Sunday July 13, 1980

_, 6th Sunday after Trinity

Up at 9:30. The house guests had been up since day break. Charlotte was half way through an Agatha Christie novel. Beef spread sandwiches and orange juice for breakfast.

We took leave of Mr & Mrs Smith and Ally went off to a shift at the Belfry, and I returned to Pine Tops. I had a second, more traditional breakfast, at home with Mum & Dad, Sue & Pete.

Went to paint at West End Terrace. A brown kitchen. Home at 6 looking like Larry Parks did when playing Al Jolson. Brown paint everywhere. Had pork for dinner. Ally did an evening shift at the Belfry. A little Trojan, she is.

-=-

Saturday July 12, 1980

_. Bank Holiday in Ireland - a day may be given in lieu

Up at 9. A hot bath. Breakfasted with Mum and Dad. Ally came at 11 and carried me off to York, that seething, crumbling hole of a city. Graham and Charlotte are not drunks, like some people I know, and so we had only the one drink in a very busy pub packed with Japanese and West Germans, weighed down with cameras and bags crammed with cheap British goods. It may have been a splendid place in the eighteenth century, but the advent of the motor car has killed any desirability. Shopped all afternoon, and bought Sue a camera for her 21st. Graham dragged Charlotte away to the National Railway Museum, and Ally and I returned to Club St. They joined us at 6 and we had a large dinner, steak, salad, strawberries, cream, cheese and biscuits, washed down with Graham's wine. We afterwards played a dreadful board game, the name of which sounds chinese [Mahjong].

-=-

Friday July 11, 1980

_. The Alexandra Palace has been destroyed by fire. Such a pity. I recall a beery afternoon in the sun there at the 'Ally Pally' ale festival with Jacq & Trixie in the summer of '78. Has Trixie dropped a fag there in one of her drunken sessions?

Up at 7 for breakfast with Ally, Graham and Charlotte. Just toast and tea. I went into the office, by the usual express coach. A dismal atmosphere prevailed. I received the Ayatollah's blessing to take Tuesday as a day off to observe the Queen Mother's 80th birthday celebrations on my TV screen. The pageant is to take place at St Paul's Cathedral with processions, bunting, pearls, and emotion, &c. Ally is joining us.

Spent the evening until after 9 painting at West End Terrace, and afterwards went with Sue, Pete and Janet Simon to the Shoulder and the New Inn. Janet is beautifully tanned after her French holiday. However, she loathed the resort [unnamed] and likened it to Morecambe. Home after 11 reeking of nicotine.

-=-

Thursday July 10, 1980

_. Over to Lidget Green at 5 in the busy traffic to dine with Ally. First we had to go shopping to Morrison's for provisions. To Mucky Willies, attached to the Coach House, at 8:30, just for one drink because neither of us were enthusiastic. Ally complained of feeling sick. Back to Wildfell Hall [sic] for lager and music. I sat reading Kenneth Grahame's 'Wind in the Willows', my eyes drifting to the clock. As the hour chimed 12 a Triumph Spitfire came to a halt outside and Mr and Mrs Graham Smith alighted onto the doormat. The four of us drank tea and exchanged six months of tittle tattle before we retired.

-=-

Wednesday July 9, 1980

_. The Royal papist marriage shock horror continues.

Sarah is going to the island of Rhodes in September with Trevor, the computer programmer chappie who seems to have captured her heart of late.

Sent a trilogy of letters to Ally, one on the subject of Peter the Hermit, a spiritual leader of the First Crusade who died July 8, 1108. He led a vast band from France to Constantinople, then on to Jerusalem, slaughtering and pilaging en route, and all in the name of Christianity.

TV tonight: 'Coronation Street' was fascinating. No other news to report.

-=-

Tuesday July 8, 1980

_. Owing to a decline in business Ally has been 'laid off' from her Tuesday shifts at the Belfry. It is only a matter of time before the merry echo of laughter from the creme de la creme of Bradford society is a thing of the past at Bolton Junction.

Ally collected the bridesmaid dresses and brought them to ours at 6, along with the wine table wedding present from Bessie Dixon. We went to West End Terrace and returned shortly afterwards due to lack of employment. Jim was there messing with the electrics. I suppose I should have mentioned his mother, but didn't.  Ally and I returned to Pine Tops and watched TV. Mum and Dad had been for liquid refreshment at Addingham and were bouncing around tonight full of fun.

Late tonight I saw something on the news stating that the government have no plans to repeal the Act of Settlement, which, amongst other things, prevents the heir to the throne from contracting marriage with a Roman Catholic. Obviously they have 'no plans'. Why should they? This nonsense about Marie-Astrid of Luxembourg has gone too far. Even the Times carried a leading article on the couple, who have probably never even met. Ian Paisley, the arch anti-papist is stirring the cauldron and the whole subject has become over inflated due to ignorance of the constitution.  It is weird that the Supreme Governor of the Church of England can be married to an atheist, but is barred by law from marrying a fellow Christian.

-=-

Monday July 7, 1980

_. Spent all day and most of the evening daubing biege paint on the kitchen ceiling at West End Terrace. No time for much else these days. Sue is tired and pale, and I'm sorry to say Pete is becoming something of a megalomaniac driving his workforce. However, it is falling into place. The predominant hue is brown.

Graham and Charlotte Smith are coming to stay with Ally from Thursday until Sunday because Graham is attending a conference at Harrogate, and isn't prepared to fork out for hotel bills. Ally broke this news to me with great care fully expecting an outcry of indignation. In fact I have taken it very well, and have agreed to join them for the 'festivities'. I was hoping to only spend a tiny amout of cash at the weekend because of the forthcoming stag night, the 21st birthday, the wedding, and the holiday.

-=-

Sunday July 6, 1980

_. 5th Sunday after Trinity

Up at 9. Eggs on toast with Ally before she left for the Belfry at Bolton Junction [why  do I insist on telling you where the Belfry is?]. Mum has a bad stomach and claims it's a chill that's been creeping up on her all week. She spent the day incarcerated in bed.

The Sunday Express has another article re the Prince of Wales and Princess Marie-Astrid of Luxembourg. All stuff and nonsense.

I sat watching TV all afternoon and my entertainment included a diabolical, yet entertaining, 1962 epic entitled 'The 300 Spartans'. Ludicrous dialogue. Dad joined me and we giggled from our armchairs.

Sue and Pete appeared in the evening for a subdued dinner. Mama was grumpy up in bed moaning that our 'squabbling' was upsetting her. Our 'squabbling' is a Sunday ritual where Susan witters on at me for not peeling the potatoes or laying the table.

We sat giggling again afterwards watching Frankie Howerd in 'Carry On Up the Jungle'.

-=-

Saturday July 5, 1980

_. Up at 7. My earliest sighting of a Saturday in years. Busy morning at the YP. Just Carol and I running things. The only thing of importance in the news was a miserable explosion at Sherburn-in-Elmet. A reporter at the scene says a man was blown to pieces. Only his shoes were recognisable.

Home at 2. Mum and Dad were at West End Terrace all afternoon. I sat eating bacon and eggs watching Bjorn Borg v. McEnroe at Wimbledon on the BBC. Ally turned up with a bottle of Emva Cream. We watched the match together. Tennis, in normal circumstances, leaves me cold, but this match was gripping. The scruffy, narrow-eyed Swede won the title for the fourth year in succession. The workers returned from West End Terrace just in time for the climax.

Mum and Dad went to Cracoe at 8. Sue, Pete, Ally and I went to the White Cross to meet Chippy, Debbie and Dave W, and then on to to the Square and Compass. This place is a god send after the drab and deary WC and Shoulder. Joined by Ken, Olive and John Sumpton, hot from Paris, where he's been cultivating a head of hair. It's longer than Borg's. Slightly pissed back to Pine Tops where Mum was in bed with a headache, which cut short the evening. Cracoe had been crowned and seething, she said.

-=-

Friday July 4, 1980

_. Independence Day, USA

I went to the YP from Bradford arriving at 8:45. A sunny, blustery sort of day. Frank Metcalfe blames the bad June weather on the volcanic eruption at Mount St Helena. Evidently we had similar atrocious conditions in 1815, after a previous blast. All I know about 1815 is that it was a good year for Wellingtons......  [Waterloo]... Oh dear.

Happy Birthday to HRH Prince Michael of Kent who renounced his claim to a place in the order of succession to the throne in order to marry his stunning Roman Catholic Baroness. I am struck with horror, nay aghast, at the fact that she, Marie-Christine, can never be queen, whereas Patricia Countess of Harewood, an Aussie, and former shorthand typist with a previous husband still living, can.

Rang Ally. She too is working tomorrow afternoon. I left the office at 12. Back at home I had to climb up the rose trees and into my bedroom window because once again I'd forgotten my key. Mum and Dad came in at 2 and I went with Dad to hang wallpaper at West End Terrace. Ally came at 4, with newly permed hair, and Mama was with her looking dejected. They been in Otley together scouring the shops looking for an outfit for Mum to wear at the wedding. Tales of hideous Crimplene skirts at £108, and all that. Ally to the Belfry at 6.

Marlene, Frank, the children, and Auntie Mabel arrived for tea, bringing a wedding present for Sue and Pete.

--=-

Thursday July 3, 1980

_. Sunny. I agreed to go to Ally's after work because she came into Leeds on business for Derek Jenkins, and timed her departure for Bradford with my departure from the YP.

Sarah has been 'flashed'. I paid my union subs. Still writhing with my conscience over NATSOPA. Shazza thinks I'll be signing my own death warrant if I tell the FOC where to get off.

Met Ally at 5. I can picture Bessie sitting, smiling, in her deckchair, saying: 'She's just like Frank's mother.' On to Lidget Green. Drank lager and blackcurrant juice and had some horrible fish and chips. Ally has a calendar hanging in the kitchen and I laughed at Tuesday's entry. The word 'swine', presumably written there because I went to Delia's for tea.

Out to the Bod and discussed the rapidly looming holiday, and the gripping subject of Sarah's hair colour. Then back to 'Rue Club' for the night. I do think that despite some minor disagreements we are very much one soul. A fiery chemistry of muddled emotions.

-=-

Wednesday July 2, 1980

_. A dry day. Industrious day at the YP with my hard-working assistant, John, from Worsburgh, near Barnsley. Sarah left at lunchtime to get her hair flashed and I was left with Carol J, who was in a foul temper because ______ is reported to have worms, which she says is highly contagious. Thankfully, I am safe, and spared the ailment having gobbled down the Shih Tzu's pills. What a giggle.

Sarah thinks it unwise and deep folly that I should consider abandoning NATSOPA. My over time payments and night duty extras will suffer, and, she added, my job might be in jeopardy if redundancies are ever inflicted upon a hysterical YP work force. Those not in a trade union would be the first to face the chop. However, I want to stick to my guns and tell the whole bunch of them to piss off. It's out of character, it really is, that I should be a member of a trade union.

I got the 735 bus at 5, but it broke down and grinded to a halt outside Yeadon Town Hall, leaving me stranded. I decided to walk home down Queensway and onto Tennyson Street, and found it impossible to walk past the Lawson abode without calling on Dave L. Albert Lawson was watching Wimbledon, and Dave was out in the fields with Rowan, the Gordon Setter. He and Dave are going for a holiday to Ilfracombe, minus Audrey Lawson, still shacked up with her lover in Otley. Albert and I went out in search of David and found him in Nunroyd Park, knee deep in wet grass. The dog was rampant. He could obviously sense the Shih Tzu kidney pills. Albert drove me home.

