Thursday January 8, 1981

 _. Princess Alice, Countess of Athlone was buried at Frogmore today. Her daughter looks older than she did.

To Ally's from the YP at 5. The bus was packed with smokers puffing out clouds of smoggy effluence. A real 'pea souper' in fact. Ally made a rabbit stew and we ate by candlelight. We rarely speak at these dinners. She cooks and I listen to the radio, and then we eat and look at each other across the table.

Afterwards we went to the Bod, vibrating to the sound of its juke box. We stood in the top bar looking down on the main body of the revellers. ____________. Back to Ally's at 10:30. Thought of going to Oakwood Hall, but didn't. Bed before 2.

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Wednesday January 7, 1981

 _. Tired and hungover all day. Up at 7:45 and out at 8. I told Ally I would give her a ring [in more ways than one], and she giggled.

Already I'm quite sick of the Ripper news. The Solicitor-General has criticised certain organs of the press for naming Sutcliffe before he had been charged. Let's face it, he'll never have a fair trial anyway.

The Daily Mail Dempster column says that Lady Diana [Spencer] may not be in the Klosters skiing party next month, and goes on to say that Charles's ardour for Lady D is waning. Oh God, has another one bitten the dust?

Spoke to Ally at 12. We both agreed that last night's proposal or the acceptance thereof was not made because of excess alcohol intake and we both stick to our guns. Knee knocking isn't it?

Home at 6 for dinner. Thirsty all night. Must be dehydration. Watched a bit of TV, climbed the stairs at 9:15 and hit the sack. Christmas has really taken it's toll.

Kathleen has been off since Wednesday. Her father is dying of a brain tumour.

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Tuesday January 6, 1981

 _. Epiphany. New Moon.

Rain and snow. Took Thomas Hardy back to the Central Library. I just have not had time to look at him.

Phoned Ally. She agreed to come over tonight. She bought new trousers and a pullover today. The girl's a spendthrift. Phoned Dave L at 7. He's a bit of fun. Ally came clad in blue at 8 and by 8:30 we were in the Fox & Hounds. Bumped int George Waite, and he stayed with us for the evening. He is a lecherous bounder. _____. Ally was Little Red Riding Hood to George's wolf. Or was it a fox?

Saw Jim and Margaret with Julie celebrating her 17th birthday. Bought the girl a drink. Jim's eyes lit up when I told him I have a photostat of [Peter] Sutcliffe showing him sat at the wheel of his lorry. He'll see it on Thursday. 

On to the Hare. John, Maria, Dave L, Christine Dibb, Graham Airey, Chris Rat, Pete Mather, Carol Smith and husband, Andy and Linda Graham, &c. A pleasant chat with old friends over a few pints..... Or that's how it should have been. Ally and I then went to Ridgeway with John and Maria until 1.

In bed tonight I proposed marriage to Ally. This isn't a new thing. We take it in turns to spasmodically propose marriage to each other, but tonight was quite the most serious attempt to date. I was accepted and now the only thing to do is decide upon a date. June is nice.

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Monday January 5, 1981

 _.The Yorkshire Ripper [Peter William Sutcliffe, born June 2, 1945], a Bradford man, was charged, at Dewsbury police station, with Jacqueline Hill's murder this evening. A mob exceeding 2,000 thronged the streets shouting abuse, and behaving likes wolves. It hasn't sunk in yet. Quite amazing. The Ripper has been at the forefront of our lives, hanging over our every move, since '75, and now we know he's a 'respectable' chap from the Bradford suburb of Heaton who wouldn't say 'boo to a goose'. Jim Rawnsley reckons that Mrs Ripper will easily make £250,000 out of the case. Obviously, Sutcliffe isn't an engineer with a Tyneside accent, and neither does he stutter or have a gap in his front teeth. I imagine George Oldfield will be having a skinful tonight. Busy day at the YP, naturally. Home at 6.

Stick photos into my new album. John and Maria walked round from Ridgeway at 9 and sat until 1am. Mum departed suddenly to her chambers at 11. Maria informed me that an 'old style' gathering is taking place at the Hare & Hounds tomorrow at which my presence is a necessity. I've no money, but agreed to go.

