Tuesday May 10, 1977

A normal May day for a change. Too hot even. Well, not perhaps too hot but we aren't really used to it as yet.

Headlines: the newspapers are convinced that the Prince of Wales is going to marry Princess Marie-Astrid of Luxembourg. She's at Cambridge at the moment studying English, and photographs of her walking through the city carrying a pile of text books are splattered in every national newspaper. Even the wary old Times has afforded Her Royal Highness (or is she a Serene Highness?) a slot on page seven or eight. The furore has been going on for two or three days. The princess is a fifth cousin of the Queen. It is, of course, no obstacle.

Peter: petrol problem

At about 7 I had a phone call from Chris saying he isn't going to Stockport and concluded by saying Pete M will be ringing shortly to 'tell you why he can't go either'. Sure enough Pete phoned and I was utterly dumbfounded and astonished. He accused me of only ever ringing him when I need a lift and concluded by saying I'm a 'cheeky sod'. He also made reference to our previous visit to Stockport and said he was appalled at Martyn and I for not contributing to the petrol. Christ it was five months ago and it's taken all this time to get it off his chest! I would have thought that friendship was worth a bit more than the price of a gallon of petrol but he obviously differs on this point.

Met CB at the Crown at Yeadon at 8.30. June is in with her fiance, and so is Phil Knowles, but he goes when he sees Christine. Dave, Dave, Phil and Phil are also supping, along with Maura and Marian, &c. Got quite pissed and after depositing Christine on the last bus I walked home through Yeadon and over Nunroyd park. In by 12. Mum and Dad get on my bloody nerves.

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Monday May 9, 1977

Horrible, hectic, hell of a day. Just Sarah, Eileen and I and it's jut too busy. To make matters worse Dave Bruce insulted me by saying I look three months pregnant. But I'm a man. It's obviously the combination of gallons of lager and jeans with a 30 inch waist.

Carole phoned at 3-ish. Arrange to go out on Thursday. She tells me she phoned Denise this morning and ________. Somehow I don't think outsiders should become involved because no outside aid can be given. They both know how things stand.

I phoned Dave G and said I'd be over on Saturday - just who with I don't know. Rang Chris tonight and he says he'll phone back tomorrow. I don't think he or Pete M want to go, and Martyn has a golf tournament and so I may be going freelance. Sod them anyway.

Tony rang and says he got really pissed yesterday afternoon. ________________.It's like a bloody Greek tragedy. On the subject of Greek tragedies - what about the return of Carole?  Every day I ask the same questions, none of which can be answered satisfactorily. Am I to go to my grave loveless and alone just because I cannot forget a horrible incident a year ago which I was more or less responsible for? I'm not interested in any other female and she seems to feel the same way about me. Should I forget May 1976 forever? Will it be on my conscience until the end of time?

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Sunday May 8, 1977

4th after Easter. Cloud and drizzle. Breakfast on kippers. Tony rang ______. I suggested going out and he laughed and said he was just thinking about getting pissed. We went to the Shoulder of Mutton for an hour and discussed all the things we've discussed thousands of time before.

Tony

Home for 2.15 and had lunch with all the family - even John, Maria, JPH and Auntie Mabel.

Work from 5pm until midnight. Ursula was her usual cheerful self. Home in a taxi with a comedian of a driver who spent six years in the army in Aden and Edinburgh. He tells of hair curling tales of lesbians in the jungle, suicide squads, severed limbs - the lot. The conversation was heavy with four letter words beginning with F and ending in K, with a U and a C in the middle. Salt of the earth, some of these taxi drivers.




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Saturday May 7, 1977

Eggs and bacon with Mum, Dad, Sue, and Auntie Mabel. I was up early at 8.30 sitting on the couch with the radio until I heard movement in the kitchen.Invariably the first poor soul to be heard messing around in the kitchen is bombarded with orders for tea and other light refreshment. Dad was the victim this morning.

with JPH

To Morrison's in the rain at 12 o'clock or so. Lynn and I took Auntie Mabel round 'Life Style' - the new wing of the supermarket which sells everything from Royal Doulton china to contraceptives.

