Thursday December 23, 1976

What a bloody laugh. Lynne beetles her way up the lane at 7.30 and we take Sue, Pete N, & Mr & Mrs Nason to the Craiglands [hotel] in Ilkley before dropping off Martyn's 'things' at his residence. Miss Mather and I then motored to Neville's Wine Bar [she prefers Neville's to the Vineyard for some ridiculous reason] and after putting away a bottle of wine I suggest going to Stuart's flat for my jeans and pullover. An innocent enough suggestion you may think - and it certainly was meant to be one, but Oh dear, just see what occurred. 

We found Stu and Andrew attempting to clean up in readiness for Mr & Mrs Walker's visit for the festive season, but I gave them leave to crack open a bottle of Scotsmac. One or two bottles later Stuart, far from being a sober manager of W.H. Smith and Sons Ltd, happened accidentally to refer to Lynne as 'Carole' - a name not unfamiliar to Miss Mather's ear-holes. With this slight she leapt from her chair with the words: 'Come on, Michael. We're going.' With a flourish she swept from the room like Lady Bracknell. I, of course, had no intention of leaving and remained firm and defiant throughout. Minutes later she's sat in her squat little car beneath the balcony of W.H. Smith's, and I proceeded to give a Mussolini-like lecture from above. Then she was gone into the darkness, not unlike [Stanley] Baldwin's departure from Fort Belvedere in 1936. 

A much warmer atmosphere was circulating in the upper chambers of that bastion of book selling. In fact the mood of we three lads was not unreminiscent of the aura circulating in the private suite of Adolf Hitler on the night he made himself chancellor of the Third Reich. [That's enough dictators, I think]. Minutes later, Stuart, Andrew and I were at the Stoney Lea where we made merry until 2am. Andrew Walker Esq pinched someones cigarette lighter, which wasn't very nice, but things like this do happen when one is as pissed as he was. The theft of a lighter is a much nicer crime than say raping three nuns in the rear of taxi - or is it? [By the time you, dear reader, sit reading this rape may well have been legalised].

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Wednesday December 22, 1976

At lunchtime I go to 'Just Pants' in Leeds and lay hands on a white shirt and a red tie. Took a half day today and so at 1 o'clock I'm hurtling back to Guiseley, courtesy of West Yorkshire Road Car Co Ltd. Alight from the omnibus at 1.30 and go see Maria and the baby. On my arrival there I find Miss Phillips discussing the ins and outs of everyday things women normally discuss and I end up staying for two hours. My first conversation [with Carole] of any length - or pleasant one at any rate - since May. What more can I say? It's too daft for words, and besides, I've said it all before.

Home at 4pm and prepare for the onslaught. Martyn comes at 6.45 and Dad gives us a lift into Guiseley. By 7.30 we're at Delia's where we have a good laugh and a few tubes of lager. Chris and Peter come at 8.15 and we go out for a bus. No bus arrived until 9 o'clock. Kathleen, Carol J and Marilyn get on the bus at the Old Ball and we all head for Salvo's. Monica joins us there. The lads take one table, and the girls [like Vestal Virgins] share another. It's going to be one of those nights. We all get more than merry and the bus journey [yet another one] to the city centre was one of hysteria. The Nouveau was horrific - completely dead, and so we went by taxi to [Cinderalla] Rockerfella's. Not a particularly enjoyable evening. I was sober as a judge at midnight and we all stood around looking quite miserable at one another. Pete, Martyn, Chris and I went for a taxi at 2am and waited an hour. A car came driving past us & a naked woman passenger had her bum hanging from a window. Hilarious sight! Martyn and I get home for 3.30. Go to bed in a shagged out condition.

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Tuesday December 21, 1976

I'm not in the mood for this at all. I'd sooner be a department store detective with a large round face and horn-rimmed spectacles, with pores which open readily when agitated. [Courtesy of P.G. Wodehouse, Sir].

Good God I've just looked at the date at the head of the page. Isn't it supposed to be the shortest day of the year or something? Is June 21 the longest day? Funny how a brilliant mind can just seize up and wither.

Blimey, did you know, or were you aware of the fact that the chiefs of the clan Hay derive their name [Latinised as Haia, and later rendered into English as Hay and into Gaelic as Garadh] from an original 'Haie' or stockade on the castle motte-hill at La Haye in the Cotentin peninsula of Normandy? Their arms argent three escutcheon gules have always been the same as those borne in the Middle Ages by the ancient Norman family of La Haye, seigneurs of the Le Mesnil-Geldouin [now Le Guislain] La Haye-Hue [also called La Haye-Comtesse or La Haye-Bellefond], La Haye-Belouze, Villebandon and Beaucondray, whose fiefs border on the Soules, near St Lo. The first chief of the Scottish Hays, William de la Haye, Butler of Scotland under MALCOLM the MAIDEN, was a nephew of Ranulf de Soules, Lord Liddesdale, and also Butler of Scotland, whose family became hereditary butlers of Scotland but were fortfeited for plotting to seize the throne itself during the wars of independence. William de la Haye, Butler of Scotland under Malcolm IV anmd WILLIAM the LION, was among the nobles of the Scottish court from circa 1160, was a hostage for the Treaty of Falaise, 1174, and ambassador to England for the King of Scots in 1199.... Zzzz

