Monday April 9, 1979

_. It poured down from dawn till dusk. Whatever became of the long, warm Spring which was forecast in the delightful EP?

Carol J paid me £10 for doing the bathroom and asked me whether I would possibly do the wall behind the door in that same, auspicious room. I leapt at the chance. It will only take me ten minutes.

Delia phoned and was most revealing. She told me she had argued with Sarah late last week at the cruel way S had sent me to Coventry for giving her that "frightful cold". She told Sarah to pull herself together and start being nice to me once again. She can be a horrid, precocious child at times. I'd love to be given the opportunity to really sort her out. In a brutal, forceful Clint Eastwood sort of way.

The general election campaign is already in full swing. A month of codswallop and blatant lies from our beloved pin-striped PM is something I can do without. Jim Callaghan really should do the honourable thing and shoot himself. It would be far better to go now than to wait until May 3 and suffer the same fate as King Charles I, Mr Hoveyda, the former Jamaican premier and poor Zulfikar Ali Bhutto, who died by hanging last week simply because he was the leader of a defeated party. Margaret Hilda [Thatcher] seems to have the right idea. She says she is ignoring the campaign for a while because she doesn't want to bore the pants off Joe Electorate. Hoe right and clever of the sainted Margaret.

To bed at 1:12am.

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Sunday April 8, 1979

_. Palm Sunday

Yes, Sarah was carried screaming from the party over David's shoulder at about 6am, leaving me alone with Jacq and the debris of half consumed drinks and piles of cig ends. We ate toast and drank tea due to a coffee shortage and huddled together on a large bean bag. ____________.

I crept in at home at about 9am and devoured boiled eggs and looked at the Sundays [papers]. The Countess of Snowdon is expecting a baby in the autumn. It's her first and she's 37 years old.

At 10 I went to Carol J's flat in Horsforth to hang wallpaper in her bathroom, and did so with great skill and patience until 6:30pm. I felt quite satisfied with the job afterwards. Carol was delighted, so much so that she drove me home [still in pouring rain]. Women and vehicles are a weird combination. Watched TV and ate until 10 and found myself unable to stay awake and staggered off to bed. Completely shagged out.

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Saturday April 7, 1979

_. Out to the Ostlers at lunchtime with Jacq. Saw Lynne Mather but we didn't speak. Well, it has been three years. Home in pouring rain at 5:30 to prepare myself for the party at Linda's.

To the Regent at Chapel Allerton with Lynn and Dave at 8:30. Sarah, Carol J, Marilyn, Beverley W, Sue, Pete, Chippy, Dave W, &c. Had a tremendous night with most people in party mood. Lynn didn't like the crowds but an injection of pernod did the trick.

All the Regent mob returned to the house party. From the outset Dave B was in great shape. I've worried about him for a while. He seems to have really quietened since his wedding. Sarah was on top form. We danced to Donna Summer and howled with laughter at everything. Jacq was sweet too.

Have you ever sipped pomagne from a frog-shaped shampoo bottle? I have. We also did some strange things with a rubber shower attachment from the bathroom. Lynn and Dave took Sarah home and I sat with Jacq until the first bus came at 7:30am. Pissing down with rain.

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Friday April 6, 1979

_. Princess Michael of Kent gave birth to a son today. I had understood that the young Windsor would be 'Master [Christian name] Windsor, but I am wrong. The child will bear the courtesy title of 'Lord' before his name even though his father is not a peer and even though the Queen's own grandson is a 'master'. A ruling by King George V fifty years ago declared that great-grandchildren of the sovereign, in the male line, would rank as children of duke of England, or words to that effect. Lord 'Fred' Windsor is 16th in line of succession to the throne.

To Da Mario's on the Headrow at lunchtime with Sarah, Carol J and Eileen. I had no real appetite but had minestrone soup and a seafood pizza. Sarah has forgiven me now for passing on my germs. _________.

