Saturday October 11, 1980

Brown, Nicola Gould, Dame Edna.

_. Up at 12. Had a message via Mama from Lynn that she will be coming with Dave's Cub Scout cap for Ally this afternoon. I hung around and waited until 3. I phoned Ally at 2:45 and she was still in bed. I went to Bradford at 4pm buying a pair of young, firm turnips en route. These, as you can imagine, are to form my cleavage. Ally makes a splendid cub. Horribly sexy.

Carol, Dame Edna, Cub Scout & Laurie Mercer.

To the Bod for a couple of hours at 6:30 and then back to Club St to dress for Brown's party. When dressed I do look more like Dame Edna than the Queen of Denmark, in my blond wig, Crimplene frock, and aquamarine clip-on earrings. Ally did my makeup and clad in pewter coloured tights I set out with a Cub Scout at the wheel to Brown's in Chapel Allerton, arriving at 11. I was, with all modesty, a roaring success. My appearance heralded a series of sexual assaults open my person, and I was the butt of many bawdy jokes. Ally was gorgeous. She does put up with such a lot. No sign of Sarah. Carol J came with Gavin [Summers], a new YP reporter. Drank gallons of red wine and ate nothing but sticks of celery. Home to Bradford from the Brown's at three, four or five.

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Friday October 10, 1980

Christine Dibb.

_. Out with Dave L. Quite a session really. First to the New Inn where we encountered Carole Phillips and Naomi. Carole looked well and beautiful even though she is almost a mother. I was intrigued when she said to me: 'You look normal, for a change.' After intensive probing from me she elaborated. 'You are usually freaky these days.' Me, 'freaky' ? On to the White Cross in search of Sue and Pete, but no sign of either. Dave spotted Christine Dibb and made an immediate beeline for her. I finished my pint and Dave took the hint. On to the Shoulder. Fighting our way to the bar we met Philip Cartwright [see journal 1973-4]. Dave can tell a really good tale. He should write, or go on the stage. Home at 10:45. Dave came in for a drink. Watched a Clint Eastwood film until almost 1.

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Thursday October 9, 1980

_. To Ally's from the YP. We trundled off in Charles to a pizza place on Manningham Lane, Mama Mia's, I think. Ally had lasagne and I had a seafood pizza. We were in and out in a flash. To the 'Mucky Duck' off Manningham Lane, but we sat uncomfortably. I can never sit and drink at the same time. I have to lean on a bar. On to the Bod, always excellent.

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Wednesday October 8, 1980

_. More wet. Heard my alarm but snuggled beneath the quilt for ten minutes refusing to make a start to the day. A gloomy journey to Leeds with the Rawnsleys. I suppose insanity is an excellent qualification for running a metropolitan city council.

St John Stevas: like Disraeli?

Cheered to read in the papers that the government will strengthen the House of Lords against abolition moves by a future Labour government. Just how will they do this?

Norman St John Stevas is a Tory of the 'old school', almost like Disraeli. It would be nice if one day he could perhaps have a bash as prime minister. I don't suppose he's strong enough.

Had several choppy and valueless conversations with Ally. In the end we decided we will go and eat out tomorrow night, probably a pizza in Bradford.

Lynn and Dave came at 8 in a new Vauxhall Cavalier, which looks good. David however doesn't like it, and so a change can be expected. He bought an old Cub Scout uniform for Ally to wear on Saturday.

Took a bath and watched TV. Katie Boyle and King Hussein of Jordan, &c. Michael Parkinson was the limit and I adjourned to bed at 11:05pm.

The biography of the Prince of Wales is as I suspected - repetition. I could concoct a similar book in two weeks given the proper typewriter and enough paper. And I keep saying I don't know what to do with my life. Come on, Michael!

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Tuesday October 7, 1980

Queen of Denmark: more my size.

_. Constant rain. Wind. Like winter. What ever happened to the Indian Summer?

At the YP: discussing my outfit for the fancy dress party Sarah suggests I wear a bra. Isn't that going a bit far? Michael Brown thinks I should attend as a crowned Head of Europe, and not as Dame Edna. I did give this some thought. Perhaps Queen Beatrix of Holland, or the ex-Queen of Italy? Mind you, the Danish monarch is perhaps more my size.

