All quite mad . . .

I worked on and off all day on my art notes on Neo-Impressionism. Outside it was foggy and dank, but much milder.

At eight I set off for Robin Quinn’s birthday party, but first had to walk on to Moxthorpe to buy three bottles of Strongbow, then trudged hurriedly back in the opposite direction past the cemetery on Easterby Road, my three precious bottles clanking in my arms, my long old coat flapping in the dark. I must’ve looked just like an old wino.

Robin, Carol Lancaster, Nigel Muff and a few others were there when I arrived, and there was a lot of food and drink spread out in the kitchen. My express intention was to get pissed and this I did by downing large amounts of cider and wine. Soon the house full of people like David James, Sean Helpern (all the rowdies from school) and Wendy Truswell and Sharon Horsfield, who both accosted me in the kitchen. Sharon especially was very drunk; she deliberately tried to spill her drink on me, and whenever I stood up, Wendy told me to sit back down. Then Wendy spilled drink on herself, so I helped her wipe it off, both in the kitchen and then, somehow, in the bathroom. Inevitably I suppose, as I was vigorously rubbing her backside with a sponge, she bent low and kissed me. . . .

Afterwards I blundered into Robin’s bedroom, where I found him lying on the bed, gazing up at the ceiling and looking thoroughly pissed off. A few minutes later, when Wendy went to see him, there was a big commotion as drunken people stumbled in on them and he erupted, in tears now, yelling “piss off!” and lashing out, and suddenly flew at me and thumped me in the gut. I felt really bad because he was so upset, and I was sure it was specifically because of what had happened in the bathroom, although I found out later he was just upset because he and Wendy have split up or something.

God, Sharon was so drunk! Although she's going out with David, she kept dragging me on top of her and even tried to put her hand down my trousers!. . . . Lynn Norden and Sean Helpern were holed up in the bathroom . . . Tim Moyles and head girl Elaine Buckley snogging in the corner. . . . All quite mad. Downstairs, Wendy sat glumly with Steve, who was doing his annoying marriage-guidance counsellor bit and kept telling me to leave so he and Wendy could talk. I got quite snappy with him I think. Chaos in the living room, people tangled on the floor watching TV. . . .

As the party was winding down Robin apologised and shook my hand, saying “no hard feelings” but as I walked out of the door with Steve, Sharon, Wendy and David, he said “thanks for ruining it,” whether at me or Wendy I couldn’t tell. . . .