Friday March 7, 1980

_. When my eyes opened I had that feeling that it was late. The noise outside was something of a give away. Ally was unconcerned. I shot downstairs clad only in my undies and shrieked with horror at the clock. It was 9:15. David was similarly distressed. He was supposed to be at a meeting in Manchester at 10. What should he tell his boss at Thompson & Spencer's? I came up with a plan. The house was raided by a gang of robbers last night. We were all bound hand and foot and unable to free ourselves. Dramatic, yes, but would it work? Dave wasn't convinced.

Ally and I fled from the house and I got a bus to Leeds. The bus took the scenic route and we saw the swans on the Wharfe at Pool. I was only half dressed and drained of colour. Walked into the office at 10:30. Like a zombie. I did manage to do some work.

At 1pm I went over to Len's Bar to meet Delia who I haven't seen since Christmas. We sat on a Chesterfield sofa, but I thought I might be sick all over her. Delia was on top form, dressed in her very best 'WI look' and with a new sweeping hair do which does her no justice. She snorted with laughter at a man in the bar with an artificial leg, which was very cruel of her don't you think? Sarah was in a vile mood and disappeared to Marks and Spencer's. Delia kissed me when she left, but said that perhaps we ought not to have met. I must have looked dreadful. Back at the YP I found a spot behind a filing cabinet [the African countries M-Z] knowing I'd be left to sleep for an hour.

Home at 5. Bed at 11 like a cabbage.

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