Thursday April 16, 1981

 _. Bought steak at Atkinson's in readiness for tonight's dinner for Mr David Lawson. He is coming primarily to borrow records for his annual Christmas party, taking place this year on Easter Saturday.

Royal News: Roddy Llewellyn has, supposedly with the blessing of Princess Margaret, become engaged to a wealthy travel writer called Tatiana Soskin. I am glad about this because the Llewellyns are a hideous band of renegades, degenerates and bounders. 

Escaped from the YP at 4pm and arrived at Club St before Ally and sat on the wall. The neighbours, who all appear to be elderly spinsters, smile and wave at me. Ally has recently informed some of them about her coming nuptials, and you know how old ladies like a wedding. I could almost taste the excitement in the thick, Bradford air. 

Dave L came at 6:30 and we dined on grilled steak, baked potatoes and salad. A very enjoyable dinner. Dave amused us with tales of modern comprehensive school life. Afterwards we sat in a heap by the fire, and he left at about 9. We settled down in an ancient chair, the one with the Chintz wild roses and gladioli covers.

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Wednesday April 15, 1981

 _. I decided to go to Bradford after tea and gathered up a mass of records and chased a bus down Bradford Rd. Ally met me on Manningham Lane, and took me on to our home. Spent the evening in comical discussion on the subject of our finances, or lack of them. I refuse to worry about money. Why fret over scraps of coloured paper with pictures of dead nineteenth century nurses peering up from them? No, I'm sure all will be well in the end. Anyway, prisons are quite comfortable places these days.

We ate toast and drank tea and watched TV. Happy and domesticated. I wish it could be June now. 

I took down my family tree to add the baby and found another Frances. My great-great grandmother was Frances Proctor. She married Edward Fawbert, and was mother to Rella [my great-grandmother], who was born in June, 1855.

To bed in the region of midnight.

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Tuesday April 14, 1981

Frances Anne.

 _. Baby Frances made her first visit to see Granny and Grandad Rhodes at Pine Tops this evening. I sat nursing baby watching Barry Norman's film profile of Marilyn Monroe on BBC2. Baby looks much nicer. Nicer than Marilyn Monroe that is, not Barry Norman. Ally arrived looking pale and complaining of pains. ____. All eyes were firmly fixed on the baby and even the return to earth of the Space Shuttle paled into insignificance by comparison. I wasn't even aware that it had gone up, and so was mildly surprised to see it plummeting back over Colorado. Until we can walk on the floor of the Pacific, cure cancer, and live healthily until we're 300, what's the point of going into Space? Small minded of me, I bet you're saying, but expect more ridiculous observations in future.

The Bakers went home reasonably early to feed Frances and we all went into the usual raptures - baby raptures.

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Monday April 13, 1981

 _.Giggling with Ally on the phone this afternoon. I told her the only food to have passed my lips all day was one Nuttall's mint. I was chastised. One boiled sweet is hardly adequate for a growing boy. She phoned me this evening saying she has eaten some mushrooms which had probably 'gone off'. I worry, and advised arrowroot in warm milk. She went to bed early with a batch of my letters for a reappraisal. 

At home, mowed the lawns. Watched Coronation Street. Later, watched Clint Eastwood in A Fistful of Dollars.

Dave G phoned for a bulletin on Lynn and the baby. Dave L phoned but I was in the bath, and I asked Mum to ask him to change his coming visit to Club St from Wednesday to Thursday. He agrees. He stands a much better chance of getting a decent meal on Thursday. 

Mum and Dad were like love-birds tonight and seemed to be incredibly happy about something. They visited the Stonehouse Inn on Friday evening and found old George sitting in his fireside chair, with cat on his lap, looking healthy again. His daughter, from the south, says that Blubberhouses is the most boring place on earth. OK, it's no Juan les Pins, but it'll do.

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Sunday April 12, 1981

 _. Palm Sunday

Up at 12. We ate sparingly. We made ourselves look decent in time to go to Lynn & Dave's at 2. She brought Frances home from hospital at 12, and a family gathering erupted around this historic event. The baby changes daily, and was surrounded by flowers and cards. Ally remained 'peaky' throughout the visit but didn't show any outward signs of her discomfort. Baby Frances was a brilliant antedote.

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Saturday April 11, 1981

 _. Ally came to lunch. At 7 we went to see the Rev Calvin Ward at Esholt. He says he is going to begin reading the banns soon, but first we have to visit the vicar of St Wildred's, Lidget Green, a Mr Nobbs [?], who will read the banns likewise in his colourful parish. Ward gave us a book, or perhaps manual, on marriage guidance, written by Margaret Hook, the wife of a former Bishop of Bradford. This gave us a few belly laughs on our drive back to Lidget Green.

Ally dresses, in a pastiche of pink, looking gorgeous and almost edible. At 10 we joined the still-proud David B, Karen, Steve, and Dave L at the Railway pub at Rodley. We passed Jacq and Paul in the doorway as they headed to the party, and we joined them at 11. Karen and Steve left as soon was decently possible, and Ally, Dave L and I stood propping up the kitchen sink. We discussed Bessie and Frank. Ally's parents were engaged for 10 years before they committed matrimony when she was 30 and he was 25. The mind boggles. ______. Dave B left before midnight, looking exhausted, but we remained clinging to the kitchen sink. Paul shouts and balls as though he's on stage at the National Theatre. ________.

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Friday April 10, 1981

 _.Up late feeling atrocious. I cannot take my drink at all these days, or so it would seem. Four pints of lager and I'm knackered for the day. Left Ally at 8 and missed the bus to Leeds and so I went by train instead. The only other occupant of my compartment was a drab looking, tweedy spinster, hiding behind a book 'Rediscovering God'.

I staggered along Wellington St and reached the office 10 minutes late. Grotty day. Buggered. Sarah took my lethargy for a developing cold and so avoided me for the day.

Home at 6. No sign of Mum and Dad. They visited Lynn and Frances this afternoon and I guess they went on to the Stonehouse Inn afterwards. Ally came at 7:30 and we cuddled in the dining room listening to Annie Nightingale on the radio. At about 9 I made eggs and chips and we sat with the plates on our knees watching TV and swilling gallons of tea. Mum and Dad came in later and Ally went home [a funny thing to do on a Friday] but she wants to do her washing in the morning, and an early start is vital.

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