Scratched around at lunchtime, quite penniless and destitute. Carol J and I hid when a bespectacled Marxist wench from 'downstairs' came collecting money for our trade union. After the Labour conference I do not want to give them a single penny. I am, however, a coward.

Derek Naylor has given me a biography of the Prince of Wales which doesn't seem up to much. I probably won't even look at it, but it is good of him.

Spoke to Ally at 3. Derek Jenkins is driving her mad. His brooding, Welsh persona is suffocating all at Daisy Bank. We are not seeing each other until Thursday.

It's all so boring, isn't it, dear reader? And it is hardly likely to improve with the passage of years. You have had my best years already, and all I can provide now are the pathetic thoughts of an ageing nonentity. On the up side I have a fine head of hair, no grey as yet, and I am writing without spectacles. I do not look too broken yet.

Mum and Dad went to see Lynn and Dave. They returned at 10:30 saying Dave has spent a riotous day terminating his employment with Thompson & Spencer. He starts his new job tomorrow.

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Home at 6. Got another soaking. Mum and Dad seem quiet, and the sitting room has taken on a grim atmosphere. Perhaps nothing is amiss, but I am super sensitive in this area.

Monday October 6, 1980

_. Woke up at 8:30. My alarm clock had been over-wound and subsequently had not sounded off. Phoned Ally but got no reply, and ran out into the cold and drizzle snarling and gnashing my teeth. What a hideous start to the week.

Got to the office at 9:30 and phoned Ally. She too had been late in to work, but only by 15 minutes. Phoned home. No reply. It must be Papa's day off, and I suspect they have both escaped to some exotic place.

Home at 6. Still no sign of my parents and so I made eggs and chips, with something called 'Luncheon meat'. Greasy, but substantial.

Watched 'Coronation Street' but was interrupted by Dave L on the phone with a further bulletin on the stray sheep saga. He had decided to take the animal with him to school this morning, to brighten one of his biology classes, but the bloody thing gave him the slip through a hole in his garden hedgerow. No doubt the animal is now nothing more than cutlets in the refrigerator of some eagle-eyed Yeadon butcher. Dave suggested we might go out for a drink on Friday.

Callaghan: tomatoes?

Ally has found me a pair of size nine women's shoes, white with silver stars, and Andrew, the chef at the Belfry, has provided a wonderful wig. I am becoming so excited about Brown's party.

Have I, in the past few weeks, mentioned the Iran-Iraq War? Good. In that case I need say no more.

In other news, Mr Callaghan is going to announce details of his future plans on October 15. I suspect he will accept a peerage, remove himself to the Channel Islands, and grow tomatoes.  The Conservative party conference opened today in the serenity of Brighton. I do like Mrs Thatcher, even now. I say that because already so-called loyal Tories are disputing her policies. I am firmly behind her. In the latest poll from the States Ronald Reagan is ahead of Jimmy Carter. Oh God. Jimmy Carter may be weak, but Ronald Reagan is a lunatic. Hattie Jacques has died aged 56. This is sad. I always found her facial expressions quite hilarious.

Mum and Dad came home at 9:30pm. They'd completed an all round trip of Yorkshire, as I suspected.  Mum looks pale and fatter. To bed at 12.

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Sunday October 5, 1980

_. 18th Sunday after Trinity

Rain and colder. Home to Guiseley at 12:30. I watched as Mum and Dad brewed beer in the kitchen.

Watched an early Peter Sellers epic - 'Two Way Stretch'. Ally was back with me at 3.

We drove to Haworth in pounding rain to buy Lynn and Dave a picture for Christmas. Yes, bloody Christmas shopping. The place was crowded, and I was cold and hungry.

Back to Guiseley and the delights of Harry Ramsden's. We ate by the fire alone as Mum and Dad had gone to Sue & Pete's for Sunday dinner. Ally left at 6:15.

Sheep: evading capture.

Dave L phoned to say he found a stray sheep whilst out walking the dog. He chased the poor animal through the streets of Yeadon as it tried to evade capture. I told him to contact Horsforth police. I wrote to Dave yesterday, but it won't be with him until tomorrow.

Watched 'American Graffiti' a newish US film depicting adolescent life in the '50s.

To bed at 12:30 quite washed out.

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