Saturday December 5, 1981

 _.Feeling decidedly nasal. But not as nasal as Mr Smith. Graham suffers from chronic catarrh  and we could hear him in the bathroom discharging his fluid into the sink. We're sure they heard us giggling. The Smiths are an eccentric pair.

After a massive breakfast we all went, at about 11, to York in the Smith-mobile. York was busy, bustling and full of festive atmosphere, but biting cold. We bought glasses for John and Maria and a decanter for Susan and Pete. Lynn and Dave are difficult to buy for, and so were left until later. Brass handles for our chest too.

We found a packed little fish and chip restaurant, and Charlotte bought us cod and chips. She is a round little thing is Charlotte and looks very Margaret Rutherford-like in her long overcoat and felt hat. She is in fact my age. We managed to get away at about 4.

Back at Club Street we drained a large bottle of Liebfraumilch [from Graham] and listened to a talk on the Smiths recent holiday in Egypt. That is one country I want to see. You can forget the USA and the Seychelles. Just give me a camel and the Valley of the Kings.

Out at 9 to Pizzeria Mamma Mia on Manningham Lane. Ally and I had scampi in garlic and tomato sauce. She wasn't too keen. Graham, slightly pissed, refused to drink for the remainder of the evening. Charlotte of course is not drinking in pregnancy.

-=-

Friday December 4, 1981

 _.Have a thick head and feel something coming on. I usually succumb to the cold in December. Sad reflections about poor Jim Glynn. He was permanently cold, no doubt because of his heart condition, always rubbing his hands together warming them, before the gas fire, even in summer, and even when the fire was not actually lit, and only a figment of his imagination.

Kathleen came back into the office after her lunch break with a bottle of whisky and we sat at our desks sipping Scotch from our pot mugs. Better than the office tea. The girls became giggly, red-faced and flushed. Pathetic really. I erected the sad little office Christmas tree, making the usual predictable jokes about balls, which gave a staggering Kathleen some belly laughs.

On at 5 to Rawdon and my dentist, but was out on the street within minutes. My teeth require no treatment, and he doesn't want to see me again until June 4.

Back to Ally. Graham and Charlotte Smith rolled in at 8. We dined. Afterwards the pregnant Charlotte sprawled in an arm chair, clutching a hot water bottle, and throwing in the occasional grunt. The baby, if a boy, is to be Hugo. Poor little sod. Graham did his 'dead man lying on the floor' routine. They took over our bedroom, which I resent, and we had bunk beds. Suddenly I feel old.

-=-

Thursday December 3, 1981

 _.A warm day. Ally, feeling better, went off to the AHA. 

The YP was a bundle of fun. Sat with my coffee brooding over the nationals [papers]. The Michael English Succession Bill is really worrying me. The Bill is to be read on February 26.

Went into town at lunchtime but returned, battered, after half an hour in the seething hysterical crowd of Christmas shoppers. Where do all the old women come from at this time of the year? The newspapers says we are in a financial depression, but that news hasn't filtered through to the masses in Leeds. Sir Geoffrey Howe this afternoon presesnted a financial statement, a 'mini budget'. 

Home at 6. To Morrison's. We were home at 7:15 and had a call from Dave G. His father died at 2am today after suffering another heart attack last night. I was lost for words, but Dave seemed very composed. A relief manager has been installed at the Hollywood , as Lily lies bereft in her room. Dave says he is so proud of his grandad, mourning his only child, and yet battling on. It was obvious months ago that Jim Glynn's days were numbered, yet it's a great blow. He was 56. A warm hearted and humorous man. Poor Lily.

Billy phoned at 10:30 and insists we go stay at his flat on the night of Dec 12, and that Dave wants our visit to go ahead. The lads took Dave to the Robin Hood tonight.

-=-

Wednesday December 2, 1981

 _.Up at 6:30.

In my lunch break I made what is now a regular hike to the Central Library and took out Agatha Christie's autobiography for Ally. I phoned her at 12:45 and she phoned me at 4:30. 

Spoke to Papa [Mama was in the bath]. His eye is healing but after two weeks he's still taking the eye drops.

