Saturday November 22, 1980

_. Sweat a good deal in the night and dreamt about aliens landing from outer space in the Yorkshire Dales, scurrying into the numerous labyrinths and potholes. Naturally, in my dream I volunteered, along with two skinheads, to pursue the invading aliens into the bowels of the earth to exterminate them, and thereby save the world. I woke up at 9am just as I surfaced from a mossy pothole.

I attempted to eat breakfast [sausages] but it was all too much. I reclined on a sofa like an emaciated Roman senator until David had the good sense to bring me home to Pine Tops at 1 o'clock. Mum and Dad were out so I left a note and climbed into bed. Dad woke me at 6 with a bowl of horrible vegetable soup.

Mum and Dad went out at 8 with Hilda and Tony, Earl Stevens and Betty Hesp to the Wharfedale Gate ~ old time dancing and all that rot. Mum was dreading the experience.

I slept a little longer and then watched 'Dallas' at 9:15 to see who shot J.R. It was Bing Crosby's daughter after all. Back to bed by 11. Tony came into my room in the early hours and assaulted me. He had the cheek to say I might have alcoholic poisoning. Hilda also appeared and gave me a Silver wedding invitation for Christmas Eve.

-=-

Friday November 21, 1980

_. Up at 7 feeling listless. Ate breakfast with Kitten and took a smoke-filled omnibus to the YP. At lunchtime I bought wallpaper, paste and turpentine [for Ally's small bedroom] and I puffed and panted carrying the provisions around town. The latest [Yorkshire] Ripper business makes the YP a hectic, seething spot and I was in no mood to cope with it.

Home at 6. No appetite. Ate fish reluctantly. Took a bath. Collected by Lynn and Dave at 7:30. They took me to Ally's. It was a mistake. She was daubing paint on her bedroom walls and was infuriatingly unsympathetic to my aches and pains which annoyed me. Aren't I always running to her side, oozing comfort, when she is under the weather?

Lynn brought her portable TV and we watched 'Steptoe & Son', the series from 1972, which made me howl. At 10 I could take no more and retired to bed. By now Ally realised I was ill. I lay beneath the sheets shivering and shaking.

-=-

Thursday November 20, 1980

_. State Opening of Parliament. The 33rd wedding anniversary of the Queen and the Duke of Edinburgh.

Over to Ally's at 6 with David B [who collected me from the YP], where we joined Precious and an expanding Lynn. The Bakers are on a strange mission. To sell Lynn's car they have advertised it the Bradford Telegraph & Argus under Ally's phone number and are taking up residence at Sprog Cottage until Saturday in the hope that a Colonial gentleman with £300 to spare will come along. I think it odd. Why not advertise in the Northamptonshire Gazette and go stay with Earl Spencer?

I feel and look exhausted. We dined on leek and onion soup followed by fish and chips and cloudy lager. Listened to tapes until 11. We discussed names for the baby. I attempted to push Charles, and it was pleasantly received. James too. Lynn and Dave returned to Burley having had no enquiries.

I phoned Dave L and asked him to join us at Ally's on Saturday with Sue and Pete. He seemed to like the idea.

To bed at 12 feeling ill. Something is amiss.

-=-

Wednesday November 19, 1980

Ripper: his 13th victim.

_. My cousin Diane is 17 today.

YP: It has been confirmed that the Ripper has claimed his thirteenth victim. Had a frantic day because of this.

Phoned Auntie Mabel at 2 and invited myself [with Ally] to tea on Nov 25. Phoned Ally. She came to see me at 7:30. Dave G phoned to enquire about holiday plans '81. I told him about Ally's resignation from the Belfry and our worries about scraping up the cash for two weeks in Agios Nikolaos. I ended by saying we'll sort something out shortly.

I persuaded Ally to stay the night. I loathe to think of her driving around Bradford when this maniac is on the loose.

-=-

Tuesday November 18, 1980

_. Wet and cold. Dad joined me on my journey to Leeds because he's back at school at the Leeds Police HQ. Poor Jennie didn't open her mouth.

Busy day. A guy from Debrett's, and a so-called expert on the illegitimate lines of descent from King Charles II, reveals in the Daily Express that he's spent weeks researching Lady Diana Spencer's genealogy. I did the same search in a couple of hours. I'd love to work for Debrett's or Burke's Peerage, and be paid for it. Sadly though I didn't go to Lancing, and I'm not related to Sir Winston Churchill, and my surname is not D'Arcy-Mountjoy-Bampfylde-Evans. I don't stand a chance.

A girl has been murdered in Headingley and [Yorkshire] Ripper fears are raised, but not confirmed as yet.

Grace 'bashing' Russell Harty.

I phoned Ally at 4. She has provisionally booked an apartment at Agios Nikolaos, Crete, from June 24, '81, for two weeks. I am astounded at her speed and efficiency. However, when she arrived at 7:30 she looked dejected saying she cannot afford a Greek holiday. Saving money is a bore and a strain, I'd prefer a fortnight in Whitby.

Watched a gruelling play on TV and saw Grace Jones bashing Russell Harty on his pathetic TV chat show.

To bed at 12:30.

-=-

Monday November 17, 1980

Lady Diana: fever grows.

_. Lady Diana Spencer fever grows. I saw her tonight for the first time on TV. The six o'clock news on the BBC showed the poor girl besieged outside her flat, bombarded with questions as she fumbled for her car keys, eventually driving away beaming all over her face. The poor girl. I think this really means business. The morning papers say she was at Sandringham over the weekend. But as a note of caution let us not forget that Sandringham is her birthplace and home, and she has close ties to the Queen. Another bloody red herring? I am trying to view the situation objectively. Mum says they'll be engaged by Thursday, but Dad's opinion is that it will never happen because the Prince of Wales is a confirmed bachelor. Obviously, Dad doesn't know what he's talking about.

YP busy. Carol J left 'with a cold' at 12:30. That is the last we'll see of her until pay day. A new boy on the YP staff, I discover, is the son of the ghastly former Home Secretary, Merlyn Rees, a Leeds MP. We are really scraping the barrel these days. On the subject of MPs it was interesting to see Sir Harold Wilson speaking on 'Panorama' this evening. His opinion is that the Labour party fell to pieces when he resigned the leadership. He described Peter Shore as his 'poodle' and scoffed about Michael Foot. Harold tends to regard himself as a god, I think.

Mum and Dad went to Auntie Mabel's from 6:30-11:30. I half-heartedly watched TV. Lady Diana was on every news bulletin. I like her pleasant demeanour and obvious good mannered gentleness.

I phoned Ally. She was washing and brewing. I offered to buy her a dress. Auntie Hilda phoned for John's address. She is sending out Silver wedding invitations.

To bed at 12:15.

-=-