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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