Thursday December 11, 1980

_. Out at lunchtime to Safeways to buy food for tonight's orgy of cousins and aunts. Spent £4 for nothing. Straight to Ally's at 5, and spent three hours decorating the sitting room for Christmas. The walls bedecked in balloons and a little tree flashed in a corner, sparkling with a hundred balls. In the midst of this grotto-building we broke off to buy booze at Morrisons. 

The first to arrive at 8 [as I climbed out of the bath] was Karen and Steve. They are not too upset about the murdered Pudsey landlady - a close friend. Next came Mum, Dad, Jim, Margaret, Lynn, Dave, Sue, Pete, Hilda, Tony, Mabel, Diane, Paul who completed the party. Sprog Cottage packed like the Black Hole of Calcutta. Drank gallons and ate heartily. 

An amiable party in every way. The flashing Christmas tree lights caused no offence, and the tapes of John Lennon's hits were well received. Margaret said, dryly, that she'd never liked John Lennon, but that shooting him was taking it a bit too far. Certain persons were expecting an engagement announcement from Ally and I but none came. After they'd all left at 1am Ally was floored by a falling tin from a kitchen cupboard. We retired at 3.

-=-

Wednesday December 10, 1980

_. On to Leeds from Bradford at 8. A dull day. Every paper full of Lennon's end. Phoned Mum when the news came into the office that Mrs Clay, the wife of the landlord of the Royal pub in Pudsey, had been murdered at Dewsbury Railway station. The Royal is a Karen and Steve stronghold and they'll certainly know the unfortunate dame. Is she perhaps the 14th Ripper victim? 

Phoned Ally too. She came over at 7:30. Coronation Street is really gripping at the moment. Poor Emily has discovered that she's living with a bigamist ['Bigamy? Lady this is bigger than the both of us!]. 

Dave G phoned just to make sure Saturday is still on. Spent the night with Ally in the kitchen mixing pizza pie, and juggling with tarts and flans. By 11 I had had quite enough. Felt buggered. 

Frankie Howerd was on the telly tonight [whilst we were cooking in the kitchen] and we could hear Mum roaring with laughter. I think I can say Frankie is one of the few people who never fails to leave her in fits. Another one is Uncle Harry, but where is he?

Watched a programme on the life of Max Miller and retired to bed at 12:30 where I now sit listening to the rain on the window as I read John Lennon's obituary in the Times. 

-=-

Tuesday December 9, 1980

_. Gloom abounds. Phoned Ally at 7:30 to get her out of her snug, pink bed and she shocked me by announcing that John Lennon, the Beatle, has been shot dead by a mad man in New York. Such a tragic end to a life of genius. For the remainder of the day I was in a state of shock. The Beatles are an important part of our lives and the loss of John Lennon brought memories of childhood flooding back. Those brilliant songs and tunes are engraved on all our hearts. It's obvious that his death has hit everyone. Someone in the office said we are making more of this than both Kennedy assassinations rolled into one, but I do think that Lennon deserves the obsequies befitting a King.

To Ally's at 6. She has bought me the new David Bowie LP as a thank you for my decorating services at Club Street. She spent the evening cleaning and I listened to Mike Read's Lennon tribute on Radio One until 10. Ate fish and chips afterwards and went about with a paint brush touching up here and there.

I have been reflective and subdued tonight. The loss of the occasional superstar moves me immensely.

-=-

Monday December 8, 1980

_. Bitterly cold ... again. YP industrious, but uneventful. Ally has a new girl working in her office, Gillian by name.

Spoke to JPH and Maria tonight. The little boy loves his sister. When Mum referred to her as 'a scamp' JPH barked back: 'Oh no she isn't!' He wants a combined harvester from Santa Claus and a garage with cars. The poor boy's been posting letters up his chimney addressed to the Christmas fairy.

Ally came to tea. Provisions have arrived for her bedroom decor. Pink bedding and curtains. She stayed until 9 and then went back to Lidget Green to festoon her boudoir with the new finery.

Read 'Desperate Remedies' by Thomas Hardy. I found 'The Trumpet Major' immensely readable, and intend reading the complete works of Mr Hardy. Sarah insists he is dull and heavy going, but I disagree. In fact I'm going straight over to my latest book now.

News: Mrs Thatcher's been to Eire. Poland isn't jubilant about a possible Russian invasion. The Prince of Wales is now in Nepal. Does King Birendra have a sister?

-=-

Sunday December 7, 1980

_. 2nd Sunday in Advent

Bitterly cold. Carole is perfectly well [according to Maria]. Sue has heard from Mick Lynch that the baby is to be Jo Louise. Lynch, it seems, has returned to the Lynch nest and Carole has returned to Oakridge Avenue, and the clutches of Margaret Phillips.

Daubed gloss paint all afternoon and finished the small bedroom. Ally fell down the stairs and hurt her back [not seriously] but sat pale and uncomfortable for the remainder of the evening.

To dinner with Mummy and Daddy at 6. Lamb, roast potatoes, &c, followed by lemon meringue pie. A delicious candlelit dinner. Watched TV afterwards, and the late film entitled 'Bring Me the Head of Alfredo Garcia'. Mum and Ally had retired at 11:30. Ally is convinced she is now crippled by her fall.


-=-

Saturday December 6, 1980

_. Very cold. Up at 11. To Bradford with Ally. Paint until nearly 4 and then on to Guy Watson's where we bought John and Maria an oil lamp [£10] for Christmas. To Harry Ramsden's for tea.

We collected Dave L at 8:30 and took him to the Fox & Hounds, Menston Arms and New Inn. Such a good evening. David has such a vivid imagination, he brightens the dullest bar.

Slept at Guiseley. Pine Tops, like an Edwardian country house, with Ally and I padding around like 'Harty Tarty' and 'Skittles'. Oh, yes.

Jayne Waite is pregnant again [3rd], and Helen Malin pregnant [1st]. Must be something in the air.

-=-

Friday December 5, 1980

_. No Shazzo today. Kathleen banged around in the office threatening war. The Russians could do with having Kathleen on their side. She makes Leonid Brezhnev look like Liberace. Home at 6.

Mum and Dad went out for a 'drive' leaving me with mounds of chips and a couple in insipid fishcakes.

Ally came at 8 and we went to the Queen's on Apperley Lane - dead. We laughed nervously as though we were in Rheims Cathedral, not a boozer. After one drink we moved on to the Drop, which was friendly. Mrs Hanson always makes such a fuss of us both. Finally, at 10:30 to the New Inn, always noisy, bright and like an orgy.

I am relieved we have not committed ourselves re the '81 holiday because we are happy and cheerful without worrying about the £300 each. Besides, I've had enough of San Antonio and I prefer the idea of a new pair of shoes and a pot flying pig. Home to watch 'Soap'.


-=-

Thursday December 4, 1980

_. Cold. Traumatic arrival at the office. Kathleen had raised her voice at Shazzo, at which the girl had fled in hysterics from the office locking herself in the toilets for over an hour. At 9:30 she emerged, very tear-stained, and attempted to escape from the YP with her bags. Sarah played a brilliant and spontaneous 'Henry Kissinger' and appeased the bereft Miss Cohen. I sat, wide eyed, at the skill of Sarah's United Nations-like manoeuvre. Shazzo was silent for the rest of the day, but at least we held her.

Onward to Rue Club at 5. Looked for the [Yorkshire] Ripper en route but saw nothing of him. I mused to myself as I journeyed along the dreary city streets that I was in the possession of a very large pair of menacing decorating scissors which would have looked highly suspicious had I been accosted and searched by the boys in blue.

At Ally's I put oyster paint all over her walls. Back to the New Inn for a few drinks before joining Mum and Dad with Jim and Margaret. Ally stayed over.

-=-

Wednesday December 3, 1980

_. To Ally's after the YP and spent the evening hanging wallpaper in the small bedroom. A job well done.Afterwards we sat eating a very weak, meatless soup, washed down with lager. I ache all over from the strain suffered stretching up the walls. I feel like the victim of some medieval torture, the type frequently deployed in the bowels of Pontefract Castle on unfortunate Plantagenet monarchs.

During dinner we suffered the trauma of a telephone call from Mrs Pinder, mother of the infamous John. She was ringing, she said, just for 'a Christmas chat', and went on to inform Ally that John had married Mrs Susan Say, in November, 1979, and they have since had a daughter, Emma, and that they now have a pub in Dorchester. Poor Ally went decidedly pale, but held her composure. _____. Ally always refers to his woman as 'Mrs Say' - her Christian name sticks in Ally's throat.

