Friday September 16, 1977

Mixed with the posh people this evening at Harewood House. Sarah and I went straight to Horsforth from the YP and at 6.30 we went with Mrs Cinzano to Harewood where we met Delia. She is in a temper and informs us that his miserable lordship will not be attending the function due to the death of Maria Callas, a connection which I fail to see. Blimey, I went in to the office on August 17 even though Elvis Presley had passed on.

Countess of Harewood.

For a start we got on the wrong side of the Countess of Harewood. Whilst she was showing Brigadier Hargreaves the music room, Delia and a band of renegades including Sarah and I, raided the dining room and made a start on the wondrous chicken buffet. Lady H entered the room ten minutes after us expecting to be served first and almost fell over us in the doorway. Delia and Brian Halliday had even flopped down on the Chippendale sofa and were joking about Carol J ____________. Lady Harewood gave us dirty looks for the remainder of the evening but we didn't care. We laughed and I dared Delia to approach Her Ladyship and call her 'Marion', who was of course George's first spouse. Lady H is a snobby, ridiculously coiffured Aussie who was previously married to a Schmidt, and posed for Australian TV commercials in the 1940s, I believe. She made a very bad impression altogether and only spoke to the Hargreaves contingent and his feeble Lane Fox of a wife, who looked positively sick.

The food was good and we put away gallons of white wine. Delia and I wandered out in search of the conveniences and we ended up having hysterics over the Epstein statue of Adam - truly grotesque. My God, the things Delia was doing with his penis, and a stone one too, were mind boggling.

We left for a pub at Wetherby at 9.30 as the Harewood butler stood at the entrance of the house yelling for 'Mrs Collis'. The summons from the countess had come too bloody late. "If she'd wanted to speak to me she could have do so hours ago", screeched Delia.

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Thursday September 15, 1977

Good old Lynn and David, eh? I am so relieved that they have stuck it out to the bitter end like this. I cannot wish for a better brother-in-law than David, and I told him so at lunchtime when we went to the Boar's Head, a new pub near the Bond Street development. He was feeling rough after last night and only managed one, solitary pint, but I managed to put away a couple. He could not understand why he felt so nervous approaching Mum and Dad because he knows them so well. I tell him how good and considerate it was of them to give the family prior notice of the engagement. I don't think Mum and Dad would have wanted them just to walk in with a ring.

Dave & Lynn.

I left Dave at about 1.15 and staggered back to the YP. Work was ghastly. I'm not discussing it, anyway. How can I talk about work when my beautiful sister is about to embark on the biggest step down life's pathway? That innocent little child on whom I've showered my brotherly affection for almost 20 years is going to be married, with all the responsibilities appertaining thereto, BEFORE ME! Am I neglecting my duty as an older brother? Should I set a shining example to my younger kin by taking a bride in hand? Is it right and proper for a 22 year-old male, and a healthy one I hope, to be set permanently in the wicked ways of bachelorhood? How long will it be before the whispering begins? You know the sort of thing I'm getting at: "Hey Doris, did you see Michael Rhodes in his pink socks?" And: "Isn't it queer, Doris, how he's always behind the bicycle sheds with his boy scouts?" &c. No doubt about it. If I'm still unattached by my 25th birthday I'll be branded homosexual for sure. Who knows though? The visit of Jacqui a week on Friday may trigger another romance that will outshine the one with the late Miss Mather, or even Carole. We'll see anyway.

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Wednesday September 14, 1977

Lynn and Dave: engaged

One of the most historic days to affect the House of Rhodes. Dad was working 2-10 for the first time since April and when Lynn and Dave came in at 8.30 they seemed very concerned that Papa was absent. When Dad eventually got back at 10 - it happened. Yes, you'll never guess what "it" was. Susan called me from the lounge and said: "David wants a word with you in the kitchen". I had no idea what all this cloak and dagger stuff was about but on entering the kitchen it hit me right in the face. A pale and drawn looking Dave, holding a bottle of Scots Mac, asked: "Can you stay in here for a while because I want a word with your Mum and Dad?" "Oh God" I exclaimed, "you cannot be serious?". I couldn't stop laughing. He was actually asking for Lynn's hand in marriage. It had happened at last. Within minutes Sue and I are back with the happy couple. They are to become engaged on September 28 - the third anniversary of the start of their relationship. We celebrated with a couple of bottles of wine, gallons of lager and of course the Scots Mac. They are planning to marry next September. It is all top secret, of course, until September 28. Mum and Dad took it marvellously. Dad thought an engagement might take place when they came back from Italy.