Jacq phoned and enquired about the party tomorrow. I wasn't very talkative. Too hungover. I didn't want to discuss the purchasing of cocktail sausages and tins of salmon.  I left her saying I would speak tomorrow, when I hope to be functioning better.

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Thursday April 5, 1979

_. To work by omnibus ~ I missed Jim because of my birthday hangover. Did minimal work and devoured a coffee and walnut cake  from fair Aunt Delia. Cards from Sarah and Eileen saying "to our favourite pain in the neck". I like it. I would like to be remembered as a favourite pain in the neck by everyone. Anything is better than blending in with the woodwork. Felt ghastly all day. At 12:30 I met Mum & Dad, Lynn and Dave at Len's Bar for drinks and sandwiches. Saran and Eileen came over for an hour but it was a very quiet affair. Dad was especially quiet because he came straight to Leeds from a colleague's funeral. Pall bearer for Albert Shaw to party-goer with Michael Rhodes. Lynn drank Pernod. Alison was the main subject of conversation once again. Lynn can be very vicious. I'm sure she's Yorkshire Light Aircraft's answer to Henry VIII.

On to Morrison's and then on to Lawn Road for drinks. Jim and Margaret came too. At 9 I joined Peter, Chippy, Dave W and Neil Addyman at the White Cross. Drank vast amounts of Pernod and lager and then went to Oakwood. Addyman was just back from skiing in Gstaad, or somewhere. Was drunk, but an uneventful night. Smoked lots of Embassy cigarettes and didn't dance with anyone. "Come on, it's your birthday!" didn't move me one bit. Home horribly late.

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Wednesday April 4, 1979

_. The party with John and Sheila continued today. Home from the YP and a few hours later they arrived once again with Valerie and Graham. Auntie Hilda arrived at 9 and Uncle Tony followed on at 11 with his Liberal agent, who was clad from head to foot in red corduroy ~ just the sort of clothes you'd expect to see a Liberal agent wearing. Oh, and why do people who meddle in local politics always wear suede shoes?

It was good to see Tony again. He looked pale and tired but this probably due to a combination of the coming election and the death of his mother. John and Tony made a good conversational combination, and Hilda was nice. It was an excellent pre-birthday party. They all sang "Happy Birthday" to me at midnight. We discussed politics. John laughed until he cried as I explained my reasons for preferring to live under the yoke of a right-wing dictatorship to a left-wing dictatorship.

Hilda made the statement that I am a "confirmed bachelor". In other words she thinks I'm a poof. I objected to this. I may currently be a single man, but dislike people pigeon-holing me. Drank until the early hours.

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Tuesday April 3, 1979

_. Auntie Hilda phoned today to say Karen and Steve are going out babysitting on Saturday and so we cannot have the Grand Gadsby-Rhodes reunion this time. Thwarted again. She told Mum that cousin Derek's wife, Jennifer, is expecting her second baby in November. Karen phoned at 7:30 to say we can all have the great gathering on April 14, which is the day before Easter. I readily agree, and communicate this news to Sue. Mum and Dad with Hilda and Tony are probably going to stay with Ruby and Arthur for Easter, and so the house at Pudsey will be void of parents and eligible for an orgy. Alison is also coming for Easter, and so she'll be included in the party. Gosh, I can hardly wait.

At about 8:30 in walked John and Sheila, from Lanzarote, with Valerie and her boyfriend Graham, a law student at Nottingham Polytechnic. It was such a surprise because we haven't seen them since Christmas, 1977, and following the boycotting of Lynn's wedding, I thought we'd seen the last of them.

Uncle John is just the same self-assured, suave businessman. He never has a penny but is always on the verge of making a fortune. The gold mine is always just around the corner.  At 11pm they run Valerie and Graham to Harrogate, and then come back to stay the night with us. We discussed Lanzarote and our wayward, insane family. From Blackpool to Selby and from the Canary Isles to Stranraer we are making our mark on the world.

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