Wednesday September 7, 1983

New Moon

5 Club Street, Lidget Green, Bradford

Home on the first train again getting to Bradford for 9am. We saw Sir Peter Parker, chairman of British Rail, running across York station in his bowler hat. Ally phoned her Dad to enquire about a bank loan for a new car. We want £2,500 or £3,000. He sees no reason why we cannot have one. He is going to deal with the manager of 69, Market Street, and so it is the open road and here we come again. Phoned Mum. They are coming to see Sue and suggest a meeting._______. Ally has doubts about moving our furniture to Middlesbrough. Frank is furious about it. I phoned Colin Black telling him we will have to pay £200 to move our humble belongings and he says 'hire a van'. We do not like this idea. We will go back to Middlesbrough and buy new stuff up there, or second hand, and sell it when we move on, leaving Club St untouched. We went to look at cars. Unimpressed by the Ford Fiesta which we thought tinny. We took a fancy to the Mini Metro at Albert Farnell's. We saw a red one, two years old, 9,000 miles on the clock, £3,000. Came away without one and decide to buy one in Middlesbrough. Found Mum, Dad, Sue, Christopher, Lynn, Frances and Katie at Club St. They'd been and got the key from Mary. The children were all horribly over-tired and fretful. Lynn was in a foul mood and had been forced to come. _______. David arrived and they all went taking the kids at 6:30. Katie is to be christened in Oct/Nov and we were commanded to be present. Lynn fails to realise that we are now committed. Restful evening with Mum and Dad. John and Janette arrived at 7:30. He is thinking of going into business with a colleague (Steve Ettenfield) . Janette has been sacked from her job as a waitress at the White Cross, chatting with someone in the loo, she referred to the landlady as a 'silly old cow' unaware that she was sitting quietly in the lavatory. Bed after 12.

-=-

Tuesday September 6, 1983

 Linthorpe Hotel, Middlesbrough

The Why Not?

Colin Black saw us this morning and informed me that I am to take out a protection order and become the temporary licensee of 'The Why Not?' at Hemlington, just two miles away. A Mr Fogarty, the incumbent licensee is flitting to Surrey on September 16 and we are to take up residence there on that day. Shock. Horror. Gasp. Thrill. Roy took us to see the place at 2. A pleasant place with good decor, but according to little Mr Fogarty it has a very rough, hooligan clientel. Mrs F is a shrinking violet who wouldn't say boo to a goose. Roy doesn't like them and he kept giving me old fashioned looks, if you get my drift. Back at the Linthorpe we took a lot of leg pulling. "If you have a full set of teeth in the Why Not you're a puff"..... Nevertheless we are going and are determined to make a go of it. Colin Black wants us to bring furniture from Club Street and we decide to go home tomorrow to arrange things. We could be at the Why Not for two months until a permanent manager can be found and installed. We decide we now want a car. It all falls into place quite easily when you put your mind to it. Ally and I opened up at 5:30. Busy. Middlesbrough played v. Newcastle Utd at Ayresome Park. We were rushed off our feet by 6:30. The staff found the idea of the Why Not a huge joke, but Ally decides it's jealousy.

-=-

Monday September 5, 1983

 Linthorpe Hotel, Middlesbrough

Vault all day. A busy afternoon. I was inundated by a large group of college lecturers all wanting chilli con carne and chips. Roy came to assist and laughed at my lack of preparation. I wasn't expecting so many people. The vault on a Monday afternoon has always been stone dead in the eight weeks since we began here. The rota for the week is done. We are off on Wednesday, and Thursday morning. Colin Black is coming from the brewery tomorrow when Tim Whelan takes on the temporary licence of the Master Cooper, and goes to court, &c. Will Black have news for us?

Is HRH The Princess of Wales once again 'with child'? The tabloids report that has flown to London (from Scotland) to see her gynaecologist. Will we have a Princess Victoria is May or June? Or ....