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Monday December 20, 1976

What a year it's been! A good one generally but some horrific spatterings thrown in like salad dressing or mayonnaise - if you see what I mean. Surely the greatest event for the family was the birth of John Philip Hugh on Sept 30. Never have I seen a more placid, happy child. It makes one wonder how the hell we all went on without him gurgling merrily in the background. However, if he grows up thinking he's Napoleon or Elizabeth Taylor I wouldn't be surprised because every time he opens his eyes some fool takes his photograph. Forever in the limelight.

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Sunday December 19, 1976

4th in Advent. Devour a fried breakfast and then go to Thornton-le-Dale. Believe it or not I have no hangover and feel fit, vital and active. Poor Lynne is very different indeed. Three anadins later and she's still pale and tired.

I remember few of the Lazenby party details but Lynne tells me that at one stage of the evening a dwarf had my flies down in an attempt to perform a sex act upon my person - much to the amusement of the other guests. The lad didn't have to kneel down evidently. For Christ sake, I've heard it all now! Nice to know I brought a bit of joy into the miserable existence of one of our shorter beings.

Life at Thornton-le-Dale is much the same as it's always been and I cannot be bothered to comment further. Went to Pickering for a drink with Pete M and Chris and discuss the holiday [I left Lynne at home]. Pete said _______.Would I want to go on holiday with somebody who isn't perfect fun?




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Saturday December 18, 1976

Lynne and I go into Leeds at 12.30 so that I could buy her the long awaited dress I was supposed to be purchasing for Christmas. When I say we looked at forty eight million dresses I am not exaggerating. Why do men have to put up with it? By 5.30 I have a thumping headache and no patience. No suitable dresses are to be found, and so I go to Denton's and put down a £6 deposit on a garnet single stone ring. Will pay the remaining £10 next week. Lynne bought me a gold chain and a bottle of 'Eau Savage' after-shave. Buy the remaining Christmas presents and feel very relieved on the way home. In fact, the journey out of Leeds was one which can only be compared to the release of some aged criminal after spending 47 years in penal servitude. No doubt Rudolf Hess will experience that sensation one day - if he's lucky.

Back home for tea. Mum and Dad go to Jim and Molly's 30th wedding anniversary party at Acacia House. Lynne and I go down to the Hare. Speak to Judith who is working in the bar. She even bought us a drink. She is becoming fanciable indeed.

To Pete [Lazenby's] at 11 o'clock with a bottle of white wine [£2.20]. A great evening. Tony, Mandy, John Cameron and Jill come. Stand in the kitchen until 3am. Denise arrived _______. I didn't see the sordid 'do' but had a report from Jill._____. Stephanie Ferguson mistakes me for 'John Rhodes', the twin brother of 'the drip who works at the YP'. They laugh when I say Michael is my 'twindentical' brother. Don't see all that much of Peter and the evening seems to be over very quickly really. Back home to catch Mum helping a drunken Papa into the house. Bed after 4am.

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Friday December 17, 1976

See in the Daily Mail that the Prince of Wales and Davina Sheffield are attending the wedding of Richard Beckett and Elizabeth Waterhouse in Derbyshire today. It's the first we've heard of Miss S for quite some time now, but I can't help thinking that she and the heir apparent will one day 'tie the knot'. Will report on developments later.

To the Hare & Hounds with Susan and Peter at 8.30. Carole is in with Naomi again. [They were in yesterday]. I have the feeling that Carole is gloating about something. I'm willing to bet you a million quid that ____ has told her of my recent revision of my feelings, &c. 

Tony, Mandy, Martyn, Stuart, Kathryn, Chris, Pete M, and Denise all flock in. Lynne is far from pleased and goes on about being ignored by Carole & Denise. What does she expect? ________. 

We decide to go to Oakwood Hall. Tony, Mandy, Lynne and I go to the Vineyard in Ilkley until after 11. I purchased the wine [£2.20]. From here we go to Martyn's where I change into one of his suits - like a male Cinderella really. Borrow £5 from Lynne too! God, have I taken leave of my senses? All at Oakwood Hall. Speak to Carole, not in the presence of Lynne of course, and she questions me on the whereabouts of my crucifix and asks why I've taken to wearing my ring on my left hand. Mundane, but a massive improvement on previous meetings. ___must have said something to bring Carole back on the scene.

