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.

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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.

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