Thursday November 26, 1980

_. Back to the YP. Carol embraced me when I walked into the office. She likens my entry to the Stanley-Livingstone meeting in a steaming African jungle all those decades ago. Kathleen wept for joy.

Received £8.03 for tips and lineage contributed to the YP in September. Excellent. Out at lunchtime. Bought a bottle of Bell's whisky for Mama's Xmas booze mountain. Bought a 1981 journal - £2.60.

Mum phoned at 3:30 to say Carole Phillips gave birth to a daughter on Nov 25 weighing in excess of 9lb. Dad saw Margaret Phillips [to serve a summons on something] and she told him that the baby is in great shape, but that Carole is quite ill. Bless her, she wanted a girl.

Home in the ice and hail at 6. Soaked to the skin. Still have no appetite and sat poking at some fish, pushing it around my plate. This isn't me at all.

Rachel Roberts: dead at 51.

News: 5,000 die in an Italian earthquake. The YP had a leader today on Lady Diana Spencer 'marriageability'. Rachel Roberts, the actress, dies at 51. In the House of Commons Edward Heath has said nasty things about Margaret Thatcher. Unemployment figures now top 53,000,000.

Watched 'Top of the Pops' on the BBC. It's always good for a laugh watching Dad's reaction to the half-crazed warblers. Watching them from over the top of his Yorkshire Post, bravely accepting everything assaulting his ears.

Jim and Margaret came at 8:30 and stayed until 11. To bed at 12 after 'Soap' on Tyne Tees TV. I look completely washed out.

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Wednesday November 26, 1980

_. Sunny. Up at 10 or thereabouts. Ate little breakfast because my appetite is still wandering around elsewhere. I had a conversation with Ally and we decided to spend lunchtime in some local ale house.

I sat buried in 'The Trumpet Major' - old Hardy really has surprised me quite pleasantly. I always imagined his works to be dull.

Jim Nason.

Ally came at 12:30 and we went to the Fox and Hounds [Menston] where we bumped into Jim Nason and a fellow workmate from Armitage Shanks. He bought us a drink and left at 1:30. The were both jealously observing their managing director entertaining a party from Switzerland to lunch, and wanted to be part of it. Back at Pine Tops we had prawn sandwiches and then Ally returned to her office, and Derek Jenkins, and his filthy Welsh habits.

The Prince of Wales is in India and reports now say that Malcolm Fraser, the Australian prime minister [and other Commonwealth leaders] have been told that the royal marriage to Lady Diana Spencer is scheduled for next June, or October. This has been denied by the palace, naturally. A red-faced Malcolm Fraser has said he hasn't 'let slip' this news, and cries of 'rubbish' and 'codswallop' fly everywhere, but I do think this is it. The royal chips are, as they say, down.

Sir Geoffrey Howe is in trouble over his national insurance mess, and perhaps his head will roll.

Spent the afternoon and evening pouring over 'The Trumpet Major'. The TV is diabolical. To bed at 11:30.

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Tuesday November 25, 1980

_. Bright and sunny. Up at 11. Mama was on the phone talking to Sarah. From the tone of the conversation I gather that Sarah too is laid low with the plague. I laid in my sweaty sheets chortling at the thought of the chaos and pandemonium at the YP library with both it's workers off at the same time.

Ate some breakfast and then went for a walk in the sun to to the library. Did some shopping for Mama. Struggling back up the lane I was made painfully aware how my illness has taken its toll and weakened me. I reached Pine Tops panting and sweating as if I'd just completed the north face of the Eiger.

Ally phoned while I was out and was going to lunch with the desolate Catherine who dislikes her new job in the anaesthetist department.

Susie phoned. Both she and Pete have diarrhoea, and are currently running at West End Terrace. Lynn also phoned, and yes, you've guessed, she too has had a slight attack of the abovementioned ailment. It seems we are all stricken.

Phoned Sarah at 1:30. Delia accused me of ignoring her which is quite accurate really. Sarah giggled at us both being absent from the office and insisted I take tomorrow off as well. 'Let them do some work for a change' she said. This appealed to me greatly.

Brown: attacked.

Sarah told me that poor Michael Brown was beaten up over the weekend in Leeds after being caught up in a women's anti-Ripper demonstration. It seems that the brigands were setting about any males whom they could lay hands on. I do understand the fear women must be feeling in these violent times and this particularly violent area, but by attacking innocent members of the opposite sex I am afraid they are defeating the object.

Had lunch by candlelight at 2pm because the light outside began fading rapidly. Afterwards Papa fell into an immediate sleep [he'd been looking after violent prisoners in Otley since 6am]. I poured over 'The Trumpet Major' and Mama knitted furiously in pink wool. Yet another creation for baby Catherine.

Ally came at 5:30 and we went to Pudsey in the dark and drizzle. To St Lawrence Close. Auntie Mabel looked bright and thinner. I find it hard to believe she is almost 62. Had a heavy dinner here and watched TV until 10:30. Ally and I were huddled on the sofa. I could see that auntie fully approves of her. She is coming to Ally's party on Dec 11.

-=-