20240314

Sunday March 25, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn

British Summer Time begins

3rd Sunday in Lent

Bacon sandwiches and the Sunday Telegraph. Fuss about the Queen's visit to Jordan tomorrow. King Hussein is reported to have said that Amman is safer than London. I would agree. Her Majesty flies out with Exocet detectors attached to the royal Tristar, and Mrs T has held an emergency meeting at Chequers, &c. All silly. We do not want the sovereign wrapped upm and cocooned from the outside world.

A quiet Sunday pub. Oh yes, one of The Bachelors (an early 20th century Irish vocal group) held court in the lounge last night. People greased around him as though he was Julio Iglesias or perhaps Des O'Connor. 

Veal for lunch. Doris Day film. Torvill and Dean nausea. They got 48 million perfect sixes in Ottawa. He really should make a honest woman of her. Ate chocolate and laughed at 'Bonanza'. Everyone had rabies.

Phoned Mama. She gave me a list of dates when they can visit for Samuel's christening. July 1 or July 22. Ally has spoken to Bessie. Her conversation was interrupted by Lady Atkinson, 'wife of that man involved in shipping', knocking on the door and asking for money for the local Tories. She must be the wife of Sir Robert Atkinson. Other neighbours, those across the lane, are called Napier and 'he's line line to have a title'. We have several Napier baronets and Lords Napier of Magdala and Napier & Ettrick. The latter is Princess Margaret's private secretary, but his heir is only a boy.They recently met the Earl of Strafford at the Hargreaves residence. Talk about 'high society'. Bessie isn't remotely interested in all this and isn't a snob, but knows of my interest in the peerage. Am I a snob?

The husband of the (Yorkshire) Ripper's second victim Emily Jackson came in the pub tonight. Tart mad he is.

-=-



20240313

Saturday March 24, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn

Extremely wet. Slept in. Maureen came in and found me in my lemon karate-style dressing gown. Did I spy a hint of lust beneath those old, mud-spattered spectacle frames? I lay abed with my wife, son and Daily Telegraph. The Tisdall girl who pinched a document from Michael Heseltine's office and passed it on to the ghastly Guardian has gone down for six months. There's an outcry at the harsh sentence! She wouldn't see the light of day again if I had been the judge.I am deliriously right-wing. Mike Brown says, and I'm sure I've repeated this before, that I am to the right of Genghis Khan.

Breakfast late. Went out at 10 and bought £10 of copper from the Post Office. Coming back I spied the vicar in his study preparing his sermon, and I called in to tell him that May 20 (for Samuel's christening) is quite out of the question. So, back to the drawing board. Apparently it requires a dispensation from the bishop to have Samuel baptized mid-afternoon. What hideous bureaucracy. 

Quiet afternoon. Ally and I sat in the bar with Terry (Egan). Ally and I have decided that we are perhaps too critical of bar staff. They are bloody good really, but living with people on a daily basis does highlight their faults. John phoned. They are not coming. Janette is going out and he is babysitting for Lynn and Dave.To Morrison's and spent £32. 

-=-

20240312

Friday March 23, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds 11

L. Gledhill phoned at 8:30 and was here an hour later and we went to court in order for me to acquire a full licence. Stood in a crowded corridor full of shoplifters, child molesters and prostitutes. One fallen lady looked extremely like Jean Shrimpton, in 60s gear which hadn't been laundered since 1966. After waiting an hour we were told by an usher that I need not actually appear in person and that the licence transfer is automatic. Sod it. And there I was dressed up like a tailors' dummy too. Samuel Smiths tie, the lot. 

Back home for 11. Leslie is so easy to talk to and not lacking in humour -unlike Fran O'Brien. Ally was making pastry and looked like a flour grader (see TV advertisements circa 1970-80). 

Samuel is upset about something. His nappies and out lying clothing spattered in yellow and foaming. He grumbled anyway. Later Ally slept on her pile of cushions and I had a plumber to the gents toilets. Vandals have attempted to walk off with a cistern tank. 

Not frantic tonight because Jane worked too. It's going to be a regular thing because last week I was too exhausted working six hours flat out. Ally forgot to bank today and so we had no change. Calamity. Audrey went across to the club and found some. 