I am worried about the proposed Bill to alter the succession to the throne. Our monarchy is sacred. We are not like the bicycling, bourgeois European and Scandinavian royal families. To mess with the ancient order of things hits at the very stability of the institution, and will crumble away more of the mystique. Anyway, I cannot see Her Majesty giving her approval to such feminist meddling.

Home at 5:45. Steak and kidney cobblers! A Lancashire dish, I think. 

The Borgias on the telly. We are on episode 7 and they have only just got round to using poison.

-=-

Tuesday December 1, 1981

 _.Ally feels as though she's been run over by a steam roller, but feels better than yesterday. Up at 6:30 and we had boiled eggs in bed.

I phoned the AHA to report to Derek and was relieved to hear Gillian's voice. She's back at work with the all important filing cabinet keys.

A tortuous journey from Leeds this evening. Christmas shoppers. Found Ally knitting by a glowing TV set. Cousin Jackie phoned inviting us to visit her this evening. We decline. Ally in no fit state. We do promise to go soon. 

Watched 'Brideshead Revisited'. Bed before 10.

-=-

Monday November 30, 1981

 _.St Andrew's Day

Ally had a dreadful night and spent the day in bed. I phoned Mum, which I probably shouldn't have done, and they came at 6:30 driving Pete's car. Ally didn't want any fuss. I phoned the AHA to hear the panic, and Welsh panic at that, of Derek Jenkins. Gillian is also missing from the office and the filing cabinets are all locked, both girls having the keys, and subsequently he can do no work.

I have written to the Times about a remarkable piece of rubbish published in this morning's edition penned by the usually reliable Philip Howard. It's all because a pathetic and misguided MP is to bring a private member's bill this week in an attempt to make the first child, regardless of sex, heir to the throne, displacing male primogeniture, as in the case of boring Sweden. [Philip] Howard, in a lengthy Times article, says that if such a law had been applied to earlier scions of the House of Windsor that the late Princess Mary, the Princess Royal 'as eldest child of King GeorgeV' would have succeeded her father as Queen in 1936, and that Lord Harewood would now be our sovereign. It's all very amusing I'm sure but for the fact that Princess Mary was not King George V's eldest. She was born in April, 1897, and was the King Emperor's third sprog. Edward VIII, and George VI came before her.

-=-

Sunday November 29, 1981

 _. No sooner were we out of bed when a sharp knock at the door heralded the arrival of cousin Jackie and a bundle of apricot fur, supposedly pertaining to be a six week old Poodle pup. We had a few drinks, and I accidentally stood on the yelping fur ball several times, but life was not extinguished. Jackie was here to stay. We watched a vintage Margaret Rutherford film together with glasses of home-brewed sherry, and then Jackie, a district nurse, left at 4:30 to give an insulin injection to a diabetic gentleman. 

Ally and I continued drinking until evening. I taped some music from the radio. Ally compiled a Christmas card list, and we sat, long faced, through a hideous Royal Command Performance.

We have decided to throw a Sunday afternoon Xmas party on December 20. Phoned Mum, Lynn, Sue and Auntie Hilda.

The Borgias, on TV. Rabbit and Yorkshire pudding. Bed at 11.

-=-

Saturday November 28, 1981

 _. Slept until after 11. Then, in a flurry of activity, Ally took a bucket and went out to clean Audrey before setting to work on the windows. It was a cold day. I ventured outside to glue something onto the car that had fallen off during Audrey's lengthy stay at Jack Andrews garage. I almost had to glue back vital extremities which were frozen and close to falling off my person in the Arctic conditions. Watching Ally from the window I realised that all the other elderly residents of Club Street were doing the same. Funny how old ladies spend a lot of time peeping over their potted geraniums through lace curtains.

At 3 we headed into the metropolis to have a sudden, yet successful spend. Bought Sarah a demijohn for her two week wine. Bought Mum Nigel Dempster's 'Princess Margaret: a life Unfulfilled' [for her birthday]. Took a flower painting to be framed. It will cost £22. Bought Ally a diary. Yes, I am to have a rival in the literary field. I suppose it will be very interesting in years to come for us, and indeed you, dear reader, to look back and view two different accounts of our 'goings on'. I find keeping this journal very time consuming, and yet to call a halt and finish would be like severing a limb. It and I are now joined forever.