Listened to music and retired to bed at 12 feeling knackered.

-=-

Tuesday December 2, 1980

_. In my hideous misery yesterday I failed to mention that the former Christine Braithwaite telephoned me regarding ad advert on Friday's YP. She is now living in Burley Woodhead in a rented farm house near the Hermit pub. Sounds opulent.

To Leeds with with Jim, Muriel, Patrick and Jennie - the whole family no less. He refused to discuss his car accident and bit Muriel's head off when she mentioned it. He is acutely sorry for himself.

Mulley: nodded off.

Merlyn Rees's son has spent the day with us receiving library induction treatment from Kathleen. He laughed when I showed him photos of Fred Mulley, then Labour Defence minister under Callaghan, who nodded off while sitting next to the Queen at an air display in 1977. Rees's comment was that this simple slip lost Mulley the chance of attaining glittering high office. Sarcasm, obviously.

Spoke to Ally a few times and received a lovely letter. I am going over to decorate tomorrow. It's long overdue. She is reading a biography of Sarah Bernhardt, someone of whom I know little other than the fact that she frequently slept with Edward VII. But who didn't?

News: Lady Diana Spencer's mother has written to The Times criticising the press for harrassing her daughter from dawn until dusk. I quite agree with her. It's shameful. She also criticised the ridiculous so-called quotes reputedly to have come from Lady Diana and refers to them as 'lies'. Mrs Shand Kydd also mentions the 'Royal Train incident'. Meanwhile HRH is still in India. It is also announced that he will be visiting New Zealand in the Spring.

In other news: Russia will probably invade Poland within the month, by way of a Christmas present. They did Afghanistan at Christmas last year.

Monday December 1, 1980

_. Hideous day of suspense, fear and agony. Climbed out of bed at 6:45 with the feeling that this was to be my last morning on God's earth. Took a lingering look at the view from my window, a final look. Nothing of interest but the temperate milkman making his way through the drizzle with his crates. Missed my lift with JR and got a lift to Leeds with David [from a house halfway down Hawksworth Lane] and his silent brother. I found it odd that when the news came on Pennine Radio and mention was made of the Yorkshire Ripper he immediately tuned into Dave Lee Travis on Radio One. Surely, he is the only man in Yorkshire not interested in 'Jack'? Or perhaps he is Jack?

To Rawdon at 5 for my dreaded session with the dentist. Jim Rawnsley was on the bus. He smashed his car beyond recognition in Horsforth on Nov 21. Thankfully, Jennie was spared. At the dentist I had an odious filling which cost me £8. Home at 6:15 with Papa. Numb and lifeless. Me, not Papa.

Mum and Dad went to Hilda's. I ate at 9:30. Bed at 11:30 with Thomas Hardy.

-=-

Sunday November 30, 1980

_. St Andrew's Day.  Advent Sunday

I believe it's Sir Winston Churchill's birthday today - his 106th. Up at 10:30. Bright, sunny, wintry. Ally, Lynn, Dave and I walked to the Plough at 12. Joined by Graham, Gill, and Tony. Another log fire. Midge looks well, even though she is about to have a second 'big' operation on her legs. Walked back to lunch at 2. An enormous meal in the mock Hepplewhite dining room. Sumptuous.

We left at 5, arriving at snow covered Bradford at 9:30. Dropped Ally off and then on to Guiseley. It was sad leaving her. Mum and Dad were at Sue and Pete's and came in at 10:30, both very quiet.

-=-

Saturday November 28, 1980

_. No snow in this part of the world. Freezing cold day though. After a massive breakfast we went to Winchester - that is Ally and I with Lynn, Dave, Graham and Gill. Had a few drinks in the Southgate. Out shopping afterwards. Ally is a precious thing and a delight to go shopping with. I have never found so much peace in Woolworths or Boots with anyone before. I took her into a hairdresser who pierced her ears with 24 carat gold diamond studded ear-rings. I paid the £8. Spent hours shopping afterwards. Lynn bought an enormous kaftan to wear in the final days of her pregnancy.

Back for steak for dinner at 7 after a brief visit to Graham and Charlotte Smith. We drank whisky and listened to their tales of a recent Sri Lankan holiday. Both well, and eccentric as ever.

Out tonight to the Bush at Ovington, and then the Cart and Horses at Kings Worthy. We had a laugh around a log fire drinking Bell's whisky. They seem to be crazy about log fires in these parts. A lumberjack's paradise. Back at Chillandham Cross we watched Hayley films in the film 'Endless Night' - nauseating.

-=-

Friday November 27, 1980

_. Up at 8:30 to make sure Ally was up and off to her appointment with her hairdresser. The diarrhoea continues. I sat with a black coffee watching the heavy black clouds rolling above. Ally left at 9:20 to rid herself of her 'greasy, unmanageable hair' [her words].

Lynn phoned. I told her to ensure her car seats are covered in polythene sheets because my bowels are not to be trusted on the looming epic journey to Winchester. At 10 it began to snow furiously and reports on the radio say the roads are treacherous throughout the land.

Lynn and Dave collected me at about 2, and we we went to pick up Ally at snow-covered Lidget Green. Her hair is permed. It's the nicest it's been. Clad in her velvet dungarees, which she wore frequently at the onset of our courtship. Good journey to Hampshire. We arrived at Martyr Worthy for 7. Bessie looks fit, but Frank vice versa. On to the Ship Inn at Bishop Sutton, with Graham [fatter] and a limping Gill. I had scampi, but left most of it. On to the Plough at 11. Tony with us. Back to Chillandham Cross at 11:30. Watched Peter Sellers in 'What's New, Pussycat?' To bed at 1:15.

-=-

Thursday November 26, 1980

_. Back to the YP. Carol embraced me when I walked into the office. She likens my entry to the Stanley-Livingstone meeting in a steaming African jungle all those decades ago. Kathleen wept for joy.

Received £8.03 for tips and lineage contributed to the YP in September. Excellent. Out at lunchtime. Bought a bottle of Bell's whisky for Mama's Xmas booze mountain. Bought a 1981 journal - £2.60.

Mum phoned at 3:30 to say Carole Phillips gave birth to a daughter on Nov 25 weighing in excess of 9lb. Dad saw Margaret Phillips [to serve a summons on something] and she told him that the baby is in great shape, but that Carole is quite ill. Bless her, she wanted a girl.

Home in the ice and hail at 6. Soaked to the skin. Still have no appetite and sat poking at some fish, pushing it around my plate. This isn't me at all.

Rachel Roberts: dead at 51.

News: 5,000 die in an Italian earthquake. The YP had a leader today on Lady Diana Spencer 'marriageability'. Rachel Roberts, the actress, dies at 51. In the House of Commons Edward Heath has said nasty things about Margaret Thatcher. Unemployment figures now top 53,000,000.

Watched 'Top of the Pops' on the BBC. It's always good for a laugh watching Dad's reaction to the half-crazed warblers. Watching them from over the top of his Yorkshire Post, bravely accepting everything assaulting his ears.

Jim and Margaret came at 8:30 and stayed until 11. To bed at 12 after 'Soap' on Tyne Tees TV. I look completely washed out.

-=-

Wednesday November 26, 1980

_. Sunny. Up at 10 or thereabouts. Ate little breakfast because my appetite is still wandering around elsewhere. I had a conversation with Ally and we decided to spend lunchtime in some local ale house.

I sat buried in 'The Trumpet Major' - old Hardy really has surprised me quite pleasantly. I always imagined his works to be dull.

Jim Nason.

Ally came at 12:30 and we went to the Fox and Hounds [Menston] where we bumped into Jim Nason and a fellow workmate from Armitage Shanks. He bought us a drink and left at 1:30. The were both jealously observing their managing director entertaining a party from Switzerland to lunch, and wanted to be part of it. Back at Pine Tops we had prawn sandwiches and then Ally returned to her office, and Derek Jenkins, and his filthy Welsh habits.

The Prince of Wales is in India and reports now say that Malcolm Fraser, the Australian prime minister [and other Commonwealth leaders] have been told that the royal marriage to Lady Diana Spencer is scheduled for next June, or October. This has been denied by the palace, naturally. A red-faced Malcolm Fraser has said he hasn't 'let slip' this news, and cries of 'rubbish' and 'codswallop' fly everywhere, but I do think this is it. The royal chips are, as they say, down.