Lynn is like a changed person. For days now she's been uptight and sharp tempered. We all noticed it. Now we know why. The nerves must have got to her. Good old Dave joining the family is a great thing. Mum and Dad of course think he's marvellous. Blimey, another wedding in the clan! I always thought that Lynn and Dave would do the obvious but ___________________.

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Tuesday September 13, 1977

Jacqui.

Jacqui phoned today and said she and Joy are coming up on September 23 for the weekend. They are staying at a flat in Leeds and she suggests we go out for a couple of nights on the town. I say it's a great idea and we had a pleasant chat about it. However, John (Grady) phoned from Rossendale this evening and said next weekend wouldn't be suitable for our visit to Lancashire, and could we make it the weekend after instead? All would have been fine but what about Jacqui coming from deepest Muswell Hill? John is undeterred and says she's only after my Hylda Baker body. We laughed. I think of Dave G. He'll never be able to get Sept 17 off. Oh God, I'm fed up with all this muddled arranging. John also said Noel would be free to join us on Sept 24 because he's going away with his fiance next weekend. We'll sort something out and I'll contact Jacqui tomorrow.

Tonight I sat and worked out the number of people descended from my grandparents John Wilson and Levinyer Wood. You may think it a silly thing to do but I'm interested. They have 35 descendants, 17 of them male; 18 female. They are all living too. They range from 58 years to one week old. I was the eighth grandchild and fifteenth descendant, and sixth grandson. Only 10 of the descendants bear the name Wilson today. The other 25 are Harwoods, Myers, Gadsbys, Williams, &c. They don't have as many descendants as King Edward III, but they haven't had the amount of time he's had. A proper little statistician aren't I?

Retired to bed at midnight.

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Monday September 12, 1977

A ghastly day. Staggered to work feeling like Anne Boleyn must have felt after her tragic loss. Lady Jane Grey too, and Lord Haw Haw. Yes, my head was far from well. Abominable is a far too mild an adjective to use. By 12 noon I was moaning, yawning and close to tears. I phoned Tony who was also very close to death. I informed him that I could stand no more and on putting down the receiver I lost consciousness and fell crashing to the floor from my desk. Some amiable editor must have carried me from the building and placed me on an omnibus because I regained consciousness somewhere in the Guiseley area at about 1pm.

Luncheon was also a great strain and afterwards I fell from the table and into bed. You'll be pleased to know that by tea time I was more or less back to normal. Oh what a time. As I grow older my hangovers get steadily worse. By the time I'm 25 I shall be paying regular visits to one of those rehabilitation centres. You may laugh, but it's true.

Autumn: nationalised?

Some of that famous glint came back to my sad old eyes at 7.30 when 'Coronation Street' came on the television. It's programmes like this that make life so well worth living, folks.

Nothing much more to say, playmates. Have you enjoyed reading this page? Good. September is always such a nice month, don't you think? Or have the authorities in your era scrapped the old months system? Well, it wouldn't surprise me if they have nationalised autumn.

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Sunday September 11, 1977

14th after Trinity. Tony, Martyn, Georgina and Jenny came here at about 5 o'clock straight from Nostell Priory where they'd spent the afternoon. Martyn was stoned out of his mind and looked ghastly. They said how he'd just about been thrown out of the priory after collapsing over a china cabinet packed with object d'art.

Hanging Heaton.

We went first to Ilkley and then to Hanging Heaton and Christine Byram's party. We met Christine (Byram) at the Fox and Hounds first and we all got slightly boozed up. Jenny and Georgina are good girls. The elder one is 28, I think, but doesn't look it at all.

The party was going well but things were marred when Eileen and Michael burst in like members of the National Front. Eileen screamed at a quaking Christine, telling her to 'piss off' and Michael bashed a spotty sixth former who happened to say something out of place. A bad show it was. I made some attempt at appeasement, but like the late Neville Chamberlain, I had no success whatsoever.

Christine had a good weep but by 1am things were more or less back to normal. I became most intoxicated and remember grovelling on the floor with either Georgina or Jenny. My God she knows how to kiss. At one point I thought I might be sucked in altogether. Please remind me to ask Tony which just which girl it was being so nice to me. Another young lady gave me a gin cocktail which probably had a dash of every other spirit in it and that was the last thing I can recall. It is said I made a staggering entry into Pine Tops at something in the region of 4am. Mama was awakened by my pissed staggerings but no blows were exchanged. Oh my head.

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Saturday September 10, 1977

A quiet time at home playing records like Jimmy Savile throughout the day and watching TV by night.

I attempted to phone Christine Byram to inform her that Tony, Martyn and I are going to her party tomorrow, but got no answer.

The lads came round after lunch and we lounged around watching a Jules Verne-type epic on BBC2. I told them quite adamantly that I wasn't going out tonight, and they went away in a state of shock. They went to Il Trovatore last night and met Chris and Pete M.

