Monday March 7, 1983

 Up at 6:44 and into our tub. This redundancy stuff is heavy on my sub-conscious.

At the YP I have a note from Anne (night staff) saying 'no miracle has occurred' whereby she can find the files for the news cuttings I insist on leaving her. Furious, I penned her a note quoting John Eliot, saying something to the effect that miracles 'will not get things done, get up and do it yourself and the Lord will be with you'. I expect an acid reply tomorrow, or even the sack because you know how Kathleen is overly devoted to the night staff. I think that perhaps Anne might be one of the three per cent. (It's company policy for three per cent of the work force to be of low intelligence).

Phoned Ally but didn't say much because someone came to see me and stood hovering. Carol J might be changing her mind. She was in a foul mood all day. Sarah came in to report on her Scarborough visit. They spent their evenings swilling Martini and playing cards.

I phoned Horton-in-Ribblesdale and Lynn answered. We sent her a £5 note for her birthday and she is going to buy perfume. Spoke to Mama. They had a couple stay for the weekend from Cheadle Hulme who have a niece who lives near the Hollywood. She laughed. Frances cannot understand why strange people have been eating breakfast in grandma's house. David in the dog house. He forgot to include Katie's name on Lynn's birthday card.

Tonight we had breast of lamb, and wrote letters to breweries. Tetley's, Matthew Brown and Bass North. Let us hope to God we hear something.

Coronation Street is dull. Ken and Deirdre are still in Malta. Ally is tending to her plants and a James Mason film is on the telly. I've seen it before. It's the one about the Roman Catholic boys school where evil is lurking in the shape of a demon English master who is possessing the minds of the boys. Ally not impressed. We also watched part one of 'My Cousin Rachel' starring Geraldine Chaplin.

-=-

Sunday March 6, 1983

 3rd Sunday in Lent. Last Quarter.

Slept in David's bed. The slaves downstairs seem to begin work at dawn. Up at 10:30. We sat knee-deep in Sunday papers and had a massive cooked breakfast. Definitely fragile. David G fighting fit becaus his drinking capacity has been drastically curtailed in recent years. He drinks half pints, you know. Ally played us a waltz on the piano, now downstairs, and Dave took me down and showed me the barrels in the cellar, and just how to change them. He talked with great pride about his 'dear old dad', who taught him the rudiments of running the Hollywood. After breakfast we walked back to the Armoury. (It seems that the lads have stopped coming to the Hollywood on Sundays. Lily is quite upset about it). The pub was busy and I wanted to sit down and so we crossed the road to the Grapes. It's always the case that I just begin to feel human again when the bar shuts. Much reminiscing about Bournemouth '79 and our antics. Ally suggests a weekend at Blackpool. What fun that would be. Back to the Holly at 2. Chicken. I think we all had a chicken each. Sadie the dog is still looking at me as though I have three heads. We sat with grandad and watched the football and part 48m of 'Dombey and Son' and left at 6:30. Dave promises to visit in a couple of weeks. We were home at 9pm. Exhausted. We watched a programme on the Duke of Wellington's tenure of No 10 Downing Street. A cheap production. To bed at 10:30. Lynn was 25 today.

-=-

Saturday March 5, 1983

 Our alarm woke us at 7, but it was too late really and we splashed in the bath like hyper-active porpoises. We left at 9:30 with our belongings in two bags, like vagrants, and headed to the bus stop. We arrived at the bus station with five minutes to spare and left for Manchester at 9:45. Ally in a pair of striped dungarees. Like a sexy Andy Pandy. Whatever happened to him? Manchester in an hour, and Stockport half an hour after that. I found Edgeley too, which is something of a fete. Found Glynnie thinner. Lily her jovial self. Joined the lads at a wine bar where the barmaid resembled a Mohican warrior, but looking good with it. Pleasantly pissed we went to Debenham's and took a candid photo of Steve's sister working in 'childrens shoes'. Steve wasn't with us and later we saw him escorting a young lady in town. He pretended not to see us. A massive dinner back at the Hollywood (Hotel). The dog, Sadie, didn't take to me, and cowered in the kitchen. Watched an ancient film on the telly (Diana Dors was 16 and that's years, not stones) and struggled to keep awake. 