Sue and Pete are recovering from Florence Nason's cremation. Sue wasn't too bereft.

Phoned Ally several times today. We are going out tomorrow.

Mama has installed a new TV set with remote controls. It can even pick up Tyne Tees, you know. We've had the old set since the day of the FA Cup Final in 1972, and so a change was long overdue.

We spent the night worshipping around the new gogglebox.

-=-

Tuesday July 1, 1980

_. Dominion Day, Canada

Dismal, wet. Went to work in an overcoat, very over-dressed, but wanted to avoid the soaking. Spent the day with my nervous schoolboy assistant, who shook with fear behind the filing cabinets. He is however, an intelligent lad.

I phoned Lynn at about 11. She was packed and ready for her holiday. Mum and Dad took them to Yeadon and they flew to Gerona at 2:30. Lynn, was so nervous about flying, and this coupled with the recent atrocities committed by the down-trodden Basques, hasn't helped. Mum reports that the flight left on time, but hated saying goodbye. Mum cannot say goodbye, even for the shortest period, and blames the trauma of parting with Dad when he was called up for national service. Goodbye phobia, it must have a proper name.

I phoned Ally to remind her of my tea time date with Delia and she responded by calling me a 'creep', and asked me not to choke on what morsels of food are placed before me. At 4 Sarah and I met Delia in town and went to Ivory Towers for steak pie followed by strawberries with a lemon soufflé.

Sarah devoured handfuls of vitamin tablets before dining, and Delia gave me a handful, but after swallowing them down with a glass of water we decided that the little blue ones were in fact the Shih Tzu's kidney pills. We rolled around the kitchen in hysterics. What's more, Delia's been taking the pills on a daily basis for some days, and has been having nightmares, and breathless attacks. I fully expected to start barking. Sarah, I think did actually wet herself. Sure enough, the dog's vitamins and pills were there on the same shelf as Sarah's vitamins.

Delia went to St Chad's at Headingley and we accompanied her to the pounding in the car of the Hallé Orchestra's rendition of Ravel's 'Bolero'. Delia went into the church with heaps of flowers, and Sarah and I went to a local hostelry [The Three Horseshoes?] , which took us through until 10. Delia brought me home at 11.

To bed, perhaps not barking, but growling.

-=-

Monday June 30, 1980

_. Need I say it rained again? An efficient day. Joined by a temporary worker, a schoolboy called John, who relieved me of my menial tasks.

Home like a drowned ferret at 6. Went to West End Terrace with Dad, Sue and Pete. Grandma Nason's funeral is fixed for Wednesday. It will be Susan's first. I have resolved to donate my body to a local necrophiliac group on my demise. Kidney donor cards, and such like, hold little appeal for me. To carry one must surely tempt fate. Alison doesn't believe in fate.

I phoned Ally at 2 but Derek Jenkins was in the middle of dictating a letter to her and so I left in a hurry and didn't speak to her again.

-=-

Sunday June 29, 1980

_.4th Sunday after Trinity

Dull, rain. Sue and Pete came in at 12 with the sad news that Pete's grandmother, Florence Nason, died this morning from a heart attack. She was 82, and so looking forward to the wedding. Poor Jim is heartbroken, of course.

Maria and the children came this afternoon and created pandemonium. JPH has a temper. I blame the Celtic blood. Lynn, Dave and Ally came to dinner at 8. Roast beef, Yorkshire puddings, strawberries and cream, wine. Everybody looked shattered. Catherine is still very tiny, with glassy china-blue eyes.

Lynn and Dave left at about 11 with a pile of my shirts, for the Spanish holiday. I cannot help thinking that she isn't looking forward to it. She was very subdued about the whole thing. The Basques are bombing holiday resorts, and despite what I said the other day about plane crashes never coming in pairs, a DC10 has gone down, this time in the sea off Italy.

-=-

Saturday June 28, 1980

_. Torrential rain at times. I have decided to build a new ark, just as soon as I can lay hands on some good quality teak.

Slept until nearly 12. Chippy's 22nd birthday.

Chippy phoned. He and and Dave W want to visit the tailor to be fitted for suits for Sue and Pete's wedding. I agreed to accompany them. To the White Cross, then Charles the tailor, the New Inn, then the Crown at Yeadon. We ate bits of pizza, then went to Chippy's. Played music [loud], and then returned home, pissed.

Maria drove round from Ridgeway, with a nanny, and JPH. The little lad is now very 'leggy', and wearing the same green cardigan he always wears. No sign of my brother, who is alone in Scotland.

Ally came at 8 and out we went with Sue, Pete, Chippy, Debbie and Dave W to the Square & Compass [again] - a firm favourite now. We decided to drop our first names for the night and only use the second name, and be penalised for forgetting. Dave W was Graham, Chippy was David, I was Lawrie, Pete was James, Ally was Mary, Debbie was Anne, and Sue, having no middle name, chose Claire.

On at 11 to the Prachee for a hot curry and cold water. £4 each - not bad. On to Chippy's, I mean Dave's, where we listened to music. When we mentioned to Chippy, sorry Dave, that Ally, I mean Mary, sleeps all day he responded 'Oh, she's schizophrenic'. He should know, he is a mental nurse at the local asylum.

-=-

Friday June 27, 1980

_. Atrociously wet day. At least we were spared the tennis from Wimbledon. The sporting event was disrupted and our TV screens were free of tantrum throwing US schoolgirls with pigtails and mouths full of metal braces.

I first set eyes on Auntie Delia five years ago today, and so sent her a letter. At 7pm she phoned inviting me to tea on Tuesday. One of her friends recently likened her to the late Joyce Grenfell, and I can see why.

I'm now going to mention something that's been on my mind for a few days, even weeks. Namely the thorny subject of my membership of a trade union [NATSOPA]. I joined the union about two years ago, and at the time I didn't really want to become involved but, uncharacteristically, followed my colleagues like a paraplegic sheep. On June 20 the Daily Telegraph carried an alarming article stating that NATSOPA is about to sponsor the left-wing Labour MP, Ron Leighton, to the tune of £25,000 per annum. This move was stated as being part of an initiative to pep up the political clout of the printworkers union. Obviously, I sat seething at the prospect of donating 80p a week to the Labour party. Therefor, I vowed to cease contributing to NATSOPA funds and never again to follow others like a four-legged mutton carrying animal. I have yet to be confronted by the venomous FOC [Father of the Chapel, as newspaper print union chiefs are called]. She, the FOC, happens to be a woman who terrifies all who come into contact with her. I am, however, resolved in my course of action and will stand up against the bullying leftist militants, who try and walk over humble librarians.

Home at 6. Sat with 'George the First' by Ragnhild Hatton. Watched Peter Cushing in 'The Abominable Snowman'. Bed after one.

-=-

Thursday June 26, 1980

_. Even wetter. Mum and Dad seem to be restored to a normal relationship. Mum was bubbly, and Dad quite unchanged.

YP: Anna Wallace features in the gossip columns. The Prince of Wales is showing a marked interest in the girl. Is it wedding bells in 1980? Oh, shut up.

This evening, at 7:30 I went to Bradford where Ally met me from the bus on Manningham Lane. We went to a little pub called the Black Swan, and then to the Bod, on Manchester Road. I did a fair bit of drinking there some years ago. We had a good heart to heart._______.

-=-

Wednesday June 25, 1980

_. I got a lift from Leeds at 5:30 with Dave B, and we collected Ally. We ate with Lynn and Dave at Burley. Fish in parsley sauce. Afterwards we bought port and cans of beer and went to Dave and Elaine's at Over Lane, Rawdon, where we sat listening to tales of embarrassing intimacy from Elaine. Coughing into our glasses at her complete lack of tact. She does have some endearing qualities. The Allinson's son, Stephen, told me that last week on his sixth birthday he'd been to the top of Snowdon. 'It's the highest mountain in the whole world, you know.'

Home after 2.

-=-

Tuesday June 24, 1980

_. Mum and Dad continuing to act oddly. Mum is quiet and Dad behaves as though all is happiness and fun. He's far too cheerful.

Spoke to Ally several times today.  She wanted to know the details of our visit tomorrow to Dave & Elaine's [Elaine's the endearing, yet crude girl, whose only topic of conversation is breast feeding]______.

I escaped from the YP at 4:30. Dave B came at 6:30 and with Sue and Pete we went to Pudsey and Auntie Mabel's pile to collect her ancient, yet splendid old bed. It was fastened to Dave's car. [He is the only person we know who possesses a roof rack]. We drank tea and devoured what Auntie called 'Buttered Humphreys', and left in a downpour of rain and cascade of kisses. Back to West End Terrace. Dave left to take Lynn to a bargain party and I stood until almost 11 putting brown paint onto a bedroom door.

To bed at 12 with 'George the First'.

-=-

Monday June 23, 1980

_. Catherine's first birthday. My parents carry on like Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton. Violent emotion.

Got a bus home at 6pm. I soon after retired to my room with 'George the First' by Ragnhild Hatton. Susan has spoken to Auntie Mabel and they are going over to see her tomorrow to collect a bed [a wedding present]. I went out to help Dad with the lawns, but found him at the bottom of the garden puffing on a secret cigar like a devious schoolboy.

To be at 11 with 'George the First', a good book.

-=-

Sunday June 22, 1980

_. 3rd Sunday after Trinity

Woke at 9. We giggled in bed. Ally went off to Bradford, and I rolled over and went to sleep until 11:30. Eggs, bacon and beans with Chippy and Debbie at 12. Afterwards we left Debbie studying German for her 'A' Level exam tomorrow, and joined Ken & Olive sitting outside the White Cross. I could only manage the one drink because my head throbbed hideously. We then went on to see Dave W and crept down his garden path and peered through his window and watched him, for some considerable time, struggling with a Sunday newspaper. He thinks he may be dying.

Home at 2 to see Mum and Dad, who returned from Northumberland last night. They are very quiet. I  went up to bed, but Mum followed me. I asked how the holiday had been. 'Your father hated the soddin' place', was her response. I took to my bed until 5.

Ally arrived and we went out to buy  papa some rum [for medicinal purposes] and then the two of us went to the Fox & Hounds. Saw George Waite. On to the Woolpack and then the Station on Henshaws Lane, before returning to Pine Tops at 10pm.

-=-

Saturday June 21, 1980

_. Woke up at almost mid-day. Ally went off to a shift at the Belfry. I ironed some clothes, listening to Serge Rachmaninov's 2nd piano concerto. The ironing speeded up with the third movement. Do I perhaps have the blood of a long dead Chinese laundress flowing through my veins? Whilst ironing away to the melodious banging of Maura Lympany, midst the heat and steam, I found myself inspecting a pair of Pete's Levi jeans, and puzzle for some minutes at the shortness of his legs. Is my sister soon to become the spouse of a dwarf, or perhaps a gnome? I resolve, in my labours, to settle this disturbing matter later in the evening.

To the White Cross at 8 with Sue and Peter. Sadly, Dave L had the opportunity to join us but declined. He blames a new teaching job at South Elmsall. From the Cross we went to the Square & Compass, for their splendid 'mind blowing' lager. I went with Dave W. I did enjoy the atmosphere in this pub.

