Thursday January 8, 1976

I have a half-day and go into town with a Barclaycard that is £1.36 overdrawn. Buy a new suit from Samuel Pepys and get home at about 2pm.

Dad goes out to see his accountant and then takes Mum off to see the Henry Jenkins pub at Kirby Malzeard.

I have the stereo at full blast until John comes in for his tea at 5.30. Mum and Dad are back at 7.30 and are greatly interested in the Henry Jenkins, though they think it's too far away really. Dad is doubtful about our chances of getting the Craven Heifer and besides, they both think the Henry Jenkins is pounds better. We are all going over on Sunday to see it - even Carole and Maria.

I go down to Carole's at 8.30 after meeting Denny in the Hare & Hounds. Tony left her to go off for a meal, and so John befriended her for an hour or so. Carole's Dad's birthday today and he came into the Hare with Mrs P.

Carole and I get the 9.30 bus to Leeds. We're in Cinderella's by 10.30 and have a great time until after 2am. The music was good, and it wasn't crowded at all. We came home by taxi (£3.50) at 2.30 and all was well with the world. Carole wore her new red dress and looked gorgeous. We will have to do this sort of thing much more often.


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Wednesday January 7, 1976

Make a start to planning the holiday. John doesn't want the girls to come. That is just one of the many simple facts causing problems here. By ditching Maria for the holiday he expects me to also drop Carole for 2 weeks so that we can have a holiday abroad together with Chris, Pete and probably Keith (Brown). I think this is a bit unfair on Carole, who has set her heart on laying besides me on some distant Mediterranean beach this summer.

David L takes Carole and I to Yeadon to see 'Monty Python and the Holy Grail'. I saw it at Bradford with Gillian Upton last summer, but still found it absolutely hilarious. Carole is quiet, and I put it down to the fact that I'm going off on holiday without her. She says that Maria wants her to go off to Belfast with her this summer. If she goes she'll be a braver person than I am. Going on holiday for a week and coming back legless, eyeless and armless isn't really my idea of a relaxing break. David too can forsee only danger in the girls chasing off to Ireland for the summer.

Home at 11.30 after calling in at the Clothiers for a quick one. Carole's mood gets me down at times. She's not boisterous like me, and I cannot understand the things that madden her.

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Tuesday January 6, 1976

Epiphany. A mild day. Sit at work thinking about holidays and worry over who is going this year and who isn't. John refuses to go away if females are included in the party. (That's his contribution to Sex Equality Year, and all that).

Chris too says he doesn't fancy sitting about on the Continent with half the female population of Guiseley, but neither do I really.

Who would have thought that Carole and Maria could have stirred up such controversy. I want to go on holiday with Carole, but not if it's just the two of us. Why nobody rellishes the idea of going in a crowd God only knows. She (Carole) rings me at 2.30 and I tell her we shall have to discuss arrangements so that some conclusion may be drawn on this vital subject shortly.

I get home at 5.30 and Mum is ranting and raving like a lunatic. Sometimes I fear for her sanity because she can carry on in a most hideous fashion when she is so inclined. I get out of her way after tea because we get on each others nerves and I find solace in my room. Fretting about the holiday arrangements, or rather the lack of them.

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Monday January 5, 1976

Everyone is back in the routine now. Christmas is over after what seems like eight weeks of merry making and festivities.

To Leeds with Jim Rawnsley at 8am. The only thing worth reading in the papers today is the tale that Lord Grosvenor, son of the Duke of Westminster, will probably marry Princess Marie-Christine of Belgium. You may think I revel in trivia and poppycock but that's how I was made and none of you can do anything to help me. Some people read only the sports pages, others gloat over grizzly court cases - I just happen to like gossip and high society news.

While I'm on the subject of scandal, you may as well hear my opinion on the Douro-Hunnicutt affair. I categorically state that Marquess Douro will NEVER marry Gayle Hunnicutt, the actress. I'm willing to put my shirt on it.

Carole rings at lunchtime and I tell her of Uncle Harry's offer to 'put us up' for the night on Feb 7. She likes the idea.

My lips cracked again today. I think the cold weather is responsible. Uncle Harry isn't the only guy who may be quiting these fair, damp islands for the eternal sun and paradise of the Continent. First Englebert Humperdink, then Elton John, Rod Stewart, and now Uncle Harry! Denis Healey's taxes are driving all the talent from these shores and I don't think he'll realise what a national loss it is until someone of REAL genius departs... like.... er...er... ME.

Dave L rings at 7pm to say he can't make it to 'Monty Python and the Holy Grail' tomorrow. Carole rings again at 7.10 and I inform her we're going on Wednesday instead. We were both pleasant and cheerful with each other.