At 7 I went into the bar where Lily allowed me to pull a few pints for the 'reglers'. I was slightly flustered when people asked for more than one drink. After an hour we were changed and out to the Armoury. We met the boys and went by taxi to the Chapel House pub, a recently 'done up' spot, full of plastic palms, and ____ men. Garry and Steve spent two hours wondering whether to chat up two young ladies and drove us crazy with their fumbling indecision. Billy enjoyed spinning Ally on a swivel chair. The drinks were warm. We walked a mile, and taxied a mile, and back at the Hollywood we sat with Lily. She terrified us talking about pub management. Couples are, she says, driven wild with temptation to run off with the first person who comes along and buys them a rum and peppermint. She was gloomy about the business to show us the down side, but doesn't deter us.

-=-

Friday March 4, 1983

 A Spring-like day. We slept in the attic room at the top of the house and awakened at 7 when Frances came to our bed whilst Lynn made breakfast. A sweet, old fashioned little thing. We held her up at the window and she gleefully pointed at the sheep in the fields opposite.Katie has a cold and is in her cot gasping and snoring. Poor little thing. We had boiled eggs and toast. I went at 8 down the lane and got a bus to Leeds. Ally waved me off nursing Frances. David took her to Bradford because he has a meeting there at 9:30. At the YP Kathleen is still off and Sarah is in Scarborough with Austin-Clarke. Carol says it will be a wrench to leave the library but that it has to be done. I say that we must have a joint booze-up when our 'severance' occurs and Ally and the President Carter look-alike must be included. She agrees. I am now feeling easier about going. Obviously, I'm nervous. It's the only thing I have done since leaving school. For ten years I've been encased in this concrete block with no windows.

Ally phoned saying she is hungover. Went to 'my' Park Square and had a chicken and mushroom pie. Home on the bus reading a magazine dedicated  to our historic houses recently demolished to make way for adventure playgrounds and coal miners' social clubs. Very depressing. We ate liver and onions with tons of mashed potato. Ally in her 'Andy Pandy' dungarees and white shoes. She says Lynn and Dave do not share our enthusiasm about a pub, and that Lynn cannot take it in that I'm willing to accept voluntary redundancy. They must think I am a fixture at the YP. ________.

News: Watched the 9 o'clock news. The Queen in the US. Her Majesty's jewels are bigger than Nancy Reagan's. Prince William has arrived in Scotland. The Prince of Wales on an omniped at a youth club. Glynnie phoned at 8 to confirm our booking. To bed at 9:42.

-=-

Thursday March 3, 1983

 YP hideous. Some workmen have gone up to the mezzanine floor and painted it with a canary yellow/pink combination. The smell of the paint and the diabolical rush of colour has given me a throbbing head.

At lunch time I went to the building society and deposited the sum of £5. Ridiculous maybe, but the sum is building up. The woman on the counter always looks at me with contempt. Silly cow. 

Ally phoned. She hasn't found a Denbyware egg cup for Lynn, and so we'll just give her money instead. I had my usual salmon sandwich on a bench in Park Square, but had to fight off the hungry pigeons. 

Home to Ally, head throbbing on the bus all the way, reading the YP magazine account of the Lofthouse pit disaster of 1973. Hardly the sort of story to put in the rag when the miners are on strike killing old ladies and holding the nation to ransom. I'd like to put Arthur Scargill down a mineshaft and fill it in. Who wouldn't? 

Ally in a dressing gown painting her nails. I took some pills and got in the bath. Recover somewhat. Watched the pathetic Christine Keeler on Nationwide regurgitating the Profumo Affair. She looks like someone you'd find behind a fish and chip shop counter in a Leeds backstreet.

