Thursday January 20, 1983

 Mama and Papa are in residence at ours and prepared a meal for us whilst we were at our daily labours. So obsessed I am with Patrick Anderson's novel that coming home I missed my stop and got half way to Clayton. I am within seven pages of the end. Could it be curtains for President Charles Whitmore?

Ate pork. Not my favourite roast. Wallowed in the bath and missed some of Top of the Pops. They're all so young these days.

Ally is quite fantastic about Mum & Dad. She usually detests having her 'privacy invaded, but not a murmur of disapproval.

-=-

Wednesday January 19, 1983

 Freezing, but sunny and crisp. We took cups of tea up to Mum and Dad, who have an appointment at the bank at 10:30. To the YP with my Patrick Anderson book. 

Geoff Hemingway gave me £4 for the Bruce Dundas tip. Home at 6 expecting fish fingers, but Mum and Dad say they're taking us to Pizzeria Mamma Mia for dinner - a wonderful surprise. Ally put on her little white and gold number and after a few pre-prandials we went off in the snow to Manningham Lane. We told them about writing to the breweries and they were favourable. Dad asked whether I'd have done anything different if I could wind back the clock ten years. I told him I wouldn't. 

The thought of teaching now makes me shudder, and the thought of general reporting has never been my scene even though I can spot a good news story at three hundred yards. 

Ally and I had seafood pizzas, and Mum and Dad had cannelloni and lasagne, and Papa took the bill. £18 for four with wine and a starter is excellent, I think. Back home in the nifty little Renault for post-prandial drinks of pernod and orange. Watched the beginning of a series about the Cleopatras. It's a bit like Coronation Street, or Crossroads, but with pyramids. Bed at 11:30. Mum and Dad much more jolly today. They had spent the day up at Ingleton and on to Horton and say that the hills look exquisite in snow. I wish them success and happiness.

-=-

Tuesday January 18, 1983

 We got up and Ally, looking out, said it was snowing 'badly'. I sluggishly climbed out of bed and formed my own opinion. She was half right. Boiled eggs with Ally's home made bread is like something sent from the Gods. Her bread cannot be beaten. 

To the YP reading my American thriller. I'm obsessed with it. After going out at lunchtime to post letters to the breweries I returned to the office looking like a snowman and sat reading my novel behind the filing cabinets. It shrieks of Watergate, but is so good. Ally phoned whilst I was hiding behind the cabinets and Margo came to find me. At 4 Mum phoned to ask to come over and stay the night, but said they's have the bunks. This is stupid. Why should they have the bunks when Ally and I can fit in the bottom one quite easily? I wouldn't give up myh bed for anyone, but Mum and Dad are the exception. Ally, slightly panic stricken at the news, rushed home to vacuum everywhere. They arrived like lost souls at 7:30. We had a few drinks and Ally toddled off to bed at 11. Mum revealed why they have landed with us in Bradford at such short notice. ___________. I consoled her and told her that they could stay with us until they go up to Horton-in-Ribblesdale (Jan 31). Ally is an angel about it all and tries to make them feel wanted. ________.

-=-