Sunday January 4, 1976

2nd after Christmas. Wake up at about 10.30 with C. __________________________.

In the process of dressing Carole knocked her rings off the bedside cabinet and found them all but for the one I bought her for Christmas. Chris tells us not to panic and that he'll empty the room of all its contents in order to find it. Sue and Pete (who both slept in the bathroom),CD (who was violently sick all over Andrew Ratcliffe's room and made no attempt to clear it up), John, Maria, Carole and I are the only people left by 11.30am and Carole is driven off at high speed by John to the laundrette with the vomit ravaged sheets from CD's bed.

Whilst they're out Dave B rings to say her found Carole's priceless pearl ring in his pocket on his arrival home and tells me 'not to worry about it'. I give a sigh of relief and settle down with the book 'Jaws', which Chris says is completely different from the film.

Carole comes back and goes upstairs immediately to continue the search for the ring, and I'm reading for ten minutes before I realise what she's doing. I go upstairs after her and enter the bedroom. I tell her DB's news and kiss her on the lips. Immediately I can taste cigarette smoke on her breath but she denies point blank that any cigarette has passed her lips for weeks. Whilst she is making this solemn vow I glance over her shoulder to see a cigarette smouldering in an ash tray behind the curtain. We both disolve in fits of laughter and then go back to join the others.

At 12.30 Sue, Pete, CD, Carole and me leave Chris's for home in a snow storm. Carole gives me her red umberella and I use it to scale the north west face of Hawksworth Lane. Home for lunch with Mum, Dad and Uncle H. (He leaves at 10.30 Monday morning).

At 6pm I get a bus to Carole's where we argue like cat and dog until 10 o'clock. At 9.30 we went to the Chevin Inn where we both cheered up a good deal. I tell her we are both too serious to enjoy life (which is not true) and then say I talk a load of rubbish. Home at 11 o'clock for supper with Mum, Dad and Uncle H.

Bed at 1am.

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Saturday January 3, 1976

I don't emerge until nearly lunchtime, and when I do eventually arise I hear from Mama that Uncle Harry is on his way over to see us. He rang them yesterday to let them know he spent Christmas and New Year in Spain and that he is seriously thinking about buying property in that fair and sun-blessed land.

They both go off shopping leaving me to play records on the stereo at full volume. I watch TV all afternoon. Laurel and Hardy followed by a Mae West & W.C. Fields epic, which in turn is followed by a Marx Brothers classic.

Uncle H arrived at 4.30 with a camera just like mine, a bottle of 5 year-old Scotch whisky and news of the Costa Brava. He looked extremely fit and well and was a few inches the better off around his girth. He also invited us all (girlfriends and boyfriends included) to stay with him at his cottage in Ravenglass for the weekend 7/8 February.

Salad for tea. John runs me to the Hare & Hounds where we have a few drinks. I then go for Carole and CD joins us at Oakridge Palace - the Phillips ancestral pile.

We get a bus to the Fleece and stay until after 10pm. Dave L, Sue, Peter, John, Maria and all the others are in and Chris's party gets going at about 11pm. I cannot render myself even remotely sloshed, and neither can Dave L. We just stand about watching people slide under the tables and chairs. CD, Alison and poor Darling Carole are all smitten with the vomits, and I put a stop to the loud party rabble at 3am by ringing Chris from a phone booth at the top of the street pretending to be an agitated neighbour. Chris was in on the plan of course, and he played along nicely. Everyone seemed a good deal quieter when I got back.

At 2am I discovered Carole in bed with cronic stomach pains. __________________________.



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Friday January 2, 1976

Snow still covering most of the area. I can't help thinking that this Bing Crosby type weather is two weeks too late. Crispy snow is all very well on Christmas Eve, but I can't agree with it coming and hanging around at the beginning of January. Most unpleasant and awkward.

Mum is 41 today and Dad is 42. They don't look a day over 35 and I'm proud to be the owner of such a handsome pair of parents. We all gave them cards. I didn't give them a present because I bought them whisky on New Years Eve. Carole came up at 9pm with a present for them. Lovely and thoughtful of her.

At 9.30 Dad takes us to the Hare where all the others are assembled with the exception of Dave L. We drink gin and orange, and Peter N even had his own bottle of gin with him. At 10.30 Raymond took Carole and I to Harry Ramsden's, where we had fish and chips wrapped and delivered to Pine Tops by Dave B while the two of us went by bus.

We all sat about laughing and joking about the New Years Eve party and the saga of the size of our Christmas tree in comparison with the Macdonald's tree. Dave took Carole home at about 1.30.

Carole is going to town tomorrow and doesn't particularly want me to go with her. She seems hurt when I refuse to beg to go with her. I fancy a lazy day in bed anyway and the thought of trailing around town is OUT.

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