Back to Silverdale Drive and play with the baby until 3. Maria is thinner. She's down to 9st now. JPH is passed round the assembled multitude until he's insensible, and after we've made him sick we evacuate the area and return to Pinetops for the R.L. Cup final.

Sue, Pete, Mum, Dad and Auntie Mabel go to the Birch Tree at Wilsill for a meal in the evening and Lynn and I are just settling down to have tea when we have a surprise visit indeed. It's Messers Ratcliffe and Mather. ______. We sat talking until Tony and Martyn arrived at 9 o'clock. To the Hare and Hounds at Heaton and the Bod again. Women piled eight feet deep. Sue from WH Smiths and her mate fromthe travel department are in the Bod. Sue is a terrible flirt. _____. Tony especially was on top form. Home at the usual hour. Tony borrowed my razor.

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Friday May 6, 1977

No Carole tonight. Went into the Hare and Hounds at 8.30 with Tony.  CB comes in. She gave me a new copy of the 'Monty Python' book we bought in Sheffield two years ago. She tipped her cider all over the juke box in the hilarity of the occasion. Judith was very quiet.

CB: positively violent

With Sue, Peter N,  Martyn, Tony, CB to the Bod in Bradford. It's packed at Christine becomes positively violent about the place. Tony and Martyn met the two young ladies from Halifax and chat with them, but after a solitary drink Sue, Pete, CB and I return to the Hare & Hounds. The barman says, at 10.50, that I'm too late to buy a drink and the infernal manager seeks permission from Nigel Smith and his mafia-like cronies before I'm served.

I'm bloody speechless and vow never to go into the pub again. CB laughs and says she has also made such a vow before but she has always returned in the end and says it's obvious that next weekend I'll be back too. Not if I have my way I won't. Besides, staying away from the Hare will fit in with my plans, which are a) I'm tiring of J_____and it makes my presence in the Hare uncomfortable, and b). if Carole is back on the scene I don't want to go in the Hare with her, and c). it's a fucking tip anyway. Can't say tonight was enjoyable at all really.

Back home at 11.15. Auntie Mabel, Mum and Dad come back at 2am from cousin Dorothy's (White Horse). I sleep in the lounge because Auntie M claims my bedroom. She is staying until Sunday.

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Thursday May 5, 1977

Out with Tony and Carole to the Hare & Hounds at Heaton, Bradford at 8.30. Carole looked divine. All heads turned when she entered the pub and people couldn't help staring at her. I think Tony felt like he was being neglected somewhat and so at 9 he phoned Sue (from WH Smith's) to see if she fancied a night out at Oakwood Hall. He arranged to pick her up at 10.40.

With Carole: she looked divine

I soon began to feel intoxicated. I don't know whether it was the drink or Carole, but I certainly felt something. Her eyes. Her face. Quite incredible they are. Collected Sue and went off to Oakwood. The girls took an immediate dislike to one another. Bitchiness in the extreme, I'm afraid to say. It must have been Sue who started it because Carole couldn't be bitchy if she tried. She is far too naive and sweet.

Saw Peter N with a couple of his friends at the disco and he was pleased to see Carole and I together. We danced and had a couple of drinks. I even had orange juice. We both forgot we'd ever been apart in the first place and we laughed and joked just like old times. For God's sake, I hope I'm doing the right thing meeting Carole like this. Am I leading her on at all? It didn't feel wrong and nothing but sheer enjoyment came from it. It wouldn't go down well at home if we got back together, but the attitude of my parents at the moment is abominable anyway and to be quite honest I'm not taking any more Dictatorship. One would think I was twelve years old.

Tony seemed to think Sue wasn't on form. Oh, by the way. Linda rang and finished with him tonight.

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Wednesday May 4, 1977

A nice morning for a change. The birds actually lowered themselves to give us a tune and the rain managed to hold off until I was safely encased in the Jim-mobile. No Sarah today. Auntie Delia informed me that the poor girl is suffering from dizzy spells and such like. I like Auntie tremendously and we are still promising one another tea or an evening meal but she is always bogged down with (flower arranging) classes.

