Monday February 14, 1977

Valentine's Day again. Blimey, it comes round quickly doesn't it? Why it only seems like yesterday since that special delivery van from the Post Office brought 48 million Valentine's Day greeting cards to my door along with bunches of floral tributes and various other sundry gifts. And what did I get this year? Bugger all. Yes, not a sausage. Who would have ever thought that the day would dawn when Michael Rhodes could climb out of bed on Valentine's morn to discover no mail whatsoever? I wouldn't have. Nevertheless, life must go on.

Emerge from my slimy den at 1 o'clock. Pathetic isn't it? The BBC doesn't mention anything about the plight of the foreign secretary until 2pm. He's in a critical condition and it doesn't look as though he's going to get his money's worth from any Valentine's greetings he's despatched.

Maria and baby come up at 2.30 and stay to tea. John coming here straight from work with Mama. The baby is really incredible these days, smiling at everyone. It's hilarious to hear him laugh when he's 'roughed up' a bit. Dad spends all afternoon just bouncing him about.

Sir Robin Day.

Tony rings. See Robin Day on 'Panorama' make mincemeat of Joe Haines, former press secretary to Sir Harold Wilson. It's obvious to one and all that Mr Haines is a bloody liar. Dad goes hairless about these so-called political animals who cash in by writing books when the ink on their resignation letters is still wet. Can't blame them really, though some of the things they come out with is quite preposterous. Watch 'Up Pompei' with Frankie Howerd. Saw the film with Dave Lawson five or six years ago. That reminds me, if I don't write to David this week I'll be unfit to call myself a friend of his because I've made no contact at all since the beginning of January. Bloody disgraceful, eh? Bed at 11.30.

-==-

Sunday February 13, 1977

Sexagesima. Good Old Sexagesima again. By Jingo it comes round quickly. Got up at midday and devoured a large bowl of porridge and a couple of slices of toast. Later, Sue, Pete and I went down to the Commercial. A couple of pints of stella artois later and we're much nicer people. Susan drank gin & orange.

Back at Pine Tops Lynn has made cakes and buns and lunch of pork chops with 'all the trimmings'.

Down to the office on the 5.10 33 bus and have something of a boring night. John Cameron gave me a form to fill in and I joined the YP-EP Mission Club of which no real details are known as yet. Will report on it later. Send letters to Tony & Martyn with a list of rules for new members of the Silver Jubilee Lechery Society each with a photo of H.M. The Queen.

Harold Wilson and Lady Falkender.

News items: This Sir Harold Wilson/Lady Falkender thing is brewing away nicely. We all now know why Uncle Harold packed in the premiership when he did, and the Sunday papers have stories of the Queen's reaction to Marcia Williams's peerage (Mrs W is now of course the notorious 'Lady Forkbender').

Henry Heaton comes in saying PA are announcing that Antony Crosland, the Foreign Secretary, has been taken seriously ill whilst out walking near his home. They seem to think that Merlyn Rees, the current Home Secretary, will take over. Why not offer the post to Lady Falkender?

Home in a dense fog at 1.30, really thick and nasty. Appropriately I have a can of pea soup. Bed at 2.30. Read until 3.

-==-

Saturday February 12, 1977

Bugger about in bed until about noon. Didn't bugger about literally of course.

Did we arrange to meet the Yeadon ladies at the Clothiers in Yeadon at 7.30? Blimey, we'll all be pissed by half eight. By 'ladies' I mean an assortment of various types of female whom we procured last night at the disco. A particularly nice one, who looks like Angela Rippon, says she remembers me from Benton Park.

Listen to the American top thirty records on Radio One and then had sausages and chips with Lynn, Dave and Susan. Fruit salad and gallons of cream followed. Ugh - felt sick afterwards.

Walked with Lynn and Dave to John & Maria's. Christine Dibb had rushed down to Maria's the other day with the news of my break with Lynne. ______.

Clothiers: horrible, low-class pub

Martyn and Tony arrive at about 8.30 and Tony drives us to the Clothiers. A horrible, low-class tavern. A group of men were discussing the Silver Jubilee and this is a morsel of the conversation.

"How long has t'old King been dead anyway?"

"Oh, about a fortneet".

The two young ladies arrive at about 8.30 and we go straight to the Hare & Hounds with them. Sue & Peter, John & Maria are in. Chris comes in with MM and Marita. I don't really take to these women at all and nearly die when one, Jackie, announces she's coming to Oakwood Hall with us. At 10 Tony takes them to the Liberal Club at Yeadon. We go on to Bingley and then Oakwood Hall, a dead loss tonight. No women of decent bearing at all and  come home after a 'danceless' night. Had a curry from the van outside Oakwood which was ridiculously hot. Have a coffee at home with Tony, Martyn, Sue & Peter and retire by 3-ish.