1). Louise

2). Elizabeth

3). Charlotte

4). Alexandra

5). Caroline

6). Diana

7). Mavis

8). Muriel

9). Doreen

10). Carol

11). Jennifer

12). Carol

13). Crystal

14). Phyllis

15). Pearl

16). Suzanne

17). Blodwin

18). Janice

-=-

Sunday September 4, 1983

 14th Sunday after Trinity

Linthorpe Hotel, Middlesbrough

Marie gave us some of the Barnes pork joint for our lunch. We ate on trays and watched TV. Pork shouldn't be pink, and this was at the centre. One can easily get the shits, but we escaped attack. 

What are we to call our son? Samuel is still touch and go. I like Oliver ... but Oliver Lawrence Dixon would make him OLD Rhodes. Would that be a dreadful cross to bear through his life? How about Oliver Dixon Lawrence? As for a girl ... Clementine has never been in question since that hot day in Ios in 1981.

-=-

Saturday September 3, 1983

 Linthorpe Hotel, Middlesbrough

Mags: Who's Sorry Now?

Not too bad. Ally and I were up at dawn, but nobody else surfaced. Connie Francis and 'Who's Sorry Now' was still ringing in my ears from Mags's singing at 5am and I bet quite a few people are sorry now going by the vast array of unwashed glasses and half eaten sausage rolls. Kieran came down at 10 and annoyed Ally by screaming and clowning whilst she was adding up. Sally's till was £19 down. Middlesbrough played Leeds Utd and it ended in a draw. A busy afternoon with thirsty football supporters. Afterwards, laying on our bed we could hear the mob over at Ayresome Park chanting and stamping. The barbecue was rained off again. A hot evening and a lengthy one in the bar. To bed early. Jon-Paul is a good worker. He's surnamed Sale and sounds very 'county'. His nephew christened tomorrow is named Tobias Crispin Norman.

-=-

Friday September 2, 1983

 Linthorpe Hotel, Middlesbrough

With JT.

Rain. Roy and Marie back. They say they have had no winners at York Races. Roy came into the lounge and shyly thanked me for looking after the place. Later he and Marie spent ages in the office looking at the books making sure we haven't embezzled the weekly takings. They say I was wrong to cash a cheque from Jake ___ but say it's all part of the learning experience. He would like to stop cashing cheques himself and advises me never to start doing it. Jake then came in and gave me a crisp £20 note. I could have kissed him. Roy observed this touching scene and rushed up to Jake and got £5 from a previous debt. As the great bard said: 'Neither a borrower, nor a lender be'. A wild night. Roy was presented with a watch by his devoted staff and after closing Marie prepared a buffet and the the revelry went far into the night. Ally stayed up until late and we took ridiculous photographs. Pissed.

-=-

Thursday September 1, 1983

 Linthorpe Hotel, Middlesbrough

Ally reminds me it's Martyn Cole's birthday. It is also Roy's. He is away of course and I am running the Linthorpe Hotel. Well, I'm standing around wearing a tie, making sure everything is ticking over, and looking suitably managerial. Roy keeps a staff, and a large staff at that, working flat out all day. Today the morning routine jobs were over for 9 o'clock and we sat twiddling our thumbs. Everything looking spick and span. The staff have been very good and so tonight I bought them all a drink.

-=-

Wednesday August 31, 1983

 Linthorpe Hotel, Middlesbrough

Jan made a cock-up of breakfast and didn't realise we were eating and that Mum and Dad were here. However, we did eventually sit down and ate crammed in a corner looking at the chimney. We went out to the shops after and went on to Yarm, a nice town like Otley or Skipton, where we had coffee and buns in a tea shop. Dad seems obsessed by cream buns. They think Ally looks bigger and decide that the lump is not all at the front which usually means the baby is a boy. Honestly, we have no preference. From Yarm we went back through Stockton-on-Tees to the Linthorpe for lunch outside. Chicken curry and gin. Feeling wan. In basket chairs. They left at 2. It was sad to say goodbye. We'll be going for a holiday to Horton shortly - I hope. When their car disappeared we went to bed and slept heavily. This evening Roy & Marie went away to the Selby Fork Hotel (It's Roy's birthday tomorrow) and Ally and I are left at the helm. A quiet night with no upsets and the staff behaved excellently and didn't linger too long afterwards. Mags was good too, and faded into the background. The old Alsatian dog, Saxon is, according to the vet, depressed. Mags says she is not surprised because he is 11 and has never had his leg over.