Sir Geoffrey Howe is in trouble over his national insurance mess, and perhaps his head will roll.

Spent the afternoon and evening pouring over 'The Trumpet Major'. The TV is diabolical. To bed at 11:30.

-=-

Tuesday November 25, 1980

_. Bright and sunny. Up at 11. Mama was on the phone talking to Sarah. From the tone of the conversation I gather that Sarah too is laid low with the plague. I laid in my sweaty sheets chortling at the thought of the chaos and pandemonium at the YP library with both it's workers off at the same time.

Ate some breakfast and then went for a walk in the sun to to the library. Did some shopping for Mama. Struggling back up the lane I was made painfully aware how my illness has taken its toll and weakened me. I reached Pine Tops panting and sweating as if I'd just completed the north face of the Eiger.

Ally phoned while I was out and was going to lunch with the desolate Catherine who dislikes her new job in the anaesthetist department.

Susie phoned. Both she and Pete have diarrhoea, and are currently running at West End Terrace. Lynn also phoned, and yes, you've guessed, she too has had a slight attack of the abovementioned ailment. It seems we are all stricken.

Phoned Sarah at 1:30. Delia accused me of ignoring her which is quite accurate really. Sarah giggled at us both being absent from the office and insisted I take tomorrow off as well. 'Let them do some work for a change' she said. This appealed to me greatly.

Brown: attacked.

Sarah told me that poor Michael Brown was beaten up over the weekend in Leeds after being caught up in a women's anti-Ripper demonstration. It seems that the brigands were setting about any males whom they could lay hands on. I do understand the fear women must be feeling in these violent times and this particularly violent area, but by attacking innocent members of the opposite sex I am afraid they are defeating the object.

Had lunch by candlelight at 2pm because the light outside began fading rapidly. Afterwards Papa fell into an immediate sleep [he'd been looking after violent prisoners in Otley since 6am]. I poured over 'The Trumpet Major' and Mama knitted furiously in pink wool. Yet another creation for baby Catherine.

Ally came at 5:30 and we went to Pudsey in the dark and drizzle. To St Lawrence Close. Auntie Mabel looked bright and thinner. I find it hard to believe she is almost 62. Had a heavy dinner here and watched TV until 10:30. Ally and I were huddled on the sofa. I could see that auntie fully approves of her. She is coming to Ally's party on Dec 11.

-=-

Monday November 24, 1980

_. To make matters worse I now have diarrhoea which is most inconvenient. Wet. Diarrhoea's wet too. Woke at 8 to hear Mum giving Ally her alarm call and went back to sleep until 10.

Sat in my warm bed reading about Edward VIII's abdication, which reminds me of my own abdication from the YP. Poor Shazzo is alone with Carol at the office amidst all the Yorkshire Ripper chaos and the Italian earthquake. Sarah is with John MacM in London. However, I do not feel fraudulent in any respect because I simply refuse to shit myself in a newspaper office for £55 a week.

Ally phoned and was bubbly. She's carrying on painting tonight. I had a salad for lunch whilst clutching a hot water bottle between my knees at the same time. An odd combination.

News: The Prince of Wales has gone to India for a week or so which might halt Lady Diana speculation, if only briefly. The boy is far too busy to think about becoming engaged. A report in the Daily Mail this morning likens Lady Diana's eyes ~ the colour ~ to those of Elizabeth Taylor. That will do for me.

Stayed in bed until after 3 when I tired of Edward and Wallis and took up Hardy's 'The Trumpet Major'. I haven't read Hardy before. Spoke to Ally twice. Gill had a motoring accident on Friday and might have broken her nose and hurt her knee whilst writing off her car. Bessie is buying Ally a tumble dryer for Christmas. No longer will Club Street resemble a Chinese laundry. Ally is nervous about being alone in Bradford since the latest Ripper murder. She felt the same after Barbara Leach's murder, &c.

What has become of our poor nation? Just seen footage of a demo in London on Saturday by the so-called British Movement. Pre-pubic skinhead yobs. I'd shoot the lot of them.

-=-

Sunday November 23, 1980

_. Last Sunday after Trinity

Woke up feeling better, but with a headache. Had a boiled egg. Joked with Mum about last night's 'ball'.

Reading 'The Windsor Story' by J. Bryan III and Charles J.V. Murphy. Watched Peter Sellers in a poor, Neolithic comedy.

Phoned John at Lochans. He's more relaxed these days. He's taking the brood on a drive to Drummore this afternoon.

Had a row with Mum which spoilt dinner _____________.

Had a conversation with Ally who is 'car sitting' for Lynn and Dave and then coming here afterwards. She phoned back in floods of tears at 7:30 saying her car won't start, blaming David for flattening the battery when fixing her cassette player. Ten minutes later she phoned back saying the car was 'burring' and raring to go. She came over at 8:15. Saw the Royal Variety Performance. Ally left at 10:30.

Watched Woody Allen's 'Love and Death'. Hilarious.

-=-

Saturday November 22, 1980

_. Sweat a good deal in the night and dreamt about aliens landing from outer space in the Yorkshire Dales, scurrying into the numerous labyrinths and potholes. Naturally, in my dream I volunteered, along with two skinheads, to pursue the invading aliens into the bowels of the earth to exterminate them, and thereby save the world. I woke up at 9am just as I surfaced from a mossy pothole.

I attempted to eat breakfast [sausages] but it was all too much. I reclined on a sofa like an emaciated Roman senator until David had the good sense to bring me home to Pine Tops at 1 o'clock. Mum and Dad were out so I left a note and climbed into bed. Dad woke me at 6 with a bowl of horrible vegetable soup.

Mum and Dad went out at 8 with Hilda and Tony, Earl Stevens and Betty Hesp to the Wharfedale Gate ~ old time dancing and all that rot. Mum was dreading the experience.

I slept a little longer and then watched 'Dallas' at 9:15 to see who shot J.R. It was Bing Crosby's daughter after all. Back to bed by 11. Tony came into my room in the early hours and assaulted me. He had the cheek to say I might have alcoholic poisoning. Hilda also appeared and gave me a Silver wedding invitation for Christmas Eve.

-=-

Friday November 21, 1980

_. Up at 7 feeling listless. Ate breakfast with Kitten and took a smoke-filled omnibus to the YP. At lunchtime I bought wallpaper, paste and turpentine [for Ally's small bedroom] and I puffed and panted carrying the provisions around town. The latest [Yorkshire] Ripper business makes the YP a hectic, seething spot and I was in no mood to cope with it.

Home at 6. No appetite. Ate fish reluctantly. Took a bath. Collected by Lynn and Dave at 7:30. They took me to Ally's. It was a mistake. She was daubing paint on her bedroom walls and was infuriatingly unsympathetic to my aches and pains which annoyed me. Aren't I always running to her side, oozing comfort, when she is under the weather?

Lynn brought her portable TV and we watched 'Steptoe & Son', the series from 1972, which made me howl. At 10 I could take no more and retired to bed. By now Ally realised I was ill. I lay beneath the sheets shivering and shaking.

-=-

Thursday November 20, 1980

_. State Opening of Parliament. The 33rd wedding anniversary of the Queen and the Duke of Edinburgh.

Over to Ally's at 6 with David B [who collected me from the YP], where we joined Precious and an expanding Lynn. The Bakers are on a strange mission. To sell Lynn's car they have advertised it the Bradford Telegraph & Argus under Ally's phone number and are taking up residence at Sprog Cottage until Saturday in the hope that a Colonial gentleman with £300 to spare will come along. I think it odd. Why not advertise in the Northamptonshire Gazette and go stay with Earl Spencer?

I feel and look exhausted. We dined on leek and onion soup followed by fish and chips and cloudy lager. Listened to tapes until 11. We discussed names for the baby. I attempted to push Charles, and it was pleasantly received. James too. Lynn and Dave returned to Burley having had no enquiries.

I phoned Dave L and asked him to join us at Ally's on Saturday with Sue and Pete. He seemed to like the idea.

To bed at 12 feeling ill. Something is amiss.

-=-

Wednesday November 19, 1980

Ripper: his 13th victim.

_. My cousin Diane is 17 today.

YP: It has been confirmed that the Ripper has claimed his thirteenth victim. Had a frantic day because of this.

