Thursday August 23, 1979

_. All the best people are getting married these days, aren't they? The Duke of Sutherland; Twiggy; Rod Stewart; Christine Braithwaite; Lorna Luft; Nikki Lauda; Jack Parnell; Tina, Marchioness of Blandford [died 1971]; Prince Bertil of Sweden and his bit of stuff, Lil, to name but a few. So, with this in mind Ally and I have decided to elope. Tonight's Jim and Margaret session really went with a bang following our announcement, and Mummy lapped it up, showering us both with kisses when we retired to bed at `1:30am. I am only agreeing to elope because I want to be made a ward of court, but Dad ruined things by pointing out I am too old to be made subject of such a court order. We don't know whether to go to Gretna Green or just find a village parson in Hampshire on our way to Martyr Worthy.

At 1:30 Ally came to my room and I crammed a few of my worldly possessions into her suitcase. I have never shared a suitcase with a young lady before. I reflect that for most of my twenty five years I have lived like a future Pope. Entirely blameless and as pure as the driven snow. I wouldn't want Ally to realise this. It cannot be good to be stereotyped into the Cliff Richard mould.

Just a half-day to work and then it's a nice long break. Bye, bye.

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Wednesday August 22, 1979

_. Slept until lunchtime which is annoying. The day has passed me by. Out in the garden with Papa. He wants to move a large conifer tree from the front to the back. The offending tree is about 8ft tall and I fear for its future. My researches show that coniferous bushes are hardy, with close-knit roots. So, roll on transplant time.

To the YP at 4:30 and hear from Kathleen about of Chilean work-mate. He goes by the name of Alfredo [sic] Hernandez. ___________.

Home at 12 in a taxi driven by a poor misguided soul who tomorrow is packing everything in, quitting our shores, and removing himself to a far flung and obscure corner of the Empire called New Zealand. Blimey, I thought we had stopped doing such hideous exoduses back in the 1960s. I'd sooner emigrate to Saturn or Washington New Town. He [the taxi driver] no doubt thinks that the streets of Wellington are paved with gold.  Ate, and then bed at 1am.

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Tuesday August 21, 1979

_. Kathleen has engaged a Chilean exile to work nights as Ursula's replacement. He fled Chile in 1973 after the coup d'état which overthrew the Communist Mr Allende. He is a university graduate with a wife and two children.

Maria has had a letter from Dr Mellor re Catherine's heart. She may require surgery at some time in the future.______.

Cut the lawns. Re-potted a pot-bound palm.

Watched an awful film on the BBC. A good film if you are a member of the Arlene Dahl fan club. Played more 'Monopoly' with Susan. She beat us again. Ally may name 5, Club Street 'the Ponderosa'. Laugh a good deal.

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Monday August 20, 1979

_.Arrived home at 5. Maria and JPH drop in to give mother a bulletin on Catherine. _____. Maria is going with Carole [Phillips] and Mick Lynch to Christine Dibb's. it was her 21st yesterday, and I suppose she is throwing some sort of function.

Lynn, Ally and Susie roll in from the sauna, all bedraggled, and sat eating salad and gossiping with Mum. She thinks Dad is going to be damaged by the police force and  end his days as a bitter, twisted old man.

We discovered an old 'Monopoly' board in a cupboard and sat round the table. Susan soon owned everything and was cruel enough to kidnap Ally's little dog, going so far to actually have it destroyed. I briefly owned Mayfair.

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Sunday August 19, 1979

_. 10th Sunday after Trinity

Breakfast with Lynn and Dave, and then with Mum. They didn't get in until 4am either. Sunday newspaper review: will Simon Phipps, Princess Margaret's former boyfriend, be the next Archbishop of Canterbury, or will it definitely be [Stuart] Blanch? Just thought I'd pose the question, It is Sunday.

The overcast day did not prevent Mum dragging an old deckchair into the garden and collapsing therein.

At 7 Ally, Sue, Pete and I went to the Prachee Indian.