News: The miners are still out. We are told that the Princess of Wales is just as nauseated as she was in her first pregnancy. (The Prince of) Wales himself is still in Africa. 

To bed after 12.

-=-


Thursday March 22, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds

Janice, the (fruit) machine woman came. A batch of photographs arrived mainly featuring Samuel in numerous positions. Some scantily clad. Ally left me holding the baby and bombed off to her dentist in Shipley. How did we ever manage to get through life being separated all day in our distant, grubby offices? She was back with gleaming polished pegs and no further visits until September. Busy lunches. ____________.

-=-

20240311

Wednesday March 21, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds 11

Springtime, &c. Slept late and Ally was in a temper about it because she wanted to be in town and shopping by 9. I was wallowing in the bath at this time. I told her frankly that we cannot rush or adhere to a strict timetable with Samuel. Eventually we went to Leeds at 10 and pushed the baby around in his pram breathing in the fresh, unpoluted air, and peering in shop windows. Bought very like. I looked at shoes.

Back for 12 to do the lunches. It was a busy few hours. Afterwards we took our son and heir to the clinic and had him weighed. 11lb 8oz. He behaved well midst the screaming multitude and for the most part he sat wide eyed and silent. A poor child there, from a mixed race liaison, had black and white patches all over his little face. He looked like a chessboard. The mother looked to be no older than 16. 

Back for 3:30. Lazed around and later snoozed in a chair. Made a fish pie, but Ally moaned that my messing around in the kitchen took too long. Saw 'Minder' and then the news. Mrs T is giving them jip in Brussels. At this rate we'll be out of the EEC by Christmas.

-=-

Tuesday March 20, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds

Peter N is 26 today. We left a present for him with John on Saturday. It's a shirt. I do like Peter Nason. You always know just where you stand with him. After ten years he hasn't changed in any way. 

Ally made it to the bar at 5:30 and did some cleaning. The place is a pigs breakfast and hasn't been touched properly in years. Filthy Piries.

Samuel is a bulky, stocky little thing. We are having him weighed tomorrow and are placing bets as to what he'll weigh in at. Ally says 11lb 9oz, and I say 11lb 13oz. His hair is coming back and will be dark.

Dead downstairs tonight. Jane stood around like a pound of wet cod. Things seldom hot up until the last half hour. Mike Brown and David Parry came in. We discussed non-consummation of marriage. What is non-consummation? Is it failure to penetrate or failure to ejaculate?

News: the dear PM goes to Brussels to sock it to the EEC sumit.

-=-

Monday March 19, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds

Another stocktake. Rob came at 8:30, and I staggered around with him, my eyes like piss holes in the snow. Felt most unrefreshed from my six hours in the Land of Nod. A good stock. A £30 surplus no less. Colin Black was upon us at 10:30 with Barry Jones who re-programmed the tills. Nigel Lawson's budget alterations now mean that Old Brewery bitter is 57p a pint , lager 69p, Sovereign bitter 60p, mild 56p, &c. Very good prices in comparison with Tetley's and the others.

Pork chops at 2. Audrey loves taking every opportunity to creep upstairs and peep into our little world. ____. Afterwards we all slept in a heap by the gas fire (Ally on a pile of cushions), me nursing Samuel, as 'Blue Peter' twittered in the background. 

Went downstairs at 5:30. Old Reg says he will go blind in six months. All were grousing at the price rises, but they will all have forgotten by next week. Joan glided in at 8 looking like she had just stepped out of the Savoy Grill. Immediately she mucked up the till and to avoid strangling her I adjourned upstairs where bathtime was just complete and Samuel lay sucking and giggling.

Harry and Marion Miller came in and I took them up to Ally after 10 minutes to avoid a drunken Irishman who was going on and on about Lord Mountbatten's assassination. Later I threw him out for signing Irish rebel songs. Harry Miller goes on and on but his heart is in the right place.

We got rid of Joan in a taxi. The Millers left at 11:30.

-=-


Sunday March 18, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds

2nd Sunday in Lent

No leisurely day abed for me. I was up at 8:30 and cleaned the beer lines. Ally came down and wiped shelves. The very old cleaner Anne doesn't always see the dirt. 

Old diaries came out last night and we re-lived ___________.

