Ally's first ante-natal session with Dr Duck (can that really be her name?) at Paternoster Lane. A sunny and warm morning. We went together hand in hand. I sat in the garden of the methodist chapel until she emerged after about 20 minutes. She is still too early to be inspected and the doctor put the date of confinement at January 8. The birth can probably take place at the Bradford Royal Infirmary, and Dr Duck sees no impediment in our taking on a pub though advises Ally to give up work before the birth and earlier than she would have to do working at Chestnut House. We walked back to Club Street and I saw her onto a bus.
Denis Healey, now grasping for survival, has accused the PM of 'playing in slaughter' in her reaction to the Falklands victory. This really is lower than anyone has ever stooped in pre-election muck raking. Mrs Thatcher has never, to my mind, taken on a gloating, victorious attitude at our defeat of the Argentinians, and always looks incredibly sad at the very mention of the Falkland isles. Labour is doomed. I'd love to see the SDP in second place, and Roy Jenkins says Labour will poll the lowest vote since 1922. I have told Ally that if a disaster somehow catapults Michael Foot into office then we will be taking the first boat out of the country.
Ally came in this evening close to collapse. The afternoons are not her best time she says, and she rapidly goes off at tea time. We had pork pies and peas, but Ally only had a sparrow's portion. She sat afterwards reading about stretch marks and baby feeding problems. Her condition makes her glum and emotional and at the slightest excuse she'll weep. She could easily get into a state about childbirth. It's so easy for me, isn't it?
Her Majesty was crowned 30 years ago this day. Watched a programme on BBC2 about coronation day. I always find the newsreel of the solemn anointing to be incredibly moving, and if anybody thinks that the Queen will one day abdicate they should take a look at the film because she could never lay aside that crown after making such vows and dedications before God and people. We are not Belgium. Bed at 10 o'clock.
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