John came up to assist Dad with some joinery work, but I didn't move from the chair. The clock went to eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve and then one without me moving a single muscle. Finally went to bed at 1.20am.

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Friday September 9, 1977

Busy at the YP. Just Kathleen and I. However, after eight hours toiling we were still living and I was out and finished for the weekend.

Tony took John and Maria to Blackpool for the day, and he rang at 6 to say he'd be over in a couple of hours with Martyn. To the Harrogate Arms where we met Naomi, Carolle Jones, Graham Peel, the Royal We, Carole, Fogarty, Dave Lazenby, Ron (Denise's Ron), and others. I just didn't feel right. Was sick to death of everyone. __________. Miss Phillips was a pain in the neck. Why does she have to be so bloody childish? Oh, what does it matter anyway? In 200 years time who'll give a damn? Three pints later we left for home.I informed them of my visit to Harewood next Friday. They want tickets too, but when I say they're £8 they fall into a silence. I say I'm staying in tomorrow, but neither believed me I think.

Mum and Dad were watching an ancient film 'Family Way' and I plonked myself down with them.

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Thursday September 8, 1977

Miserable bloody weather. I had a rare half day and managed to escape at 12. At lunchtime I went with Sue, Peter and Uncle H to the Commercial where we had roast beef and dripping sandwiches and a few pints. Mum and Dad came in at 2. Annie (Lindley) sat on my knee and we laughed our heads off.

Annie Lindley.

Uncle H, being alcoholic, is pissed as a frog after three pints, and to make matters worse he bought a bottle of whisky from the bar to take back for a further session.

Later we were joined by Edith and Ernest and knocked back ginger beer, wine, whisky, lager and beer. By 7 o'clock we were all canned and some of the party were complaining of hunger. Within minutes we were at the Hare (where Judith was playing at barmaids) on our way to the Flying Pizzatoo at Burley-in-Wharfedale. The restaurant was jam packed and we seemed to be waiting hours for our food.

Harry's changed a good deal since April. He's older and not half the fun he once was.

We all went back to Edith and Ernest's at about 11 for glasses of his cloudy pink champagne, but the end of the night was ruined by Uncle Harry's behaviour. At 12.30 he stormed out, packed his pathetic belongings and was away down the lane with his dog, Tan, telling me to 'piss off' and that he will never come back to Yorkshire. Isn't it a terrible thing? Mum came home with a raging headache.

Dom(inic) Melville arrived at some late hour to say he had seen Harry walking towards Rawdon and wanted to know if there was anything he could do.

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Wednesday September 7, 1977

A busy day. Carol J is off with some mysterious disease ___________, and Sarah is a complete misery and goes home at 4 feeling off it. When she gets low she really does just that. ______.

TUC conference.

The newspapers today are quite void of news other than the insane ramblings of the TUC at their Blackpool conference. When I'm the absolute power in this land that little organisation is one which will be liquidated straight away, no messing, despite the fact that I am a member of the National Graphical Association, or something equally hideous.

Tony phoned and asked if I fancied going with him and Naomi to visit Steve Hailes in hospital. I declined the invitation because no doubt the hospital visit will have culminated in some sort of liquid excercise which I can ill afford. He quite understood.

Martyn came at 9 to have Sue cut his hair, leaving shortly afterwards with a far more groomed appearance. Good old Martyn. Lynn is getting on my nerves. ________________________. David came up tonight, Dave B, that is. ___________.

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Tuesday September 6, 1977

Lady Jane Wellesley

Chatting with Uncle Harry tonight we decided to form a new political party. The National Rhodes Party, or the NRP. I'm going to be chancellor, Mum is going to put on her big hat and make history by being the first woman Home Secretary, and Uncle H is earmarked for Prime Minister. The small moustache and grey hair are his credentials. We haven't yet decided just what job Dad will fill, but no doubt we'll come up with something. A good idea, don't you think? We would do a damn sight better than Mr Callaghan and Company, of this I'm sure.


The YP was up to its usual standard. Kathleen was a pain in the neck and Sarah was in a ghastly mood all day. So we had quite a cheerful time of it.

Harry: Prime Minister.

One of the papers (the Sun, I think) says Lady Jane Wellesley is back on the scene with the Prince of Wales. The woman is in her 27th year and I hardly think she's up to any rigorous sessions of child-bearing which will of course be necessary if she marries the heir. Besides, we don't want a Queen with ________.Will she do for Prince Andrew, perhaps?


Watched TV tonight. Mum, Dad and Harry went to the Commercial for a quick one, and it was on their arrival home at 10.30 that the plans for Britain's new political leadership emerged.

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