Phoned Auntie Mabel at 2 and invited myself [with Ally] to tea on Nov 25. Phoned Ally. She came to see me at 7:30. Dave G phoned to enquire about holiday plans '81. I told him about Ally's resignation from the Belfry and our worries about scraping up the cash for two weeks in Agios Nikolaos. I ended by saying we'll sort something out shortly.

I persuaded Ally to stay the night. I loathe to think of her driving around Bradford when this maniac is on the loose.

-=-

Tuesday November 18, 1980

_. Wet and cold. Dad joined me on my journey to Leeds because he's back at school at the Leeds Police HQ. Poor Jennie didn't open her mouth.

Busy day. A guy from Debrett's, and a so-called expert on the illegitimate lines of descent from King Charles II, reveals in the Daily Express that he's spent weeks researching Lady Diana Spencer's genealogy. I did the same search in a couple of hours. I'd love to work for Debrett's or Burke's Peerage, and be paid for it. Sadly though I didn't go to Lancing, and I'm not related to Sir Winston Churchill, and my surname is not D'Arcy-Mountjoy-Bampfylde-Evans. I don't stand a chance.

A girl has been murdered in Headingley and [Yorkshire] Ripper fears are raised, but not confirmed as yet.

Grace 'bashing' Russell Harty.

I phoned Ally at 4. She has provisionally booked an apartment at Agios Nikolaos, Crete, from June 24, '81, for two weeks. I am astounded at her speed and efficiency. However, when she arrived at 7:30 she looked dejected saying she cannot afford a Greek holiday. Saving money is a bore and a strain, I'd prefer a fortnight in Whitby.

Watched a gruelling play on TV and saw Grace Jones bashing Russell Harty on his pathetic TV chat show.

To bed at 12:30.

-=-

Monday November 17, 1980

Lady Diana: fever grows.

_. Lady Diana Spencer fever grows. I saw her tonight for the first time on TV. The six o'clock news on the BBC showed the poor girl besieged outside her flat, bombarded with questions as she fumbled for her car keys, eventually driving away beaming all over her face. The poor girl. I think this really means business. The morning papers say she was at Sandringham over the weekend. But as a note of caution let us not forget that Sandringham is her birthplace and home, and she has close ties to the Queen. Another bloody red herring? I am trying to view the situation objectively. Mum says they'll be engaged by Thursday, but Dad's opinion is that it will never happen because the Prince of Wales is a confirmed bachelor. Obviously, Dad doesn't know what he's talking about.

YP busy. Carol J left 'with a cold' at 12:30. That is the last we'll see of her until pay day. A new boy on the YP staff, I discover, is the son of the ghastly former Home Secretary, Merlyn Rees, a Leeds MP. We are really scraping the barrel these days. On the subject of MPs it was interesting to see Sir Harold Wilson speaking on 'Panorama' this evening. His opinion is that the Labour party fell to pieces when he resigned the leadership. He described Peter Shore as his 'poodle' and scoffed about Michael Foot. Harold tends to regard himself as a god, I think.

Mum and Dad went to Auntie Mabel's from 6:30-11:30. I half-heartedly watched TV. Lady Diana was on every news bulletin. I like her pleasant demeanour and obvious good mannered gentleness.

I phoned Ally. She was washing and brewing. I offered to buy her a dress. Auntie Hilda phoned for John's address. She is sending out Silver wedding invitations.

To bed at 12:15.

-=-

Sunday November 16, 1980

_. 24th Sunday after Trinity

Breakfast at the Hollywood and then we bid our fond farewells to the Glynns. On to Bradford for 11 where Ally changed into her 'slave-wear' and departed for the Belfry. I made my way to Guiseley and had another breakfast with Mummy.  They [Mum and Dad] were at Giovanni's last night for Jim's birthday.

Received a surprise at 3 when Ally walked in an announced she had resigned from the Belfry and will never set foot in that sinking restaurant again. I think she has failed to see eye to eye with the Ayatollah Hartley for some time. And a new waitress has been rubbing her up the wrong way. That will never do.

Charles: hunting foxes on his birthday.

Later we went to Burley-in-W and the Baker residence. It is months since I visited Lawn Road. The new tiled bathroom is exquisite.

I'm tingling with excitement about an article about Lady Diana Spencer in the Sunday Times. She is reported to have left her London flat on Friday and they say she is at Sandringham for the weekend, but no official statement has appeared. The prince was out hunting foxes on his birthday, and Lady Diana found a parking ticket on her car, in the midst of the press turmoil, at her £100,000 flat.

Bed at 12.

-=-

Saturday November 15, 1980

_. Drizzle, fog, rain. Breakfast at 10. Met by Ally at 11 in the Citroen. Over to Stockport in treacherous conditions arriving at 1pm. Lily's hair is no longer blond - like Mrs Thatcher she's gone 'honeysuckle'.

Off to the Robin Hood pub with Billy Garry and Steve. Drank profusely. They all seem to revere Ally - nay, idolise her. We all do get on extremely well. Back at the Hollywood at 3 Dave played his 'Meatloaf' LP.

Out at 7 with the lads to dinner at 'Steak Kebabs' . I had a 2lb T-bone steak. Ally also had a T-bone, but smaller. Afterwards the merry band returned to the Robin Hood for further lubrication. Argued with the barmaid about who actually shot J.R. Ewing. The fun continued until after 1am.

-=-

Friday November 14, 1980

_. Hideous experience at the dentist. The dentist had great difficulty locating a wisdom tooth. One comment he made was that my tongue is one of the biggest he's encountered.  I choked and spluttered and left the surgery at 6:15. Dreading my next appointment on Dec 1st. He says he will have to inject me in the roof of my mouth to enable him to hit one particular nerve and will have to go away and research the procedure because he hasn't performed such an operation before! Gulp.

Diana: pretty and demure.

Today is the 32nd birthday of the Prince of Wales and the media are eagerly awaiting the announcement of his engagement to Lady Diana Spencer. I have been carrying out further research into Lady Diana's background [for the YP] and have discovered with some pleasure that she was born on the Sandringham estate at Park House [the home of her grandmother, Lady Fermoy] on July 1, 1961. On Aug 30, that year, she was christened at the Church of St Mary Magdalene, Sandringham, by the Bishop of Norwich. I do feel that Lady Diana is the one we have been waiting for and do not think she is too young for the prince. Her connections are impeccable and she's led an unblemished life with no sordid tales of sex that would create a 'field day' for the News of the World. Pretty and demure, she will undoubtedly blossom into something far exceeding her present demeanour. Oh yes, if Charles doesn't go ahead and marry her I feel sure he'll be missing out on a jewel.

-=-

Thursday November 13, 1980

_. Bought steak, cheese and chocolates in my lunch hour and went to Ally's at 6. Joined at 7:30 by Mum and Dad for a dinner party. Prawn cocktails, rump steak, asparagus, celery, followed by cream cake and an assortment of cheese. A delightful evening. Mum seldom eats steak, but found it very enjoyable. Darling Ally did flap and fluster prior to the arrival of the royal party. Dad went upstairs to fix a blind and a curtain rail. He had to earn his supper. Ally looked very pretty in a black dress of Sue's.

Catherine Brook leaves the AHA tomorrow.

-=-

Wednesday November 12, 1980

Foot: winner by 10 votes.

_. In the midst of Tim's 21st birthday celebrations on Monday I quite forgot to comment on Michael Foot's victory in the Labour party leadership stakes. The old boy beat Denis Healey by 10 votes. I am feeling quite gleeful about it. Labour now stands no chance of ever winning a general election with this aged cripple at the helm. My only worry is the thought that Wedgwood Benn is waiting in the wings. At 67 Foot is surely not long for this world.

Took a half day from 12. Joined by Ally at the Ostlers. Then on to get Ally's car taxed for another six months. We marched around Leeds but made no Christmas purchases. On to Pine Tops at 4:30 but the house was deserted. Mum and Dad are out for the day in the Dales. We ate pork chops by candlelight. Mum and Dad were back at 9 clowning around in the kitchen like a courting couple. Jim and Margaret came at 9:30 and we all watched a film of President Kennedy's assassination which was excellent. The man who played Jack Ruby is something of a comedian. To bed at 12.

-=-

Tuesday November 11, 1980

Gustav Adolf: party in Shipley.