Back to Chippy's in Menston at 11:30. Joined by the lovely Ally, wearing something called a 'boob tube'. Joined by Lynn, Dave, Ken and Olive. A vast lake of rosé wine was consumed. I do recall hauling Pete to the floor [with help] to take his inside leg measurement. How we howled with laughter. A fracas broke out between Dave W and Ken. The former referred to the latter as 'a ginger haired bastard'.

Ally and I escaped to Chippy's bed, but not before we had a skirmish with a violent bedside lamp.

-=-

Friday June 20, 1980

_. This morning Ally felt like death. I was generally boisterous. Neither did I suffer throughout the day, and praised the Almighty for my safe keeping.

Out at 12 with Sarah to Len's Bar. Huddled together in the gloom on a Chesterfield sofa. I arrived home at 6 raring to go, but Sue & Pete plead poverty, and so we decided to stay in. Something is wrong with the telly. Everything and everyone looks a vile shade of green. Kenneth Kendall, reading the news, looked like a Martian. I lay on the sofa, and slipped into a coma, with an Agatha Christie novel covering my Adonis features.

-=-

Thursday June 19, 1980

_. Mama and Papa were joined together in Holy matrimony upon this day 26 years ago, and are now celebrating in the peace and damp of Northumberland.

Pete came up at 8 and took Sue and Janet Simon off to the Drop before disappearing with Chippy for the Thursday 'ale fest'. Ally and I went to the New Inn, and Sue and Janet joined us, walking down from the Drop. They arrived with cans of beer purchased to consume en route, even though the New Inn is only about 200 yards from the Hanson pile. Later, Pete and Chippy fell in the doors, making the band of boozers complete. Ally was persuaded to drink gin and dry Martini mixed. Chris Blades, his eyes bulging, and Geoff Hanson, were drawn to Susan's side, like flies around a jam pot. Sue was wearing particularly tight jeans and revealing t-shirt. The scene was reminiscent of debauched, Restoration England. All that was missing was the oranges and full-bottom wigs.

Back at home we managed to spill two cups of black coffee into the bed. The cocktails took hold of Ally, and she had a restless night. We lay watching the clouds dash by above.

-=-

Wednesday June 18, 1980

_. Ally came here at 5:30 clad in her work togs in readiness for another onslaught on the decor at West End Terrace. It was pointless really because I could see little to do tonight, but we put in an appearance all the same.  If Ally isn't working flat out like an Egyptian slave on the pyramids, she's miserable. David B arrived [Lynn-less] and plastered something in the kitchen. I stood around like a pork pie at a Jewish wedding. We made our farewells at about 9.

We went back to watch TV. A Shaun Cassidy film about a retarded couple and their endeavour to be married.

Poppet stayed the night. Chippy phoned late on to confirm his party is definitely on for Saturday. Unfortunately, Ally is working, but says she'll come to Gerald's later on. Debbie's influence has transformed Chippy in recent months. He's quite normal these days.

-=-

Tuesday June 17, 1980

_. Mixed weather. Wet, but dry.

En route to Leeds Jennie kept hinting that tomorrow is her birthday, and so I am compelled to purchase a birthday card.

Kathleen continues to be nauseating. She flapped around waving the wads of paper [Honours List], and was generally hideous for the whole day.

Sarah left at lunchtime 'to get pissed' [her phrase] at Len's Bar with a man called Trevor. Returning from lunch I found them holding hands on Wellington Street. She requires a husband, and quickly. She has to marry, or at least leave home, within the next two years, because her father, a big noise in the Post Office, is due to retire and return to living at Ivory Towers. His presence will be intolerable. Delia says that she might have to find night work, of a dubious nature, just to escape his clutches.

Home at 6. Susan has 'blobbed' [to quote Peter] and had not been to work, and had concocted a delightful dinner for Peter and I. By coincidence Lynn phoned at 6 and said that she too had taken the day off, for some minor ailment.

Ally had a shift at the Belfry. Mum and Dad phoned from Rothbury. I joined Sue, Pete, Jim N, Lynn and Dave at West End Terrace, where I continued painting. Enjoying the feel of the brush and the whiff of emulsion paint I battled on until 11:15.

At home Sue and Pete were in bed within minutes. I watched the highlights of the first day of Royal Ascot on the BBC. Queen Mother fever is really taking hold now. She was cheered and applauded marvellously. No other Queen in our history has been more loved by the people. HM's 80th birthday celebrations next month really should be commemorated by a Bank Holiday.

Grand Duke Jean of Luxembourg is visiting the Queen at Windsor. Once again stories of an engagement between his daughter, Marie-Astrid, and the Prince of Wales, make the gutter press. No chance. Absolutely no chance whatsoever. I will put my shirt on it.

-=-

Monday June 16, 1980

_. Thunder and lightning. Breakfast with Ally, Sue and Pete. We all left on our separate ways by 8am. Jim R watched Ally blasting off up the lane and was grinning broadly as he stopped to pick me up. He suspects the worst. Little Jennie has hurt her hand whilst prancing around doing gymnastics.

Spent the day brooding over the Queen's Birthday Honours list and updating the files. No spectacular appointments. I wait every year for the re-introduction of hereditary peerages, but they never come.

Home at 5. Ally arrived at 5:30 and we went to West End Terrace. I painted the sitting room ceiling and felt satisfied with the result. It's no Sistine Chapel, but perfectly suitable for a Guiseley terrace house.

Back to Pine Tops at 9:30. We had fish and chips [again], and watched a James Coburn film. Ally stayed over. To bed at 11:30.

-=-

Sunday June 15, 1980

_. 2nd Sunday after Trinity

Brighter. Up at 10:30. Ally went late to the Belfry and Sue and Pete joined me for breakfast and then went to West End Terrace. In a domesticated fashion I did the washing up listening to a booming 'Saturday Night Fever' album, courtesy of the Bee Gees.

Mum and Dad phoned from Rothbury, near Morpeth. It is Father's Day and he thanked me for the card, in which I had inserted £3. The weather isn't too bad up there, and they are walking out this afternoon in search of a hospitable alehouse. 

I watched a revolting Tony Curtis film, 'The Black Shield of Falworth'. A nauseating historical drama. 

Sue and Pete returned at 4, and Ally rolled in shortly afterwards. We all dined together and watched TV until midnight. Peter insisted we watch England v. Italy in the European Cup. A fiasco, and obviously we lost. Ally was cuddled up next to me reading 'Busman's Honeymoon'. I took up 'N or M' by Agatha Christie, and it was in this position that we both fell to sleep, our books sliding to the carpet. Susan put it down to age. Ally remained the night. Bed 12:10am.

-=-

Saturday June 14, 1980

_. Dave L is 25 today. Ally arrived at 10:30 with a copy of the Times. Mum and Dad left at 11 for a week in Northumberland, disappearing down the lane in a deluge. I sat and watched the Trooping of the Colour. A remarkable spectacle.

At 12 Chippy arrived with Dave W and Ally, Sue [with newly permed hair] and I went with them to the Shoulder. Joined by Pete. On at 2:30 to the White Cross. I'm financially embarrassed and Dave W came to my rescue and gave me the loan of £5. Ally is working at the Belfry and so I agreed to go with Chippy, Debbie and Dave W to the Square and Compass, near Huby, or wherever. Ally went off at 6 but came back at 8 saying her services at the Belfry were not required. Lynn phoned and we arranged to see them at the Square and Compass too. It was a pleasant night. Lynn and Chippy don't usually see eye to eye. Ally looking lovely, like a stick of Blackpool rock, in a new striped dress. All back to Pine Tops at 11:30 for wine and coffee. Chippy & Co went to Bradford for a curry, and Ally and I sat with Lynn and Dave B for a few hours.

-=-

Friday June 13, 1980

_. Friday the Thirteenth. Wet, dismal. Muggy in fact. The YP was dismal and at 5 I slouched out into the daylight with a sickly headache, feeling decidedly clammy.

Spoke to Ally today. She reads me items from last week's Sunday Mirror including a story stating that Lady Amanda Knatchbull has returned from a holiday where she's been contemplating her future. Utter rubbish, I'm sure. I have almost given up with speculating about the Prince of Wales's marital prospects. I am considering switching my attention to Prince Andrew's future bride.

Mum and Dad went off to Joe and Anne Grunwell's silver wedding party and I took to my bed for a couple of hours. Got up at 8 with a clear head.

Watched a dreadful film starring Peter Wyngard. He brought to mind a story Dave L relates about his time in Gloucester, and where the public conveniences there were made famous after the fiendish actor was nabbed in the lavatories whilst soliciting the favours of naughty men.

Spoke to Uncle Tony on the blower. He wanted the address of Charles the tailor, in Menston, where the Pudsey contingent are hiring morning suits for Sue and Pete's wedding.

To bed at 1am. Mum and Dad didn't get back until after 5am.

-=-

Thursday June 12, 1980

_. Foul and wet. Arrived at the YP at 8:50 to a bombardment of heavy artillery from Kathleen. She blew her top at my constant lateness. I told her I would in future work 9-5, instead of 8:45-4:20. I cannot grumble really because I've got away with it for over 3 years.

Ally came at 8:30 and we went to [1] the New Inn and [2] the White Cross. Talked about Ibiza.  We were spotted by Philip Knowles, but escaped. At the Cross we also bumped into Martyn Cole, smoother than ever, in a tweed jacket, with his girlfriend.

Home at 11 to join the 'Jim and Margaret' evening. We drank some mead, from Holy Island. By 2am I was slightly pissed.

-=-

Wednesday June 11, 1980

_. Rain, yet again. Ally came over for tea at 5:30 and afterwards we joined Sue, Pete, Lynn and Dave at West End Terrace. Lynn is far from enthusiastic about her forthcoming holiday in Spain, which is odd. She normally skips around with excitement like a child for weeks beforehand. She says the thought of flying upsets her. The recent plane crash in Tenerife is at the forefront of her mind. I reassured her. We seldom have two very large plane crashes close together.

Downed paint brushes at about 10 and returned to the sanity of Pine Tops. Ally borrows more books from my personal library. 'Busman's Honeymoon' by Dorothy L. Sayers, and 'My Queen and I', by William Hamilton, MP. She left for home at about 11.

The Queen's Birthday Honours list has started to infiltrate the YP. Geoffrey Boycott, an obscure local cricketer, is to be OBE, and Dad's friend, Ronald Gregory, the Chief Constable of West Yorkshire, CBE. Other names on the list include Robin Cousins, Caroline Bradley, Kevin Keegan, John Williams [the guitarist], Frank Muir and Denis Norden, Roland Calver, Angus Wilson, &c. It's going to be more of an honour NOT to be included before very long. Jim Rawnsley was saying he'd like the Victoria Cross. I'd prefer a dukedom.

-=-

Tuesday June 10, 1980

_. Dismal day. Kathleen is set to join the band of 'in-betweenies' led by Woy Jenkins. That is if he ever returns from Europe. Laughable, it really is. Mind you, the Labour party has gone too far, hasn't it? James Callaghan is desperate to join Woy Jenkins too, but finds his present position something of a conflict.

Ally phoned at lunch expressing feelings of boredom and lethargy. The AHA does not work her hard enough.

