Saturday November 11, 1978

Sun rises 07:11 Sun sets 16:18

Up at 7:30 and breakfast on eggs and bacon and things. I have a bedroom with my own little sink (or wash basin). Just like staying at Chequers or the Royal Lodge, Windsor. Unfortunately, no headed note paper in the bedroom.

At 9:30 or 10 we were in the heart of London. Derek and Carol went off to the Mansion House to see Sir Kenneth Cork set out in his gilt coach, while Jacq and I found our way to St Paul's where we had seats in the stand at the rear of the cathedral & opposite the BBC cameras. All very exciting. The procession came by us at about 11:30 and it went on for an hour. We didn't have a good view of the Lord Mayor because he was waving to the crowds out of the far side of his carriage when he past us. Just a glimpse of his arse~clad red robes. A cold, foggy day.

After endless floats and marching bands Jacq and I pushed our way through the crowds to the Cockpit pub in the shadow of St Paul's. From here we wandered into Fleet Street and into the Old Cheshire Cheese, which was re~built in 1667! Saw dust on the floors and old war veterans propping up the bar. Quite pissed by 3pm. Joined Derek and Carol who were lingering in the Lotus by the Thames. Back to Northwood where we all collapsed, some of us snoring like pigs.

Tonight we went to Harefield for dinner ~ The Old Oak Tree, or something. Food was good but the cabaret diabolical. Derek was hilarious and had us in stitches throughout. Carol had sole and she poked and prodded at it.

Back to Northwood at 12:30 where we had a few drinks and a xylophone session. Sang 'Red Sails in the Sunset' and other old favourites, &c. Laughed a good deal.

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Friday November 10, 1978

Felt ghastly all morning. By avoiding eating curry last night I think I saved myself the horror, suffering and hardship like wot I experienced last week.

At 12:30 Jacq and I left for London. Met at Hendon at 4:30 (in fog) by Carol Sate, Jacq's step~mother. A woman with short, swept back hair. Drove to Northwood which took half an hour or so. Emma, the Sate's long~haired Dachshund fell in love with me. I fell in love with the posh house and Derek Sate's Lotus Elite.

The four of us dined and then had a slide~show, with projector and big white screen. Thousands of photos of the Grand Canyon and floating restaurants in Hong Kong. Slides too of Jacq, with long, flowing hair.

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Thursday November 9, 1978

Sunny. Not like November. Happy birthday to King Edward VII wherever you are.

I phoned Jacq at 11 to ask what time she could escape for lunch. She told me she was going to go to Jacomelli's with her cronies from Dacre, Son and Hartley. ________________.

At 12 I went to Len's Bar with Sarah for Stella Artois and beef sandwiches. The place was dead. We both like quiet, deserted bars, and especially discotheques. She says she cannot understand why _________ attracts so many men. Obviously, some guys will go out with anything that shags, but I don't tell Sarah this and say I am also mystified.

Back at work we just didn't want to work. Drink in the afternoon takes it out of you. She (Sarah) is peeved that I won't be at Grant's leaving party tomorrow. So am I. Home for din~dins at 5:30.

Tonight saw another horrendous piss~up at the Shoulder (of Mutton) with Pete N, Chippy, Frank, Gus, Dave W, &c. Gus is going to Israel to work on a kibbutz, so he says, next year and we argued the pros and cons. From the Shoulder we went to see Christine at the Fox (and Hounds). Susie was in with Janet Simon and we sat with them for a while. Martyn was there. He says I am more than welcome to go next year with him, Tony, Pete M, and Chris R to a caravan in St Tropez. I couldn't think of anything more obnoxious. To Oakwood and got horribly pissed. Home at 2.

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Wednesday November 8, 1978

Christine phoned. A remarkable coincidence would seem to have cropped up. She told me she's going to London with Mrs B at the weekend and I leapt in and said "so am I" - to be told she's returning home from Victoria Coach Station at 6pm on Sunday, and Jacq and I will be on the same coach! It's going to be a riot. The poor driver won't know what's hit him. The passengers of a nervous disposition are going to have to delve for inner strength and courage. The combination of CB and I on a charabanc will be like the assassination of Robert Kennedy, three Royal Variety performances and the Pope's hire~wire trapeze act ~ all rolled into one.