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Saturday August 18, 1979

_. I sat sticking photos in my album this morning thinking on my past adventures with my former constant companion, Christine Braithwaite. She married sometime today at Guiseley Register office [or so I've been led to believe]. I did not go down and 'peep' because she wanted a very quiet, no fuss ceremony, and I respect her wishes. I wish her a long, lusty and brilliant life with Frank and only hope she never regrets todays all important ritual. I intend to write some gesture of goodwill to the happy couple.

At about 12 Ally's parents came over, and after a while we went on to Lynn & David's so they can inspect Lawn Road. Lynn looks very well and cheerful. The Dixons left at 1 and we all went to the White Cross. Sue and Peter are there with Chippy outside, but we went in a stood at the bar, because Lynn and Chippy insist on engaging in battle every time their paths cross.

This evening to the Rose & Crown at Ilkley with Lynn, Dave B, Sue, Pete, and Ally. Mum and Dad went to Pudsey and at 9:30 we were joined by Jill and Tim. At closing time armed with a six pint can of ale and bottle of Martini we went to Lawn Rd and spent four or five hours looking at the Baker photo collection. At 1:30 we ran out of booze and so Tim and I bombed over the moor to Pine Tops and pinched bottles of lager and a couple of bottles of wine. The whole journey took about five minutes and at times the wheels of his ancient van left the road. Back at Lawn Rd we sang Christmas Carols on the doorstep until we were admitted. We partied until 4am, when Jill and Tim left because he is working all day Sunday.

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Friday August 17, 1979

_. Stayed in bed until 11. Poor Ally had to get up to go to Bradford. It's the YP tonight for me.

At 12 I went with Mum and Dad to the wine shop on Easterly Road, Leeds, where they bought £12 worth of concentrates for home winemaking. The Christmas brewing is about to commence. From here we went to the Fox & Hounds at Horsforth for some lunch. The landlord asks: 'will some old beef sandwiches do?'  Er, no they won't. On instead to the White Cross for scampi and chips. Disastrous here too. The scampi came out frozen. Mum's plate was powdered with ice. The scampi no doubt freshly netted in the Arctic circle.

Then on to Morrison's and at 3:30 I left for the YP. I saw Wendy for the first time in ages. Left at 10. Got a bus back to Guiseley. Andrew, Ally's brother, stays the night with us because his parents are at a party on Westgate. A nice, quiet boy. He slept on my bedroom floor in a sleeping bag.

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Thursday August 16, 1979

_. Pisses down with rain all day. I feel atrocious, and not particularly with drink. Delia phoned to say how distraught she is about the Bill North groping saga. She says the man will never darken her doorstep again. As if.

Out again with Ally. First to the Cow & Calf and then the Rose and Crown in Ilkley. On to Oakwood. Better than last week. We didn't get quite so pissed. I sloshed cider everywhere but I soon dried out on the dance floor.

Tonight my thoughts turned to Christine and the many good times we shared at Oakwood Hall. Married! I simply refuse to believe it.

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Wednesday August 15, 1979

_. I went to Horsforth at 4:30 to meet Doreen, an old friend of Delia's and Sarah's godmother. She is insane. We went to a shop to buy flash cubes for Delia's camera. Sarah dreading the prospect of the coming evening with the ghastly Bill North. At 7:30 they rolled in, Barbara Wheeler, Olive, Bill North, &c. Bill became immediately intoxicated and stood reciting a monologue in the style of Hermione Gingold. Poor Barbara almost collapsed in her efforts to stifle hysteria. As we left the sitting room for the dining room and food I suffered the nauseating experience of being groped by Bill, who patted and caressed my buttocks. Obviously he was hideously pissed, but this is no excuse. In my endeavours to escape the old perv's clutches I almost collided with the avocado mousse [like liquidised privet clippings].

Sarah had a phone call from Richard Burke telling her of a party at Parker's wine bar for a couple of lads who are clearing off to Greece. She immediately summoned a taxi and off we went to Leeds.

At Parker's the usual 'Regent brigade' were out in force. I immediately made a bee-line for Jacq and Linda and proceeded to rob them of cigarettes and white wine. I amused them with the tale of my assault. At midnight Sarah went off with Richard, which was naughty of her. Jacq drove me home.

