Friday November 8, 1974

Someone from the EP newsdesk came over this morning asking what we know about Lady Lucan. I filled in the details. She is of course the Countess of Lucan. 'But is she Lady Lucan or Countess of Lucan?' he asks. I told him to start with Countess and drop to Lady in the second par. It seems that the Lucan nanny has been found murdered this morning and the countess herself is critically ill. The police are looking for the earl 'who cannot be contacted'. You can bet your bottom dollar that His Lordship has done away with the nanny and then attempted to kill her Ladyship. We'll have to wait and see.

Lord Lucan.

To the Hare & Hounds and then Wikis in the evening with Dave Lawson amongst the usual set. It's the first time Dave's been to our Friday night spot, and I can't say he didn't enjoy it because he did. I drank guinness for most the night and was sick twice. John went home alone quite early without giving any explanation for this anti-social action. Dave brought me home at 1.30 and we sat in the lounge discussing our childhood escapades together and laughing ourselves silly. Bed at 2.30.










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Thursday November 7, 1974

Day off. Up at about 10 and do nothing until about 11. Dad goes to Morrison's on a wild goose chase for something called sugar, a crystal-like substance believed to have been extinct for 200m years. Whether he'll get any or not is a debatable point, and I don't hang around to find out. Go into work arriving at 10 after 12. Kathy passes on a message from Sarah who is spending her lunch hour at Whitelocks. I join them at about 20 past. Carol sits brooding over a gin and tonic. She says Michael asked her for a divorce the other day because he wants to enjoy himself before he grows too old. I consider this to be a bloody liberty. Michael Johnson may well be only 22 but he's married now and it's his own silly fault if he's now got cold feet. I despise weakness and half-heartedness where marriage is concerned. I don't give a damn about how people treat one another when they aren't united in Holy wedlock, but when the plunge is taken it really should be forever, commanding love and respect on both sides. The character of Michael Johsnon is not to be desired. Home at nearly 3 to see 'The Forsyte Saga' on TV. Have fish and chips followed by crumpets for lunch.

Hear on the 6 o'clock news that dear old Sir Alec Douglas-Home is now ennobled with a peerage once again. Will he be Lord Home or Lord Douglas-Home, I don't know. It's only a feeble life peerage of course, not the real thing.

Haven't heard from Lynne all week and am not going to bother ringing her either. She's going off on Friday_____. See Monty Python which gives us all cronic hysteria as usual, then see the corny Evening Standard Film Awards where Glenda Jackson is to be seen receiving lots of medals, trophies and acclaim, from an audience consisting of 300 drunken film extras in evening dress.

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Wednesday November 6, 1974

A horrible day. Carol doesn't come in at all, and Kathy is off all day. Sarah and I laugh and joke about last night. Find a letter on my desk from the mass murderess Judith Theresa Ward to her brother and sister-in-law. Tommy Ward must have sent it in to editorial for publication and it's somehow found it's way to my desk. I reproduce the contents here in my diary.

(Letter from Judith Ward transcribed in full).

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Tuesday November 5, 1974

Bonfire Night, &c, &c.

YP all day and then go to Birstall on the bus with Sarah, Michael Johnson and Carol. Michael and I make a 'Guy Fawkes' with old clothes whilst the girls mess about in the kitchen.

Start drinking at about 8 o'clock when the fire is lit, and in the space of two and a half hours Sarah and I polish off a bottle of Cinzano Bianco and a further half bottle of Dry Martini. As you may well imagine, Sarah had to sit down, being unable to stand any longer, and by midnight she could think of nothing else other escaping to a dark room and sleep. I joined her on Carol's bed where we lay shivering with cold 'neath Sarah's black fur coat. We debate for ages on how exactly Carol and Michael can possibly sleep under such conditions. We arrive at the conclusion that the Johnsons are a good deal larger, and undoubtedly more passionate than we are, and this can be the only reason. Sarah goes off into a southern drawl when she's intoxicated and it sounds acutely comical. We're in bed until 2am and Michael wakes us when our taxi arrives.

