Saturday April 6, 1974

Wake up at 10.30 to find John missing, Helen in Mama's bed, and Chris in Lynn's small hutch. Helen may be a nice travelling companion, but she makes a terrible breakfast friend - she doesn't realise it but she's extremely rude, and a terrible bore.

Very mad that the Gadsby bunch didn't send me a birthday card or any recognition of the fact that I have celebrated an anniversary of my birth. After all, it was dear Auntie Hilda who ran for several miles on the night of April 5, 1955 to inform Uncle Albert, Grandad and Granny that I had arrived upon this earth. Can you imagine Auntie Hilda running like hell down Stanningley Bottom? I bloody well can't.

At 8 o'clock I go see June at her sister's in Guiseley. We sit until 1.0am watchingt tv and making eyes at each other from opposite sides of the room. Honestly, she knows I'm captivated by her but it makes no difference whatsoever. See the Eurovision Song Contest. Ugh! Then a documenary on 'Count Dracula' - by now we're both hand in hand on the sofa, more of a measure against fear and anything to do with romance. Ring John at 1.15 who is entertaining Chris, Linda, Christina W and Peter in front of the tv. Hurry home. Everyone looks miserable as purity.

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Friday April 5, 1974

My 19th birthday. Up at 7 and Lynn and Sue present me with a polo-necked jumper (a nice cream colour), and Mama gives me £3. When I leave for the YP it's the last time I will see the family until Sunday night. Mum waves me off at the door with a: "take care of yourself", etc. A rather beautiful morning, though birthdays are always disappopinting somehow, and never fail to let me down with a feeling of 'nothingness' if that makes any sense at all. Rush home from the YP and June rings me. The silly female absolutely refuses to come to my party tonight, and no pleading on my part can possibly make her change her mind. I don't particularly feel upset by her refusal, and it is all I expected. Lorraine, her chaperone, rings me twice and says that June must be insane, and that she's been undecided all day about whether to come or not, June I mean. MM, Marita, Denny and David arrive at about 8.30 and they drag me off to the Fox and Hounds, Menston. By about 10.30 I'm totally gone - intoxicated I mean, and we're all back at Pine Tops living it up. I ecventually have ________with Denny and Christine White. Well, it is my birthday! Little Helen Willis arrives at about midnight, and by 2am Chris, Helen and me are the only people left - MM and crowd disappeared early on - after devouring an Easter egg which George's girlfriend had bought John. Pigs they are! -==-

Thursday April 4, 1974

Uncle Peter born 1929. A glorious day. June finally rang me at about 7 o'clock and it's like a dream come true. Evidently, tomorrow will be a romantic night for me after all, and she's actually coming to Pine Tops. However, I very much doubt whether she'll remain until the birthday celebrations are finished..._____.

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Wednesday April 3, 1974

Overcast, but warm day. Nothing of any interest happens at the YP, though Anne seems to have given everyone a cold. Carol went round sneezing all afternoon.

Still no word from June, and I'm now feeling quite desperate. My apetite is nearly non-existant, and for four days I've had a terrible sinking feeling in my stomach. At about 5.20 I passed the Bottomley residence on the 33 bus, and saw a pair of June's jeans fluttering in the breeze on Mrs B's little washing line. So, although I've had no word from the darling creature herself, the trousers proved to me, and indeed to everyone who cares to look, that June does actually exist. This is a relief anyway, because for a day or two I have felt that the whole of Saturday evening was a mirage or dream, conjured up by my poor demented brain.

The bus journey made a nice change from the train, which is all very nice, but Judith tends to become slightly overbearing at times.

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Tuesday April 2, 1974

Still no message from June. Oh God! It's so frustrating. My concentration is out altogether and I cannot think of anyone or anything else. She dominates my existence.

Rush home from the YP expecting a call from her, but nothing came. Driving lesson at 6.30 - and we went all over the place - going through a massive amount of petrol. However, I did manage to handle the automobile through Bradford, reaching home safely at 7.30. A boring evening. See tv until the 9 o'clock news starts, but not wishing to extend my misery I leave the room, where I now compile my diary.

You'll have to excuse all the gaps, but I keep taking up my pen, then the urge to commit anything to paper dies before I have time to preserve my thoughts for posterity here in these papges. As I've already attempted to communicate, my mind is on other things at the moment.

Hear at about 10.15 on the tv that President Pompidou of France died tonight. Mother went round for thest of the evening saying: "I told you so", because she's apparently been watching the French President's movements for weeks, and is of the opinion that the foor devil had leukaemia or something. France is in chaos.

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Monday April 1, 1974

The morning began with a beautiful event. Whilst leaving City Station I saw June and Mrs Bottomley entering, and I managed to speak a few words to her. She was on her way to another interview at a college of education. The ethereal beauty of the Bottomley girls is quite breathtaking. June is my whole life - never do I desire to love another woman. However, she did notice that Judith R was with me, and a flicker of semi-jealous curiosity fleetingly crossed her face. I could see that quite clearly. Sadly, she doesn't ring me tonight either and I wonder whether she really wants to see me again. My one chance of hope lies with the girl who accompanied June to the Emmotts on Saturday - she kept urging me to take June's hand saying she really wanted me to take her out again, but dared not make moves in that direction herself. The chaperone thinks that I will not go out with June again because of my dignity! How very mistaken she is indeed.

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Sunday March 31, 1974

Passion Sunday. A beautiful day - the sun shining brilliantly down on a happy earth. Everyone is thrilled that I am 'going out' with June again though John simply smiles with disbelief. Last night brought me out of a misery I have endured since August 24, a hell of 218 days and nights. I never want to be separate from June ever again - we are made for one another, if you can say such a thing without appearing corny, but this is surely the case.

My mind keeps drifting back to last night at the Emmotts - she says she will go with me on Sunday, but I got her to say Saturday, and it seems as though my 19th birthday party will not be graced with her beauty and I'm quite desolate. This afternoon I thought 'Shall I write to her?' but decide that she would not wish it. After all, I wrote many letters from September till Xmas without any reply, though she says she compiled 2 letters then destroyed them. However, we shall see.

The Gadsby clan came over for tea and stayed until the early hours. Uncle Tony seems much improved on last time - no doubt the climate of recent days agrees with his constitution.


'Billy Don't be a Hero' Paper Lace.

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