YP was dead. Worked through lunch and went home at my usual time - 4.30. Horrible meal this evening. Mother is still behaving positively rude and childishly, which encourages me to a certain extent. Her attitude won't get her anywhere at all.

Queen: speech to the Lords & Commons

On the 6 o'clock news saw the Queen and the Royal Family in Westminster Hall receiving the thanks of the Lords and Commons for 25 dedicated years, &c. HM made a controversial statement about devolution saying she had been crowned Queen of England, Scotland and Northern Ireland and intended remaining so. The Scottish Nationalists are aggravated by it but I think it was a tremendous thing for her to say it. At least one person in the land wants to keep the United Kingdom intact.

To be quite honest I'm getting cheesed off with the complete lack of patriotism at the moment. Dear mother is a leading advocate and her attitude about a Silver Jubilee party astounds me. How she had the bloody nerve to pay me £2.50 for her share in Robert Lacey's 'Majesty' God only knows! About as patriotic as Willie Hamilton's left buttock she is. I could become quite violent on the subject if I tried hard enough. I expect that all the flag waving and cheering will take place on June 7 and then everyone will forget about it. It's about time the Queen used her influence to rally nationalism.

Out with Judith to the Hare and back to her place until almost 3am.Discuss purchasing the Sun. How much would it take to make a box for it?

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Tuesday May 3, 1977

Carole: unfortunate maiden

A horrible day. Last night when I set out on my historic venture I joked with Mama on the subject of with whom I was spending the evening. She wanted to know the identity of the unfortunate maiden and joked about following me down the lane. Nothing nasty was said and all seemed quite normal until tea time today. I am much afraid to say she launched an extraordinary attack on the 'mysterious young lady'. "Well, Michael, if you can't tell me who you were with last night all I can say is she must be a right little tart". I was angered and horrified and this gave me the push to clam up altogether and I said that under no circumstances would I ever tell her. Mama carried on in her usual way - or perhaps I should say the way she behaves when she's infuriated. Later tonight she told me that the Silver Jubilee party is cancelled. A statement made in anger and I fully intend to ignore it. (I'm 'intending to ignore' quite a few things today, aren't I?)

Silver Jubilees only happen once or twice in a lifetime and no one is going to prevent me celebrating in the appropriate way.

Watched TV and thought about last night. Am I as mixed up and confused as Carole? Do I require a sharp blow on the head? Somehow I think so. Do you know that nothing would have stood in the way of us getting back together if it hadn't have been for the foolish, tragic thing she did?

Since yesterday I haven't worried about where £80 of my holiday money is coming from or what I'm going to be wearing on my feet this time next week. What can it be? No doubt you've heard it all before - especially in these miserable, confused pages. The hateful way opinions can change in a matter of a few weeks I am beginning to shame over. Just twelve or thirteen weeks ago I was closeted at Thornton-le-Dale with Miss Mather abusing the very name of the girl on whom my mind now is permanently affixed.

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Monday May 2, 1977

Bank Holiday in Scotland. Had a telephone call this morning from Miss Carole Phillips who demanded, nay commanded me to take her out for a drink this evening. She said that a year ago - to the very day - I had promised to go out with her whenever she wished. Just a social, friendly ale or two - not 'going out' in the context which you may be thinking. She was at Maria's and at first I said I'd go down to tea and then ten minutes later I phoned back to say I'd be at Ridgeway to collect her at 7.30. I arrived a few minutes late with a bag of vegetables for John's pets with very mixed feelings about this whole escapade. Blimey, isn't she supposed to be engaged to Peter Fogarty? She looks very attractive and ravishing. I am reminded about what Jimmy (Macdonald) and I were discussing on New Year's Day after my thirtieth gin and tonic.

Shoulder of Mutton

We had no idea where to go. I suggested Otley, but we finally decided on the Shoulder of Mutton on Hollins Hill. It is out of the way and we are free from being recognised. We caught a bus and laughed and chatted as though no break had ever taken place. In the pub I put to her the question of her so-called engagement because she was wearing no ring, and I was immediately answered. They bought a ring on Saturday and by the following afternoon Fogarty had decided he had no desire to settle down and called off the whole charade. She told me it had been Fogarty who had pushed for it and wanted to be serious. She had done nothing but cry for three or four days and it had been Maria who had suggested ringing me, as a last resort.