Home at a quarter to three with the picture of Sarah's lips firmly embedded upon my mind forever. The amiable lady in the taxi looked far less attractive when she asked for her £3.90 fare. To bed feeling horribly drunk and remember, but only vaguely, being sick. I blame the pate which I devoured - liver never agrees with me.

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Monday November 4, 1974

See in the morning editions that the new Royal baby is to be called Alexander Patrick Gregers Richard, and not William like that old hag in the Daily Express prophesised. I must admit that I was more than surprised at the choice of names. I can understand Richard and Patrick which complement the baby's father and the earldom of Uslter, but not Alexander which is rarely used as a first Christian name for royal babies.

Sarah and I are on tip toes with excitement about tomorrow's party & are quite determined to become intoxicated. Eileen is back after almost two weeks absence. Home at 6 and spend half an hour on the phone with Marita. She isn't at all surprised at my break from Lynne and seems positively jubilant. She says she realised something was afoot when I asked my so-called girlfriend to sit on the floor in the Hare & Hounds on Friday. MM was positively horrified by this gesture and says something must have come over me to drag me from the usual high standard track of morals and etiquette, regarded for many years as a phenomenon in the area.

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Sunday November 3, 1974

21st after Trinity. Wake at 11.30 and lay in bed with the radio on until after 12. Nice lunch again, followed by a hideous Danny Kaye film on TV which put the dampeners on everything.John goes with Mum and Dad to Bradford to collect his car which somebody's been trying to fix since before Adam was a lad. Lynn sits in her room doing her college homework and Alison and I sit in the dining room catching quick bursts of recitals of Lynn's essays from upstairs. (Yes folks, I do have a sister who talks to herself). A good afternoon, but uneventful.

Decide to go out quite alone tonight and never intend going out with Lynne again. The infatuation is over at last after 27 days. Just before John and I go to the Hare, Lynne rings from Harrogate and says she may be going to the Hare with her friend (in her car) at about 9 o'clock. I say little and make it quite obvious that I don't care what she does with herself. Dave Baker brings Lynn and Carol, and Chris comes very late as usual. Ray brings a college friend called John and so too comes Laura with that big-headed swine, Martin. All back to Pine Tops for coffee.

Carol was behaving most oddly tonight and never made any attempt to communicate with poor John. Bed after reading 'Lord Emsworth & Others'. (PS - Lynne went at 10.30 and said goodbye as if she was a bishop leaving a village fete after performing the opening ceremony. What else can one possibly say?)

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Saturday November 2, 1974

Birth of Edward V, 1470.

Lovely morning at the YP. At 12 Sarah and I go for the bus and she more than hints that I should join her in the Queen's at Horsforth for the afternoon. I readily agree, but then to my dismay I discover that I've got a mere 29p on my person and 20 of those pence are required for my bus fare. I am compelled to decline this perfect invitation and stand back to see my Angel mount her bus and disappear into the drizzle of a wet afternoon.

Don't rellish the thought of escorting Lynne tonight. At 6.30 we decided that she couldn't come because Peter wasn't coming out, but dear Christopher persuaded him to do so and we arranged to meet in the Hare at 8.30 - Lynne included. Dave Lawson, full of pneumonia, and clad in a tartan scarfe arrives for John and I at 8.15 and we are soon at the Hare. Marita and MM are already inside. All the mob come, including Lynn and Dave and Martyn and Alison. Drink Guinness and then Campari and tell Marita that I intend to finish with Lynne and she comments that Lynne is too serious to make any progress with a raving, idiotic comic like myself. All move on to the Red Lion in Burley-in-Wharfedale at 9.30 and then to the Cow & Calf at Ilkley, where I haven't been since before Christmas last year. Dave didn't come because of his cold, and MM and Marita went to see Denny, who has been absent from the crowd since I started this ridiculous relationship with Lynne. Lynn and Dave and the other 2 went home. Pleasant do at the Cow & Calf - most of us got drunk, or at least fairly fresh (except Peter , who has a position to keep, and ___, who thinks he has a position to keep). Home after 1am in time to see poor Dave B leave after sitting at home with Lynn since 11 o'clock.

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