The Daily Express tells us that the Prince of Wales has almost proposed marriage to Anna Wallace. Poppycock, I'm sure. The Daily Mail says that Edwina Hicks is out of the 'royal marriage stakes' and is walking out with one Jeremy Brudenell. She was never in the running in the first place. Lady Joanna Knatchbull is 'out' too.

Dave L phoned tonight. Our conversations are becoming more and more brief. I don't think either of us enjoy telephone calls. Sue sent him an invitation to the disco after her wedding. He told me is to spend his birthday with MM and Marita in Scarborough.

To West End Terrace tonight.

-=-

Monday June 9, 1980

_. Much rain. Back to the office. Met Lynne Bateson in the lift, she confirmed what I was thinking: 'You look miserable'.

Sat hacking at the newspapers, thinking of Ally. ___________.

Sarah has been distraught with worry because her Shih Tzu has had an op for stones in her kidneys which has cost over £100. Insanity.

Home at 5, and out at 6:30 to West End Terrace for an evening with a damp paint brush. Joined by Ally. We had fish and chips at almost 11 back at Pine Tops, and went to bed at 12, still dotted in white paint.

The news: have you heard that the dweadful Woy Jenkins is form yet another abominable political party? Everyone [i.e. the Press] seem to be excited at the prospect, but I cannot help yawning.

Reading David Sinclair's 'Queen and Country' a biography of the Queen Mother, loaned to me by Derek Naylor.

Sunday June 8, 1980

_. 1st Sunday after Trinity

Felt better tolday, but slightly wobbly. At 12 we went to the Ship Inn at Bishop's Sutton. Joined by Graham, Gill, Andrew, Richard, good Eileen, Philip Middlebrough and his blond wife, Carol [nee Rodger] &c. Richard was twinkling with glee at my downfall. He too has experienced a drunken splash in the Itchen. It's one of Graham's party pieces evidently.  Ally had whitebait, but I had no appetite. In fact I was quite miserable, and Ally kept digging me in the ribs. Back to Chillandham Cross for coffee, and then the London people disappeared. We ate dinner on a massive new dining table. The wine affects Bessie with remarkable speed. She giggles and chatters more readily.

We messed around foolishly until about 9 o'clock. We should have left earlier but a final drink at the Plough set us back somewhat. Ally played under her car bonnet with a can of oil.  Home to Guiseley at almost 2am. We squabbled about whether we should go to Lidget Green or Guiseley, and I won.

-=-

Saturday June 7, 1980

_. Still wet from the river, we climbed into Neil's car and went off to Southampton, supposedly for a fried breakfast. I proceeded to vomit in various places in the town, and the lads went into a transport cafe. I slept on the way back to Martyr Worthy and went to bed. Vomit here too. Ally kept bringing me refreshments. Bessie took it very well, and laughed at the way I kept apologising for my disgraceful behaviour. She was a nurse in the way years, of course.

We were supposed to be going up to London. Graham, Gill and Neil went to Trader Vic's bar at the London Hilton, then on to Richard and Eileen's party. [Graham spent £8.80 on three drinks]. Ally didn't leave me, and stayed at home in front of the TV. Bessie brought me hot soup at 7:30 and I was sleeping by 9. So angry at missing a party. I am relieved that Frank wasn't here to experience my alcoholic frolic.

-=-

Friday June 6, 1980

_.To Windsor this morning. Dear Windsor has such memories for me of Uncle John and Sheila, brother John, Denise and the Bier Keller, &c. Swamped in nostalgia.  We inspected the castle and St George's Chapel. The state apartments were closed owing to the imminent arrival of Her Majesty for Royal Ascot week. An amusing incident in St George's Chapel. A group of Americans gathered around the effigies on the tomb of King George V and Queen Mary were wondering why the 20th century monarch was lying so close in proximity to Mary, Queen of Scots! I could not contain myself. I could not stand by and allow the debate to continue and so I explained to the party that THIS Queen Mary was the wife of King George V, and that they were the grandparents of the Queen. 'Oh, I thought they were just shacking up together', exclaimed a southern belle.

We saw a plaque on Lord Mountbatten's Garter stall, dedicated last December. His banner was, of course, removed on the day of his assassination.

To the Star and Garter for lunch. Ate a T-bone steak. We sat beaming at each other. A lovely day. The whole week has been a great success.

To Chandler's Ford to see Frank at 7:30, and then to the Otter, and the Plough, which was deserted. Joined by Graham and Gill, drinking Carlsberg Special. Neil, the barman, is a one man riot. We all became exceedingly intoxicated. Back to Chillandham Cross to smoke, drink vodka, and play pontoon. Ally disappeared to bed leaving Graham, Gill, Andrew, Neil and I gambling at 2p per stake. At some late hour, close to dawn, Graham suggested we go for a dip in the river Itchen and without further ado we stripped and walked across a couple of fields to an easily accessible spot on the river bank. A mist hung over the river like a shroud. I was first in, almost swimming over a weir. After a lengthy splash around I crawled onto a bank, shaking with cold, and cramp. The Carlsberg Specials had frozen solid in my stomach. We made our way back to Chillandham Cross.

-=-

Thursday June 5, 1980

_. Hoy again. Ally and I went to Brighton in the afternoon. My first visit to this peculiar resort. We inspected the Royal Pavilion - a remarkable building. We sat on the pebbles eating cheese burgers and chips, ice cream, and cockles and mussels. Nude bathers are allowed on the beach but we saw nothing naughty. It must be quite a painful experience rolling around stark bollock naked in the shingle beneath the pier.

Home at 7 with the intention of visiting Frank, but Bessie says he's far too miserable and has requested that we stay away. I took a leisurely bath.

Out to a few pubs in Winchester and then on to the Berni Inn where Ally and John Pinder's ill-fated loved flourished. As we were leaving the restaurant we bumped into Stan the milkman and his nauseating wife. They were friends when she was with John. We were carried off to a tiny house for coffee. It was obvious that we were taken back to be questioned for information to pass on to Pinder, with whom they are still friends. Pinder is living with Mrs S, and Mr S has taken off with the tart from the newsagent's shop. All very sordid. Home after one.

-=-

Wednesday June 4, 1980

_. Extremely hot. Frank Dixon's operation was a success but only one [kidney] stone was removed. It's Bessie Dixon's 58th birthday. We sat in the garden drinking lager. Ally stormed around like an enraged puma, into the house to avoid the heat, and then out again. I sat in a deckchair beneath a tree observing the dramatic scene with amusement. Bessie told me, in strictest confidence that 'Alison is so like Frank's mother'. She said it with a face full of fear.

Swilling lager reading a women's magazine and an article on the 'idyllic' marriage of the hideous Dai Llewellyn and Vanessa Hubbard.

After a ham salad we went to Winchester. Ally spent her birthday money on oddments for Ash Tree Cottage [alias, 5, Club St]. The shops were the last place I wanted to be. We are so much happier when we have money.

Tonight we went to meet Graham and Gill at the Otter at Otterbourne. Back at 10:30 to the Plough at Itchen Abbas. Midge told Ally that her perm makes her face look 'softer'. I could tell from the moment we walked in that she was thinking of something suitably bitchy to say.

-=-

Tuesday June 3, 1980

_. Hot day. Ally collected me at 5 in a heavily laden car and we headed down the M1 to Northamptonshire. By 7:30 we were in Towcester and in a pub called the Something Old Oak [Brave Old Oak?]. The service was appalling. The bar staff consisted of one long haired paraplegic with a club foot, and he couldn't add up. Our scampi and chips were late and disappointing.

We arrived at Martyr Worthy at about midnight. Frank Dixon is hospitalised some miles away at Chandler's Ford, awaiting for an op for the removal of a kidney stone. We sat with chocolate cake and coffee. I was put in a bedroom with Andrew and we lay awake talking about his activities. Ally, in the next room, could hear us and expressed amazement at the way I can converse with her 'impossible' brother.

-=-

Monday June 2, 1980

_. Out with Ally to [1] the Cow & Calf, [2] the New Inn, and [3] the Drop. Home at 10, I packed up some belongings and piled them into the Spitfire in readiness for our departure for Martyr Worthy tomorrow.

-=-

Sunday June 1, 1980

_. Trinity Sunday

Dave G is worried about the Ibiza holiday and the fact that women are in the party. I have the impression that he thinks this will spoil things. He only ever sees Ally when she is crazy and giving one of her fine 'Mrs Rochester' performances.

At 9:30am Dave G and I took off for Leeds to join the party from the EP making their annual 'father's day' excursion to Blackpool. This party also includes females for the first time, and notable in this field are Sarah, Lynne Bateson, Penny Wark, and Nicola Gould. It was a hot day at the seaside. We lost Sarah and Lynne on our way to the fairground, and Dave and I were with Ken Yeadon and Dave Pitts for the day. I took a dip in the sea, and gashed my leg on a rock, and told everyone I'd been the victim of a shark attack. The bus took us on to Skipton, as tradition dictates, to the Albion at 7:30 and we supped until 10:30 there. Sat with Penny and Paul. We had fun time with a pair of magnetic frogs. We sang ourselves hoarse coming home.

-=-

Saturday May 31, 1980

_. Very wet day. Went with Dave G, Sue and Pete to daub paint on the master bedroom at 23, West End Terrace. We were joined by Chippy and Dave W, and very soon after we escaped to the White Cross for a 'lunch break'. Ally, Sue, Lynn and Dave B didn't appreciate this dereliction of duty. In fact Ally arrived just as we were exiting the house and I greeted her with a 'we're off to the pub'. Back at the house we painted until 6.

Out later to the White Cross and New Inn with Ally, Dave G, Sue, Pete, Dave W and Chippy. Back to Pine Tops at 11:30.

-=-

Friday May 30, 1980

_. A healthy day considering we had the usual disgusting Thursday night. Hot day. Met Dave G from his train at 5:10pm and we walked across town to the Eagle on North St to be the first on the scene for Paul Vallely's farewell party. We crossed the threshold at 5:30 and remained until almost eleven in an assorted company ranging from the sweet Penny Wark to the mercenary, and tarty _______, fresh from a the Halifax Gossip or whatever, and a sordid affair with the exiled Lord Kagan. Spent some time chatting about the village of Dent with Geoff Winter, who was in the company of his common-law niece, Sue Tirpitz. Such a pleasant, drunken night. Onward to Paul's house at 11 with Dave, Penny and her boyfriend Paul, from Southampton. It was good to see Steve Sharp again. We stayed until one and we got a lift to Guiseley with the kindly John MacMurray [the best man Sarah Collis found and gave up]. He gave me a copy of Nasty Media's 'Spiked Copy'.

-=-

Thursday May 29, 1980

_. Oak Apple Day

Sitting at my desk this morning my thoughts turned to Charles the Second on this, his 350th birthday. Sad that I found no sprig of oak to adorn my person on this occasion. He [Charles] hid in the boughs of an oak on this day in 1651 following his defeat at the Battle of Worcester. Until the mid Victorian period 'Oak Apple Day' was a day of celebration, but it's now largely forgotten.

To Ally's for steak this evening. She met me at 4:30 in Leeds [she'd been in town buying a birthday present for Catherine]. We went on to Rue Club via Pine Tops allowing me to gather a few personal effects to carry on to Bradford. After dinner we went to Oakwood Hall. A dull night really. The bar staff were serving dry Martini in a one sixth of a gill measure instead of the proper one third of a gill measure, and to make matters worse a fight broke out between a guy who looked like one of the Bee Gees and a skinhead type, and all because of a misplaced ice-cube. Home to Rue Club at 2:30. Bed. Lemonade.