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Sunday January 4, 1981

 _. 2nd Sunday after Christmas

Slept late again. Ally's delicate condition has made her an invalid. Our breakfast took place in the early hours of the afternoon. She took tea and bread and butter and I had kippers.

A sunny, cold day. In the afternoon we helped Mum prepare for tonight's 'home movie show' party at which scores of relations are once again to put in an appearance.

John, Maria and the children descended upon us in the afternoon. They were at a party last night at Tony Brotherwood's. Catherine alters by the hour and is a gorgeous character, endowed with charm and cunning.

At 6:30 Marlene, Frank, Auntie Mabel and her thermal underwear clad companion [Connie?] arrived with the kids, followed by sweet Lynn, Dave, Sue, Pete, Jim, Margaret and Julie. We sat in the dark watching Frank's movies of the Baker wedding of '78, and the Nason wedding of '80, followed by a sumptuous supper washed down with fine wines. I played at barman, assisted by Ally, because Dad had been at Otley playing at jailer for 12 hours from 6am [he's doing this because of the prison officers' strike, you know], and was too tired to apply his mind as to whether Mabel wanted brandy in her Advocaat, or whether Debbie was old enough to sample the Emva Cream Sherry.

Amazing news tonight: heard at about 8pm that a Bradford man arrested in Sheffield is now at Dewsbury Police station helping the police with their enquiries with regard to the Yorkshire Ripper murders. An astounded house heard from Papa that he'd been told this afternoon.

I gave Ally £2 for necessities to keep her until Thursday. Took a bath and climbed into bed at 1:30am.

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Saturday January 3, 1981

 _. High winds, rain. Woke up at 10 and switched off my alarm and slept until 12. Downstairs mother was going through her papers, settling bills,&c, and was composed after last night's upset. Dad was nowhere to be seen and was out on constabulary duties. I bathed. Ally showered. I stood looking at my face in the bathroom mirror wondering what to do about my beard. I haven't shaved since last Tuesday, and resemble a convict.

At about 2 [Ally and me] walked down the lane to look at spin dryers in Wigfall's. Mrs D is posting Ally a cheque by way of a Christmas present, and a dryer is top of the list. We found nothing suitable in this 'olde worlde' electrical appliance shop but caused a scene gasping at a news bulletin on the TV there proclaiming the death of Princess Alice, Countess of Athlone, Queen Victoria's last surviving granddaughter. The old girl would have been 98 next month. It seems that the Queen cannot get through a Bank Holiday without have to pack and head for Windsor and a family funeral.

We returned home at 3:30 bedraggled. Dined with Mum and Dad and then sat very quietly watching Sophia Loren re-enacting her own life on film. Mum and Dad were slightly subdued. It always takes them a while to recover from a bust up. Saw 'Arsenic and Old Lace'. Went to bed at 1:15.

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Friday January 2, 1981

 _. Bank Holiday in Scotland

Mum and Dad's birthday. Whilst Ally and I were back at work the rest of the family  went to Cracoe for lunch. I spent the whole day watching the clock wishing I could be with them. Ally phoned to say she'd bought a fern for Mum and Dad - a temporary present until I get some money. Oh, how I need money.

Ally met me in Guiseley at 6 and we found a full house knocking back wine at Pine Tops. Dad was drunk. They all left at about 7 so that Mum and Dad could get ready to go down to Giovanni's, but it soon became painfully obvious that Papa was in no fit staten to go anywhere. He was tottering around with an ashen face and bloodshot eyes. However, they did leave at 8, but were back within the space of half an hour. Dad staggered up to bed and Mum burst into tears, saying he has ruined her birthday.

Ally went to bed at 10:30 and I sat with Mum for two hours.

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Thursday January 1, 1981

 _. Michael Lawrence Rhodes: age 25 years, 8 months, and 26 days.

Bank Holiday in UK, Republic of Ireland, USA & Canada.

Woke up at some point in the morning still wearing my Tudor regalia, and chain of office. Dreadful, really dreadful. I have never seen Ally look so ghastly.

At 1:30 we walked in the sun to the Plough to join Graham and Gill, who were with Midge, Mel and Barbara. Mel was very drunk and he went on and on singing the praises of Margaret Thatcher. 'Our greatest leader since Churchill, or maybe even Queen Elizabeth I'. Ally, looking like death, didn't drink.