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Tuesday August 14, 1979

_. Dull day. I won't bore you with the details of the office. Later, Ally and I sitting on a sofa. Imagine the scene. She's reading 'Decline and Fall', and I'm eating perhaps the juiciest, squirty orange ever grown. Ally is soaked in orange juice, pips dangling from her perm, the pages of Evelyn Waugh's masterpiece stuck together.

Ally started reading 'Watership Down' but didn't get past page 18. I can understand why.

In the news: Princess Margaret and Roddy Llewellyn are on holiday in Marbella. They flew out 'incognito'  to a villa owned by the Philippines ambassador to the UK. When will she make a honest man of him?

Poor, maligned Princess Anne enters her thirtieth year tomorrow. Since her marriage to 'Fog' Phillips [fog because according to Charles he's 'thick and wet'] she has gone into a steady decline in the affections of the public. According to a new biography she and the Prince of Wales hate each other, and the prince resents Mark Phillips, considering him to be of low intelligence.

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Monday August 13, 1979

_. Maria and the babies came for tea and we had salad and mounds of Mama's homemade bread. Susan and Ally took off to a sauna where they are slowly steaming themselves to death. Women these days are turning into Americans with weekly trips to saunas, solariums, swimming meetings, &c. What next? Weekly trips to the psychiatrist? __________.

Allys is reading 'Decline and Fall' by Evelyn Waugh. I didn't get round to reading it until Christmas. See a film on TV starring Julie Andrews as Gertrude Lawrence - 'Star'. Bed nearly 12.

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Sunday August 12, 1979

_. 9th Sunday after Trinity

Sue and Pete are home from Cornwall and are keeping very quiet about their holiday. Have things not gone well, perhaps? I suppose they are upset that Lynn & Dave are continuing the 'grand tour' without them. They [Lynn and Dave] are moving on to the Gribble Inn at Little Torrington, Devon. Dave is looking forward to the strip-tease act which takes place in this disgraceful tavern every Friday.

Saw three Alfred Hitchcock films today in celebration of the old boy's 80th birthday tomorrow. 'Thirty Nine Steps' in the afternoon, and  'To Catch a Thief' and 'Psycho' in the evening.

Maria with JPH and Catherine called here in the afternoon, but didn't stay long.

I am paralysed from the waist down and my eyes have gone square.

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Saturday August 11, 1979

_. Before retiring last night Ally and I listened to Rachmaninov's 2nd piano concerto [Maura Lympany] sprawled on the dining room carpet. We decided to go out for luncheon today - and WE DID!  At 12:30 we went into Leeds and ate steak at Jacomelli's on Boar Lane. Rare rump steak and red wine. Wonderful conversation. Ally insisted on paying for our lunch and  the £7.44 will be forever engraved upon my heart. Afterwards we walked across Leeds hand in hand gazing into shops and making the usual noises associated with 'window shopping'.

Out tonight with Ally, Dave L, and Maria. A weird combination, but we had a fun evening. Dave is always an adventurous drinker, and he took us to the Travellers Rest at Crimple. We only ever venture in that direction with David. Maria told us all the sordid details of child-bearing. _____.

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Friday August 10, 1979

_. Gruesome headache. Did very little all morning and sat at my desk feeling sick and shattered. Kathleen is away, at Auntie Mary's funeral, which is convenient. I sat at my desk, with my feet up blatantly reading volume 2 of Churchill's 'History of the English Speaking Peoples' and praising God that Mrs Mary McHale had chosen this day to be reunited with her dear husband Tom. R.I.P.

To lunch with Sarah and Eileen to Da Mario's for pizzas. Shared a table with a couple of wasteful creatures who poked and prodded at their food with a total lack of interest. I felt nauseous. Leaving the restaurant we bumped into Jacq at a bus stop. ___________.

This evening Ally and I decided upon a pub crawl. We did the Hare and Hounds [I spoke to Judith], the White Cross, the Shoulder of Mutton, the Commercial [Annie and Ron Lindley have gone taking all with them]. Home at 10:50 to watch the Marx Brothers in 'Duck Soup' - excellent. Bed at 1:20.