-=-

Wednesday May 28, 1980

_. Derek Naylor thinks that perhaps the Queen Mother is a bastard. I must have mellowed with the passing years because in times gone by I would have called Naylor out to fight a duel, or reeled in nausea. But Derek makes his comments in such a way that one cannot help but smile.

Ally is unwell. Her stomach is at fault. She slept through two hours of constant bombardment from me on the phone. She came over to ours at 5 to dine with Mama and Papa. No sooner had she eaten that she felt ill, again, and took to a bed in Sue's room for a couple of hours, leaving me with the journals of William Bagshaw Stevens.

Watched a Swedish epic [with sub-titles] on BBC2, and retired to bed with Stevens.

-=-

Tuesday May 27, 1980

_. A batch of photographs arrived this morning. Met Ally in the Central at 1:45. No Kathleen or Sarah today. Delia is judging at the Wetherby Show, or something.

Prince Andrew has arrived at RAF Leeming near York for five months training. He is a midshipman learning to fly. Is it something royal princes should be doing? Remember William of Gloucester.

A royal mystery. It appears that the Earl of Strathmore, father of the Queen Mother, lied, for some inexplicable reason, when registering the birth of his daughter, in September, 1900. It is recorded on her birth certificate that Elizabeth Bowes Lyon was born at St Paul's Walden, Hertfordshire. This has been HM's acknowledged place of birth in all works of reference since. Her Majesty has even unveiled a plaque commemorating her birth at the church there. Now Clarence House has announced that in fact HM was born in London, at an undisclosed address. All the more intriguing because they don't reveal exactly where. They probably have no idea. Was the dear lady, the greatest Queen Consort this nation has ever known, perhaps born above a Chinese laundry in Wapping?

-=-

Monday May 26, 1980

_.Carole P is three months pregnant by Mick L. She is in poor health, and I am told that she and Mick are unwilling to enter into Holy Matrimony and are happy to let things go on as they are. She was in the White Cross on Friday. Poor Carole.

Rang Glynnie to give him the news about his Ibiza holiday bill. He wasn't expecting £269. Neither were we.

With Ally to West End Terrace for a couple of hours. Saw Pete's grandmother, old Mrs Nason, who is well over 80. She's a sweet old thing with a great wit and sense of humour.

To the YP at 5pm. Home by taxi at midnight. My driver pulled heavily on his pipe. Sat choking in fumes from the old shag, or ready rubbed, or whatever.

-=-

Sunday May 25, 1980

_. Whit Sunday

We set off for Dumfries which we reached at about 6am, very low on fuel. On to Castle Douglas where we ran out of petrol and we sat until 9:30 waiting for a garage to open. John was very calm about this in the way he is always calm about everything, and he showed us the early morning sights of Castle Douglas, a God forsaken Scottish hamlet.

We couldn't sit in the van for any length of time because Jimmy's bowels 'were playing up' and the wind blew with gusto, the sound of which must have disturbed the sleepy community from its slumbers. Re-fuelled and supplied with eggs, bacon and milk we headed for Lochans in pouring rain arriving at Lochans at 10:30am. With the piano and bath unloaded we made for the pub, but not before John had run around on a wet football pitch. He plays for the Lochans team.

The cottage is a masterpiece. His fireplace is breath taking. We set off in an homeward direction at 1:30, calling at Glenluce, Newton Stewart, Dumfries and Annan. John was feeling decidedly rough. Jimmy insisted on eating mutton pies and we drank greasy, milky tea in a cafe. At Dumfries we slept in the van and became a peep show for the amusement of Scottish trippers. John made a recovery, and we journeyed on. The 24 hour adventure had been gruelling, but amusing. The fuel was low [again] and we reached Skipton and then onto Burley intact. We had a drink at the Malt Shovel and then went to Ridgeway to see Maria and Karim. We had beef burgers and beans and then I returned to Pine Tops.

-=-

Saturday May 24, 1980

_. John walked in at 9:30am with JPH and Catherine. My brother is shaggy and bearded looking more Scottish than James Robertson Justice [was he a Scot?] or maybe Robert the Bruce. The children were hot, red and ill. John, fatter, disappeared in the direction of town with Maria and returned later in the afternoon with a van for the forthcoming piano and bathroom suite expedition. I asked to accompany him to Lochans and he beamed. Jimmy is joining us too.

Ally came over and we went to West End Terrace for the duration. She was very sweet about me leaving her tonight. Blimey, when did John and I last have an adventure together? Collected a cooker for Sue and Pete and then went to Ridgeway. Said goodbye to Ally at the Shoulder of Mutton and then John, Jimmy and I left for Stranraer. We made the error of stopping in Ilkley 'for a drink' and subsequently John was exhausted and only just managed to make it over the border without collapsing at the wheel. We had tea and sandwiches in a dreadful border cafe followed by a unanimous decision that we park up for a few hours because while chatting with Jimmy about UFOs and Christopher Marlowe I took a glance at John and was horror-struck to see he, the driver, with his eyes closed at the steering wheel. Sitting in a lay by I drifted off to sleep listening to Jimmy droning on and on expounding his belief that Shakespeare never actually existed. After a couple of hours we set off again for Stranraer.

-=-

Friday May 23, 1980

_. Delia phoned me this morning to chastise me for my debauched behaviour in recent times. She says, and quite rightly, that I am overdoing things. She also confided in me that Sarah returns home from work these days saying she finds nothing to speak to me about any more and that I am impossible. How peculiar. The tales of Bill North are vomit provoking.

At 6pm Sue and Pete took possession of 23, West End Terrace, Guiseley, and within minutes a gathering of clan occurred with champagne [courtesy of Mama], to commemorate the historic acquisition. Looking around the property I felt panic at the sight of the scruffy decor, cringing at the prospect of been called upon to assist with renovations. Lynn, Dave, Sue, Pete and I adjourned to the White Cross. Joined by Chippy and Debbie.

-=-

Thursday May 22, 1980

_. Felt ghastly all day and incapable of work. Sarah gave we woeful looks as I sat quivering and heaving like a cholera victim, or the Rt Rev William Gordon Fallows, Bishop of Sheffield [deceased], a Parkinson's sufferer. Fortunately Kathleen left at 12 thereby enabling me to do sweet sod all in the afternoon.

To Club Street at 5 for a hurried dinner with Ally and then it was back to Leeds to the Lounge Cinema at Headingley for 'Heaven Can Wait', a Warren Beatty film, and 'Smokey and the Bandit', starring Burt Reynolds. I'd seen the first film before, with Jacq, and Ally was surprised I wanted to see it again 'not a Michael film at all' was her verdict. I do have a soft spot for Dyan Cannon, and do have a small amount of romance in me.

Back to Pine Tops at 11 for drinks with Jim and Margaret. I slept extremely well.  Nisi quando Podagra molesta est.

-=-

Wednesday May 21, 1980

_> Ally is 22 today. Dry day. We met at 12 and partook in alcoholic beverages at [1] The Ostlers, [2] Russell's Bar, and [3] Jacomelli's, Boar Lane. Afterwards she went skipping into a shop and bought two dresses. Walking hand in hand through town we bumped into Sarah.

We went back to Club Street with a couple of singles, gifts from me. 'Stomp' by the Brothers Johnson, and 'Funky Town' by Lipps Inc, the twelve inch disco single. She bathed. We went to Guiseley, where I did a quick change, and then on we went to Lynn & Dave's [with Sue & Pete] for chicken. Afterwards to the Queen's [Lynn's favourite Burley pub]. Ally and I went to Oakwood, just the two of us, from 10:30 to 1:45.

Back and Pine Tops we ate fish cakes in my bed.

-=-

Tuesday May 20, 1980

_. Rain. To work in an overcoat. How utterly miserable. Jim says that Patrick ventured out for the very first time on his own, yesterday. [Well, except for the time last week when he walked into Guiseley to collect a prescription for Muriel's bowel ailment]. The lad went with a few friends to Cambridge where he had 'an experience' in a punt and missed the last train home.

King Henry VIII married Jane Seymour upon this day in 1536. Was she his favourite Queen? I think so. I rang my favourite future queen at the Bradford AHA and engaged in a complex and confused conversation centred upon the trivialities of this world that I've generally allowed to pass me by. Tomorrow is her birthday. Bless her, she'll be 22. We are spending the afternoon in Leeds and going on to Lynn and Dave's for dinner. What time was she born? Her mother cannot remember and so this vital item of information is lost forever. Astrologically, it's a terrible omission.

At lunchtime I went into the Central library and took out a volume of diaries of the Rev William Bagshaw Stevens, who kept a journal from 1792 until his death  in 1800 at the age of 45. I do hope one day that someone somewhere will have the good sense to set my journal down in print. I'm not writing crouched uncomfortably on my bedroom floor for the good of my health, you know. Mind you, I hold, and never shall hold, a government post, or be headmaster of Repton, but surely someone will derive pleasure from my illiterate, abusive ramblings? Tonight I sat reading the clergyman's journal which is crammed with Latin and Greek quotes, and little else. Some entries are so brief, they're worthless. I feel quite proud of myself turning out page after page of action-packed riveting script. Goodnight. Magno cum conatu magnas nugas dicit. Caw! Caw! Caw!.

-=-

Monday May 19, 1980

_. Royal news: The Queen's cousin, the Hon Elizabeth Elphinstone, has died aged 68. Something of a recluse she lived for some years on a commune. The Queen, not plunged into family mourning, today visited the Chelsea Flower Show.

In other royal news, the Lord Mayor of York is to petition the Queen to create Prince Andrew Duke of York. I have every faith the the Queen will one day bestow this much loved peerage on her second son, and doesn't need to be reminded of this by some upstart of a Lord Mayor. King George VI held the title for 16 years, and it 'merged in the crown' on the abdication of King Edward VIII in 1936.

The Times today says that the Queen will invite the Pope to make a visit to the UK when she visits him in Rome in October. Hard to believe, isn't it? For centuries we officially boycotted all things papist. Talk of the Prince of Wales marrying a Roman Catholic will be re-kindled, no doubt.

Charles's old flame, Lady Sarah Spencer, married Neil McCorquodale on Saturday. That's another name to cross off the list. The girl has red hair and that, as far as I'm concerned, is far more objectionable than any religious differences. Given the choice of the next Princess of Wales being RC or a red head, and I'll go for the former any day.

A film on the telly. A Burt Lancaster western in which Audrey Hepburn plays a Red Indian squaw rather badly. And so to bed, at midnight.

-=-

Sunday May 18, 1980

_. Sunday after Ascension

Woke up at 8am to swig lemonade. The sleeping arrangements were fun. Ally and I in one single bed, Sue and Pete in the other single bed, Jill and Tim in the double bed, and four more, Karen, Steve, Phil and Denise underneath the piano. We all surfaced at 10 for tea and toast and a photographic session in the garden. Ally went off to work at the Belfry at 10:30, and we tidied things and returned home.

I had poached eggs then took the garden in my shorts where I hung in a deckchair until evening. Marlene, Frank and the children appeared at tea time with the intention of showing us his cine film of Lynn & Dave's wedding, but a bulb exploded in his projector and the plan was thwarted.