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Thursday December 16, 1976

Snow and shit. Mum had her Christmas dinner at her work today and so when, at 6.30pm, she hadn't arrived home to make the tea I began frying sausages and boiling baked beans. Maria rings to say she is holding Mama hostage at a secret address and she will only be released if I pay up £6m in cash. The only thing I can think of is the IMF. Will they provide the necessary cash to free the old lady?

Lynne comes up at 7 o'clock and after sampling my cooking we go down to the Hare & Hounds. We meet Jean [Holmes] and that dumb friend of hers along with a couple of young police constables. They leave at 9.45. I do like Jean, a sweet almost desirable being.

Oh God! I've made an error. An error indeed. Lynne and I having passed a pleasant evening at the pub, which went without a hitch. Miss Phillips was in with Miss [Naomi] Downing and Lynne was a bit peeved that Carole completely ignored her. But to get back to my nasty error. You know I don't embarrass easily, don't you? Yes, well I'm embarrassed, red in the face and shitting myself at the story I'm about to relate. On the way home from this pleasant evening I accidentally referred to Miss Mather as "Carole". I was horror-struck. Lynne said: "For Christ sake, she's been on your mind all night," and I replied "yes, I'm aware of that". Haunted - and for what reason? Bed at 11 with this embarrassing thing on my mind. SHIT!

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Wednesday December 15, 1976

It's 11.45pm and I'm sat here on the end of my bed watching blood ooze out of my right big toenail. Oh God I'm going to be a cripple by Christmas! However, discussing my personal injuries isn't going to get me into print and so I'll move on to more spectacular, seasonal events:

Mrs Johnson received the news of Mr Brotherwood's intended attendance next Wednesday with mixed emotions. At first she said she wouldn't be worried by his presence and in the next breath she said it may be a traumatic meeting. By 4.30 she was saying it wouldn't hurt if he did join us but her expression was far from ecstatic. I shall have to tell Tony it might be wiser if he boycotted the gathering.

Sarah and Eileen said today that Mrs J is beginning to take a fancy to me after all these years. I've always said that Carol must think I'm queer or something because every other male employee of the YP - possibly with the exception of me and the Hon Chris Monckton- have been seduced by Mrs Johnson. Am I now moving close to becoming a conquest?

The business of next Wednesday is worrying but I should ignore it and let them fight it out amongst themselves.

Saw June on the 33 bus again. She is great and I must still be greatly intrigued by her because for the first time in months I didn't fall to sleep on the journey and my eyes were rivetted to her throughout.

Just Susan, Peter and myself in until Papa and Mama come back from John & Maria's at 10 o'clock. See 'Carry On Loving' - rude, corny and poor but I laugh all the same. Up to bed after seeing a declining Earl Mountbatten of Burma present Danny La Rue with the BBC Sportsman of the Year Award. The 76 year-old Earl told a story of how a polo pony he was riding [in India in 1922] had a polo ball lodged up its anus. It went down very well.

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Tuesday December 14, 1976

King George VI is celebrating quietly somewhere today - his 81st birthday. Prince Albert died 115 years ago, and Coun Norman Anthony Gadsby was born this day in 1935 ...

Write letters tonight to Helen Malin in Gloucester and send cards to Glenn and Dave G telling them of Peter's change of heart. I knew all along that Mr Mather wouldn't let the summer of next year go by without seeing Ibiza and all those women.

Tony rings and we arrange to go to the Hare with Stuart at 8.15. I then contact Martyn and he says he's going with his girlfriend Carla to a new wine bar in Ilkley so I don't think we'll see him tonight. Later: Tony comes at 8.15 and we go to a Christmas-decorated Hare & Hounds and meet Stuart Walker, Esq, and Susan and Peter. After a couple of drinks we join Martyn and his lady at Ilkley and we polish off two bottles of wine before going on to the Rose & Crown. Quite a liquid evening. All back to W.H. Smith's for a coffee and Tony discovers he has a flat tyre which takes us through until 12.15am. Home in a fog and we discuss Thursday night. Hit the sack at 1.05am.

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Monday December 13, 1976

Nothing much to say today. I am always lazy at Yuletide. Couldn't even be bothered to contemplate the TV tonight and for a large part of the evening I sat glaring at my in-growing toe-nail. Why? Well, if you had paid £18 for a pair of shoes would you expect to get a deformed foot in return? I certainly didn't expect it, pal.

Lynne came up at 8.30 and we had a drink at the Commercial before she pissed off to Roundhay. We discussed the Yuletide arrangements. Seeing her on Christmas Eve and then there's a gap until Dec 28 when we go to John & Maria's. I've got Wednesday to spend with her and after that it's New Year's Eve. Why do we bother going out at all? I sometimes wonder. Of course I'd loathe it even more if she lived on my doorstep so what am I moaning about? I'm just a misery guts when it all boils down to it. Bed at 11.30pm. Goodnight.

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