Midge, the beleaguered landlady told me I was a very good looking Henry VIII, but was most peturbed, and still reeling from the dressing down I gave her last night. Evidently I commanded her presence in the dining room to inform her that the salmon mousse wasn't up to standard.

Back to Chillandham Cross. Had roast lamb for lunch, but brought it all back two hours later. Watched 'Great Expectations' on the BBC and left at 7:30 during 'Dr Zhivago'. A hideous journey home, without a break, and back to Pine Tops for 11. To bed exhausted. 

Oh yes, a Happy New Year, to all my readers.

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Wednesday December 31, 1980

 _. To Portwood [Southampton] this morning where Ally had a fitting for a pale blue bridesmaid dress, in readiness for Graham and Gill's wedding in March. Afterwards, we had one drink in the local Berni Inn, where Ally and [John] Pinder once spent a week, and then to the home of a theatrical lady where we were kitted out with fancy dress gear for tonight. 

Back at Chillandham Cross we dressed. I was transformed into King Henry VIII, and Ally an exquisite Anne Boleyn. Graham = Wurzel Gummidge, and Gill = Aunt Sally.

At 9 to the vicarage at Kings Worthy and out with the Lynn family to a depraved do at the local rugby club where we all became horribly drunk. We arrived back at the Plough Inn at 11:45, the straw from Wurzel Gummidge's hat hanging out of my doublet and hose. A debauched evening. In my capacity as monarch I gave Scotland to Neil [the bar man], who likes sheep, you know. Other minions received dukedoms. I then knighted Neil with the command: 'Kneel, Neil'. Barbara, the alcoholic lady from Easton, took a great shine to me. I was administering Holy Communion in the dining room [using Midge's silver gravy boat filled with port and brandy] when in walked the Rev Matthew Lynn, just as Graham spewed all over the sideboard. The clergyman took it in good spirits [geddit?].

Neil, King of Scotland, and I ran the after hours bar, despite the advanced intoxication. I found Anne Boleyn, in a precariously treasonable position , fighting off the advances of Lord Nelson, on a settee. By 4am I was on the phone to France in search of an expert swordsman. I also stole all the toiletries from Midge's bathroom and hid them in my doublet. Dreadful of me. Home covered in damp ermine and feathers, dribbling Bacardi. Oh, God. See you next year.

Fin.

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Tuesday December 30, 1980

 _. To Southampton with Ally, Graham and Gill. He bought us lunch at an Italian place and afterwards we spent hours shopping for furniture. Tonight was far from alcohol free. The Plough Inn featured, but it's all very vague.

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Monday December 29, 1980

 _.Work and then to Winchester.

To the office. Hideous day. Why do we do it? Ally collected me at 5pm and we drove in good, clear conditions to Hampshire. Arrived at about 9:30. The Dixons were watching 'The Charge of the Light Brigade' on TV. Frank was in and out of the garage tinkering with Andrew's motor bike. Ate quiche and went up to bed. Ally clearly so very happy to be with her family.

Andrew, scruffier, now resembles a 1960s Hells Angel. Most disturbing.

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Sunday December 28, 1980

 _. 1st Sunday after Christmas

Sue and Pete's Christmas party. All the family attended with the exception of Maria. Sue made some good food. The drink flowed like water, but it was more of a subdued affair. I blame the surfeit of parties, the mountains of food, the shear volume of drink, &c.

To get away from the seasonal thing, I do feel sorry for poor President Carter. His four years in office must surely have been the worst four years America has experienced since the Second World War. The dramatic political situation of recent years has clearly bee too much of a strain on this humble peanut farmer with no previous political experience.

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Saturday December 27, 1980

 _. Have you noticed drastic changes in my handwriting? For instance just compare today's entry with February 20/21/22, or May 8 for that matter. Am I perhaps schizophrenic? Could I be swinging to the Left? Is Roy Jenkins a viable alternative? Or is it just because it's Christmas?

To the Woolpack with Ally. Met Chris Baker and Julie Harris. On to Chris and Audrey Rycroft's at 10:30pm until 5am. A rave of a party. Like a Roman orgy. A lad was walking around the house quite naked. He'd just returned from Tenerife and stripped to show off his sun tan then didn't bother dressing.