Ally arrived at 3:30 in a blue spotty dress. She was far from disappointed at the lack of a film show. She has a peculiar phobia about anything celluloid. Capturing Ally on film is as rare as a shot of an osprey nesting or of Margaret Thatcher picking her nose. The Harwoods went off at 8 towing their caravan behind them, and were replaced by Hilda and Tony. By 11 I could stand no more and took to my bed.

World news from the Sunday papers: President Giscard D'Estaing and Leonid Brezhnev are meeting in Warsaw to discuss Afghanistan and other international affairs. No doubt the Russian leader has taken along his usual squad of randy air hostesses - he has a passion for them according to a recent report.

-=-

Saturday May 17, 1980

_. Steve Sanderson is 22 today. Up at 10 and straight to Ally's for 11:30. She was scantily clad, and cleaning the house for tonight's 'gala'. I spent over two hours taping a heap of my records and at 1:30 we drove to Halifax, of all places, for a quick drink. We found a pub full of drunks and I found myself standing at the bar next to a little old man propped up farting and belching at a phenomenal rate. Ally was amazed that she now lives so close to Halifax. She kept repeating the name over and over again, almost under her breath, as though she'd just stumbled upon Naples.

At 5:15 we drove to Headingley and the delights of Salvo's. Joined by Sue, Pete, Chippy, Dave W, Frank, Mick Hodgson, Tony Smith, Gus, we queued outside until 7. We ate too much, and sat in the car groaning. We drank half a litre of wine each and made one Hell of a racket. The bill came to £48. Oh dear. On to Mucky Willie's in Lidget Green where we were met by Dave L, Karen, Steve, Jill, Tim, Phil, Denise, Jacq, Paul, Catherine [from the AHA], & her boyfriend, Dave. I felt very uncomfortable after all that food. Dave L suggested I drink something with peppermint. This did help. A party at Club St afterwards. Lynn and Dave came at midnight. I told Dave I'd paid Lynn £15 for her attendance, and he believed me. Everyone danced.

-=-

Friday May 16, 1980

_. Hot and sunny. Dave L phoned tonight. He cannot make Salvo's tomorrow but says yes to the party afterwards.

A significant event at the YP. Eileen's departure. I showed her to the revolving door and waved her goodbye. Standing in the sunshine the tears soon dried  on my pale, haggard face as I watched her, broken with emotion, disappear onto a bus bound for Dewsbury and the obscurity of motherhood. Sarah had avoided the office today. She hates goodbyes.

Steak and salad for tea, interrupted by the arrival of my Harwood cousins. Mark is now almost 13. Frank says he is going down to the Shoulder tonight with some fellow male campers [they are spending a few days in a caravan in a farmyard in Hawksworth]. Sue and Pete decided to accompany them, but I declined.

-=-

Thursday May 15, 1980

_. Ascension Day

Out at lunchtime for a couple of hours with Eileen and the library girls in commemoration of the termination of her employment. As usual, and in keeping with YP library 'outings' it was a flop. Little merriment was had and we walked back to the YP after 2 hours. Sharon will send a fresh breeze through the cutting files.

Phoned Peter tonight and he picked me up at 8. We collected Gus, Frank and Dave W. To the Shoulder. Something of a booze up. Dave looked like a lobster, from sun burn, and was in agony. We had to drop him off at home on the way to Oakwood. A girl called Julie came onto me: 'Ooh, you don't look 25', she pouted. I bought her a Britvic orange and we stood giggling in the bar. Home long after 2.

-=-

Wednesday May 14, 1980

_. The 'Day of Action' by the TUC. No comment.

A night out with Ally to the Fox and Hounds, the New Inn and Oakwood Hall. We had fish and chips and Ally admitted it was her first hot meal since last Thursday. She starves herself.

At Oakwood we were horrified to discover that the place is for sale. The closing of yet another poignant chapter. Another curtain running down on the great pageant of life. We didn't get round to dancing, but rarely do. We left early [1:30am] because I had an attack of tenacious mucus. But, as far as Wednesdays go, it was a good night. Ally drove back to Pine Tops like Davina Galica, and hiccoughed all the way.

-=-

Tuesday May 13, 1980

_. Hot, again. Susie and Pete went off to see a solicitor and signed for the house on West End Terrace. Peter returned and sat brooding in an armchair watching Mr Attenborough's 'Life On Earth' - yet again. I suppose one is allowed to 'brood' when one has signed away ones life for the next quarter of a century or so. The sight of a puma mauling a couple of zebras to death did nothing to lighten the mood.

Mum and Dad went to see Lynn and Dave and returned at about 10.

Tomorrow is Len Murray's 'Day of Action' in protest against Margaret Hilda's administration. Meanwhile, the General Secretary of the TUC is lounging in a Madeira bar, smoking his duty frees, and reading all about Britain grinding to a halt in a three day old copy of the Daily Express. For me, and the majority of the nation, it's business as usual.

-=-

Monday May 12, 1980

_. Very hot. Back to work. Went to my dentist. Whatever happened to Hough? He disappeared without a trace. My teeth are Ok until November 10. My appointment was at 5 and Lynn met me ten minutes later and she drove me home.

TV: 'Not the Nine O'clock News' followed by 'Catch 22', a nauseating film.
-=-

Sunday May 11, 1980

_. Rogation Sunday

What does Rogation Sunday actually mean? Not long ago I would have been sufficiently knowledgeable in the religious bracket to have been able to make an education guess, but not now.

Out of bed feeling delicate, but so too is everyone else. I sat watching the telly. A film starring Sylvia Syms, John Mills and Anthony Quayle [Ice Cold in Alex] circa 1958. Was joined by Allikins, and we went out for a constitutional. Aren't salads abominable?

-=-

Saturday May 10, 1980

_. Slept until 12:30. Mum and Dad went off with Dave B, Jim and Margaret to the Hermit at Burley Woodhead [Lynn was out with Sue & Ally purchasing bridesmaid gowns in Bradford].

Peter came up for me and we went to collect Chippy, supposedly to go to Menston to be measured for morning suits, but fate took us, surprise, surprise, to the Shoulder of Mutton, where we sat reminiscing. At 3 we went into the tap room there to watch the start of the FA Cup final and saw West Ham score what proved to be the only goal of the match against Arsenal.

In the mood for more frivolity we returned to Chippy's for tequila sunrises and Cointreau. Mrs Ash, Chippy's mother, was furious and screamed at us playing the stereo at full volume. We were so far gone that we talked Chippy out of working his night shift at the asylum, and we went into Guiseley and fell in with the doors as the White Cross opened. I believe that the proprietor asked us to leave, which we did peaceably. Our next port of call was the New Inn where the incumbent landlord was also similarly displeased with our near paralytic behaviour. I lifted a very large ash tray from the bar and inserted it down my trousers and afterwards presented it to Peter as an early wedding present.

From the New Inn we went to Peter's and I phoned High Royds, and told Chippy's superior at the asylum that the poor boy had been inflicted with botulism, and obviously couldn't carry out his nursing duties. I laughed down the phone because as I was speaking Chippy was standing on his head in the corner of the room. Later we bumped into Jim and met Sue and Ally at the White Cross. On to a pub in Leeds, I think in Headingley. Chippy collapsed and vomited everywhere.

-=-

Friday May 9, 1980

_. Up at 9. Dad drove me at 9:50 to see Dr Purdy. He prodded around under my shirt and gave me a note to take back to the office on Monday.

Later spent a few hours giving Dad some assistance in the garden.

Phoned Ally at the AHA and then set about compiling a massive epistle to her [well over 10 pages], much to Mummy's amazement, who sat gasping in wonderment at my literary capabilities. She was in fact viewing me through he her new £56 spectacles. Peter would call them 'spregs'.

John phoned from Lochans with JPH. He's found a job working evenings as a paint sprayer at a Scottish crash helmet factory [Kangol]. At least he can spend his days getting on with the renovations at Corner House Cottage. Little JPH was amusing, and explained he'd been helping his Dad plastering.

-=-

Thursday May 8, 1980

_. Cold, cloudy day.

Sarah phoned on a matter of business. The YP want to interview any peer of the realm who lives a normal life in a semi-detached house in Yorkshire. The YP are doing a piece comparing the life-style of a wealthy landowning Tory peer and his lefty working class counterpart in the Lords. The Labour peeress Baroness Bacon lives in humble circumstances.

Spoke to  Glynnie. His opening words were 'we have had a spot of bother with Billy'. ___________. Obviously, I promised never to tell a living soul of this.

From 12 until 4 Mum and I endured the very dull, boring drawn out 'spectacle' of President Tito's funeral on TV. The poor Yugoslavs did their best, but have absolutely no idea how to arrange a state funeral. The old dictator's coffin was thrown around like a sack of coal. The funeral was attended by many world leaders and crowned heads of Europe. Her Majesty was represented by the Duke of Edinburgh, who flew out with Mrs Thatcher and James Callaghan. It must be said that old Tito was crafty old fox for standing between east and west and managing to appease both sides.

Ally came at 7:30. Lynn and Dave arrived in D's new company car.________.

-=-

Wednesday May 7, 1980

_. An industrious day in bed writing letters to Ally, Dave L and Auntie Delia - it's Delia's birthday today.

My letter to David was a lengthy reply to the masterpiece he sent me way back in March in his famous 'olde worlde' hand.

I didn't wake up until 10. Sat with boiled eggs and toast reading the hideous Daily Mail, which can be digested in total in three minutes. Why Mama insists upon this shocking paper I will never know.

This afternoon I finished reading the laborious tale of Lillie Langtry's romance with Edward VII. From start to finish I had no interest in the book and but for the fact that I am a captive audience [after all I am bed bound] I would have discarded it days ago.

I phoned Sarah at 2:30 and told her she wouldn't be seeing me again until Monday. 'Keep in touch' were her parting words.

-=-

Tuesday May 6, 1980

_. I failed to mention yesterday that we stormed the Iranian embassy and freed the hostages, held captive since last Wednesday. We observed the drama on the Makin's telly in Windermere. It was a bit of decent Bank Holiday viewing that put 'Disney Time' and the 'Alan Whicker Special' to shame.

I woke up at 8, and feeling no better, I phoned Sarah with the news that I would not be in the office today. I sat in bed all day reading.

Mum and Dad went out at 5:30 after laying a new pink carpet in the lavatory [it now resembles the Petit Trianon]. Susan made eggs and bacon.

Dave L phoned. He told me that MM and Marita cannot make it to Ally's on May 17. I suppose I will be hearing from them this week. I will write a violent letter to them on the subject.

Ally phoned for a bulletin. I have replaced President Tito as far as medical bulletins are concerned.

-=-

Monday May 5, 1980

_. Bank Holiday in England, N. Ireland, Scotland & Wales.

Suffering from a severe cold. The disease didn't take hold until Ally and I were well on the way to Windermere to spend the day with her parents at the mansion of Frank and Barbara Makin. I could barely focus on the lake and it's beautiful, if crowded, surroundings, due to the constant streaming of mucus.

A pleasant day. Andrew was there with parents. He's 16, and seems insecure.

Home at 11:30. We were held up in Giggleswick by a horrendous car accident. Collapsed in bed wheezing like a fading octogenarian.