-=-

Tuesday August 30, 1983

 Linthorpe Hotel, Middlesbrough

Ally, Dad and Mum at the Linthorpe.

It is a most beautiful sensation to feel our child moving in its mother's womb. Tiny, pulsating movements. We went down and had one of Jan's breakfasts and then went up again and had a bath in readiness for Mum and Dad's visit. We sat outside on the wall and they got here at about 2. It was so good to see them. We sat in the sun and then in lounge 1. Mum had cherries in her whisky (!!) and took to Dave the barman who was cheeky and pleasant. Joined by Marie and Charlie and Dad frowned at the sight of Marnie behind the bar. She is only 14. The four of us went on to Redcar. Hideous. Like Siberia, only more bleak and desolate. To the Highfield Restaurant at 5:30 for a four hour nosh-up. All on big steaks, though Ally is off them now that she can't eat them rare. Spent £42 on the four, but a good dinner. Back to the Linthorpe. It isn't Mum and Dad's sort of place but we sat in the corridor. I was pissed. We joined Roy and staff in the lounge after closing. Drank Campari sodas. Headache. To bed at 12:30 after coffee in Mum's room.

-=-

Monday August 29, 1983

 Bank Holiday in UK (except Scotland)

Linthorpe Hotel, Middlesbrough

Our first Bank Holiday Monday at the other side of a bar. Quiet really. It seems that the good people of Middlesbrough escape to the coast on public holidays. Ally is laying the law down with the boys in the bar sending them for crisps and nuts and crates of diet pils. We did a good deal of laughing. Roy was nowhere to be seen. At 12 Roy emerged with books and files and took us to the dining room where he left us reading up on the licensing laws and Sam Smiths company policy, &c. The sun was blazing down and we observed people drifting in and out from behind the net curtrains. Lots of the women with punk-like leanings look like men in drag. A barbecue lunch again. Old Mags and Charlie squabbled about going home. They came shortly after we did last month with the intention of staying for four days and stayed six weeks. Mags Snr loathes Darlington and says she's lived 32 years there and still the locals shun her as a foreigner. Mum phoned to verify they are coming to see us tomorrow. She first spoke to William who was lolling on the stairs smoking a cigarette. Tonight we sat with Roy again. I went to the vault at 8:30. A quick slurp after and to bed. Ally is now eager to go out into the world and dispense beer.

-=-

Sunday August 28, 1983

 13th Sunday after Trinity

Linthorpe Hotel, Middlesbrough

8:30 start on Sunday. So much appreciated. No cook so Ally had to come down and make me scrambled eggs on toast. Sat with Charlie drinking tea. He was a club steward in Darlington in the early '60s and was involved in the 'One Armed Bandit Murder'. Didn't Michael Luvaglio murder Angus Sibbet? It rings a bell ... something like that. Charlie explained how he went about watering down his booze. Old Charlie Poole has had a colourful life. We had a barbecue lunch on the lawn. Ally is really taking the staff in hand and was ordering Jon-Paul and Dave around as though she's been a manageress for years. She doesn't stand any nonsense. I am blessed with a talented, multi-faceted wife.

Wasn't Dickie Mountbatten done to death on this day in 1979, or was it yesterday? No doubt he will have been in the thoughts of those at Balmoral this week. Did I say we had phoned Glynnie when we were home last week?  He was chuffed. They have just buried Garry Barratt's grandfather. I have the feeling that Glynnie thinks we are insane quitting our 'listed' building at Club Street for this hectic life.