Ally wearing a new blouse covered in tiny hearts. We had cheese and crackers and watched 'Crossroads' waiting for David B to come from his squash club, or wherever he goes on a Thursday evening. He came at 7:30 and drove us, puffing on a large cigar, to Guiseley. He is very serious these days. Lynn, pink, and breast feeding Katie, was watching the TV without sound so not to disturb Frances. We had a few glasses of sherry. David and I were despatched to the fish and chip shop and we called on John on the way. ________________.We ate at 9. The well stocked drinks cabinet was opened and Lynn gave us chocolate liqueuer, just to get ride of it. Bed there at 12.

-=-

Wednesday March 2, 1983

 Some rain. I went out in a pair of striped blue canvas shoes which looked ridiculous on a damp Lidget Green morn. [Large deletion]. At lunchtime I telephoned Mum. They are decorating at Horton. She bubbled as usual and hadn't heard from any of the others. Some of my siblings don't know how to dial.

All whispers at the YP. So many people say they are going. Spoke to one in EP features, and one EP reporter says he wants to open a book shop. Mrs Slocombe is back with her face sewn up and looks like something from a Boris Karloff  movie.

Omelettes and beans at 6. We sat on the settee for three hours. _________. After 'Dallas' Ally took to her bed. The news was read by John Humphrys who I always think looks like a ventriloquist's dummy. The Queen is enduring floods and tornadoes  with the Reagans in Santa Barbara. One of President Reagan's aides has described HM as 'a trooper' for sticking to the schedule despite the weather. It will take more than a bit of inclement weather to deter the Queen from sticking to her agenda.

I have been thinking about Timothy Taylor's. Will my redundancy money be enough to cover a tenancy? We shall have to go along and see Lord Ingrow. For two weeks we have thought of little else than pubs and our future.

A programme on TV about 'old wives tales' was interesting. Cows do not sit down when it is about to rain.

Bed at 10 o'clock.

-=-

Tuesday March 1, 1983

 St David's Day

Spring is in the air. I left Ally at 8 laden with piles of wet washing. Sunshine today. Mrs Slocombe is off having cosmetic surgery and no doubt be back tomorrow looking like Nancy Reagan. Sarah was glum for most of the day. _________. I went to look for (birthday) presents for Lynn and Dave at lunchtime and found myself in a junk shop. Junk immediately springs to mind when one thinks of the Bakers. They love old retro stuff. Phoned Ally and spoke in sweet whispers.

Home: sandwiches. Ally ironed. I brewed lager and looked at some stagnant wine. The lemon wine has been in the demijohn since January, 1982.

News: The Queen's tour of the USA has been messed up by rotten weather. The storms are so bad that the Royal Yacht is incapacitated. How many US presidents has the Queen seen off in her reign? I think that Ronald Reagan is her eighth. I can never remember whether Truman or Eisenhower came first. You cannot beat the coninuity of monarchy, can you? Nancy Reagan might be the bees knees in 1983 but where will she be in 1989? The Queen must have a good laugh about the comings and goings over the Atlantic. The miners are now coming out in force now that the water workers are nicely back. ______.

Wrote to Sam Smith's brewery at Tadcaster and squabbled with Ally about it. I'm an awkward writer when not writing foolishly or passionately. Watched a play on the BBC. Bed at 10:40.

-=-

Monday February 28, 1983

 At the YP Betty phoned from photo sales to say the pic of my grandparents is ready and I went down with a cheque. She said I look very much like my grandmother. Nobody has ever said that before. Left the ofice at 4 and went to the National Coach Station and bought a couple of tickets for Saturday's visit to Stockport. Another cheque. £5.50 this time. I queued for ten minutes behind a guy buying a return ticket to Plymouth only to find he was £2 short and had to go away empty handed grumbling into his anorak. 

Dined on avocado and prawns and breast of lamb. I was home an hour early and we met on the doorstep in a grip of passion.  'Coronation Street' and 'Panorama'. Poor old Sir Keith Joseph is far from 100 per cent.

