Australian. We ate and listened to records until the first party guests arrived at about 9 o'clock. Lononders frowned at the suggestion that we should first go to the pub until closing time. Weird lot. All the men wear one ear-ring, and several claimed to be related to George Davis, the bank robber of Headingley wicket sabotage fame. Didn't know whether to believe them or not. Most people (were) quite pissed, but gallons of wine didn't do much for me at all. The party was good. I thoroughly enjoyed it. My northern accent amused endless people and I brought hours of amusement to scores of Londoners who had never actually met a Yorkshire man before. I remember drinking Pernod and chatting to a Greek.

Jacqui and I get on very well. We were the last survivors at about 4am.

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Friday October 7, 1977

Phoned Tony to say I'm not going out tonight. I have been to the library and laid hands on a copy of 'The Count of Monte Cristo' by Dumas which held my attention to the extent that I could not bring myself to drop it for an evening and go stand in a pub. _____________. It cannot be helped. I'm sick and tired of people at the moment. At the library I also took out a Wodehouse novel. I have yet to finish the Waugh novels. Having finished 'Decline and Fall' I'm not quite as impressed with a second volume called 'Black Magic' or something. Aren't I reverting to my old intellectual ways? Going to see 'Twelfth Night' with Sarah on November 10, and on Nov 22 it's back to the Leeds Playhouse - also with Sarah. I suppose you can say she has a lot to do with it.

Watched a play on TV with Lynn and David and had a Pernod and a few beers. Retired to bed with 'The Count of Monte Cristo' at about 12-ish. London here I come, tomorrow.

P.S. I've just glanced over what I've entered today and have decided that it looks pathetic and ridiculous that I, at twenty-two and a half, I should be reading 'The Count of Monte Cristo' - may I add, reading it for the very first time too. Can it be put down to my secondary education perhaps? I did read two or three chapters of 'Wuthering Heights' when I was 16. Does that put me higher in your estimation?

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Thursday October 6, 1977

Squash with Sarah. I don't ache quite as much as I did last week, but still feel as though it isn't for me. I despise physical exercise and all that goes with it. The sweaty changing rooms, the showers, rowdy young men who can only talk about football. It just isn't Michael Rhodes. But, as I told Tony on the phone on Tuesday,  Sarah and I play squash quite simply for sexual reasons. Yes, the game is over by 7.30 and it gives us three or four hours afterwards to indulge in more normal activities in the lounges of pubs _______.

Sarah: discussed relationships

From the Leisure Centre we went to the Commercial where we sat in a corner and discussed our relationships. She talked about Lynne Mather, and looked me straight in the eye and said: "you had me worried there because I thought you were going to go off and marry her." She told me she could never marry because it would be a crime to inflict herself on some poor man. I said she was talking rot, but she stuck to her guns, adding how "sweet" it was of me to be so nice and understanding. ________.

We saw Annie (Lindley) who said I was paralysed on Saturday. We also had a few words with American Carol (Shires) who told me she is going to marry in May. She looked painfully thin and ill, but was friendly and enquired after the whole family. We came back home for coffee (or was it tea?) at 10.30 and saw David's engagement party photographs. Sarah sat and screamed with laughter at them.

The Duchess of Kent suffered a miscarriage - as expected and is to remain in hospital until early next week. What a damn shame. So the three royal Silver Jubilee babies are reduced to two. Ah well.

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Wednesday October 5, 1977

To work today with Jim and Jennie Rawnsley. I could almost see Jim shivering in terror as his eight year-old daughter commanded him to 'overtake the bright yellow car in front. It might be Miss Higginbottom, my history teacher'. ______.

Duchess: abortion.

The Duchess of Kent crisis continues. The Archbishop of Canterbury is now involved and keeps making short visits to the hospital, no doubt to persuade the religious duchess that it would not be wrong to under go some sort of procedure  to terminate her pregnancy. We know what the opinions the duchess has on the subject of abortion and I can understand the torment she must be going through. However, the life of the mother is far more important to that of an unborn child. All you Roman Catholics can now rip out this page and eat it.

Norman Conquests.

Just watched TV tonight. Saw an Alan Ayckbourn play 'The Norman Conquests' starring Penelope Keith and Richard Briers which is first class - for a change. The quality of television plays is usually disgustingly low and I was delighted to se something well done. I think Penelope Keith is marvellous and cannot understand where she's been hiding for the past 20 years. Isn't it strange how these actress, and not particularly young ones, suddenly emerge from obscurity overnight?

Tuesday October 4, 1977

Sarah and I passed lunchtime together. We went to the Art Library and she took out three or four books on pottery and potting for her 'O' level evening class before going on to Malcolm's (sandwich shop) where we inadvertently robbed the assistant of the price of two egg mayonnaise sandwiches.

Back at the YP we phoned the (Leeds) Playhouse and booked to see 'Twelfth Night' by a man called Shakespeare on November 10.

The remainder of the day went by quite blissfully and nothing much more happened, except for perhaps two things. Christine phoned to say she's asked Philip Knowles to take her back, and that she expects a reply within the next few days. I expressed my surprise and hope that all will be well in the end. Poor Philip. I talked her out of this idea over the last Christmas season. Will he be dropped again?

Duchess of Kent.

The other thing. The Duchess of Kent is probably going to lose the baby she was expecting in February. The duke, who flew out to Iran yesterday, came rushing home today and took his wife to the King Edward VII Hospital, where no doubt her pregnancy will cease in the next few days. I've said all along that 44 is a bit on the old side for such a venture. All the remaining pregnant royal ladies will be quaking in their maternity smocks tonight. Poor, poor duchess.

Rang Tony tonight just to mention Muswell Hill, and just as I thought he has a prior engagement. He says he's taking Toni to some joint for dinner and a dance afterwards. ________.





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Monday October 3, 1977

Sarah.

At work. Sarah was gorgeous. We kept talking about Saturday and she tested me on my memory of certain incidents from the evening.She was glum when I told her I couldn't remember a thing. But a lovely glint came into her eyes when I said I could recall the 'Rachmaninov interlude', which goes down as one of the most romantic incidents in my tiny life - so far. I was cooled somewhat when she said John Macmurray is back from Lithuania and that she had been to the theatre with him last night. Never have I wished anything unfortunate to befall a fellow human being as much as I did today on the poor, smiling Yorkshire Post journalist who is nothing but civility and kindness to me. As the words came from Sarah's lips I was transported to Bulgaria (or wherever he's been) and felt a growing anger that the authorities of that delightfully repressed nation had not incarcerated Macmurray in a rat infested cell, forgotten and shut away for at least 20 years. Or at least long enough for me to get my hands on Sarah. But, one cannot blame Mr Macmurray. It's Sarah fault for associating with a 24 year-old undergraduate of Scottish descent. When I seize power I'll ban English women associating with young men with surnames beginning with 'Mac'.

Saw Princess Anne tonight at the International Horse Show from the Empire Pool, Wembley. The cameras didn't focus on her 'bump'. She glared though the TV set with that fierce Windsor scowl. No sign of a Lord Phillips yet.

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