Friday May 27, 1977

Beautiful, hot, marvellous day. By 10.30 I'm in the garden covered head to foot in sun-tan oil, reminiscent of a Roman gladiator, and it's in this idyllic pose that I remained throughout the day, breaking off only for lunch.

My Jubilee party is secure. How did I manage it? Well, Mrs Eccles, our new neighbour, was in the garden talking about the noise the workmen are making in her house and expressed her hope that we are not put out by the banging. 'Oh no', said I, 'we're always making loud noises too, you know.Parties and things'. Before I could sit and savour my craftiness here I'd invited her and her hubby to our party on June 4, and Mama, lurking behind a clump of dying tulips, just couldn't say anything. So, it's all on.

How does one manage to get a job in Spain? Do I write to the Spanish Ambassador to the Court of St James? I am very much aware that I asked this question on Wednesday but I've still done bugger all about finding out.

Taking a bath this evening was painful. I realise I've over done it with the sunbathing. In fact I'm not so much like a gladiator now, more like a heap of tomatoes, or pot of lobsters.

Tony rings to say Carole is joining us tonight. I readily approve. Susan joins us without Peter N. He's in Durham at a party with some friends. Independent Pete, eh?

Sue

To the Bod with Sue, Carole, Martyn and Tony. T picks up a tart called Maureen who resembles Shirley Bassey. A bit of a laugh. Very strange to be with Susan and not Peter too. She looks a bit lost as well.

I begin to feel ill a shake with cold. Carole offers no sympathy. She just smiles and says 'serves you right'. Bless her heart. Home at 11.30. To bed with a hot water bottle and an extra blanket. Feel delirious and realise I have bloody sun stroke. Lynn shows some concern and she sits on the edge of my bed offering assurance. By 12 I vomit and then go to sleep. Never felt anything like it before and can't quite understand how it takes 22 years to come to grief in the sun.

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Thursday May 26, 1977

Just three hours at the YP - 9 to 12. A hot day again. Ate fish and chips in Guiseley and then went home for a large lunch. My God I'm going to become a fat swine. Carole rang me at 10.30 just to make sure I haven't forgotten. I assure her I could never forget. She now says she's wearing a red outfit tonight. Isn't she incredibly sweet discussing her wardrobe with me - My God, it's like the 'olden days'.

Tell Mum and Dad over lunch my Spanish idea and they say just what they said when I put forward the idea last summer: 'Now is the time to go. You are only young once', &c. I must say that in this field dear Mama and Papa have always encouraged me and I cannot help thinking that I'd be doing them a favour by clearing off. Not going to mention anything to Carole because it may prove alarming - if you know what I mean.,

Tony rings at 7.30 and suggests Carole and I go down to Ilkley for a drink but I want to be alone with her. Then John rings and says he and Maria want to join us and I say I'll meet them at the White Cross at 9 o'clock. Meet Carole at 8 and she shows me a jagged scar on her face which she supposedly accidentally inflicted upon herself 'picking up a broken cup in the kitchen'. It is obvious the some person or persons unknown did this to her. I do not question her about it but it is quite hideous.

Things don't go as well as last week, and last week didn't go quite as well as the week before and it is obvious that some deterioration in our newly rekindled friendship is taking place. We squabble and she becomes aggressive and childish about my smoking.

John and Maria came at 9 and after a drink we move on to Bingley (John and M in the car and me and C on the bus) and then from the pub the four of us go to Oakwood Hall. For some reason I become quite pissed and all memories of what exactly took place are vague. Remember seeing Keith Brown, Sandy Lawson and of course the intrepid Christine Braithwaite. Carole and I cheer up somewhat and vow not to argue again. It would perhaps help if we were left alone in future. Back at 2am in a taxi laughing a good deal.