_.Union news: Our trouble with the M.O.C. is resolved. I have agreed to pay my union subs but NOT the political levy included in the weekly subscription. The flustered M.O.C exclaimed: 'It's only a penny a week, you know?' To which I replied: 'Ah, but it's the principle of the thing.' I refuse to subsidise the lifestyle of Ron Leighton, MP. I'd prefer my 1p to go to Norman St John Stevas or young Winston Churchill.

Home at 5. Dined with Mama and Papa. Ally came at 9. We went to the Elmer disco in Shipley at 10 to the 98th birthday party for King Gustav Adolf of Sweden. In reality it's an orgy organized by Chris Mackenzie, and he desperately wanted an excuse to celebrate. Why not an Armistice Party? I did point out to Chris that King Gustav Adolf died in 1973, but this did not hinder the celebration.  We huddled in a corner. Carol J, Pauline, Tony Harney, Helen of Troy, Chris Mackenzie, &c. The bar closed at 1am and we returned to Club St.

-=-

Monday November 10, 1980

_. To the dentist at 5pm for a couple of x-rays. A complete waste of time really. I was amused by a poster in the waiting room showing a fox idly reading 'Horse and Hound', surrounded by hounds similarly engaged.

Ally collected me at 5:30 in Rawdon and we went on to Pine Tops for dinner. Ally collected a dress from Sue's and we headed off to Tong arriving at the King's at 9:15. Jill and Tim were there with Tim's enormous brother. Tim and Jill are good company. At 10:30 we went on to see Auntie Hilda and Uncle Tony, both subdued. On to Club St at 12. Tore wallpaper from the walls in the spare bedroom.

-=-

Sunday November 9, 1980

_. 23rd Sunday after Trinity. Remembrance Sunday

A day buried beneath mounds of festering wallpaper and paste at Rue Club. Ally was at the Belfry and left me alone until 3. Finished the bedroom at 7. Heinz tomato soup and bread.

Back to Pine Tops. Ally only managed a cup of tea before returning to the Belfry. Mum and Dad had a very exciting day. Earl Stephens, an old friend from the deep past, who has been in New Zealand since 1958, suddenly appeared on our doorstep this morning. Unfortunately, Dad was out beating up innocent members of the public and didn't see him, but Earl returned at 7:30. Spent the night chatting about old times. By 11 I was like a zombie and escaped to bed leaving Mr Stephens expounding his ideas for a revolutionary shower partition. Slept immediately, and deeply.

-=-

Saturday November 8, 1980

_. Up at 11 for bacon and eggs. To Ally's at 12 and found her cleaning. Decorate the bedroom until 5. Daubing paste &c.

Went into Bradford at 5 and bought Tim a T-shirt and a birthday card. Ate fish and chips in newspaper like ravenous fiends.

Bathed in the luxury of the green bathroom, listening to Ally throwing a tantrum about her clothes - or lack of them. On to Pudsey at 8:30 and then  we all - the whole mob - went to the King's Arms in Tong for refreshment. I wore a tie pin which created a minor sensation for some reason. Ally really gets on well with Diane. Sue and Pete are uncertain about a holiday next year, but we are considering our plans in earnest. Lynn was lovely all in black. Back to Wilsby [6, St James's Crescent] at 11. I was pissed and fell on a poor woman splattering her with pizza and potato salad. Tony was becoming quite malevolent to Peter, who clowned around in a punch bowl. Auntie Mabel was the only surprise guest.

Back to Rue Club at 3am.

-=-

Friday November 7, 1980

_. Sarah's birthday. Out to Da Mario's at 12 for a joyful celebration. Just Sarah, Shazzo, Carol J, and Marilyn. Ate lasagne but felt hungry afterwards. Walked back to the YP minus Sarah, who took a half day. Called at a travel agents and collected some books for the next summer season. Shazzo says Agios Nikolaos on Crete is 'lively' and 'my scene'. Sarah's Lindos on Rhodes sounds starchy and old. You know I like noise, debauchery, dissipation and booze.

Home at 6. Read 'Caligula' by William Howard. Truly a foul, evil volume of perversion if ever I saw one.

In the space of two days I've been thoroughly brainwashed into thinking  Ronald Reagan isn't such a bad guy. His elder brother, Neil, is quoted as saying he cannot understand why 'Junior wants to run America'. To bed at nearly 12.

-=-

Thursday November 6, 1980

Caligula.

_. Horribly wet. On to Leeds by bus with Mac [Alan Macgregor], he's a Bradfordian, you know. He gave me a potted history of the Bradford public transport organisation.

Out at 12 to Len's Bar with Ally and a 'rosy' Lynn. Ate pate and toast and put back a few lagers. This was the enjoyable part because at 2 I was dragged out by the frenzied women to the bustling shops. Lynn bought maternity dresses and hideous, sail-like undergarments. I browsed amongst the books. I bought 'Caligula' by William Howard, which proves to be a hair-raising account of this lurid era in Roman history. Another bit of erotica for my bottom shelf. We bought JPH and Catherine's presents from Santa Claus. Home at 6:30 cold, tired and penniless.

Too exhausted to go out. Jim and Margaret came at 9 and we sat with them. The call of bed was too strong.

The little girl next door, Claire, plays he recorder day and night, and it's always the same tune ~ 'Go and Tell Aunt Nancy'. I've heard it 48,000,000 times.

-=-

Wednesday November 5, 1980

_. I retired to bed at 3am and climbed out again at 6:45 to watch the election programme on the BBC. Reagan has won everywhere, and Carter is left with only Georgia, his home state. Mrs Thatcher will be rubbing her hands with glee but I cannot help feeling wary about this clapped out old actor. Mind you, I said some pretty loathsome things about Jimmy Carter in '76, but changed my opinion of him.

Princess Anne: another baby.

Reagan is the oldest person to have been elected president of the US. A couple were elected aged 65 back in the last century, but Ronald will be 70 on February 6. I have always thought that Kennedy was the youngest president, 43 at his inauguration, but Teddy Roosevelt was only 42 at his in 1901.

It was announced this afternoon that Princess Anne is expecting another child in May. Carol laughed when I suggested Lady Diana Spencer might make it three.

Ally came over at 8 and we went to Leeds. Elaine, she says, has confided in Lynn that poor Billy is definitely 'queer'. How very perceptive of her.

To the Bank wine bar opposite the Town Hall. Bohemian types sinking bottles of wine. Joined by Graham and Gill at 10:15. They are getting married on March 28, and spending their honeymoon in Morocco. How can they do such a thing after the shoddy treatment King Hassan gave to the Queen last week? On to Rue Club and a Chinese take-away. To bed very late.

-=-

Tuesday November 4, 1980

_. Nothing at the YP. Graham Dixon phoned me at about 11pm enquiring after the whereabouts of Ally. I told him she would be in bed ignoring the phone. He and Gill are coming to Leeds on business [delivering programmes to the Grand Theatre] tomorrow and want to meet for lunch or a drink. Hell, I have no money.

Ronald Reagan: landslide.

A day of elections. I am writing now at 1:35am on November 5, and I have to report that Ronald Reagan has won a landslide victory in the US presidential election. Or so it seems anyway. I am watching the BBC live from the USA, and they are predicting this victory and are never wrong. Oh, God. Get out the gas masks, Ethel. The American broadcasting networks are reeling at the news. No sitting president has been ejected after only one term of office since Hoover in 1933. If only Carter had done something about Iran in '78 when the Shah began to have trouble. Had he shown some foresight he wouldn't be now sitting in the White House with tear stained cheeks. All this leaves me with sweat on my brow and stains of a muddy hue in my undergarments. Russia bashin' is bloody dangerous. Blimey, it could all be over by Christmas, and by 'all over' I refer to the world!

The other election taking place today was at Westminster where a man called Healey has won the first ballot in the election for a new leader of the Labour party. This means nothing. I have watched a man called Foot waving his walking stick at TV cameras and beaming merrily. Can nobody have told him?

I must remember to tell Ally about Graham, when I make my dawn alarm call. She's bound to panic because she is penniless and almost destitute and you know how Graham loves his greasy take-aways and gallons of ale.

It's now 1:50am and I am looking at David Dimbleby and wondering whether or not to switch off. Oh dear.