-=-

Saturday August 27, 1983

 Linthorpe Hotel, Middlesbrough

Sean.

Horribly hungover. No sympathy from Ally. I certainly didn't get any. Downstairs nobody had surfaced and I did all the 'bottling up' and tidied the garden. Like a zombie and really regretting last night. It's fine for that bloody lot. They can stay in bed all day sleeping it off. I have to be up at 7am regardless. I go about effing and blinding all day. Ally, on the other hand, is speedy, efficient and cool. Slept from 2-5:30 and was better by evening. Everyone in the bar laughing at my 'hedgehog' haircut. In Lounge 1 with Ally and Sean. A quiet night and pleasant. Roy enjoys stirring things and told Ally how he attempted over and over again to persuade me to quit the bar and go to bed last night. Much laughter. At 11:30 I went over to the Chinese takeaway and bought food for Ally, William and I. Went up to bed and lay naked eating our supper watching 'American Graffiti'. Switched off. We'd seen it all before. Read 'The Eagle Has Landed' by Jack Higgins. Slept like a log. Ally, you'll be pleased to hear, has forgiven me.

-=-

Friday August 26, 1983

 Linthorpe Hotel, Middlesbrough

Back to Middlesbrough. Both of us feeling knackered. Great difficulty keeping awake on the 125MPH high speed London to Edinburgh express. To the Linthorpe for 9:30 and up to our room with cups of tea. A pack of new photos await us. I told Marie we'd visited the Red Lion and she said that from the hundreds of couples who passed through the Linthorpe training only two couples, the Willses being one, have failed to keep contact with them. I thought from the tone of the conversation yesterday that they didn't think much of Roy & Marie. Tonight at 11:30 Ally went up to bed after one drink and I sat at the bar with the mob. Old Mags was in stitches. Discussed genealogy with Peter and Kieran and the fallacy that all commoners are descended from Edward III. Horribly pissed. I couldn't escape from the bar and everyone bought me booze as I tried to escape upstairs. Marie informed me that I am to be left in charge for two days next week. Gulp. Roy was pissed and drinking gin and bitter lemon. We argued about Middlesbrough FC. I know as much about Middlesbrough FC as I do about the genetic construction of the male reproductive cells. When Roy took up the microphone and started singing 'I Left My Heart in San Francisco' I knew it was time for bed and went upstairs after falling over the ironing board. Ally was fuming like Mount Etna.

-=-

Thursday August 25, 1983

 5, Club Street, Lidget Green, Bradford

Ally's clinic day. She woke me with tea and toast this morning and we sat in our pink, sunny bedroom. We are noy obsessed by 'home' and when we are away we can adapt to any room or rooms with no strain. Home is where we are, if that's not too corny. I have a haircut and come away looking like Shakin' Stevens. Ally had a trim too, and we went and sat in the clinic. But before this we went to the Red Lion at Girlington where Chris and Elaine Wills (who trained at the Linthorpe last Nov-Jan). They showed us the place. It's very pleasant. We'd love it for ourselves. The little woman took Ally upstairs and showed us the flat which is massive. So, back to the clinic. Ally was weighed and the midwife gasped at her increase in weight. She's now 8st 10 and a half lb. All is well. Ally should be feeling slight movement from the baby now. We left reassured. Ally bought a dress from one of those tiny, obscure shops. It's pretty and wide and has a tiger and a sunset across the front. I gave her some black, plastic earrings and put them in a letter. She cried when I made the presentation. She is an emotional old stick lately. Hannah was one on Tuesday. We sent a birthday card, but no gift. A vast liver stew this evening. I weeded the garden and Ally phoned Bessie. Mum phoned us. They are coming to Middlesbrough on Tuesday. Bed. Jack Higgins, &c.

