Friday September 7, 1979

Poor Uncle Harry. I knew he wouldn't last for long. He rose at noon and told Mama he was 'going to the bank', but he did not return until 3:30 and his balance was far from steady. When I arrived home at 5 I could sense an atmosphere. By 7 they were all gone for something called 'a basket meal'.

I opened a few bottles, switched on the stereo and waited for Alison. She arrived at 9 and we went to the White Cross where we were joined by Gus and Frank. Ally was sinking pints of lager and blackcurrant as if she'd spent eight days and nights in the Gobi Desert. In came Kathryn Chaffer with her husband Peter [Harrison?], and they came over for a chat. At 11, weighed down with bottles, we crossed the road to their little terrace house. They have only been married for five weeks, and so on entering the house we were required to remove our shoes ['the carpet is new']. We were also told that the wallpaper on the chimney breast cost £38. Yes £38 for just the one wall. Zzzzzzzz. Mrs Harrison proudly proclaimed: "the carpet just doesn't stop there ---- it goes all the way up the stairs". Isn't that what a stair carpet is supposed to do? Ally, so enthralled, fell asleep on the new sofa, snoring gently upon my shoulder. Kathryn and I did however see eye to eye on most things, including the monarchy. Peter, her husband, took me on one side to show me his Pirelli calendar collection. He seemed to be quite aroused by the crumpled 1973 edition.

We left the Chaffer residence at some obscure hour after consuming vast amounts of whisky. So much so that my chain of thought is now a rusting pile of scrap metal. We drove back to Bradford and fell in the door at something like 3am. Coffee and Emmerson, Lake and Palmer's 'Pictures at an Exhibition' playing full blast.

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Thursday January 4, 1979

Money. It seems an eternity since I saw a wage packet.

A Cold day, but the snow held off. To work with Jim {Rawnsley} who tells me that Muriel's mother is to be cremated tomorrow. Obviously, she must have died. In fact she departed this life last Friday. The poor old thing was only 68 and had a tumour as big as a tennis ball on her brain. Nauseating thought, eh?

Tonight: out with Pete (Nason), Chippy, Gus, Frank, Dave W, Micky Hebden, Kathryn Chaffer, &c, &c to the Shoulder of Mutton, Highroyds social club and then Oakwood Hall. Had a good dance and didn't get horribly pissed for a change. It is the last Thursday night out for Gus and Frank who are heading out to the Sinai Desert or the Golan Heights, next week. I suppose Gus will disrupt Mr Begin's peace talks and a flare up of the Middle East war must now be on the cards. General Dayan is definitely in for a rough time.

Actually I am not too sure how they will get on in the middle east and my wish is that they stick it out and benefit from the experience.

Chippy _____________________________.

He (Chippy) looked pained when I suggested that the manic Thursday nights will capsize now two prominent members are departing. He almost wept and said that he and Peter will still be out and about. Just the three of us? He says Dave W isn't really a member of the gang, but he always seems to be there when I am around. Chippy always has to be right.

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