-=-

Monday November 3, 1980

_. Mum phoned me at the office. They are going to Lynn and Dave's for dinner. My dinner, a fish pie, will be in the oven. I found it warming at 6pm. Ally arrived at 7:45 looking vivacious with her hair gathered on top of a new enchanting fringe. We sat for a couple of hours like a long established couple. She looked at the newspapers, breaking off to giggle at 'Not the Nine O'clock News'. At 10:30, both feeling weak with hunger, we bought fish and chips. I am a growing boy. She left me at 11 to avoid the horror bits on Barry Norman's 'Film 80'. Switched off and retired to bed at 11:30.

Denis Healey: party leader?

Princess Michael of Kent is expecting her second child in April. Only last week I was expressing my impatience to Carol J that Her Most Catholic Royal Highness wasn't playing the game. Lord Frederick, her first, will be two on April 6. Perhaps this will now inspire Princess Anne, because the Royal Family tends to produce offspring in twos and threes.

Two elections tomorrow: [1] The Labour party leadership, and [2] the US presidential elections. If Healey and Reagan win these I will become a Benedictine Monk and wear rough sacking next to my flesh for the remainder of my days.

-=-

Sunday November 2, 1980

_. 22nd Sunday after Trinity

It's done Ally so much good throwing a party because everyone pays such lavish complements to Sprog Hall. The enchantment with 5, Club Street is widespread. Up at 10:30 gasping for water. Billy, who had slept in a chair all night, looked half dead, clutching a cigarette. Dave G the only one showing signs of life.

To Guiseley at 1pm. Drop in on Sue and Pete who are fitting a new sink unit. We left them working and went to the White Cross. We left Billy sleeping in the car underneath a sleeping bag. Afterwards, with Billy still indisposed in the car, we went to Pine Tops for an hour so that Dave could see Mum. We sat like geriatrics watching an ancient American film.

The lads left for Stockport at 4. Ally anmd I are going over on November 15 for dinner at Steak Kebabs, at Cheadle Hulme [?].

Royal news: The Queen has received terrible treatment from Morocco's insane King Hassan on her recent state visit to that 'tin pot' monarchy. The mad man refused to keep any schedule and frequently disrupted or held up the Queen's programme.

It is rumoured in one of the papers that Lady Diana Spencer has recently visited Highgrove, the home of the Prince of Wales. HRH gave Lady Diana a guided tour of his new country retreat. Ding dong.

Ghastly news: Michael Foot is going to be the next leader of the Labour party. Of this I am quite certain. And, my doubts that Ronald Reagan would be elected president of the USA are fading rapidly. I can hardly believe that the American people could be so bloody stupid as to give a mandate to this 70 year-old, dyed haired actor. Who'll be standing in 1984? Kennedy v. Telly Savalas, or will it be George Burns?

Watched a Dennis Potter play. Ally stayed the night. Bed at 12:30.

-=-

Saturday November 1, 1980

_. Cold. To Bradford at lunchtime with Ally on a shoe buying expedition. After three hours we emerged from a shop with a pair costing £18. She is desperately low on footwear and this, I fear, is only the beginning.

With Jill and Tim to the Bod at 8 meeting Dave G, Garry, Billy, Denise Akroyd, Chris Ratcliffe, Dave L, Jacq, Paul, Chris & Audrey Rycroft, Lynn, Dave, Sue, Pete, Dave & Elaine Allinson, &c.

Elaine Allinson and Dave B.

Ally on top form doing the rounds and chatting with everyone. She is more sociable than me. Back at the house. Dave L danced and was killer wearing Ally's shower cap. Billy gave a brilliant one man performance stripped to the waist. Garry, on his return from the Bod, collapsed and was carried to bed. Elaine was a great addition to the party. It all fizzled out at at about 2:30. Sue wasn't on top form because she had suffered a fall in the Crown, and was in some pain. Chippy and Deborah came to the Bod but never made it back to the house. A good thing really because Lynn can be violent where he is concerned. Bed at 3-ish.

-=-

Friday October 31, 1980

_. Left Ally at 8 and made my way to Leeds. She has decided to stay at home and splash gloss paint on her bathroom. Why should she enslave herself to that twisted Welsh fiend at Bradford AHA?

I phoned her several times throughout the day for bulletins on the bathroom progress and received favourable reports. The paint was winning 7-0 at half time.

Ally came over for a candlelit dinner with Mama and Papa. Dad related some amusing anecdotes about his old sergeant in Goldthorpe, Horace Jacobs.

Out to the Shoulder at 8:30 . Met Sue, Pete, Gerald and Debbie. I felt a cold coming on. Like a bronchil pug. Escaped the smoke-filled pub and the two us went to the Drop, where I had three large, medicinal whiskies with the approval of Jean Hanson. They had the effect of a cloud lifting from my brow.

Home in a stupor. The hideous Esther Rantzen on a chat show. Mum says Denise visited me the other evening when we were Flexitexing. What can this mean?

To bed with Clementine Churchill.

-=-

Thursday October 30, 1980

_. Sarah and I refused to pay our union subs and stand defiant in the face of death. However, inspecting my contract [signed as recently as May] I see that I am virtually hog-tied to NATSOPA. Jim Rawnsley begged me to reconsider because he knows only too well just how vindictive trade unions can be. It might take them years, he says, but in the end they will find a way of getting rid of me.

To Lidget Green at 6. Paint the bathroom green. We went to the Bod for the last hour. We discussed Catherine Brook _______. Fish and chips afterwards but encountered a thug embossed in tattoos, and blessed with a flowery command  of our rich language. I escaped with my fish and me life.

Back to Ally's. Re-arranged the sitting room and squabbled until nearly 3am.

-=-

Wednesday October 29, 1980

_. The YP Library staff all received letters from the M.O.C. [Mother of the Chapel] Miss P. McKone, reminding us of our huge arrears with our NATSOPA subs and informs us that in three weeks time we will be sacked if we haven't paid up. The union is in no position to threaten and I am blazing with rage. This means war, or certainly resignation from the odious NATSOPA.

On to Club Street at 12. I flooded the bathroom whilst attempting to remove a radiator. I did have doubts about this all along.  Ally had hysterics. She went out for the afternoon and I finished the wallpapering. Quite a favourable attempt. We dined at 6:30 and I continued decorating until 10. Drove to Pine Tops afterwards.

Dave G phoned at 7. He is definitely coming on Saturday, but he and the lads are dining at the Georgian Restaurant first. It's s Saturday tradition that cannot be broken.

-=-

Tuesday October 28, 1980

_.To Bradford at 6 where Lynn and Dave arrived for dinner shortly afterwards. Ally is an imaginative cook. We ate heartily. Dave and I then made for the bathroom where he daubed the ceiling in something called Flexitex, which is quite ingenious. Within a couple of hours he'd progressed to the bedroom and successfully daubed on that ceiling too. We are pleased with the result.

Afterwards we sat by candlelight listening to Elgar and Rachmaninov, until almost 12.

Lynn looks remarkable and almost 'unpregnant' in her work trousers. She'd come for a slog with the decorating but had spent the evening chatting with Ally. The howls of laughter penetrated our activities upstairs.

Dave demonstrated the ease with which one can remove a radiator from a wall, so that I can hang wallpaper in the bathroom tomorrow. Plumbing and I just do not harmonize.

To bed at 12, feeling tired. The Flexitex makes everything smell of amonia.

-=-

Monday October 27, 1980

_. Bank Holiday in the Irish Republic

Horribly wet. Floods are reported throughout the country. I'm cracking on building an ark.

Wrote numerous letters, including to Ally, and walked in the drizzle at lunchtime to escape the office. Sarah says she isn't coming to my party on Saturday, and for the remainder of the day conversation is clipped.

I phoned Ally at 4. She is brewing tonight.

Sizeable dinner at 6:15 and afterwards tuned into Radio 4 to hear Doris Archer breathe her last. Quite a giggle.

Lady Diana and Mrs Parker Bowles.

Watched 'Panorama' dealing with Governor Ronald Reagan. An astute Democrat is recorded as saying: "You could walk through Governor Reagan's deepest thoughts and not get your feet wet." I think this is a marvellous summing up of this ageing, dyed-haired cowboy. Carter is bad, but Ronald Reagan is an out right danger and a threat.

The Prince of Wales and Lady Diana Spencer have been seen in public - racing at Ludlow. Obviously, romance is being denied, but I suspect the opposite. They spent the weekend with Maj Andrew and Mrs Parker Bowles.

To bed at 11:30 with Clementine Churchill.