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Wednesday May 25, 1977

Hot day. Home by 5 and fully expect to stay in tonight but it is not to be. Martyn rings after tea and suggests going for a drink in Guiseley. Bloody Hell! Why not? Top marks for this brilliant idea, Martyn! He comes up and 8 and we walk over the fields to the Commercial (dear Beckindale in the classic tv series 'Emmerdale Farm'). We begin with lager and go on to pernod and by 10pm we're quite pissed.

Martyn: brilliant idea

You won't believe this but we decided over our second pernod to go work in Ibiza or Majorca after our holiday. OK, I've said it all before but I've never had anyone to team up with before and Martyn is just as much pissed off with the United Kingdom of Gt Britain as I am. Tony too and Dave of Stockport wouldn't mind leaving this miserable land to find a life of fortune in the Ballearic Islands. How do we go about getting there though? Do we write to the Spanish Embassy or the British Tourist Board? Or what?

We walked home over the fields again but now heavily laden with cow excreta and a profusion of nettles seem to have mysteriously appeared. Up to our buttocks in shit. Home by 10.30 and I entertain Martyn to coffee and toast thickly spread with mustard. He waits to be collected by Karen (Cole) who makes an appearance near midnight. In the cold light of tomorrow morning I will probably think the whole idea of drifting off to Spain is bloody idiotic, but now - here at this minute - all I can think is 'Why not?'


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Tuesday May 24, 1977

Phoned Carole this morning to arrange Thursday night's meeting. Yes, it's Oakwood Hall, folks. She has not much to say other than she plans to wear the white creation with rope and other ornaments hanging from it - the one she wore one evening last June - when I asked her why she couldn't afford a proper belt. She always calls me 'Pet'.

Bananas: grow upwards

At 7pm I go to John & Maria's with a bunch of photographs that arrived this morning. Some excellent ones of JPH and my birthday 'freak out'. The baby won't sleep and the arrival of George (Waite), Jane, Molly and Jim doesn't help really. Molly walks in and goes off on a tangent about her recent Majorca holiday: "The cathedral at Palma was built in 1167 and it took four hundred years to complete and do you know bananas grow upwards? Because I always thought they hung downwards, like that, and Oh the food was first class, and we had lobster one night for an extra £2.67 which was really good compared with other hotels around because a nice girl we met from Manchester couldn't touch the meals served in her hotel, mind you she went with Thomson's who are usually very good and Oh the Caves of Drach were marvellous but the coach there was a bit on the long side and we didn't really like the wine bodegas like you would it's Jim's stomach you know....."  Just a sample of the great Molly for you. Jim gives me a lift home at 9.30.

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Monday May 23, 1977

Dull, overcast day. The YP wasn't in any way exciting and so I won't bother you with any of the miserable details.

At tea time I see Mum and Dad for the first time since Saturday morning. She went to Molly & Jim's last night to meet Hugh. They are full of tales of JPH and go into raptures about his overnight stay at Pine Tops on Saturday night.

Just watch soddin' TV in the evening. Feature film 'One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich' based on the book by Solzenhitsyn - and not a very pleasant day for Ivan either. All it was really was some poor buggers digging holes in sub zero temperatures and eating fish heads and rabbit entrails.

The Prince of Wales was invested with the Order of the Thistle in Edinburgh this morning and I suspect that the Queen and the Queen Mother won't be feeling all that happy because BOTH their detectives, Sir Edward Perkins, KCVO and Chief Supt Sumner, have dropped dead on the Scottish visit over the weekend. A bit too much of a coincidence I fear.

Lynn is enjoying things at the Hare & Hounds, but I'm determined to avoid the place. It's been three weeks now and I haven't missed it, or any of it's inmates. A complete change was what I needed and I am enjoying it thoroughly.

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Sunday May 22, 1977

Sunday after Ascension. A pity about last night because I liked the girls. But half a bottle of Scotch inside Tony finished off the relationship with a certain sordid flourish. It's unlike Tony because he isn't usually rude like that. he made endless apoligies about it afterwards pacing up and down the flat with his hair standing on end saying: "silly, silly boy".

