Sunday March 10, 1974

2nd in Lent. Edward VII married Alexandra, 1863. Prince Edward born 1964. Wake up at 8.20 on the sofa in the dining quarters of a strange house. The mother of my host thrusts a weak, milky coffee onto my lap and laughs at my apparent lack of awareness of time, place, month or year. Vic piles me into a car and at 8.45 and I am standing in the bleak bus station at Ilkley. One of Andy's pals joins me on a 63 and I stagger home to be in time for breakfast. Mum thinks I am mad and Dad simply laughs at my obvious vitality.


'Jealous Mind' Alvin Stardust.

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Saturday March 9, 1974

A wild party this evening in Burley-in-Wharfedale. One of Andy's acquaintances, Vic, celebrated a birthday or something, and I stayed all night. John, Chris, Andy and Pete went to the Cow and Calf and then went home. I was intolerably drunk, the first time since Christmas, and made many friends, all trying to find a cure for my hiccoughs which ruined the evening (if that is what you can call 3am). The last thing I can remember was collapsing onto a sofa at about 3.30. Vic's mother is a nurse, with a great sense of humour, and when I regained consciousness at 8.20am on March 10 I imagined for a fleeting moment that I was in hospital due to the fact that the dear was still in her uniform, with black tights as well!

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Friday March 8, 1974

Death of William III, 1702. Birth of Mabel Wilson, 1919.

Go sod orf, matey!

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Thursday March 7, 1974

PEOPLE I DO NOT LIKE VERY MUCH IN PUBLIC LIFE:-

1. The Right Honourable James Harold Wilson, MP.

2. Max Bygraves.

3. Her Royal Highness The Duchess of Kent.

4. All Labour MPs.

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Wednesday March 6, 1974

Lynn's birthday. John gave her £2, and so did I. Susan made a contribution, but obviously she couldn't give as much as we did. No large family celebration will take place, and instead she's taking a party out to dinner this evening. Martyn, Alison, Christine Dibb, Peter and Susan all to the CW. No doubt they'll all get merry - if Toffer has anything to do with it.

I go to bed unusually early, and when Lynn comes in after 12 she reeks of pernod - but is not intoxicated. Grief, I cannot understand why she enjoys birthdays so much - personally I cannot pretend to become over enthusiastic with my annual anniversary, but I suppose the female angle on birthdays makes them more enjoyable.

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Tuesday March 5, 1974

Diaries are such silly things really. A diary is the place where a diarist can release all his inhibitions, torrents of criticisms and fears. Strangely enough, my diary is neither interesting or amusing. I don't pull people to pieces or secretly idolise some poor acquaintance...


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Monday March 4, 1974

A very historic day today. Take breakfast at 7.30, and the radio is disapointing again, giving nothing away on the present Constitutional crisis. All they can say is that Jeremy Thorpe holds the balance of power and the result of the Liberal/Tory negotiations will be announced today. Nothing is announced in any editions of the EP, but at 6.30 the result is announced on 'Nationwide'. Poor Mr Heath, having failed to unite with the Liberals, handed his resignation to the Queen. The scene outside No, 10 was stunning. Thousands of people shouting. Women weeping. Photographers waiting for the kill like half-starved vultures. Poor Mr Heath had to face them all at 6.30. At about 8 it was announced that Her Majesty had asked Mr Wilson to form a Labour government, which he accepted. So, within the space of 90 minutes Mr Heath was gone, and Harold and Mary were braving the Press and photographers on the steps of No 10. However, I must stress the point that the Labour Government is not like the one which took office in '64 - with the slightest opposition they can be defeated in the Commons and yet another General Election will be thrust upon our poor countrymen.

Dad sits smugly in his chair saying he knew all along that Harold would get back into office. Poor Ted is no doubt quite doomed to extinction now. I cannot really see him being returned to No, 10 ever again - poor old slob - he must feel a bit. I stagger to bed sobbing my heart out (not) - a Labour Government - ugh!

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Sunday March 3, 1974

1st in Lent. Out of bed at 10.30. Lynn says Denny rang last night - completely forgot about her - no doubt she'll kill me when we next come into contact.

Still deadlock at No 10, Downing Street. Jeremy Thorpe won't say what he's agreed to do with the Prime Minister, though the BBC say the Liberals won't ally themselves with the Tory party. Well, all we can do is wait and see. I know that I am a Tory, but I don't think Mr Heath should carry on any longer as PM. The Conservative party as a whole should realise that they have been defeated and do what any honourable government should do under the circumstances.


Alvin Stardust 'Jealous Mind'.

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Saturday March 2, 1974

John wakes me at 7.45 - I nearly overslept. Run like hell into Guiseley for my train. Walk from the station to the YP, arriving at 8.55. Busy morning. I type both YP and EP sheets - not bad going really. The papers are full of Edward Heath. The poor man is determined not to resign, and he visited the Queen at Buckingham Palace tonight, presumably to inform her of his intentions. The Prime Minister is of course well within his rights to remain in office, because he can do so until he is defeated in the Commons. This will undoubtedly come next week.. Uncle Ted is hanging on by the skin of his teeth as it were.

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Friday March 1, 1974

St David's Day. Climb into bed after 4am cursing the fact that Wilson will probably be Prime Minister before night is with us once again. Awake at 7am feeling quite awake and unaffected by the late night. The BBC announce that deadlock exists with the result of the election. It seems as though neither party is capable of achieving the necessary 318 seats in order to obtain a working majority in the Commons. Jeremy Thorpe suddenly becomes important because he holds the balance of power between the two major parties. The poor Queen rushed home from Australasia with Princess Anne and Capt Phillips in order to let the nasty Mr Wilson kiss her hands. However, it isn't as simple as that, and by midnight no call from the palace has been made to either of the party leaders. Nothing like this has occurred since 1929 or something. I should know when, but the actual date slips my mind for the moment.

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Thursday February 28, 1974

Polling day throughout Britain today. I cast my vote at about 8.15 tonight, and believe it or not, I didn't really know who to plum for. However, the Conservatives receive my cross, and I left Hawksworth School to find the snow pounding down. A kindly gentleman gave me a lift home, and I sat back to watch the election results on tv. Mum and Dad went round to the Smiths and I joined them at 12 when everyone else had gone to bed. John fell to sleep laughing at the thought of bloody Harold Wilson moving into No. 10. At 4am I retire, completely unaware of who had achieved victory in this election. All the tv announcers were saying that stalemate had been achieved, and that no one party is capable of forming an administration. Anyway, at this time in the morning I don't care who gets into office - no doubt it will all turn out right in the end.

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