-==-

Friday February 11, 1977

Yes, it's another day off. Lynn's chatting wakes me at 8.30 and after a coffee with Mum and Susan I'm ready to return to bed. Mum and Dad are going to a hotel in Scarborough tonight - for the weekend. Blimey, here we are in the midst of a great financial upheaval, with the prime minister quaking in his surgical boots, and my parents are off spending cash like no tomorrow. Good luck to them anyway - I don't think they've had a decent break since last summer.

Lynn.

Return to the sanctity of my bedroom world until 11.30 when it fell to me to do the housework. Well, not exactly housework. I went about with the vacuum cleaner and washed the breakfast pots, then switched on the stereo. You may recall that I secured today as a day off for Miss Akroyd's benefit? A model train set and bottle party was planned but further enquiries reveal she cannot have a day off until Saturday. So, I'm lumbered with a lazy, good for nothing day lounging here in the chair at Fort Pine Tops.

Smash hell out of the stereo all afternoon and press Papa's trousers while he's ferrying mother to-and-fro Moon's Mill. No telephone calls, telegrams or naked Swedish film starlets at all - which makes a change.

I'm awaiting the arrival of Sarah & Delia with a new sculpture I've commissioned from her (Sarah). But they don't arrive. Less said about that the better.

Martyn & Chris

Down to the Hare with Tony, Martyn, Sue & Peter. Move on (we three lads that is) to Neville's Wine Bar and then the Craven Heifer (Addingham). Oakwood Hall followed and Oh what a night it was. Some ladies from Yeadon were the highlight of the evening and Mr Mather, Mr Ratcliffe and Mr Hudson were there. Peter was quite moving on the subject of Lynne and the sad fact that 'she'll never see me again'. Drop the ladies off in Albert Square (Yeadon) and then come home with Tony & Martyn. Lynn and Dave are snuggled up in a corner of the settee.







-==-

Thursday February 10, 1977

My first full day without Her Majesty Queen Lynne as my consort and help-meet. In many ways a sad day. The Lynnian era is no more, and with it goes all the security, brilliance and power. The days of convenient car rides to the pub and pleasant weekends at Ty-Onnen have automatically ceased. Once again, I am nothing more than a pleasant, roving peasant.

David Baker

Work is unmentionable. Meet Dave B at the Yorkshire Crown at 12.45 after wading through several feet of water on Wellington Street. Boards outside the office (EP ones) proclaimed 'CHARLES AND DAVINA - PALACE STATEMENT' which is fact a denial of any imminent marital alliance. The Buckingham Palace spokesman says 'it's preposterous to suggest any engagement could take place whilst the Queen is out of the country'. She's in Australia, of course. These palace spokesmen are nothing more than paid liars.

To the dentist for a check up. I have to go back next month for a couple of fillings. Nip to Marita's with a box of chocolates for her birthday, which was a couple of weeks ago, and sit for half an hour or so. She said she'd heard on Monday that I'd finished with Lynne. Coo, didn't that get round quickly?

Down to the Hare with Tony and Martyn at 8.30. John is in with a lad called Steve (Hudson?), & Carole, Naomi and Karen Moorhouse are in. Barry (from Smith's at Ilkley), Judith and Kathryn roll up. John says Chris hates Martyn's guts for 'pinching Karen off him'. Howls of laughter. Karen looked like a deckchair actually - all stripes. Killer. We all go the Il Trovatore in Ilkley. Quite a good night but by 1am we'd developed a 'Darby & Joan' complex. Home with Tony and I sit laughing to myself whilst he and Karen look on as if I'm raving mad.

-=-

Wednesday February 9, 1977

It's all settled anyway. Yes at 10.15 today I telephoned Miss Mather. That was it. Finished. Eight months and three days. Eight months and three days of normality, steadiness and ordinariness. Anything exciting that occurred in this period was purely accidental, I'm sure.

Lynne Mather: girlfriend of eight months and three days...

Sarah is flabbergasted and completely astounded. The misery of the past few days lifts within minutes of my getting it off my chest to Lynne. I only hope she's taken it like she seemed to do. Tony rings and I convey the historic news to him.

I pass a weird sort of day wondering what life is going to do to Michael Rhodes. One thing's for sure I'm having no girlfriends, concubines, tarts, whores or wenches for at least four days - just until a decent period of mourning has passed. Cool and calculating, aren't I?

Home at 5 o'clock with Philip Knowles on the 35 (bus). I don't announce anything at home and will keep quiet about Lynne until Friday or so. No point in creating alarm and despondency before it's necessary.

Take a bath and watch a bit of TV and think about the whole business. Martyn rings and he says he finished with Carla last night. We're having a celebratory pint at the Hare tomorrow. I am looking forward to my new found freedom.

-==-

Tuesday February 8, 1977

A revolting day worrying about what to do about Lynne. I consulted Sarah & Eileen. They said I should not finish with her on the phone under any circumstances. But, waving a white flag, I realise that after last night I am incapable of telling her to her face. Call it cowardice, I don't care.