I sat in a chair by the open window watching the sunrise but fell into bed wearing socks and shirt at about 5am waking seven hours later.

A brilliant, hot, sunny day. After a bit of cleaning round Tony and I got to the Rose and Crown for one final Sunday lunch drink. Then it was back to a deserted Pine Tops for coffee, a bath and slices of cheese on toast. There was no sign of any of the family when I left for the YP at 4.45pm.

Tony: pacing around with hair standing on end

Poor Tony _______.When he drove me home from Ilkley this afternoon I just sat and laughed at him. We laughed about Carole playing hard to get. Who would have believed any of it?

Nothing of interest at the YP. Telephoned Mama who says she spent the day at John & Maria's. Left at 11 with my eyes feeling like lead.

The taxi driver seemed to have an interest in the English language, particularly slang, and demonstrated his interest by the use of several words of a very coarse nature in some of his sentences. He was also a keen follower of the pop scene taking a particular interest in the charming songs performed by the Stylistics.

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Saturday May 21, 1977

Wake up to a bright, sunny day at 12.15. Breakfast consists of a cup of coffee and becomes a very sombre affair when I open two letters. One from Hough (dentist) saying I owe him £3.50 for dental treatment I had in March, and the other from Barclaycard playing Hell at the way I've spent £243.70 when my credit limit is £200. Sod the lot of them.

Naomi gives me a lift to the Hare and Hounds bus stop and by 1.30 I'm in the off licence in Ilkley buying a few bottles for the match. Dumped the bottles in the shop (Smiths) and went to the Rose & Crown (with Tony) where we were joined by Linda and Ruth. All friendly enough but _____.

Just Tony and I back at the flat watching the FA Cup Final with three or four drinks. Manchester United beat Liverpool 2-1. At half time we spoke to Stuart W in Paris, and then again when Manchester scored first, and at the final result. Tony was ecstatic.

To Harry Ramsden's for tea and then up to Pine Tops where JPH is staying the night. Hugh Macdonald is home from Canada for a few days and so John and Maria are celebrating with the Macdonalds at Wath tonight.

Ruth.

Later: Tony, Martyn and I go to the Rose & Crown, Craven Heifer (Addingham) and the Barge at Skipton. We had quite a laugh. Back a bit pissed to the flat where we were joined by Linda and Ruth. Linda and Martyn are very quiet and I ended up with Ruth on the floor. Martyn said later that we seemed to be having a right "go". I blame the Carlsberg lager and Ruth's cheap Spanish white wine.

I have never had such a pleasurable experience with a married woman before. Something happened and an angry Tony ejected Linda from the flat telling her to ______. Both girls left, but I remember nothing about it.

In hysterics at 'Help' by Peter Sellers. It's the B-side of his version of 'Hard Day's Night'.

Martyn said nothing all night.

Friday May 20, 1977

Get up late, and my arrival at the YP is quite a bit later than normal ....get home late too because the bleedin' traffic takes a turn (or quite a few turns) for the worst.

Martyn, Tony and I go to the Connection in Shipley. Quite a nice place and the money collector/barmaid/cleaner/cook from Wikis is behind the bar. We exchange reminiscences. Martyn chats up the buxom wench serving pizza but gets nowhere. Then on to the Bod to to meet Michelle and Maxine. Michelle is so sexy --  Ooolahlah!!

Chris and Peter.

Peter M and Chris arrive. Pete demands I accept his apology for the bullshit and crap he threw at me on May 10. I refuse. Martyn is treated abominably too. Michelle says Pete is a 'snob' and Chris is something else.

Back to Michelle's for coffee. We embrace and KISS in the car and thoroughly enjoy it. Whatever became of her lewd boyfriend? Home at 12.30am. Arrange to go watch the Cup Final at Tony's tomorrow. Sit drinking coffee in bed and grinding my teeth at the bitchiness of _______. BASTARDS!

Thursday May 19, 1977

Ascension Day. No diarrhoea. John, Maria and a heavy JPH came this evening and they took me down to the White Cross at 8.15 where I met Carole 15 minutes later than I said I would.