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Thursday August 9, 1979

_. Just Ally and I to the Cow and Calf and later Oakwood Hall. ________. We did not go out until after 9pm but made up for it in the bar. She drank like a large fish. I overheard a girl in the bar confide in a friend that my Hawaiian-style shirt resembled 'two dishcloths stitched together'.

At Oakwood we continued down our destructive path towards vagrancy and destitution drinking Pernod and cider in obnoxious proportions. We behaved like savages on the dance floor. Groping, kissing, etc. It resembled a scene from a 1942 film where the young army captain is taking leave of his bride after two days leave to go get himself shot in the Balkans. I was Tyrone Power.

Coffee and sandwiches at 3:30am.

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Wednesday August 8, 1979

_. Margaret and Jim came here this evening instead of the traditional Thursday because they are venturing to Redcar tomorrow. They do not enthuse about the prospects of a wet day at the races. I bet they end up at the White Cross at lunch time.

I have neglected my royal deliberations recently. What with the Queen's victorious visit to Zambia and the escapades of the Prince of Wales and Prince Andrew with the Guinness sisters I have had ample opportunity to lecture, but have held back. You must forgive this boring patch.

I retired to bed at 12 full to bursting with pork pies and salad sandwiches. I will resemble Orson Welles before long.

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Tuesday August 7, 1979

_. People are telling me I'm putting on weight. I'm paying now for being a ten stone weakling for my first quarter of a century. Is 12st excessive for a 6ft 25 year old? On a happier note a trainee journalist approached me today and mistook me for a classmate. The pimply 19 year-old youth thought I was a teenager.

Took a bath. Early to bed.

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Monday August 6, 1979

_. Bank Holiday in Scotland & Irish Republic

A wet, hideous day. Home at five to see Hilda and Tony who came over to collect Ruby and Arthur. Maria and the children come here too. She misses John. The Gadsbys make off with the Pearces to Pudsey. Ruby cannot be long for this world.

JPH stayed to tea and ate roast beef, chips, salad, and mounds of chocolate cake. At 7 I carried the monster home to Ridgeway so that he could talk to his Papa - who phoned just as we arrived.

Molly went on for what seemed like ages on the pros and cons of buying a swing for the garden. I sipped my ale peacefully, trying not to glaze over.

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Sunday August 5, 1979

_. 8th Sunday after Trinity

Never have I felt so diabolical. I regained consciousness at 11am. Poor Ally was next to me shrouded in sheets and resembled the tomb of Princess Charlotte of Wales in St George's Chapel, Windsor.

Later we took presents to Karen & Steve's house, but we didn't stay long. Came home in the Spitfire with roof down to blow away the cobwebs. We collapsed onto the sofa listening to Tchaikovsky's 'Romeo & Juliet' , but this tranquil scene was shattered by the arrival of Maria with JPH and Catherine. They walked from Ridgeway, Maria pushing the pram. Mum and Dad had gone out for the day into the Dales with Ruby and Arthur. Maria laughed at our pathetic state.

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Saturday August 4, 1979

_. Lynn phoned at breakfast time to say they were safely in Cornwall. Susan slept from Shipley to Dartmoor where they had a moorland breakfast.

I tore up roses in the garden and various other blooms and made floral arrangements for our button-holes. Mum and Dad left for Pudsey at 11:15 with Ruby and Arthur, and Ally and I went up to Morrisons to cash a cheque and didn't get to the church until noon, just before the bride arrived. Pudsey Parish Church was looking somewhat tatty. I haven't entered the place since the bride's parents married here on Christmas Eve 1955.

The wedding breakfast took place at the Civic Centre. Ham salad followed by trifle. At 4pm some inconsiderate guest let off a stink bomb, which brought the proceedings to a sudden end. We sought refuge at Auntie Hilda's where we had drinks on the lawn. Hilarious. Something of a piss-up. I wore Mum's hat, and Tony was wearing a fetching blue creation. Mum met her old friend Shirley Hardaker.

Later the party continued at Farsley Celtic Football Club. Me wearing my Hawaiian-style shirt. A tolerable evening. Back to Hilda's where Ally and I drank rum and orange with Jill and Tim. We all slept in various corners of the house, but not until about 4am.

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