Home made pizza. 

Began a still life bowl of fruit and wine bottle on a yellow table. Happy with it. 

We watched 'What Ever Happened to Baby Jane' with Bette Davis and Joan Crawford. Ally, can you believe, had never seen this much viewed so-called spine chiller before. Bed after 1.

-=-

Friday November 27, 1981

 _.It is rumoured that the Princess of Wales is booked into the Lindo Wing at St Mary's Hospital, Paddington, in the second week in June, and under an assumed name. We are told that the Queen has canceled a state visit to Sweden in June because Queen Silvia is expecting a baby, but surely the cancelation is because of a birth closer to home?

YP dismal. 'Mrs Slocombe' is such a crashing snob. I blame the Toxteth riots on Mrs S's attitude to coloured types. Her bigoted ramblings grown worse with every passing day. I have noticed that those who propogate racial discrimination are generally uneducated, ignorant and very small minded.

Terry Fletcher, a YP reporter, followed Shirley Williams around Crosby for two days and says she cannot be matched for her incredible ability to talk to all people from all walks of life. She has, he says, an answer for everything and no journalist there could come any way near to breaking her. Mr Fletcher has returned to Leeds convinced that Mrs Williams will one day be prime minister. I'm not sure. Her appearance lets her down very badly. She is almost a female version of Michael Foot. Just imagine her at the Cenotaph in crumpled orange Crimplene and anorak, her fuzzy hair blowing. Besides, she's a Roman Catholic, and I think we have yet to have an RC PM.

Mushroom soup. Mince, sprouts, dumplings, &c. Mum phoned in a state of great excitement to say that Auntie Mabel has won a Christmas food hamper to the value of £97. I phoned auntie to offer congratulations. Characteristically she says she wept like a baby on receiving the news.

Somebody has offered Ally £240 for Audrey. My God? Thank goodness the weekend is here. We sat until 10 and then bed called.

-=-

Thursday November 26, 1981

 _. Thanksgiving Day, USA.   New Moon.

Last night I shaved off my so-called beard which has adorned my adonis features since Sept-Oct. I have a feeling I last shaved on the morning of Jill and Tim's wedding. As you know I am a feeble grower of facial hair. My legs are like young and vigorous forests, but alas from the waist up I'm a desert.

YP quite pleasant.My two tips to Bob are in today's paper. 

Out at 12 to have a short haircut at Fred's on Boar Lane. I then walked around town killing time and met Ally at 2. We arranged to meet outside a sweet shop and she caught me devouring a packet of Rolos. We went to Kirkgate market and bought a rabbit and enough veg for a harvest festival. We bought JPH a toy in Boots. By 4 it was dark and cold and so we headed for home. 

We had fish and chips and went to Guiseley for 7:30 to see Mummy and Daddy. He is much improved, but cannot return to work for another week. Jim and Margaret arrived at 9, and we left at 11:30. Ally tottered up to bed and I sat and watched the results of the Crosby by-election. Shirley Vivien Teresa Brittain Williams, PC is elected to serve as an SDP MP with a 5,000 majority. In 1979 the Tories held the seat with a 19,000 majority and so it's a major, disastrous juxtaposition. However, a similar phenomenon occurred at Orpington in 1962 when Eric Lubbock [now Lord Avebury] snatched the constituency for the Liberals. Is the SDP here to stay, or is it a flash in the pan? 1984 will reveal all.

-=-

Wednesday November, 25, 1981

 _.Couldn't get out of bed. Felt quite unable to work. Ally in a similar state. Is it the curry?

I struggled to the YP. Gave two tips to Bob Cockroft. The Countess of Rosse has given birth to a son. They are connected to Womersley Park at Doncaster, of course, and Lord Rosse is a half-brother of the Earl of Snowdon. The other tip was the engagement of Richard Clephane Compton, of Newby Hall, to Lucinda Hohler. Compton is a second cousin of the Princess of Wales, both descended from the 3rd Duke of Abercorn.

Phoned Mummy. Lynn walked up to Pine Tops with Frances in the pram collecting Susan on the way, and Peter joined them for lunch. News of a family gathering is heart warming.