-=-

Wednesday August 24, 1983

 5, Club St, Lidget Green, Bradford

We headed for home at the crack of dawn. Outside at 6am waiting for our taxi. We saw the old cook lumbering up the road like a Beatrix Potter character. Why does she start work in the dark, and so early, when she doesn't get paid until 7? We hid behind a wall laughing as she shouted up to Roy's bedroom asking to be let in. We were home in a flash and went to the market to buy a joint of beef and vegetables for lunch. Home for 11 and had a vast lunch at 12. ally phoned the girls and at 2:30 Pam brought Lynn and the children over. Lynn looks well and is brown and slim (wearing Ally's dress). She recounted to us a weird tale. Elaine (at John's party last week) dashed out into the night and disappeared and told Dave Allinson (her husband) that John and Peter had attempted to ______. How ridiculous. Dave Allinson has fallen out with Dave B about it. Phoned Susan. Daft as ever. Phoned Mum who was cool, but says they'll visit Middlesbrough next week. Marlene and Frank are staying at Horton until the weekend. Dave B came to collect Lynn at 6 and they went off, gaily. Lynn chattered away non stop and was still blabbering away as the car went down the street. The girls are beautiful. Frances is leggy and naughty and Katie divine. So podgy and pink. We were in bed by 9:30. I'm reading Jack Higgins.

-=-

Tuesday August 23, 1983

Full Moon

 Linthorpe Hotel, Middlesbrough

We had a letter from Lynn this morning which contained some very sad news. David Lazenby was found dead in bed last Thursday. He died in his sleep. I do not profess to have known him well but down the years we have come into contact, usually in a drunken state at parties, and it's horrific to think that he's been taken at such a young age. Poor Peter. He will have taken this badly. John & Janette gave a party on Saturday but hardly anyone attended. Lynn and Elaine (Allinson) attended leaving the two Davids babysitting, and later Elaine disappeared into the night after sobbing in the toilets that Peter, our beloved Peter N, had 'propositioned her'. Oh dear. 

Carolyn Herbert.

The funnies reveal that the photos published yesterday of the willowy Diana-look-alike were not of Sophie Birdwood but of the Hon Carolyn Herbert, Lord Porchester's daughter. We are told that Sophie Birdwood has never met Prince Andrew and she returned from holiday yesterday looking peeved. They must have been wetting themselves up at Balmoral. Carolyn Herbert is a friend of the royals. She would be ideal for Andrew. 

Roy and I cleaned the beer lines. I am not too good at this yet. Roy commented dryly that he can tell that my last job went 'at a slower pace'. You can say that again. Ally was closetted with Marie talking about book keeping and how to spot the vodka addicted cleaning lady. She lay upon the bed this afternoon telling me of the ingenius ways Marie has of spotting a 'fiddler'. Both of us in the lounge tonight.

-=-

Monday August 22, 1983

Linthorpe Hotel, Middlesbrough

Sophie Birdwood.

 The morning 'funnies' (tabloid newspapers) have photos of the Hon Sophie Birdwood returning from Balmoral. They say she is Prince Andrew's new 'gal' after Koo Stark's demise. Sophie is a Selina-Scott-Princess-of-Wales-look-alike. It would be nice if HRH settled down with a willowy, virginal aristo. I am sure he will do before 1993. Unfortunately, Sophie was 'Deb of the Year' in 1982. And I think that the Queen has an aversion to debutantes. 

We have a letter from Mary (Moore) who has fallen and broken some ribs. Betty has suffered a stroke, and Miss Whincup is back from York. We also received a cheque for £800 from the building society which has to go straight to the bank this week. 

I worked in the vault all day. Hideously dismal. Stood looking at Ron Perry's broken nose and re-living the details of his pathetic brawl. I do not think that Roy should entertain him. The place is a home to thugs and villains. Mike Walker from the brewery came to see us. 