-=-

Sunday October 26, 1980

_. 21st Sunday after Trinity - British Summer Time Ends

Up at 11. Ally went off to do her bit [at the Belfry].  I sat reading Clementine Churchill by Mary Soames. I could see Mum laughing at me, and although she didn't actually say so I knew she was thinking I look like my grandfather, Albert Rhodes. It's the way I hold a book. He used to sit buried behind large volumes, usually to avoid conversation. I tried not to cross my legs in the way that he did, but after a few pages I found myself doing so.

Erroll Flynn.

Suki and Pete paid us a visit and we watched a short Peter Sellers film followed by 'The Private Life of Elizabeth and Essex', a 1939 film starring Bette Davis and Erroll Flynn. Peter and I made the usual bawdy jokes about Erroll Flynn. In one scene the actor is straddling a horse, and the comment was made that they must have made a special saddle to hold the actor and his 'protrusion'. Nothing like a nice, vulgar Sunday afternoon.

I continued to read about Clem. She and Sir Winston wrote some remarkable love letters. Quite revealing.

Michael Foot will be the next Labour leader. The man will of course have us completely disarmed if her ever becomes PM.

Took to my bed at 10:45, and read until after 12.

Saturday October 25, 1980

The new album by the Police.

_. Felt very ill. Up at 8:30am. To the shops. Bought paint and wallpaper, and I added a glut of presents, to say sorry for my appalling behaviour. Flowers, Elgar's 'Enigma Variations', including Pomp and Circumstance and 'Nimrod' and all that, plus the new Police album.

Gulped down handfulls of pills to kill the pain in my brain. However, I did manage to undercoat the bathroom and the bedroom. Dark Green and a subtle off white. Oh dear.

At 6:30 we went to Pine Tops for dinner with Mama and Papa. Rabbit. Tired, by the cosy fire, but all the same we dragged ourselves out to join Susie and Pete at the White Cross. On to the Fox & Hounds, then the New Inn. Sue had ale poured all over her at the latter, and so we moved to the Drop. Jean Hanson is fatter, and redder, and back from foreign parts. She looks at me in a different light now that she knows I am related to Constable Rhodes. To Sue & Pete's afterwards, and home at 12. Buggered, not literally.

-=-

Friday October 24, 1980

_. United Nations Day

Dismal, again. Home at 6 to an empty abode. Pete arrived to take me to Lynn and Dave's where Mum and Dad are taking tea. I sent him packing, telling him I'm going to a party.

Phoned Ally and then Dave L.  He agreed, to my great surprise, to accompany me to Grant McKee's party, because I know how Dave is strongly opposed to supping into the early hours and in distant and unfamiliar surroundings. He went to Sherburn-in-Elmet to buy three rabbits  for school and then picked me up at 9. We bought wine and cider and went to the Eagle on North Street. Met Carol J, Pauline, Helen, Penny and Shazzo, and Shazzo's Irish boyfriend. A comical evening. Drank Timothy Taylor's ale, and the 'prawn man' provided the cockles and mussels. The pub closed at 10:30. I have always thought that the pubs in Leeds opened until 11, and was aghast at the ringing bells and flashing lights.

With Grant McKee at Brown's.

On to the party in a rambling terraced house off Cardigan Road. Gallons of wine and ears filled with the Rolling Stones, in the midst of many strange faces. It was touching to see the way that the YP contingent of revellers all huddled together near the fireplace. Penny Wark, Helen Scott, Carol J, Tony Harney, &c. Dave thoroughly enjoyed himself. He joked with Shazzo about her drinking vintage German wines. [She's Jewish, you know]. By 2 I was sozzled and Dave must have persuaded me to leave. We found ourselves in Bradford, where I banged furiously on Ally's door and then spewed up. She tried to undress me, but failed miserably. I fell asleep on the top of the bed.

-=-

Thursday October 23, 1980

_. Cold, wet, &c. YP dull. Kathleen is off with Legionaire's Disease.

Cleese: Petruchio.

Ally came at 7:30 and we sat in deckchairs in the dining room watching John Cleese play Petruchio in The Taming of the Shrew. I fully expected a 16th century version of Basil Fawlty but was presently surprised. We had thought of going to 'Time and Place' but at 10:30 we were too comfortable and couldn't be bothered uprooting ourselves. We joined Mum and Dad with Jim and Margaret, and retired at about 11, or was it 12?

Margaret told us, in quiet tones, that Pamela's boyfriend is a divorcee with three sons. She sounded embarrassed at having to mention it.

Ally is gorgeous, you know. I fear she has to stand a good deal of nonsense and bother from me because basically she is serious and sensible. It must be trying for her. When will it be wedding bells do you think? It's only a matter of time because we have reached the point where marriage is the obvious next step to take. Yes, we are at the abyss. The great crossroads are ahead, with a long road beyond, and a dual carriageway at that.

-=-

Wednesday October 22, 1980

_. Dark, damp, misty. Up at 7:10 with Dad. He went off to Otley to guard prisoners who would otherwise be left to their own devices owing to a prison officers 'go slow'.

To Leeds with Jim who, for two days now, has been relating the tale of 'Les Miserables' to little Jennie.

Aghast at the news that Lord Thomson of Fleet is selling The Times newspaper next year. This must be a death warrant for this fine newspaper. I am grief stricken. Before long we'll have nothing but 'The Sun'.

Sarah is miserable these days. ____________. Chippy saw her in the Shoulder last Thursday. _____.

Home at 6. Mama and I had dinner by candlelight, and Dad, the jailer, joined us just as we finished. Later, sat clutching Clementine Churchill, I was brought from my stupor by sweet Ally on the blower informing me that she needed to see me immediately. She arrived at 7:45 and out we went to the New Inn at 9:30. Our departure was delayed due to Prokoviev on the telly, with the added attraction of Princess Michael of Kent, who was briefly in view. George Howard, of the BBC, resembles a paraplegic toad.

To the New Inn at 9:30 with £2.60 in my pocket, but this went within half an hour. I was reduced to drinking half pints. Ally was treated [sic] to a packet of roast oxen crisps.

Home at 10:30 to see John Cleese interviewed by Michael Parkinson. He is playing Petruchio tomorrow and I cannot help feeling this might be a mistake. Will it be a 16th century Fawlty Towers?

-=-

Tuesday October 21, 1980

Clementine Churchill.

_. Went to the Central library and fell victim to another book on the Windsors. I also got Mary Soames's biography of her mother Clem, and Thomas Hardy's 'The Trumpet Major'. It's about time I looked at some great works of 19th century fiction because in this area I am greatly ignorant. Dickens has been unable to worm his way in and as for Trollope I once picked up a Palliser novel and put it down again immediately.

I phoned Ally a couple of times. She refused to answer at 8 and I eventually gave the thing up as a bad job. We have decided to go to 'Time and Place' on Thursday.

Eileen and Michael brought baby Philip into the YP today. The usual blue-eyed bundle.

Dave G phoned tonight to discuss the '81 holiday. Ought we to be booking? I broke into a cold sweat at the thought of it. Ally will die when I say it's time to think about holidays. I expect fireworks of George Frederick Handel proportions. Dave didn't see the Duchess of Gloucester yesterday on her visit to Stepping Hill.

Sat reading about Clementine Churchill. I've said odious things about her in the past especially when she died and it was revealed she destroyed the Graham Sutherland portrait of Sir Winston, and I will not withdraw any comments until I finish the book. However, up to 1908 she seems quite a decent fellow.

Mum frightened me by announcing that Wedgwood Benn is to run [for Labour leader]. This isn't so. Cold sweat trickled down my brow.

Took a bath at 11. Bed with Clem at 11:15.

-=-

Monday October 20, 1980

_. Damp and misty. Cowered beneath my sheets until after 7:30. To Leeds with Jim, Jennie and Donald Best. A raving little quartet. Gloomy day. Spoke to Ally who moaned about lack of money for her proposed decorating onslaught. It seems that her walls are to be bare indefinitely. It'll be like the Chateau d'If in Lidget Green. I posted a letter on similar lines to my diminutive lover.

Lady Barnett: suicide.

Lady [Isobel] Barnett, an ancient TV personality, fined for shoplifting on Thursday, has been found dead in her bath after committing suicide. It is a pity that people feel they have no option but to die after being found with 87p worth of stolen groceries concealed upon their person. Guilt is such a peculiar thing.