Left the YP at 4:30. Ally peaky and complaining of her tummy. 

-=-

Tuesday November 24, 1981

 _.Out of bed at 6:30 to find a gruesome picture awaiting us. Snow, only finely spread, but snow all the same. We shudder at the thought of months of toil in the frozen wasteland that is Lidget Green.

YP: Sarah off with one of her headaches. Kathleen and Carol went off this afternoon to a microfilm extravaganza or whatever, leaving me and Margot.

Is the revolting Shirley Williams going to take Crosby for the SDP? That is the question. By 1984 will all the political parties be led by women? Thatcher in the blue corner, Williams in the yellow/pink SDP collage corner, and ... er... perhaps Gwyneth Dunwoody over in the red? I think Shirley Williams would stand for the Stuffed Rat and Bucket Party if she thought she stood a chance being elected.

Phoned Guiseley for my daily bulletin on Papa's eye. He is still in pain and his eye is aggravated by the light, and so he is walking around the house looking sinister in dark glasses.

Home at 6. Cousin Jackie came to see us at 7:30 with a Billy Connolly LP and stayed until after 11. She seems lonely now that she and Peter are on the rocks and says she is heading to a life of spinsterhood. Next week she is collecting an apricot poodle, called Ben. We discussed families, especially ours, and the useless bickering. What can be done? Our branch continues to stick together.

At 10:30 I went over the road and bought a curry.

-=-

Monday November 23, 1981

 _.YP dismal. Mrs Slocombe is back from London, but nobody mentioned it. Sarah says her wedding now seems to be fixed for April 16, 1982. The press report that the Princess of Wales returned to Althorp to see her Daddy last Friday for the first time since her marriage. A tearful and joyous reunion, by all accounts.

Phoned Mum at 3. Sue and Pete took them to the hospital this morning. Dad's eye is progressing. He has to return on Thursday. He sent a cheque with us on Friday for Di and Paul's engagement, but it was lost in the palatial vastness of the civic centre, and has been canceled.

Home at 6. It's cold and wet. Ally in the hustle and bustle of kitchen, emerging from the steam of the boiling pans looking quite beautiful. Bessie phoned. They were in Jersey for the weekend, and are going to Guernsey next weekend.

Dined and then watched a programme on the BBC about Cliff Richard [no doubt to you readers in 2067 he's now Lord Richard of Chiswick, OM, GCB, CH].

Later, Ally stood ironing and I sprawled on the sofa, feet up watching a cowboy film. We switched off at 10 and went to bed.

-=-

Sunday November 22, 1981

 _.Last Sunday after Trinity

Slept for twelve hours and finally climbed out of bed to escape Noel Edmonds on the bedroom radio. Is it any wonder that his wife has gone crazy?

Another breakfast of late 19th Century Sandringham proportions. All that was lacking was Lillie Langtry and the deviled kidneys. Mind you, Ally with her bobbed hair and fantastic waist is Bradford's answer to the Jersey Lily.

We sat afterwards discussing Audrey. Sadly she has to go. Ally wants a Mini, and good old English rust instead of the Continental crumbling.

Watched the Sunday film. Alan Ladd in a good old Arthurian film 'The Black Knight'. Say no more.

To Wilsby at 5:30 for dinner with Hilda and Tony, Diane and Paul. We took a bottle of home-brewed sherry. Dinner excellent. Mounds of Yorkshire pudding. Hilda and Tony are in very good spirtits. They are disgusting night rakes and seldom go to bed before 1:30am. Watched The Borgias, which we missed last Wednesday. Hilda found the 14th century male costume to be a source of amusement. She announced that the lump in the Holy Father's cassock must be where he keeps his lunch.

Home at 11:30, and so to bed.

-=-

Saturday November 21, 1981

 _.Slept all morning and awoke feeling decidedly dead. My hideous condition mainly due to lack of sleep and not alcohol consumption. I staggered over the road, in the drizzle, like a zombie, and wandered around the Co-op buying bacon, beans, and a loaf for our sumptuous breakfast. The lady in front of me in the queue was buying a very large box of tampons. Brunch with Ally 12-1. Afterwards we went to Morrison's and then to Guiseley to see Mum and Dad who are later dining with Lynn and David. Home at 6:45. Lasagne. Bed at 9:30pm.