-=-

Sunday May 4, 1980

_4th Sunday after Easter

President Tito finally died today. It is quite amazing how the old dictator has kept going for so long, minus a leg, and at such an advanced age. What will the EP put on the foreign news page now without those hilarious daily bulletins? Carol J, for one, will be mortified.

Up at 10:30. I went into the garden with the bathroom carpet and gave it a good beating, and it befell me to get the room back into shape. Afterwards I retired with Lillie Langtry, an ill-written bitty piece of work. I remember the TV series, some years ago, with Francesca Annis playing Mrs Langtry.

Out with Sue and Pete at 7:30 to the Belfry to meet Ally, Graham, and Gill, who had dined there. After watching Graham and Gill playing at space invaders [a glorified, computerised version of a fruit machine] we went to Thornton to join  Richard and Eileen [from London], and Anthony, a friend of Graham's from his Bradford Grammar School days. Tetley's bitter flowed. Back to Club St at 10:30. Richard attempted to tune the piano, and we all sat laughing at the contents of a 1971 newspaper. A Georgian mansion, with paddock, set in 2,000 acres could be had for a mere £15,000.

-=-

Saturday May 3, 1980

_. We over slept [again] and Graham and Gill left in a state of panic to attend the wedding in Knaresborough. We had a leisurely breakfast, eggs and bacon.

A warm, sunny day, and we drove over to Haworth. We sat in the corner of a pub laughing at the other drinkers. Scornful is Beautiful, that's our motto. At 4 we returned to Club St for garlic beans on toast. All slept on the sofa afterwards, cuddling Phil, the stuffed dog.

Ally went to the Belfry at 6:30 and I returned home in the evening sunshine. Took to my bed after a few hours in front of the TV. Attempt to read the Lillie Langtry biography, but sleep crept upon me.

-=-

Friday May 2, 1980

_. No horrible after effects this morning and I rolled into the YP from my Bradford shooting box leaving a scantily clad Ally waving on her doorstep, creating juicy gossip for the other residents of Rue Club.

Kathleen, our beloved chief librarian, having no affiliation to a trade union, and with no desire to join one, disappeared down into the case room to carry out work which has been abandoned by the NGA members. Because of this desertion she expects me to work tomorrow morning, taking her place in the library. This is distasteful. I am no muggins. I took a half day to go home and decorate and instructed Mum that should the office ring and ask for me she is to advise them that I have gone to Windermere until Monday morning. The office did indeed phone, and Mum did inform them of my sudden departure for the Lake District. I feel that I have the moral high ground withholding my labours, and Papa agrees with me.

Mum and Dad took me to the Belfry at 10pm and when Ally finished her shift at 10:30 the two of us went over to the 'In Time' disco in Leeds to join Graham and Gill, who are in Yorkshire with a party of friends attending a wedding. We all went back to Club St after 2. Graham and Gill saw the house for the first time and both were very impressed. In Hampshire you can pay £50,000 for a shoe box.

-=-

Thursday May 1, 1980

_. Did you know that Queen Anne was buried in a square coffin and that George Washington had metal false teeth which eventually turned rusty?

Out this evening to Club St for dinner with Ally. At lunchtime I had ventured to Safeways and bought asparagus, butter beans, cheese, and rump steak. We ate at about 7, and afterwards went to Bingley to the White Horse and then Oakwood Hall. We saw no familiar faces at Oakwood. Cider with ice. Back to Club St at 2:15. Blimey, you should see the things we wrote on the bedroom wall on Tuesday night! The sooner it's covered in wallpaper the better.

-=-

Wednesday April 30, 1980

_. Regained consciousness at 10am. Panic reigned. My head, my eyes, my everything. I phoned the YP to be told that the boss is far from happy. Well, I wasn't exactly jubilant either. I went out and got a train to Leeds, and walked into the office at 11:25am. A day of rumblings and deep trauma. I really wanted to take the afternoon off, but thought better of broaching the subject. I couldn't eat my sandwiches and cast them into the bin.

The NGA strike continues and at 2:20 we [that is NATSOPA members] were summoned to a ridiculous meeting in the appropriately named theatre. A silly bitch in sunglasses, a union official, requested that we only carry out our own set of menial duties, and if the NGA ask us to perform any task we have to say 'no'. Ludicrous, if you ask me. By tea time I had recovered enough to walk out of the building and venture homeward. I helped Dad daub paint on the staircase.

-=-

Tuesday April 29, 1980

_. A glittering gathering at Tong for Jill's eighteenth birthday party. People too numerous to mention. By now you must have a very good idea who attended, and who did not. The Prince of Wales, the Duchess of Windsor and Isaac Bashevis Singer fall into the latter category. I was unaccompanied because Ally was at the Belfry until 11. I thoroughly enjoyed myself. Karen was wearing an alluring gown which at one point detached itself from her cleavage and plunged to the carpet. The Bacardi and coke flowed. Back at Wilsby at 10:30 we were joined by Ally - I named her 'Alicia' for the night. Steve's friend Phil thought I was calling her 'elixir'. That's near enough. By 2am people were drifting off but Ally and I sat with Hilda and Tony discussing local politics and Yorkshire terriers. Back to Club St at 3:30. We wrote messages on Ally's bare bedroom walls for future generations to marvel upon.

-=-

Monday April 28, 1980

_. Sarah has terminated her relationship with Richard Burke. Does this mean the end of the Regent?

Sharon joined us in the library today. She is to replace Eileen who departs in three weeks to have her baby. Sharon is Jewish, and prone to violent mood swings. Kathleen came in to the office, but left early to have something done with her wisdom teeth.

A gloomy cloud hangs over the YP. The NGA are on strike, and Paul Vallely  tells us it could go on for a couple of months and result is us all being laid off.

Went into the City Library at lunchtime and took out 'The Prince and the Lily', by James Brough. The story of the relationship between King Edward VII and Lillie Langtry. Lingering behind the book shelves I forgot the time and had to jog back to the YP at 2. Bought cousin Jill a birthday card and posted it.______.

Dave L phoned for the nettle wine recipe. He was evasive about the weekend agenda.

Cyrus Vance, the US Secretary of State has resigned over the hostage crisis leaving poor President Carter alone and desolate. A particularly spineless and cruel thing to do. Abandoning the sinking ship, and all that.

Coronation Street followed by President Nixon on 'Panorama'. I cannot help admiring the old crook.
Retired at 12:20 with 'The ABC Murders', but half way in I suddenly remembered who it was that committed them.

-=-

Sunday April 27, 1980

_. 3rd Sunday after Easter

Ally and I were the first up at 9:25. We fried eggs and bacon. At 10:30 Ally went off to the Belfry and I returned home with Lynn and Dave. I sat reading the Sunday papers. Lynn discussed life with Mum and Dad and poor Dave was laid flat out like a 13th century effigy in Westminster Abbey. Back to the Sunday papers. President Carter is up to his knees in merde over Iran and his failure to release the hostages. It's been a complete cock-up, in fact. I do feel very sorry for the president. My opinion of Jimmy Carter has changed in the past 6 months, and I am sure he will be re-elected in November. Can you imagine Ronald Reagan as president?

Lynn and Dave went home at lunchtime. I sat reading 'The ABC Murders' [again] by Dame Agatha Christie. Saw Rosamond John in an old film. Isn't she the wife of would-be Labour party leader John Silkin, MP? Later saw Liv Ullman in the film 'Pope Joan', based on the legend of the 9th century female who ascended the throne of St Peter, and died in childbirth. 'Pope dies in childbirth', just imagining the headline in the EP.

-=-

Saturday April 26, 1980

_. Hot day. Went to Ally's at 11:30 and spent a hideous afternoon stripping the wallpaper from her bedroom walls. She busied herself with the vacuum cleaner. All very domesticated. Took at hot bath at 5:30 and sat aching from the strain of my labours.

Lynn and Dave came over at 8. We went for a few drinks to Thornton and then on to the Belfry for dinner - a treat from Ally no less. Ally disagreed with me when I said I thought the owner, Mrs Hartley, was a ______. Ally looked lovely in a new gown. Dave drank like a fish but Lynn abstained in order to chauffeur us back to Club Street. Lynn clutching a glass of tonic water, a rare sight.

Back at Slumber Towers we danced and talked until dawn. Dave came upstairs to inspect the damp patches.

-=-

Friday April 25, 1980

_. Ghastly hangover. To the YP but took a half day and left at 12 to a lecture from Mama on how to behave at her social gatherings. Peter and I became somewhat over excited last night and had a bit of a beer fight in the kitchen. She said she'd spent all morning cleaning up the mess caused by my 'mindless behaviour'. I ruined her evening, evidently. She then walked out and up the lane to administer comfort and lend her sparkling charm to Muriel Rawnsley, who is in a state of severe depression.

Ally phoned when I was in the bath. The phone always rings when I'm submerged.

Out tonight with Dave L. Had a few drinks with Sue and Pete at the Fox and Hounds and then Dave and I went to the New Inn. Saw Ken, the projectionist. MM and Marita dominated our conversation.

-=-

Thursday April 24, 1980

_. John MacMurray's party at the Eagle on North Street to celebrate his forthcoming departure for London.

Kathleen and I had been alone at the YP all day whilst Sarah and Eileen had a glittering day in Sheffield at the YP Literary Luncheon setting tables and running around for Richard Douro, our very own 'Mr Durex'. They returned at 5 looking sozzled with tales of some of the VIP guests. They fell foul of Laura, Duchess of Marlborough, a hideous and suicidal alcoholic who married the 10th Duke of Marlborough [as her fourth husband] in January, 1972, and 'killed him off' eight weeks later.

At 5:30 Eileen, Kathleen, Lynne Bateson and I got a lift to the Eagle with Stephanie Ferguson. The general topic en route being sex, and more specifically the sex life of C______ M______. He is a pain in the neck, but a very close friend of Kathleen. Stephanie laughed as she told us that C had remained a virgin until he was 28. He phoned ATV on Monday to complain about a naughty word he'd heard used in a TV drama. Eileen and I agreed that C is pathetic, and probably insane, but Kathleen sat shuffling uncomfortably in her seat, looking shifty, and rather like how St Peter might have looked when denying his relationship with Christ.

At the Eagle I drank like a fish and spent far too much. Ally joined us at 7. We sat on a table with Lynne B and Sarah. We left at 9 and Ally dropped Sarah and West End Lane. On to Pine Tops for Mum's gathering. A full company of Gadsbys were assembled but I was too pissed to appreciate anyone. Have you ever tried home made nettle wine with carrot garnish? I have.

-=-

Wednesday April 23, 1980

_. St George's Day

Sarah was very miserable today and out of humour. She told me in confidence, and with sagging features, that both her 'chaps' have deserted her. She hasn't seen Richard Burke since the naughty film show at Pine Tops, and the inter galactic rugby league star, John Holmes, hasn't contacted her since he went to Ireland for a few days last week. She snapped that she couldn't possibly attend Eileen's leaving do because she would be the only single reveller. How very childish of her.

St George's Day, &c. The BBC made a contribution to our saint's day by showing Shakespeare's 'Henry V' - I haven't seen it before. Mum and Dad sat in silence throughout the pageant.

The Queen created two new Knights of the Garter today. Sir Richard Hull, a general, and former Lord Lieutenant for Devon, and Sir Keith Holyoake, Governor-General of New Zealand. They fill the vacancies in the order brought about by the deaths of Earl Mountbatten and Sir Gerald Templar.