The Queen is taking the USA by storm. Her Majesty's first tour of the west coast. Blimey, I haven't mentioned Peter Tatchell, have I? Last Thursday he suffered defeat in the election at Bermondsey to the Liberal SDP candidate. (Michael) Foot is done for. Labour is dead and David Steel will be leader of the opposition in May, 1984. That is if Roy Jenkins doesn't get his way. Perhaps I should say Lord Jenkins, OM, CH, GCVO, PC.

-=-

Sunday February 27, 1983

 2nd Sunday in Lent. Full Moon.

Christopher.

Up at about 10 for a full-English breakfast. Mum listens to Radio 4, or something equally obscure and we sat tackling our eggs and bacon to the strains of 'I Know That My Redeemer Liveth' which Dad says was his father's favourite music. I sat outside sketching Waltergarth to illustrate their brochure. They seemed to like it. A cloud hung over Peny-ghent (or pen-y-ghent?), but it doesn't stop the party of Japanese hikers with great yellow back packs assaulting the south face. We left at 11:30 and went to Yeadon where Dad bought bits of wire at a DIY store. Some members of the cast of Emmerdale Farm were buying tins of gloss paint. On to Sue's. Today is Christopher's first birthday. Sue gave a party at which a conglomeration of Rhodeses and Nasons attended. Christopher danced around in a frenzy for five hours. The boy has the energy of Ajax. Frances was wearing a kilt like a grown up girl. Katie remains a fried egg. Dave came and went to do his double glazing. John came in with Janette which was a surprise because we were told she was going home for the weekend. ____________. To Lynn's after Sue had put the birthday boy to bed. More sandwiches and coffee. Mum and Dad brought us back to Club Street at 9:20.

-=-

Saturday February 26, 1983

 Up at 6:44, my usual hour during the week. We took breakfast clad only in our under garments and went off to get a bus to Skipton at 9-ish. We scurried around Skipton buying biege dungarees for Christopher and Cadbury's Creme Eggs and silly wrapping paper. Ally in her green boots wearing one of my shirts with the collar standing up. Delectable. At 11:30 we got on a coach containing seven old ladies, all in those horrible pale-blue raincoats. The driver went like a bat out of hell to Settle. We sat biting each others creme eggs. Messy. The seven old ladies climbed off at Gargrave. We met Mum and Dad at Settle at 12:15 and drove to Stainforth and sat in a pub until 3. Showed then Auntie Annie's letter leaving out the photo of Albert and Ruth which we are saving for a surprise. The pub landlady from South Yorkshire was broader than she was tall, drawing on a cigarette, and talking very loudly about Morecambe. Back at Waltergarth. The first day off my parents have had in weeks. Dad slumbered in the chair. Mum spoke about her aunt, Harriet Basham. We dined at 7 by candlelight and collapsed afterwards. The new cooker cost a few pounds short of £700. To bed at 12 after Terry Wogan, someone on TV that Dad actually likes.

-=-

Friday February 25, 1983

 Fog today. Deep, deep fog. YP. Kathleen has told Austin-Clarke of my departure. Feel no terror but that might come with time. I have chosen a bad time to make myself redundant with 86m unemployed, but if I don't go now I never will. Phoned Mum and told her we will see her tomorrow. They were thinking about coming to see us but my request was accepted. They had Jim & Margaret last weekend and Jim did the plumbing. They gave them jugged hare for dinner.

Tonight we had chilli con carne and bean sprouts. Very hot. Ally dashed about packing for tomorrow. _____. A horrible American detective drama on TV. Tiresome. I looked at Pepys. It's annoying the way he bursts into French when writing anything remotely saucy. I kept nudging Ally for a translation. To bed after 10.