Dead to the world. Headache. Ally made a beautiful lunch. Veal, &c. We ate at 3 and collapsed for a couple of hours afterwards watching a hopeless film. We bathed Samuel at 5:30. He takes such notice of us nowadays. 

Ally went down at 7 with every intention of opening for the first hour but no sooner was she downstairs when Samuel awoke in howls and she had to come back up for the duration. It was busy later. Jane, mysterious Jane. She holidayed in the Bahamas last year. Just what dark secret does she harbour? Ally says she is recovering from a broken romance. Bed late. Read Noel Coward.

Takings: (B) £143.48, (L) £167.90

-=-

Saturday March 17, 1984

 St Patrick's Day

I went down at 11, without Secret Service cover, and waited for 'Lurch' to return and tear my head off. Obviously, he didn't appear. It was supposed to be a Michael Brown Saturday, but he didn't come either. I propped up the bar in the lounge and did little work. At 3 we drove to Guiseley and found Lynn and Susan out. Went to see John and found the Bakers at the flat. Katie has begun to talk, and seems to have 'come on' as Lynn would say. Frances was tatty. They looked like 'ragamuffins' in fact. That's something my mother says. What are ragamuffins? Janette delights in visitors and made us tea and cake. Samuel, in blue and white stripes today, looks edible. He is Ally's double.

I opened at 7. Had a quiet night. Margaret (Milne) joined me at 8. Marlene and Frank came in with another couple (he was heavily tattooed). Frank drank Mandarine Napoleon brandy, and they left at 10. Debbie enjoyed the holiday in Austria, but Mark hated it.

Ally and I had a long, in depth chatter about children. We are in agreement on everything.

Takings: (B) £178.16, (L) £198.82

-=-

Friday March 16, 1984

 Frantically busy. Today is my grandfather Wilson's birthday _________. Christine Braithwaite also celebrates today, as does Tony Brotherwood.

We have been putting up with a psycopathic drug-pusher who makes regular appearances in the tap room with a batttered lady friend with lank hair and a mock leather coat. The guy appears to be about seven feet tall and looks like a character from a Peter Cushing Hammer film. Tonight he annoyed me, and stepped out of line, throwing a dart behind the bar which speared a packet of nuts and was immediately 'clotched' as they say in Leeds. He left without a struggle but threatened to come back tomorrow at 11am to 'tear my head off'. Evil Edna was very chuffed at this very public 'clotching'. The man was a nuisance.

Up late. Ate currant tea cakes and watched a late 60s film. Ally delicious. Samuel slept well.

Takings: (B) £227.12, (L) £189.81

-=-

20240309

Thursday March 15, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds

Greville: Puff?

Stayed in bed until 8. I am resassured to read in the Daily Telegraph that since the budget N. Lawson is now a serious contender for the Tory leadership after Mrs T's resignation in 1995. I am of the same opinion. How long will Margaret go on? If she is defeated in 87/88 then it will be curtains, but a third term will see the PM in her late 60s and surely heading to retirement.  Interesting. 

Samuel, wearing his new clothes, did a lot of giggling. He now has fat knees and pudgy hands, and I cannot begin to describe the joy I feel when he looks upn at me - his father. I could weep. 

A volume of Noel Coward's diaries arrived in the post. An excellent volume. Why are almost all diarists with the exception of Samuel Pepys, homosexual? Is it an effeminate thing for a man to do? Were Greville and Creevey both poofs? And how about that Sassoon chappie? I can assure you that I am not sat here in a Hardy Amies creation with pink finger nails and string of pearls. Actually I look very respectable. Grey pants, blue shirt and a red tie. Every inch a publican. 

Lunch was a mad rush. Lots of food orders. Barely had time to eat afterwards. ______. Busy until 8. Went upstairs when Margaret and Karen came in. Watched the news. The Queen Mother was at the races watching the Cheltenham Gold Cup bringing a bit of light relief to the miners' crisis and the Labour furore about poor Mark Thatcher's Oman deal. Too pitiful. Alison was ironing until 10. The boom of the juke box below was infuriating.

Takings: (B) £208.92, (L) £154.42

-=-

Sunday March 25, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn British Summer Time begins 3rd Sunday in Lent Bacon sandwiches and the Sunday Telegraph. Fuss about the Queen's visit to ...