CB is going to the Fox tonight and is working tomorrow. I am going to ring and suggest we go to Oakwood Hall after she finishes.

Jim Rawnsley says he is meeting the Prince of Wales, in his official capacity, when HRH visits Leeds next week. He and Muriel are in the official party to go to the Opera at the Grand {Theatre}. He's dreading it and would do anything to avoid going. Life is very unfair. I'd sacrifice my left knee to be sitting in the Royal Box.

Tonight we watched the first part of 'Edward and Mrs Simpson'. Thoroughly enjoyed it. I can see why some people wanted the series stopped.


Bed at 12:18am.

Tuesday November 7, 1978

Moon's first quarter 16:18

Sunny day. Sarah's 26th birthday, of course. Lunchtime saw the celebration at Da Mario's on the Headrow. I stuck to the old, faithful pizza but we had prawn starters and trifle, &c.

This morning I gave the birthday girl one of my speciality cards with a personal verse chucked in for good measure.

Sarah, Carol J, Eileen and Marilyn W for lunch ~ once again I was the only male in sight. Let me tell you now that on occasions it becomes tedious and trying to be the constant centre of adulation.

Later, to the dentist. Surprised that I don't need any work doing. I feel as if I should perhaps climb into my own mouth and shake each tooth by the hand in gratitude.

Watched tv tonight. Charles Darwin again. Bed at midnight with Adolf Hitler.

PS ~ Lynn & Dave came this evening.

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Monday November 6, 1978

Miserable day at the YP. Sarah not in a happy mood. I sat admiring a new batch of photographs of Princess Michael of Kent. A classic beauty, stylish, &c. Sarah came out with a tirade of abuse directed at the images of HRH and said she looks 'plain'. Plain?

Delia phoned wanting to know Princess Marina's date of death. I told her (August, 1968). She didn't ask to speak to her daughter, which was just as well.

On the home front all is calm. Susan and Mum spent the night knitting with gusto. In fact it looked just like the war effort all over again. Peter didn't come up tonight because Margaret & Jim have taken his car and gone to see Lynn and Dave, and Pete always refuses to scale the heights of Hawksworth Lane on foot. (Even Sherpa Tenzing Norgay did it by car).

I had piles of sandwiches heavily coated in Mama's own pickle. Stupendous.

Jacq phoned to say Derek is taking us out to dinner on Saturday night at his golf club and so could I possibly pack something other than jeans. That rubbed me up the wrong way. When do I ever go anywhere taking only jeans?

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Sunday November 5, 1978

24th after Trinity

8th Sunday before Christmas

Hullo Guy Fawkes, wherever you are. Up at 10:30 for gallons of toast and piles of hot, buttered tea (sic). A sunny, bright, autumn day. Jacq and I stayed at Lawn Road throughout and had a pleasant time with Lynn & Dave.

Lynn dragged us round Burley for half an hour before giving us a massive luncheon. My job for the entire day was to stoke the fire and keep it blazing. Either Lynn's made a close friend of Arthur Scargill or they've found a rich coal seam beneath the house.

Watched a Fred Astaire film which included scenes from the 1947 Royal wedding at the end. Sarah Churchill, Winston's daughter, had a part in the film too. She certainly resembles old Clem. It was all quite nauseating.

Jacq and Lynn seem to have hit it off marvellously. Jacq sees a good deal of me in Lynn and vice versa.

Later we watched Lillie Langtry ~ no comment. Home in fog at 10 o'clock.

Mum and Dad had just returned from Auntie Mabel's. Mama looked really nice in a new green dress with the handbag and shoes bought for the wedding. She was laughing over the Sunday Express article about the Prince of Wales escorting Princess NORA of Liechtenstein.

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