-=-

Thursday February 24, 1983

Ruth & Albert (not the image mentioned)

 I was wallowing in the bath and Ally came bounding up the stairs with a letter from Auntie Annie Kirk containing a bundle of photographs from various Rhodes occasions spanning the decades. One of Uncle John's first wedding (to Betty) with poor Grandma Rhodes looking seriously ill. (It was the year she died, I think), and a splendid 1930s/40s portrait of Grandma and Granddad Rhodes, a tatty little sepia print, which I took to Betty at YP photo sales who made me a copy neg and a couple of prints for £4.50. I shall present one to Papa. Photos of Albert and Ruth are incredibly rare. I feel very pleased with myself for landing it. Auntie Annie says that when she is gone it would only have been thrown away.

Ally had a rewarding afternoon speaking to a Mr Tarbuck at Whitbreads and tonight we compiled a letter to the pleasant little man asking for an application form. Then, feeling particularly snoopy, we went on foot to the Traveller's Rest on Duckworth Lane (a Whitbread's training pub) where we sat watching the bar staff through great billowing coulds of smoke. We detest tobacco fumes, but that's a thing we'll have to learn to die with, I suppose. After two pints of Stella I felt and looked pissed. We have decided to go to Horton on Saturday by bus. I must ring Mama tomorrow. Fish and chips from over the road and then Sir Robin Day on the BBC. A.J.P. Taylor is a gas. Bed after 11.

-=-

Wednesday February 23, 1983

 We received a letter from the nasty Mr Sutcliffe declining our offer of employment. It is his misfortune, not ours. Ally came home at lunchtime and found the letter on the door mat. She phoned me at the office and asked me not to be disappointed. She is a brick. She spent the afternoon ringing round other breweries. Tetley's, Whitbread, &c.

At home we tried not to be depressed. The crisis between Deirdre and Ken on Coronation Street has come to a head. Not a dry eye in the nation, I shouldn't wonder. Mike Baldwin was sent packing.

At 8 I phoned Stockport and spoke to Glynnie. We haven't seen him since October. I told him of our brewery aspirations and he was dumbfounded. We are going over on March 5.

-=-

Tuesday February 22, 1983

 Busy Spring-like morn. Splashing in the bath I told Ally that we should go to Colne to pick the brains of her aged aunts for stories of her lineage. Auntie Annie must be a hive of information.

Anther breakfast waiting for the post, which didn't materialise before our departure.

Steve O'Connor's secretary dashed down the garden path and and posted his specification for our new roof. £850 for the lot and that's going cheap.

The bus was flooded with light and I scowled all the way to Leeds. YP its usual cheerful self. I was honoured to be received in audience by Mr W.J. Austin-Clarke this afternoon and he told me details of my severance payment. He was sat peeping over his desk like a garden gnome with tiny black eyes, like buttons. I would receive £4,782. No golden handshake by any means, but not to be sneezed at. It was the only time I have spoken to Mr A-C since my interview in 1973.

Ally made omelette and salad and we sat talking about redundancy and pubs. We are held in agonising suspense and everything is in the hands of Mr Sutcliffe at Viking Taverns.

News: Her Majesty is going to have to do something about the Press. The Sun newspaper has been prevented by the High Court from publishing something this morning - the so called confessions of a palace servant. Todays article was to be 'What Di said to me about her strapless dress'. _________.

Ally sat on the floor going through her old cheque books stubs settling our accounts and working out just what we don't have. She's seen a few nice things in 'Cheap 'n Cheerful' and wants to know how much we have in our large whisky bottle. On the last count in September we had £40.

An evening of tranquil repose. Married life is perfect. It could really catch on if only people tried it. Read Pepys and adjourned to bed.

-=-

Monday February 21, 1983

 Washington's Birthday Observance

I object to see 'Washington's Birthday Observance' printed here on this page. There is no page headed 'Queen Victoria's Birthday Observance', and if you expect to see 'Horatio, Lord Nelson's Birthday Observance' then you can forget it. The publishers of WH Smith desk diaries sucking up to the Yanks.

Ally leapt into the bath and I lingered in bed. She was yelling abuse in the direction of the little _____ postman as he passed us by without depositing any mail in our box. We giggled, kissed goodbye and parted for 10 hours. Ugh.

