Moorhouse Inn
Samuel had a lousy night and kept us awake at intervals. This broken night gave Ally a touch of the screaming Adolf Hitlers. The girl cannot miss out on her sleep. We went out at 9 and had Samuel photographed in his sailor suit at Boots. He looked a little toff. On to the pine shop on Burley Road where we spent £240 on bedside cabinets and a large chest of drawers. The salesperson looked like a painted doll. Ally did her very best to get some discount but the painted doll turned a deaf ear. I have never been comfortable bartering. Such an un-English thing to do. The flea markets and bazaars of Casablanca maybe, but not Kirkstall. We also went to Morrison's and spent £50 on nothing.
Back at the Moorhouse for 1 o'clock we found found Mum very bright and bustling around making lunch as in days of yore. She says the day had begun very badly because she had broken down catching sight of her reflection in the bathroom mirror. It's so cruel that she should look so ghastly when she has always been so self-conscious. At 2 we ate stew and Yorkshire puds together whilst listening to organ music from the Royal Albert Hall by Nicholas Kynaston (a cassette from David Howard). Ally found it very morbid.
Mabel, Marlene, Frank and Debbie came at 4.
(to be continued)