Miss Judith Rushworth

Met Judith outside the YP at 5pm and saw 'The Pink Panther Strikes Again' at the Odeon. A marvellous film as I fully expected it would be. By 9pm we're back in Guiseley, and have a drink at the Yorkshire Rose. We talk about our relationships with the opposite sex. I am an Aries man. A weak Aries man, but Aries all the same.


Judith was, of course, born one week after me. I felt a good deal better after our chat and am now resolved to end it with Lynne - 'poor Lynne' as Judith kept saying. Awful and irrevocable I know, but tomorrow SO HELP ME GOD.

Have a bath and retire at about 11pm having seen more Silver Jubilee details on the news. Can't wait for the festivities to get under way - this misery is dreadful.

-==-

Monday February 7, 1977

Maria and JPH.

A wet, rotten day. After lunch I went down to the cobblers, yes cobblers. Had an old pair of shoes rendered wearable. Took a pair of trousers to the dry cleaners and books to the library. A really industrious afternoon. Got soaked through. Move on at 3.30 or so to Maria's. She is entertaining the former Margaret Appleyard, Ian's sister, and her baby, Daniel, aged one. When Margaret has left Maria goes on to me about my female problem, which must now be known to everyone except Lynne. I agree I ought to end it before it goes on much longer. I bravely say 'Oh, I'll do it tonight', but know only too well that I'll find some excuse at the last minute.

with JPH.

Lynne comes at 7.30 and sees how miserable I am but foolishly I say nothing. She tries to be so nice, which only makes it worse. To the Ratcliffe residence so that Lynne can collect the holiday brochures - she wants to book her holiday tomorrow. Then have fish and chips and go to the Fox & Hounds where I have half of lager. When she dropped me off at home she asked Mum why I'm such a 'miserable sod'.






-==-

Sunday February 6, 1977

Septuagesima. The Silver Jubilee of Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth the Second. Bells peal and prayers are said for the Sovereign lady in churches throughout the realm. To celebrate the joyous, historic event Mum, Dad, Sue, Peter N and myself  went for lunch to the Birch Inn at Wilsill, near Pateley Bridge. Four or five pints of lager and a sirloin. Peter had a steak too, Mum had fish, Susan a curry and Dad a ploughman's lunch.

Birch Tree Inn, Wilsill

At 2pm we returned homeward and called on John & Maria just in time for JPH's liquid liver lunch. A messy business. He is a beautiful child.

To the YP at 5.30 and have a nightmare of evening. Rang Lynne. She's at Pickering cinema with Karl and Peter. Rang her back at 10pm. She tells me of her weekend cake baking saga and the dog's latest illness, &c. Home feeling miserable.

Saturday February 5, 1977

'I may have the body of a weak and
feeble woman'

Rang Lynne this morning with every intention of 'calling it a day'. By 'It' I of course mean our love life, and by 'love life' I of course mean going down the pub three or four times a week and behaving quite respectably and boring. That famous Rhodes cowardice raised it's famous head, and I was sat on Mama's bed dialling. I just couldn't do it and we ended up discussing the weather and rising sugar prices. Oh, why am I such a feeble man? Indeed 'I may have the body of a weak and feeble woman' applies just as much to me as it did to the Empress Josephine*** or whoever coined the phrase in the first place. I am always in some kind of shitting mess, aren't I, dear, patient readers? If you are reading this please deposit this diary in the nearest dustbin because it just isn't worth it at all.

With the lovely Naomi Downing ...

Out to the Hare with Chris and Tony at 8.30. Tony is in a rotten mood._______.We move on to the Vineyard at Ilkley and then Oakwood Hall and he cheers up. Susan Hollins was at Oakwood celebrating her 21st birthday, but no one else. Not even Naomi and Co. I like Miss Downing a good deal. She makes me feel that I'm not the only piss artist in the country. A good girl all the same, and I like to have Maria on about her.


***Elizabeth the First, you idiot.

Friday February 4, 1977

Sorry about all this. It's an accident (referring to scribblings and crossings out at the head of the page). Anyway, to get down to business.: Lynne doesn't arrive until 8 and we don'e get to the Hare until NINE. Have a rotten couple of hours. Feel 'off it' and completely shagged out and Lynne looks like 2lb of wet haddock.

2lb of wet haddock.

 

I try and liven myself up by going to talk to Judith. It's no good - things are going to have to drastically change. Home in a downpour when the pub shuts and Lynne leaves for Thornton-le-Dale. I push Peter's car down the road (I always assumed cars had engines?) Change hurriedly and go with Tony and Martyn to Il Trovatore dropping off Janet Simon at home on the way. See Denise, Carole, Karen Moorhouse, Naomi Downing, &c. Oh and Chris and Pete M. Chris and Pete storm off when C sees Martyn with Miss Moorhouse. What a mix-up. I chat seriously with Carole and tell her she's fabulous and that Lynne and I virtually through. Home pissed.

-==-