At the YP Margo informed me that Carol is engaged to the President Carter look-alike ....

to be coninued.

-=-

Sunday February 20, 1983

 1st Sunday in Lent

A day of industry. We got up reasonably early again. Ate great chunks of Ally's bread. I set about my brewing and filled twenty large bottles with ale, and then sat down to coffee and cake and we watched Peter Sellers and Irene Handl in 'Heavens Above'. Crufts afterwards. Welsh corgis leaping through hoops and picking up the correct handkerchief, &c. Football afterwards and I sat through that but took down from my bookcase the abridged Pepys and read 1660-1663 - very pleasurable. I have a great desire to obtain the Matthews/Latham diary in nine volumes at £12 each. One day, Michael. Ally has been cleaning and smells like a SRN (I blame the disinfectant). We had a Sunday feast. Yorkshire puddings, brisket, cauliflower cheese, parnsips, new potatoes (Egyptian) and carrots. A splendid repast.  

-=-

Saturday February 19, 1983

 Our alarm sounded at 8 o'clock, a disgusting hour for a Saturday. We lay grousing at each other for half an hour before heading out to town where we got a bus to Shipley for Ally to visit her dentist for a check-up. He gave her a clean costing £3.50. On to the market and we returned home at 12 with bags of vegetables and meat. We ate bacon and eggs.

-=-

Friday February 18, 1983

 Ally was bounding around waiting for the postman but he brought nothing from Viking Taverns. She does resemble her Auntie Annie, over in Colne.

At the YP a ghastly day. Kathleen and Sarah stood around loudly discussing the alterations to the working day that will be put into place when Carol and I are gone. ________. Mr Lawler is to see us all individually to tell us what we are due.

Home in the daylight. I sat downstairs on the omnibus to avoid inhaling tobcco smoke. The upper deck often resembles an Australian bush fire. We had lasagne and rosé wine. Ally was sneezing and pale and went up to bed with 'Cold Comfort Farm', but ten minutes later she was tucked up with no intention of reading. 

I watched the news. Her Majesty has arrived in Acapulco, Mexico. A little Scotsman is celebrating in the water workers pay dispute.

One of the Sunday papers contained a fun tale. The Queen Mother dislikes President Jimmy Carter because he is, she says, the only man to have kissed her on the lips since the death of her dear husband. The affrontery. Unlike most people I don't have the opportunity to look at the Sunday papers until Friday.

I watched Dorothy Tutin in a play on BBC2. I phoned Mum. Her new cooker is in. A man from the quarry stayed at Waltergarth last night but declined the full-English breakfast. Historic. He was their first paying guest. Auntie Eleanor's house is up for sale. Where can she be going? An artist at Horton is to paint Waltergarth. She sounded like an excited young girl. The move has been great for them. I slumbered in a chair and woke at 11:50.

-=-

Thursday February 17, 1983

 I stood at the window watching Ally at her bus stop. She couldn't wave because she was standing next to a funny man with a beard. 

I went to the YP and told Kathleen I want to see the financial director to see how much severance pay I am due. Carol had been yesterday to get her claim in first. Up with the chief K hears that they will take two volunteers from the library. Poor Sarah was glum all day. A festive air hung over the editorial floor. Everyone wants to go. People all over the office are talking about buying 'a guest house in Kendal'. The EP feature writers are considering buying a fish and chip shop. Sadly, the newspapers to wrap them in will be scarce.

Derek (Jenkins) hasn't discussed Ally's day off. He is no doubt keeping it for another day. He does like to spring things on her. Ally looked washed out. We talked about redundancy. The thing with me is that I've had such a dull ten years and have taken no risks since packing in school at 18. Take the money and run is my feeling on this, and I want so much to run. Come on Mr Sutcliffe, give us a job!