Barbara.

Scrounged a lift from Mick Blades to Ilkley and ended up with Tony and Martyn in the Rose & Crown. John and Maria joined us at 9.30. To the Star too where Barbara (Woodhead) pulled my leg about me bringing my baby brother out with me.

Carole and I were apart all night and I blame the slimline, boiler suited Maria because once they get together the consequences are drastic.

To Oakwood Hall at 11pm but only Carole and I went in. For some reason things don't get off as well as last week. We blame it on our late arrival at Oakwood. CB and Maura are in - pissed - and C tries to muck it up with Carole and I. We both smoked and behaved like old lovers. She later played 'hard to get'. On the way up in the car from the Connection I assumed that she was going to Tony's on Saturday but she blew me out by saying she was going to a barbecue tomorrow and then to Leeds on Saturday and that my next appointment would be next Thursday. My God. Her lips are delicious! She bloody knows it too.

Home by taxi at 2am. She demanded to know why I had suddenly quietened. Why? I was the one who wanted the free life and now I'm not satisfied. Sod it.

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Wednesday May 18, 1977

A good Spring day combined, sadly, with diarrhoea. A sad sentence to have to compile, but very true.

Marita brought me as far as Rawdon in her mini and when I told her I'd been out with Carole on Thursday she went into raptures saying how perfect we are together and that I haven't looked as happy since May '76.

Tonight Tony and I went out and said that I - for twelve months - had given the appearance of being thoroughly bored by the company and that my face always held a look of far-off expectation. Is all this a big publicity campaign paid for by Carole?

Tony came up at 8.30 and we bumped into Pete Lazenby on Park Road and out of courtesy we accompanied him to Guiseley Working Mens' Club. Nice, cheap lager, but oh the people. Honestly, I'm no snob and no one likes good honest people more than me but the sight of the people therein is ghastly. As though they're hating every minute - just waiting for the sirens to go off summoning then back to the factory floor.

Stone Trough

On to the Stone Trough until 10.30. A completely dead place. Even the juke plays at a whisper. Later Tony comes back home for a cup of tea and egg mayonnaise sandwiches. We discus phases one, two and three and I insist that they were started by the Heath government in 1973.

Janet Land is visiting Lynn.



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Tuesday May 17, 1977

Feel grotty all day. Stomach ache mainly, and anorexia. All the same I forced down two sandwiches and a pea and ham soup - but could easily have done without. You don't want me collapsing at work do you?

Kathleen suggested that I ought to go home early, but like King Charles I (you know, him with the ginger hair and no head) I decided to be a martyr instead.

Carole: grandmother's accident

Carole rang at 3 and we decided to go out again on Thursday, again to Oakwood (Hall). I asked whether her mother had been knocked down, the victim of a road traffic accident and she laughed saying: "Oh no...
it 's my grandmother". It seems that the old lady fell in the path of a van belonging to the Gas Board and passed a night in Otley Hospital emerging with three stitches. Carole's attitude is quite frightening and she insists that the sight of ones beloved Grandmama disappearing beneath the wheels of a bright yellow NEGAS van isn't half as horrific as it sounds. Having no living grandmother myself I can never experience such a phenomenon.

Spent an evening in front of the television. The headlines on the 9 o'clock news was the royal visit to Scotland. It's the first of the 'Jubilee tours'. The BBC must have taken leave of their senses. A royal item to be the first item on the news? Surely the first such thing to occur since the abdication Edward VIII.

Took a bath after the royal spectacular and then returned to the drawing room to find Mama reclining on a sofa sipping delicately at her glass of Guinness. No other exercise whatsoever is allowed - Dr Jacques's orders.

Sit with a mug of cocoa and decide I feel much better. My bowels have improved tremendously since tea time. I cannot help thinking that Uncle Bert might have brought a virus with him from darkest Nottingham. Dearest Uncle will get his head kicked in if I find this to be so.

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