We were both pissed up and as we drove off we were stopped by PC Dom Melville, who recognised us and waved us on our way. Ally had trouble breathing thanks to Audrey's cats.

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Friday December 26, 1980

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

Ally and I had lunch with Mum and Dad. Cold meat and lashings of wine. Sat by the lights on the Christmas tree afterwards waiting for John and Maria. They came at 5. I nursed Catherine. She says 'cup', and 'bye bye' and 'Crackerjack'. Very bonnie.

At 6:30 Ally and I left for Club Street to bedeck the house with Xmas cards and after a frantic tidy round we headed for the Bod to meet Sue [looking flushed], Pete [with a raging temperature], Dave L [a must at any party, a great friend], Jacq, Paul, Pete Sate, _____with a girl called Kay, Chris & Audrey Rycroft, and a dwarf called Christine. By 9:30 Pete N was feeling really ill and so he and Sue left, taking the Rycrofts and the dwarf with them, leaving Ally and I with only a skeleton staffed Boxing Day party. On to Club Street. Great fun. John & Maria joined us late and she played Christmas Carols on the piano, and we all sang and danced in true festive style.

Dave L will always have a niche in my heart, if that doesn't sound too queer. Since 1967 we have been the greatest of friends, and although we can go many months without seeing one another, when we do meet it's as if we have never been apart. A true, brotherly relationship. To bed with Ally at about 5am. Dave had a bunk bed in the spare room. He was the only over night guest.

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Thursday December 25, 1980

 _. Up at 11 feeling well, happy and unscathed from the debauchery of yesterday. For a couple of hours I helped Mum prepare a sumptuous buffet lunch of enormous proportions. The traditional 'sit down' Christmas lunch has been dropped this year owing to the growing family and general over crowding. We played around with prawns and cold meat until clan began to assemble after 2. Jim Nason and Pamela's boyfriend dropped in and then went on to the Hermit [a tradition for Jim].

Lynn, Dave, Sue, Pete, John and Maria all walked in during the Queen's broadcast. Just not on. We'd just got to the bit where the Queen Mother was patting a horse called Sidney.

Present opening: I received a bloody umbrella from Mama. How very sensible. Ally gave me the 'More Specials' LP, plus a Givenchy aftershave set and a jumper. Astounding. The buffet was a great success, and less work for Mama and Papa. We avoided any TV until about 9pm. Pete's been feeling off colour all week. A sore throat.

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Wednesday December 24, 1980

 _. Christmas Eve. The annual Bacchanalian orgy took place at the YP. We finished everything in the office by 11 and then drank whisky and dry ginger with the girls and exchanged presents. The usual rigmarole. Ally phoned to say she'd collect me at 1. She arrived with Catherine Brook [such a Jane Austen character] and we went to Parker's to join Sarah, Carol J and Shazzo. After one drink we made our escape and went on to the Central with Shazzo in tow. Parker's, she says, is too posh for her. Everything became a little blurred. 

We met Pete Lazenby and at closing time he accompanied Ally, Catherine and I to Club Street where we indulged in more wine and we all sang heartily around the piano. Pete gave us a tremendous rendering of several of his monologues - 'Three Ha'pence a Foot' and 'Albert and the Lion', &c. He did not approve of us singing 'Land of Hope and Glory', and midway through this he disappeared to a butcher's shop to buy a leg of pork for his mother. We then took Catherine and a staggering Pete home. Home pissed.

Dressed and out at 8 to Hilda and Tony's Silver Wedding party at the Pudsey Civic Centre. I don't quite know how I kept going. Mama disapproved of my condition, and my staggering was something of a focal point. From the party we went on to Hilda's. I annoyed Uncle T by constantly asking whether Santa had been yet. 'No Michael. Not until you have been to sleep' was his reply. Home after 2am, and to bed.

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Tuesday December 23, 1980

 _. More pay [a fortnight's money today because of the holidays]. To Ally's from the YP. Out to Mamma Mia's Pizzeria on Manningham Lane for a romantic nosh before returning to Guiseley at 8. Mum and Dad were miserable and so we left hurriedly for Lynn and Dave's where we sat watching TV. Ally gave me disapproving looks. We left at 11 and watched Walter Matthau in 'Pete 'n Tilly'.

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