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.

-=-