Monday September 15, 1980

_. Frank Dixon's birthday, and the 40th anniversary of the climax of the Battle of Britain.

Diana: ideal candidate

I spent the morning furiously whistling the theme tune from The Dambusters, under the impression that it was the Battle of Britain theme tune. Never mind. At least I was on the right track.

Spoke to Bob Cockroft about Lady Diana Spencer. She is the ideal candidate for future Queen, but we'll be kept in the dark until the actual day of the engagement announcement.

Spoke to Ally. She was miserable about Henry [the car] and is still sat at her desk buried in Agatha Christie novels. She is going mad with boredom. Catherine Brook doesn't return from Menorca until Wednesday.

Spoke to John tonight. His job as a paint sprayer is now in jeopardy. Corner House Cottage is coming along nicely, and Maria's been rolling the soil in readiness for the turf laying.

We are all out of cash at home. Mum is, at this very moment, hatching a plot to mug the electricity man when he comes to read the metre in the morning. She has just ransacked a cupboard, and shaken the change from Dad's trousers to muster  up 90p for my bus fares. Pathetic, isn't it?

In the News: Turkey has had another bloodless coup d'etat. John Anderson is gaining popularity in the coming US presidential election campaign. The Marchioness of Northampton has given birth to a daughter. Oh yes, and Mandy Baker is expecting a baby in mid-March. To bed at 12:30.

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Sunday September 14, 1980

_. A guy by the name of Andy phoned this afternoon and asked to speak to Alison. I'm curious. Could it be Prince Andrew perhaps, or Andrew, the chef at the Belfry? I phoned Ally, who was quite mystified. Wrong number? Strange coincidence?

Clouseau: exquisite

Saw one of those Sunday afternoon old films. Leslie Howard as R.J. Mitchell, the inventor of the Spitfire [the plane, not the car]. Corny and dreadful, but in an endearing way.

Pork for dinner. Ate too much. Just Mama and I, because Papa was out in his constabulary role beating up innocent members of the public.

Saw Peter Sellers as Inspector Clouseau tonight. Exquisite. Also watched Lord Olivier playing Lord Dowding in 'The Battle of Britain', or was it Lord Dowding playing Lord Olivier in 'The Battle of Marston Moor'? William Walton's battle theme is so good, but the film did go on a bit.

Bed at almost 1am.

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Saturday September 13, 1980

_. Ally phoned at 10:45 and got me out of bed. She came here an hour later and we drove out in the ailing motor car to Grassington, stopping first for a drink in Burnsall. I have offered to pay Ally £15 to be my personal shoe-cleaner. At least I would see her at weekends. She says she may soon be taking me up on the offer because the Belfry is dying on its feet.

In Grassington

To the Black Horse in Grassington. Our last visit here ended so badly.  Back at Pine Tops by 4:30, Sue and Pete were with Mum and Dad. I fiddled around tuning my new portable telly, which arrived yesterday. I now know how it feels to be a man of property.

The Triumph Spitfire began making ridiculous noises and so Ally deposited the car at Sue's and we went out with them to the Burley Gates [formerly the pizza place Burley House], just for one tipple, and then on to the New Inn, which seemed to be full of convicts and potential psychotic killers. Sue went to chat with one of her girlfriends who was with a fiend who daily hacks chunks out of her with a meat cleaver.

Back to West End Terrace for vodka and hotdogs, then Ally and I returned home. I watched an ancient 1930s gangster movie on my new telly, and Ally slept next to me twitching in her sleep reminiscent of an old tabby cat. __________.

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