Tuesday July 31, 1979

_. Torrential rain. Ally signed for her house on Club Street, and all is going ahead. When I saw the property last Friday I was pleasantly surprised. It seems solid and well cared for. Ally says that the interior is even better and more pleasing to the eye.

Sarah wants me to accompany her to the Grand Theatre next week to see Hamlet. Derek Jacobi is playing the prince. Dad would like to come too, but Mum refuses to entertain the idea. Wild horses wouldn't get Mum to the theatre, unless it was  John Hanson in 'The Desert Song'.

Listened to Jacqueline du Pre, the cellist, playing Beethoven's 'The Ghost'. Bloody awful, Ludwig.

-=-

Monday July 30, 1979

_. I've been sniggering about something that I know you'll find offensive, but I cannot keep it to myself. Ally has been bombarded at work about the whereabouts of the litre bottle of Martini at Friday's party. She is a very honest person and told them that she had taken the bottle home. The Martini was mine to take. I have the receipt and proof that it cost me £4. In any court of law I would be proved the legal owner. Never once did I inform the hostess that the bottle was hers. I had purchased it to consume at the party, and failing to do so I took it home with me. Naughty of me, I know, but can one be arraigned before a magistrate for having bad manners?

The real horror came when Ally had to deny any knowledge of stealing the hideous little Chinese dragon which at this moment is grimacing hideously at me from my bedside cabinet. Why on earth did I take it? Why does anybody actually steal anything? Why did footballer Bobby Moore pinch an apparently worthless bracelet in downtown Bogata at the 1970 World Cup? Such phenomenons do occur.

Obviously, the half bottle of vodka endeared me to the brightly coloured creature, and that's about all I can say on the matter.

Ally thinks I will be haunted by this dragon for ever. We've decided to call him Duncan.

-=-

Sunday July 29, 1979

_. 7th Sunday after Trinity.

Up at almost 1pm. Wait for Ally who was blow drying her hair. At 1:30 we went to meet Susan and Peter at the Halfway House pub and sat in the garden eating potato crisps. They have a grotesque Alsatian dog, who resembles a donkey but with fangs.

Back to Pine Tops at 2:30. We sat in the garden. I find it difficult sunbathing in Yorkshire after being in Ibiza. It just isn't the same.

At 4 John, Maria, JPH and Catherine came. Baby is heavier and more gorgeous. They took baby home at 6 and JPH stayed to tea. He sat on my lap dunking ginger biscuits in my tea. He really can converse on a very intelligent level.

-=-

Saturday July 28, 1979

_. Woke up at 12 noon. Susan says she fancies a day trip to the Yorkshire Dales. We packed the car with everything imaginable and went first down to the Fox at Menston, and then Grassington via Otley, where I refused to rent a tent - it would have cost £6 for one miserable night.

We ate at the Forester's Arms, Grassington and then drank in the Devonshire and the Black Horse. However, we were not really up for alcohol consumption. Ally looked like an ancient mummified Egyptian Queen. None of us showed any enthusiasm.

At 10pm we drove to Pete's cousin's at Foxup Farm, but the relative refused to offer us any accommodation, not even the use of one of her fields, and so we ventured home where I passed into a coma in a chair. The house was full of smoke. The cause of it was Maria the chimney and John.

-=-