-=-

Friday November 20, 1981

 _.Out of bed, as usual at 6:30, and over breakfast we discussed both taking the afternoon off, but decided against it. We have precious little time to prepare before Christmas and intend to venture soon to York and the delights of Habitat.

To the YP. Mum phoned at 9:30 to say Dad has a badly infected eye from a fragment of rust which he managed to contract whilst on his back beneath the Toyota. They went by taxi to Bradford Royal where Ally joined them. 

I had a dull morning and at 12:50 I decided to leave. Bus to Bradford. Ally at the wheel of Audrey came to collect me with Mum and a dreadful looking Dad. His eye bandaged and looking pale and sickly. I don't think I've ever seen Papa looking so rotten. On to Pine Tops to deposit them. We bought fish and chips, had a few drinks and listened to music.

To Pudsey Civic Centre at 7:45. Ally looking chic in a new woollen frock. Diana and Paul's engagement party. I think the Civic centre is too big a venue for a comfortable orgy. 150 people eating and dancing and yet the place felt empty. Sue, Pete, Lynn, Dave, Jill, Tim, Karen, Steve, Phil and Denise, cousin Jackie and cousin Stephen [well over 6ft]. Hilda invited Ally and I to dinner on Sunday. A great honour. We escaped the 'dance hall' and took to the bar for the night. At 12 to the Sanderson residence until 4:30am. Talking to Karen about the ins and outs of modern day dentistry. Believe it or not, Karen is an authority on Prince Edward's teeth. Steve snored throughout. Home at dawn and to bed.

-=-

Thursday November 19, 1981

 _.Busy at the YP. Sarah was a away at a funeral. Just a great-uncle. Margot was back, limping, but looking very well. She is in fact a very nice girl, who always seems to say more when the other girls are away. Mrs Slocombe is in fact a very Mussolini-like figure. I suppose I play Neville Chamberlain in the office, or perhaps Count Ciano. 

Gave Bob [Cockroft] a tip. Lord Deramore's daughter, the Hon Ann de Yarburgh Bateson, 31, is engaged to an Irishman. With a surname like that I don't suppose she stacks shelves in Tesco.

Home to my 're-designed' wifelet at 6:15. Cousin Diane is 18 today, and in Gadsby tradition she became engaged to be married. Ally went out at lunchtime and had her fuzzy hair re-styled and considerably shortened. Bit of a 'Peter Pan' creation. Tonight she was clad in canary-yellow plus-fours and woolly socks. We had a curry and watched 'Top of the Pops' and looked at our money. 

The Pakistani family have quit the corner shop here at Club Street. The children used to watch us, from a perch in an upstairs window. 

Lynn phoned at 8:30 to see if we want a lift to 'the ball' tomorrow. With a bit of luck Audrey will be back with us by then. We brewed some lager. Blissful domesticity.  Bed after 11.

-=-

Wednesday November 18, 1981

Ally and 'Audrey'.

 _. Spoke to Mum. She was bright and chatty. Ally spoke to Adolf Broadhead at Jack Andrews. He says Audrey is repaired with a new floor, seat-belts, and a headlamp, and all for £122 [including VAT]. They are bandits, but what more can we do now other than pay up? We can soon get the money together and it will certainly be a joy to see that tiny blue French thing again.

Home at 6. Ally is knitting. Later she was buried behind a Daphne Du Maurier book. I finished the flower painting for Bessie. Very happy with it. Went to bed early because, you've guessed it, we were very tired. Missed 'The Borgias', but we can catch up with it on Sunday.

-=-

Tuesday November 17, 1981

 _. Rain. Out of bed at 6:30. We sat eating porridge, bananas on toast, washed down by coffee. We enjoy our little breakfasts together. Life is very cruel, isn't it? We have breakfast together and then endure 11 hours apart until we dine together. Is this meant to be the pattern of our lives? We need to find money, and find it now so that we can be together day and night. As I left she referred to me as 'my little wood spurge', which I believe is a flowering plant. 