You must be aware that Carole and I are in no way forming an alliance of the nature of which I terminated one year ago - it was just a very friendly 'good deed'. We discussed old times and became quite rowdy. I told her: "Carole, you certainly know how to pick 'em." Then paused because I realised she'd picked me. I felt slightly sick after only three drinks and we walked outside and up Hollins Hill and back to the Macdonald residence. When people had told me how much Carole had matured and 'grown up' I didn't ever answer. I wanted to reach a decision myself. I do not think she has matured one bit since last May. Very sweet, but still the dotty, mixed up kid. I said I was sorry for what I had done to her and she said she didn't hold me responsible. She did say I had ignored her on many occasions, whilst I have always accused her of ignoring me. Funny, isn't it? Went back for a coffee and we parted at 11.30. Left very friendly and said 'let's do it again, sometime?' She said she wanted to be my friend and said it was about time she pulled herself together. It was so nice just to talk to her.
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Sunday May 1, 1977

3rd after Easter. Wet day. Not going to say much because it was such a normal, uninteresting day. The Silver Jubilee is looming. The poor Queen is going to be exhausted by autumn. Bless the Old Girl.

Naomi: dragged me in

Saw part of the 'Edward VII' series on tv and then Mama gave me a lift into Guiseley in torrential rain. I was stood at the bus stop for ten minutes when Naomi drove up, threw open her car door and dragged me inside. Very hospitable of her. Miss K. Moorhouse was a fellow passenger. They were on their way to Denise's for dinner. Eventually got a bus at Rawdon at 5.20pm. Work was up to it's usual mundaneness. Can anything be 'up to it's usual mundaneness?' or have I invented the word?

Taxi home at midnight. My driver was a silent one this time. Not a reptile expert or connoisseur of Rococo architecture as they usually are. The journey home was one of inward thought and general reflection. Poured with rain all the way.

Ate boiled eggs and sat looking at one of the lower class Sunday papers. Queen Victoria awaited my attention in my boudoir but my eyes ached and I had no intention of taking her up tonight.

Isn't it remarkable how some days I fill a page with minute, incredibly tiny handwriting and on other more lazy occasions I can scribe away like something not dissimilar to a moron?

King George V had silly handwriting, you know.

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Saturday April 30, 1977

Mama and the whole household are spring cleaning this morning and so I dress and escape with a pile of library books and Miss Rushworth's umbrella in the direction of Guiseley. Called at Bedside Manor and handed over the stolen umbrella to Bill Rushworth. He's a real weirdo. Grumpy and positively frightening. However, Mrs R. is extremely pleasant. Judith climbed out of bed and joined me in her lounge. She looked ghastly without the help of cosmetics and complained of a headache. I left after 10 minutes.

Lynn

To the library and got a further volume of Queen Victoria's correspondence with her eldest daughter (1871-78).

Had a record session all afternoon.Only Susan & Peter N are at home for me to annoy. Tony rang to say he wouldn't be at the Hare tonight because Linda doesn't like the idea. _________. I quite fancy Linda myself.

Martyn and Ruth, who are also a doomed relationship, are joining me at the Hare. Went down with Sue and Pete at 8.30. CB left shortly afterwards with a familiar, unnamed face, and Miss Dibb and fiance came in too. Chatted with Judith and Dave (working in the bar) and got along famously. The new manager seems like a decent enough bloke and when Lynn and Dave came in L approached him and got a bar job for Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday evening. Lynn actually behind the bar! David Andrew is far from happy with the idea. How snobby and petty can you get? The whole situation would be different if Mum and Dad had bought a free house pub. Oh yes, you're allowed to work in a bar if you own the bloody place, but being a common serving wench is a different bloody matter.

Peter and I went to the Chinese takeaway on Otley Rd and got some for Sue too. Played my BBC 50th anniversary LP which Peter hasn't heard before. Bed at 2am. Dad came in ten minutes later stoned out of his mind. They'd been to Flashman's with Charlie and Betty Davidson.

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