In other news: the Queen has been left a Louis XIV clock in the will of Sir Michael Duff. The half-crazed Michael Foot has joined the Labour leadership battle. He now stands against Peter Shore, John Silkin and Denis Healey. The old boy will be 70 before the next general election, but I believe he will become leader of the party despite this drawback. I'll eat my hat if Denis Healey beats him, I really will.

Home at 5:30. Mum's hair is better. She looks younger with it shaggy. Roast pork and Yorkshire pudding. Had a hot bath, and unlike Isobel Barnett I survived. At 9 I took to the dining room and watched 'Les Miserables', a recent film based on Victor Hugo's gripping novel. I have rarely used my new TV because I feel anti-social leaving Mum and Dad and sitting in another room. However, tonight I could not face the Monday evening 'movie' of the nymphomania and alcoholism problems facing a New York housewife.

Lynn phoned. She;s convinced her baby will come before April 4. A friend due to give birth on the same day is much smaller.

-=-

Sunday October 19, 1980

_. 20th Sunday after Trinity

Up at 10:30. Made lashings of tea for the inmates. Ally dashed off in Andre Citroen to the Belfry. [We have changed the car's name to Andre from Charles, because the founder of the Citroen Car Co was Andre Citroen]. Breakfast with Mama and Papa. They talked about Norfolk. My mother's hairdresser really should be assassinated. Someone should phone Jack Ruby. Is he deceased?

Mum and Dad messed around in the kitchen with a sack of Arthur's cauliflowers. I sat grinning to myself. Last night Ally and I had an attack of giggling, really serious giggling. _______. She came at 3:15 and we watched Peter Sellers in 'Only Two Can Play' - a very funny film. She went back to the Belfry at 6:30.

Queen: Dowdy.

Her Majesty the Queen , on a State visit to Italy, has met the Pope. She visited the Papal See as Princess Elizabeth in 1951 meeting Pope Pius, and visited Pope John XXIII in 1961, but that wasn't a state visit. Dowdy, wearing a black mantilla, she resembled Queen Victoria.

Saturday October 18, 1980

Oliver Twist.

_. Sunny, bright, but cold. Up at 10 for another large, grilled breakfast. Pine Tops is taking on the aura of Marlborough House in the days of Albert Edward, Prince of Wales.

Afterwards we went to Yeadon to buy more bacon and orange juice. Back to the liquid delights of the New Inn. A pleasant few hours propping up the bar. Saw Tony Briggs and Peter Phillips. At 3 we returned home to find Sue and Pete drinking beer and watching John Howard Davies in 'Tom Brown's Schooldays'. They left shortly afterwards. Ally and I made an omelette, and watched 'Oliver Twist', also starring John Howard Davies. Some old films are such tear jerkers.

We clowned around in my wardrobe looking for something for Ally to wear, and at 7:45 we went to the Malt Shovel in Menston. Margaret Nason's sister, Phyllis, works behind the bar. On to the Shoulder to meet Gus, Dave W, Mick Thingy, Debbie, Chippy. No sign of Sue and Pete. At 9:30, at Chippy's suggestion, we all went to Platform One, a newly opened hostelry, on the site of an old railway station at Pannal. Too crowded. I put my pint down on a table to have it swiped by the landlord when I was relieving myself in the gents. Not a very pleasant experience. Back to the New Inn in Guiseley for 10:30. Marian and Maura were there with Rick Hartley. I invited them to the party on Nov 1. Also saw Martyn & Fay Cole.  Home at 11:30.

-=-

Friday October 17, 1980

_. Wet, dark and dismal. Up at 6:30 and cooked a massive breakfast for Ally and I. You know, bacon, eggs, sausages and beans, preceded by cornflakes, and followed by lashings of hot tea. Dave Lee Travis on Radio One. He is appalling. I am growing old and conservative [with a small 'c' of course. Everyone knows I am a Conservative with a big 'c'].

At the office I phoned Ally a few times. Catherine has found another job. Poor girl. Ally phoned me twice, once at 3, and again at 6:30. In the latter call she asked me to think of something to get her off working at the Belfry. How about a broken neck?

Phoned Dave L twice. The first time he was out. He is going to Gloucester tomorrow to stay with a Tony. In the political section of our chat he declared that Peter Shore is a worthless drip who doesn't stand a cat in Hell's chance of leading the Opposition. Denis Healey is such an obvious choice I have every faith he will be defeated. Personally I'd like to see the former broadcaster Austin Mitchell at the helm.

Sue and Pete.

Spoke to Susie [I also spoke to her yesterday. She was going to the White Cross with Janet and Audrey]. She and Pete agreed to collect me at 8:45 and befriend me for a couple of hours in a local hostelry. I sat waiting, quite alone, listening to Wagner's 'Ride of the Valkyries' to keep me company. They picked me up at 9 and we went to the Shoulder of Mutton. Joined by Gerald and Deborah. On to the Cross and met Chris and Audrey Rycroft. Finally to the New Inn, where we found Gus, Dave W and Ken. Home at 11:30. Ally arrived at midnight.

-=-

Thursday October 16, 1980

_. I spoke to Dave G the other day, and forgot to mention. He's coming on Nov 1, with Garry, Billy and Steve. He had hoped to come tomorrow but the Duchess of Gloucester is making a visit to Stepping Hill Hospital and he has to be there to receive HRH. Poor woman.

Ally came here at 6:30 for fish fingers and three tons of potatoes. What will become of us? Ally looked good, with her hair sticking out in all directions. Half close your eyes, dim and lights and what do you have? Kate Bush.

An expanding Lynn and bad-tempered Dave came at 8:30 and we went to the Commercial, which is a hole. So boring. We sat eavesdropping on three middle-aged mothers on the next table discussing the trials and tribulations of Christmas shopping. On to the New Inn, where Lynn and Dave looked out of place. David insisted on referring to the place as a 'knocking shop'. The place is always full of ex-cons, but a Bohemian atmosphere prevailed throughout.

Home at 11. We sprawled on the dining room floor drinking wine and listening to Strauss until 2:30.

-=-

Wednesday October 15, 1980

Sally Oppenheim: double life?

_. Sunny, Wednesday. James Callaghan is resigning as Labour leader to enable him to undergo treatment preparing for a sex-change operation after Christmas. It seems that for some years he's been enjoying a double life masquerading as both the bluff Left-wing Labour sea dog, and as the peroxide blond Sally Oppenheim, Minister for Prices and Consumer Affairs. You have never seen them in the same room together. He really had me fooled.

Ally arrived at 6 and we ate soup. [Or do you drink soup?] This was followed by fried liver and onions and mounds of chips. To much really. Spoke to Lynn, and arranged to go out with them tomorrow.

Later, the two of us took the couch for an evening of gripping TV. Coronation Street, a play, and a programme about a large, flaccid transsexual preparing for a sex-change operation. I made some derogatory comments, at which Ally raised her eyebrows and cast her eyes to the large pair of stiletto heeled shoes that I'd worn only days before. My drag act at a fancy dress dress party is a different matter.

To bed in the region of 12.

-=-

Tuesday October 14, 1980

_. Bright Tuesday.

Phoned Mama. They left for Diss early this morning.

To Ally's at 6 for dead rabbit stew.  Joined at 8:30 by Catherine Brook, and the recumbent David, who immediately fell asleep on the sofa. Her really threw himself into the 'dead man lying on the floor' routine. I sat clutching a glass whilst Ally and Catherine pored over some of my photo albums dating back to 1971, Boring, and quite embarrassing at times. I write very revealing picture captions. It is Ally's theory that I have a different album for each of my 'bits of stuff'. They left at 12, and we had a much needed drink. ________.

To bed at about 1.

Monday October 13, 1980

Beloved Führer ?

_. Monday. Ally came to see me and we sat huddled on the settee watching the telly. What else? It helps when a diarist has total powers of recall, but alas my powers have dried tonight. Ally left at 10:30, and I departed immediately to my chamber where I scowled angrily at my alarm clock which is refusing to work properly. It rings at a time of its own choosing and has developed an irregular tick.

Mrs Thatcher, our beloved Führer, is 55 today. However, it now seems that everyone regrets voting her into power. It's hard to find anyone who backs her. Even Cabinet ministers are red faced and cowering. A sign of the times. And, what is happening to the Labour party? Will Sir Alfred Broughton [Batley & Morley] succeed 'Sunny Jim' ?

Did you know that Michael Bentine once almost had a leg amputated because of a thrombosis? Dreadful, eh?