Home at 5:30. Phoned Dad and told him that Jack Andrews still have the Citroen. He too is 'off the road' with car trouble, but enjoying the walking. 

News: James Prior was attacked by a heaving mob at the funeral of Robert Bradford MP. The Prince of Wales was in Bristol without the Princess, who is suffering from morning sickness. In a speech he said he accepts full responsibility for her condition. The crowd seemed dreadfully disappointed. Charles will have to get used to his demotion. Diana is the one everyone wants to see.

-=-

Monday November 16, 1981

 _.YP busy. I worked through lunch and left at 4:30. I phoned Allt this afternoon and got through to Derek Jenkins. 

Mr Speaker Thomas.

Ulster is in turmoil [just for a change]. The Unionist MP Robert Bradford was assassinated by the IRA on Saturday and today three Ulster MPs including Ian Paisley were expelled from the House of Commons for abusing the government and referring to James Prior as a 'traitor with blood on his hands'. I do sympathise with Mr Paisley. What has the government done to combat the increasing IRA menace? ____. The Speaker of the House of Commons is a wonderful man. If we can go on producing men like George Thomas we cannot be all that bad. 

A fried pastiche this evening. Then bottling wine and washing, &c. Ally says she resembles a witch with her hair standing on end. The Good Witch of Lidget Green. She is resolved to have her hair 'done' later in the week.

Watched a gloomy Mrs Thatcher on 'Newsnight'. Bed at 11 after Ovaltine.

-=-

Sunday November 15, 1981

 _.22nd Sunday after Trinity

Hungover at first but a few pills and a gallon of tea and a heap of breakfast pulled me round. Ally was very tender too. We were in bed until noon. 

We slumped on the settee all afternoon watching two dreadful films, unable to move to switch over. Eleanor Parker as an archaeologist in Egypt and Robert Taylor and Sophia Loren as Greek sponge divers. This duo of film classics took us through until 6:30.

We had chilled Martinis followed by pork cooked in cider. A delicious candle-lit nosh. 

Watched an episode of The Borgias. Pneumotelevisionitis undoubtedly.

-=-

Saturday November 14, 1981

 _.We lounged in bed until after 10:30 and took a leisurely breakfast and discussed the days proggramme. Dry, bright, crisp and sunny. We made our weekly pilgrimage into Bradford and were soon weighed down with fruit, vegetables and meat. The shops were packed out. The festive season looming. Collected my painting from the frame shop. We tired of the bustle and made for home. 

The oil paining is now hanging on the landing. Lynn, Dave and Frances came at 3:30 and spent a couple of hours drinking apricot wine and 'Clan Dew'. 

The baby has wonderful dark eyes and a head of fine, punk-rock like hair. They left at 5:30 and we were left amongst the cushions, clutching our sticky glasses and looking for some excitement. We phoned Susie but they are going out with Pamela and Pamela's Peter. Phoned Dave L, Jill, Tim, Karen, Steve, Diane and Paul, and all agreed to come over. Catherine and David were conned into coming too. They arrived thinking they'd be our only guests. A jolly gathering which included a dancing competition. Steve, Tim and Dave did a remarkable impression of The Chiffons singing 'Sweet Talking Guy'. Diane and Paul are getting engaged next week. Things fell through at about 1:30 when Dave left and Steve had a ferocious attack of wind. We ended the night using the cellar as an  'anti-Steve fall out shelter'.

At 3:30am we made eggs and chips.

-=-

Friday November 13, 1981

 _.Friday the thirteenth. Ally has spoken to Jack Andrews garage. The reply this time is that they are waiting for a new seat belt to arrive from the dealers. A simple three day job has escalated into three weeks.

YP: photographs of the royal progress in York yesterday show a pale and wilting Princess of Wales. Should HRH be carrying out such a bstrenuous 'meet the people tour' in these early and crucial weeks of a first pregnancy?

A cosy evening on our settee with our books [Stanley Baldwin and Daphne Du Maurier] with the tv droning on in the background. At 10:15 I shamefully went over the road for greasy fish and chips. We seldom have supper. We watched the tv until it disappeared into a dot. Adam, of Adam and the Ants, was the star on a late night chat show. He's obviously a boy with big and burning ambitions.

-=-