Two certificates have arrived. Ruth Allen Upton, my grandmother, was born at 11, Green Wall, Lewes, Sussex, on September 3, 1900. We, and she, always celebrated her birthday on August 31. _______. She was registered on Oct 16 1900. Dad had a fit. For 48 years he has been celebrating his mum's birthday on the wrong day. The other certificate is the marriage of my great-grandparents John Wilson and Rella Fawbert at Calverley Parish Church on May 2, 1874. The marriage was witnessed by John William Patchett, who on the census is the son of Edward Fawbert, and thus Rella's half brother. Robert Rendell was the other witness to the marriage. 

-=-

Wednesday February 16, 1983

 We got up at 6:30 with no feelings of trepidation and only a mood of confidence can be said to have dominated the breakfast of eggs and toast. It is Ally's idea to go to Hipperholme ridiculously early in case anything untoward should befall the bus driver en route and make us late for the interview. We went out at 8:15 looking suitably 'interviewish'. We sped to Hipperholme on bus so dirty it was impossible to see out of the windows. An amiable bus driver put us off at the correct stop. It was 9:20, bitterly cold, and an hour and ten minutes early. Unlike most sane people who would, in a situation like this, have gone and found a cafe and have a cup of tea, we stood in an open bus shelter full of broken bottles, and covered in graffiti proclaiming 'Huddersfield Town is Shit' &c. Into the Viking Taverns building at 10. Mr Sutcliffe made himself known to us and offered us coffee. At 10:30 we went downstairs to a cavern (like a pub without a bar) and were joined by four other couples of similar appearance to us, all mid-20s. Ally took an immediate dislike to Mr Sutcliffe, but I failed to see why. He was only trying to make us feel at ease. We were all subjected to a maths test. "If a man gives you a £10 note for £3.75 worth of drink, how much change do you give him?" That sort of thing. Then we had to answer 187 questions on personality. i.e. "If your next door neighbour squashed your cat with his Aston Martin would you a). weep, b). get another cat, c).let his tyres down. I enjoyed that bit though Mr Sutcliffe seemed to think we'd find it disturbing. At 12 we went up to the Hare and Hounds (a Viking Tavern) to await a second personal interview. We went in at 2:30. It was a quick ten minutes and he barely touched on anything. Ally found it most disturbing. If successful we would start as trainees on £7,800, a joint salary, and says we could have our own pub within a year. It could mean going to Sale, Cheshire, as relief managers, &c. We'll hear within two weeks. We left in the cold and drizzle and got a bus to Halifax and then a bus to Bradford via Shelf. I could take redundancy next week and find myself in a new job the week after. In at 4:30. Early to bed.

-=-

Tuesday February 15, 1983

 Gloom at the YP. We went before Gerry Holbrook, the managing director, who told us he wants 200 redundancies before August 31. I have a feeling I'd like the redundancy money which could be as much as £4,000.

At home Ally set me some sums and gave all the house plants a drink. We've ignored them since Christmas.

Some Ghastly animal rights people have sent letter bombs to the Ministry of Agriculture and others. This 'save the fur and feather brigade' really annoy me. We ate the straying liver tonight. It didn't seem to be any the worse for its over night stay at the Bradford Area Health Authority. Apparently a cleaning lady chased her down the street with the offending offal.

Glynnie phoned. He never changes.Andrew is 19 today. We sent him a fiver. Saw part 2 of 'Masada'.

Bed at 11 with no qualms about tomorrow.

-=-

Monday February 14, 1983

 Valentine's Day

(Sickly Valentine slushy stuff)

We arrived home from our daily labours to discover a calamity. Ally had left a pack of lamb's liver on her desk at Chestnut House and subsequently our evening fayre was severely compromised. Fish and chips from over the road proved conciliatory. Ally knows that with fish and chips I am easily appeased. No need to go to ACAS. We watched the news and Peter O'Toole in something called 'Masada'. A good old Roman epic. Ally disappeared to bed at 9:20 and I went up to join her after a few more crucifixions.