'Coronation Street' has reached a fever pitch of excitement. I will not discuss the antics of Len Fairclough here, but I thought I'd let you know that I do look in occasionally at the endless round of soap operas churned out by the broadcasting authorities.

-=-

Tuesday April 22, 1980

_. Industrious day at the YP. Home at 5:20 to a delightful rump steak. Dad seemed to devour his in seconds, and he sat smacking his lips like some carnivorous jungle beast.

I phoned Ally at breakfast time [as I always do] and she phoned me in the afternoon. We plan to lunch in Leeds tomorrow. I arranged to meet her at Whitelocks.

This evening I spoke to Dave L. His new teaching job in going down quite nicely. He's teaching first formers and spends day after day just repeating himself. I am thankful that I was spared becoming a teacher. I am sure that by now I would have been in Broadmoor. We may be going out on Friday, but details have yet to be discussed.

Lynn appeared here this morning to prove to Mama that she is in fact fit and well. The Bakers are going to Spain on July 1.

Mrs Thatcher completes her first year as prime minister next week.  I think she is doing a remarkable job.

-=-

Monday April 21, 1980

_. John MacMurray is hosting a party at the Eagle on Thursday to mark his departure from the YP to London and world-wide fame on Fleet Street. It was inevitable that he should leave us. He is quite brilliant in the field of music but can go no further at the YP because Ernest Bradbury blocks all the musical opportunities.

The Queen is fifty four today, behind her desk, piled high with Foreign Office telegrams and parliamentary papers. Queen Juliana [of the Netherlands] goes into retirement next week and I wince at the thought of our monarch similarly handing over the reins. I have every confidence in the abilities of the Prince of Wales, but I could not switch my allegiance to him during his mother's life time. Old fashioned probably, but aren't the old, well established ways the best! So, 'Go it, Old Girl, Go it!'

Just Sue and I at home this evening. Mum and Dad went out with Lynn and Dave to Burley. Lynn, we are told, became horribly intoxicated on barley wine and had to be put to bed. Dave puts her staggering down to excitement brought on planning a Spanish holiday.

-=-

Sunday April 20, 1980

_. 2nd Sunday after Easter

Ally dropped me on Manningham Lane and drove off to her labours at the Belfry. 10:30 on a sunny morn in Bradford, my lungs full of curry fumes, and my heart singing along with the birds.

At home Mum and Dad are full of excitement about an old pub they visited near Pateley Bridge last night. The Stone House Inn at Thruscross is owned by an 86-year-old doddering gent and his daughter. They told my parents that the place will shortly be up for sale.

Glynnie has been very quiet since the Grassington weekend. Has he tired of our company?

-=-

Saturday April 19, 1980

_. Clad in my finest gear I set out at 11 to pay court to Miss Dixon. I found her reclining in her boudoir. She pottered around upstairs and I sat twiddling my thumbs. This set the scene for the day.

A little man appeared at 1:30, with a sizeable tool box, and he went up into the loft in search of damp patches.

At 9pm we went to a couple of pubs in Thornton. Ally thought she might bump into her office mate, the demure, tiny, mouse-like Catherine and her fiance, David. But we were left alone for the night. We did a fair bit of giggling. I now look as though I've just flown in from Nassau, Bahamas, thanks to the infrared sun lamp. Fish and Chips in Lidget Green and then back to Club Street, where I discovered a wonderful delicacy: blackcurrant jelly flooded in gin. It's an ideal way to get shy and innocent people to discard all their clothing.

-=-

Friday April 18, 1980

_.Decidedly hung over. I won't dwell on it because I know how boring it must be for you all in the twenty third century busily topping up on anti-hangover pills.

Carol J took her leave of us this afternoon to begin a European tour of Earl Bathurst proportions. [Wasn't it Allen Bathurst who started the craze for the aristo European tours in the eighteenth century?] The Russians are waiting like vultures for President Tito to give up the ghost. Let us hope that Carol is in the right place at the right time and is conscripted into the Yugoslav army, and helps save Europe from Soviet domination.

A night in front of a blazing television. Saw 'Soap' a funny American spoof.

-=-

Thursday April 17, 1980

_. A traditional Thursday with the full works that included a visit to Oakwood Hall. I glowed like a jubilee beacon all day thanks to Sue's infrared sun lamp.

Ally came at 8. We went to the New Inn. Drank gallons of Tetley's bitter. It was particularly favourable.

At 10:30 to Oakwood for cider with ice and dance. I become increasingly jealous of others who crawl around Ally. Philip Wilson, very drunk, tried several times to dance with her. Pete came in with Gus. The latter threw his arms round me and kissed me. Gus then proceeded to dance like an eastern tart. He wants to go to a party in Lincoln on Saturday, but of course this is quite impossible. I was looking particularly attractive. Nothing short of stunning. Your average stud at Oakwood Hall is about 18 these days. Later events are not clear - opaque in fact. Naomi was squealing with delight. Big Jill came over, gave me a knowing wink and a grope.

-=-

Wednesday April 16, 1980

_. Mummy and Daddy went off to Fieldhead Road to see Jim and Margaret. ______. I had a bath this evening and afterwards Sue insisted I try out her sun lamp, an infrared thing. With a bit of luck I might fade to a more acceptable colour by morning.

-=-

Tuesday April 15, 1980

_. Toast and marmalade. Had no lunch, to save money for the holiday.

Speculation is running thick and fast regarding a certain marriage. Lady Amanda Knatchbull is not the lady in question, but Lady Alison Dixon, and I am my mother's answer to the heir apparent.

Mother has started questioning me regarding my marital intentions, and is quite breathless from the excitement of it all. The whole thing is nicely sewn up as far as she is concerned. She knows, or thinks she knows that I will marry Ally, but the time and place eludes her. I sat in silence, stony faced. It is a pity that such an intelligent woman has fallen for idle, trivial  and dangerously speculative nonsense.

-=-

Monday April 14, 1980

_. Sarah came into the office and apologised for abandoning us on Saturday. She didn't want to go to Black Louis's party, but Richard insisted.

Papers full of speculation about the Prince of Wales and Lady Amanda Knatchbull. Can this be it?

-=-

Sunday April 13, 1980

_. Low Sunday

The Observer has a piece on the Prince of Wales and Lady Amanda Knatchbull's relationship. When the boring old Observer gets on the bandwagon I feel it must be serious. They say she'll use one of her middle names and be 'Queen Victoria.'

Ally and I watched 'The Dam Busters'.

Ally went off to the Belfry. I spent the evening compiling a lengthy letter to her. Watched 'Not the Nine O'Clock News' on BBC2, the funniest thing on TV at the moment. An up and coming actress called [Pamela] Stephenson gave a remarkable impersonation of Angela Rippon.

-=-

Saturday April 12, 1980

_. Ally and I ate toast and marmalade and made faces across the dining table. We wanted to do something exciting and so I suggested we go Bramley in search of the cemetery to locate my great-grandfather, John Rhodes, and his wife Christiana Ross, who died nearly 40 years ago. Ally spent hours in the bathroom making herself look pretty. One would think we were having cocktails with Princess Michael of Kent and not grovelling around in the graveyard of a muddy Leeds suburb.

We got to Bramley for about 1pm and soon located the Baptist Chapel. We found it quite easily considering I haven't been since Dad took me there about 10 years ago. We trudged around in the long grass. It was a futile search and we gave up. It seems that John and Christiana are at rest, in secret. We went on to Pudsey for a drink at the Boar's Head. Ally posted some cash through Auntie Hilda's door for some reason, and then we returned home to see Sue and Peter.

I phoned Sarah and told her about the 'film show' tonight and she was beside herself with excitement. Ally and I met Dave L at the Cow & Calf. They do get on very well. At 10 we joined Sue, Pete and co at the White Cross, and we all went back to Pine Tops for a 'blue film' marathon at 11. Sue, Pete, Ally, Dave L, Dave W, Chippy, Debbie, Frank, Gus, Sarah, Richard Burke, Ken [the projectionist] and his lady wife. After 10 minutes I was thoroughly bored. In fact it was quite revolting. Like looking in a butcher's shop window.

We all smoked and drank profusely and did a good deal of tittering on the settee. Sarah found the whole thing an education, but Richard's jaw dropped at my joke about the Pope and Ursula Andress. He is a good catholic, I think.

As soon as the film reached it's climax the house cleared as if we'd been raided by the vice squad. Sarah and Richard excused themsevles and shot off to Black Louis's party in Leeds. We were invited too, but Ally pulled a face and declined the offer.  Just Dave L, Ally and I remained and we decided to eat. Dave refused to share my garlic beans and stuck to poached eggs, fruit cake, and a pot of tea. Pornography certainly gave me an appetite, if nothing else. We sat around the record player having a 'sing along'. 'Sweet Takin' Guy' by the Chiffons has a good chorus for dabbling in descant. Dave departed in full voice.

-=-

Friday April 11, 1980

_, I spent the small hours washing glasses and was joined by Dmitri, the Persian cat from next door.
By the time I climbed into bed I already had a hangover. At 7 I regained consciousness and ignored Ally's pleas that she may be excused her daily labours at Bradford AHA. I was firm and poured hot, black coffee over her to persuade her to quit the festering pit. Once up she scampered around and left at high speed at 8am.

I had lunch with Jacq at the Ostlers. She arrived looking very dull and proceeded to describe how her house has been burgled and stripped of every item of value over the Easter holiday. She and Paul returned from Trixie's in London to find a desolate ruin. The thieves swiped all her record collection, and even her leaking iron. Saturday's party is now cancelled. The poor girl is really disillusioned with mankind. Had a few pints in the dismal atmosphere and returned to the YP at 2.

Mum and Dad left for a weekend of peace and tranquillity in Northumberland. At 7 I phoned John at Molly's and he came over at 8:30 - Maria drove him to ours with Janette. We went to the White Cross , then the Fox and Hounds (with Sue and Pete) and then on to the New Inn at Guiseley, which was packed. We saw Ken, and I asked him to come show a few 'films' tomorrow. John and I were quite pissed, whisky. On the way to the New Inn we saw Maria parked up there, gassing with Christine Airey. _______. Ally came at midnight and stayed the night. We drove John back to Ridgeway and the two of us sat in the car, still open roofed._______.

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Thursday April 10, 1980

_. Lynn and Dave came to eat and were singing the praises of Stranraer to the extent that I thought they may soon be crossing the border and join the prodigal John Rhodeses in the heather.

Ally came at 7:30. We went to the Menston Arms. Joined by Mum, Dad, Sue, Pete. John & Maria didn't arrive until almost 10 o'clock accompanied by Jimmy Macdonald, Karim and her sister. Jimmy and I had our usual political debate. This one concerned the House of  Lords and the hereditary principle. Why should the upper house be dominated by life peers, retired MPs and personal friends of Sir Harold Wilson? The hereditary element brings younger people, not just professional politicians into the chamber.

At 10:30 we returned home to continue the party. Neither Karim or her sister joined us but Jimmy came along and the heated debate continued. I sat smoking on the fireplace. Maria, in good form, asked me from which jumble sale I'd bought my white jeans.

Ally, exhausted, collapsed in my bed. I carried on smoking and putting the world to rights.

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