Her Majesty has gone off to Jamaica, the Cayman Islands, USA, &c. Some of our Caribbean friends, it seems, would like independence from the Crown, but the sight of the flag waving natives doesn't seem to verify this.

-=-

Sunday February 13, 1983

 Quinquagesima.  New Moon.

We woke up at 8:30 to the sound of a full blooded party going on. Lynn and Dave went off home. The queue for bacon sandwiches looked like something from the Warsaw Ghetto. All the overnight guests seemed to leave in a hurry. Poor Auntie Mabel had slept in an armchair and Mum had shared a bed with the pregnant Karen. Mum and Dad looked after the babies and we head to the Crown for lunch with Jim and Margaret. John and Janette followed but sat in the other bar. The chicken was greasy and cold. We signed Mum's visitors book at 3 and departed for Bradford - all listless and sombre. We left Mum and Dad by a roaring fire. As soon as we were in it was straight to bed.

-=-

Saturday February 12, 1983

 Up with the larks and inspect the snow-capped Pen-y-ghent from the kitchen window. Bacon and eggs in the kitchen full of overall clad workmen and tottering babies. Christopher and Frances look so like twins. 'Where are the stairs?' asked Franny. 

Afterwards Ally, Lynn, Frances, Sue, Pete, Christopher and I went for a walk into the village. We peered over the bridge and debated whether we were looking down at the River Ribble. Dad told me it was the Cam. One I've never heard of. We bought jelly babies (male ones, because you get more) and a couple of bottles of lemonade from the village store and walked back to Waltergarth. I am so happy that Mum and Dad have found the right place.

John and Janette climbed out of bed at 12 and we walked down to the Crown for drinkies. Ally told them of our forthcoming interview next Wednesday. Lynn and Dave didn't join us. He was sorting out the chimney so that we can have a fire in the grate tonight. We sat by the fire, in Wellington boots, and the usual raucous banter ensued in the way it always does when Susie is present. Back to the house at 3.

Mabel, Marlene, Frank [bearded], Mark and Debbie arrived. Auntie took me on one side and asked who the mysterious young lady is. I told her she's John's girlfriend. I just got a look. Jim, Margaret, Hilda, Tony, Karen, Steve, Tim, Jill, Diane, and Paul arrived. Waltergarth is the ideal sort of house for a party. The sort of place Ayckbourn could stage one of his farces in. We drifted around the rooms in varying degrees of intoxication and some bright spark suggested going off to the pub - the Crown - and so we all went down the village on shifts, because of the numerous babies. Ally did something odd with her neck during the siege of the bridge as we ran to the pub, and she stood by the fire with a crème de menthe looking pained. It's hard to write an account of an event when one has blurred recollections of the events which took place. I remember talking to Marlene. The rest is a blur. I accidentally bit Ally's finger whilst nibbling her sandwich, and evicted the snoozing Janette from a bed to put Ally therein.

-=-

Friday February 11, 1983

 The ususal sort of day one would expect to have at the YP. Kathleen didn't mention my proposed redundancy but I take that to mean she doesn't want to throw Sarah into a trauma.

Phoned Ally. We are excited about the Horton weekend. Home, in daylight, at 5. We had a baked potato. I burned my mouth. Saw Pavarotti on 'Nationwide'.

John and Miss Drysdale came at 8 and we drove to Horton-in-Ribblesdale. Janette doesn't feel well and blames the damp flat. They wake up dripping wet in the mornings. We're at Waltergarth for 9 and have a guided tour. The place isn't as dilapidated as I was expecting. Mum and Dad are thrilled and beaming about everything. The others are assembled. Lynn has a haircut like Ally's. Baby Katie bigger. Sue thriving and on good form. We had bowls of stew and light refreshment and pile in the sitting room (formerly a bedroom) with a 30s tiled fireplace. We were all tired and far from the riotous crowd of yesteryear. Janette looked far from well. We talked with Mum, Dad and John about double glazing the whole house. Everest want £10,000. A disgrace.

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