-=-

Sunday August 21, 1983

 12th Sunday after Trinity

Linthorpe Hotel, Middlesbrough

A family day. Ally was desperate to see the shire horses but they came and went before we could look at them. I spent the morning cleaning up the mess in the dining room from last night's orgy. Sausages and other morsels on sticks were scattered everywhere. A gang of lads all with dyed blond hair and crates of diet pils lager were responsible. I worked in the lounge 12-2pm. Kids filled the garden and coloured balloons floated above the cloudless skies. Old Mags was slewed and fell around in the kitchen . It's worrying because she must only be topping up - falling over after only a few halves. We had hot dogs later and crept to bed in the afternoon. Worked 8-11 tonight and felt sluggish after a long sleep. I was up and down from the cellar all night changing barrels. At 10:45 in the vault Ron Perry had a brainstorm and attacked Geoff and almost killed the chap. His friend Ian was bashed over the head with a pewter tankard by Norma and he was taken to hospital where they gave him 15 stitches. Bloody fools.

-=-

.

Saturday August 20, 1983

 Linthorpe Hotel, Middlesbrough

What's happening in the news? I simply do not know. I assumed that I would have to carry on reading the newspapers on a daily basis as I did for nine long years. Yet since April, or at least July, I haven't missed them. Is Koo Stark Duchess of York yet? Has Chad been annexed to Libya? How are the PM's eyes? Is David Steel now Viscount Peebles? Ally and I worked 11-2. Later we walked to Hinton's supermarket. Bought a film for the camera and a packet of biscuits for our room. Slept afterwards. Barbecue night. At 12 we went up to bed and Roy assured me that he will follow our example, but at 5am I could quite clearly hear him talking on the microphone. A band had been playing in the dining room and they had a knees up afterwards.

-=-

Friday August 19, 1983

 Linthorpe Hotel, Middlesbrough

Our first pay day as Samuel Smith employees. A historic moment. For the first time in our relationship I earn more than my wife. We received £752.88 for six weeks work. Ally has a throat problem now. It's something going around the hotel staff but only seems to take one victim each week. Charlie Poole is also smitten and he sat coughing into his beard. He's a good sort is Charlie. Ex-RN and apparently, in days gone by, a force to be reckoned with. Now a 54 year-old ruin. It was barbecue night again but I was shut away in the hideous dining room. I have been listening to the exploits of young William (Barnes). I am honoured because he is a silent lad usually - at that awkward stage, 17 in November, and bored senseless. Ally's bump is growing and she looks beautiful. She feels quite different, and looks podgy.

-=-

Thursday August 18, 1983

 Linthorpe Hotel, Middlesbrough

The fire alarm was sounding off all through the night. Up at 7:15 and drank tea with Mags Snr and Charlie. Reports from the party. Sounded riotous. Falstaff and Ophelia didn't fall in until after 4am. We have a letter from Frank and Bessie. The Rev Matthew Lynn is to be translated to the Isle of Wight. Are only bishops translated? Young Matthew has curls just like Graham did as a baby. Andrew is still unemployed and going out with the mysterious Lorraine. Frank's written contribution is a great honour, according to Ally. Busy night. A private party in the dining room. Ally has been having fun in the kitchen. Mags, a hopeless cook, has been laying down the law on pastry making, and Ally, an exquisite cook, has kept her cool and remained good humoured. The make pastry with self raising flour and look aghast when Ally calmly says she prefers to use plain. They make some hideous food here. When we go home next week we intend having roast beef and Yorkshire pudding - galore.

-=-

Wednesday August 17, 1983

 Linthorpe Hotel, Middlesbrough

Dry day. I brought Ally her eggs to bed at 10, and we both ate in our undies. Too hot to wear clothes. We decided to go to town again and got a bus at 12:30 and lunched at the Masham on steak and kidney pie and roast potatoes. We couldn't locate the Sam Smith's pub the 'Why Not?' It's somewhere in the vicinity. The manager of the Master Cooper has been given the push and Tim, the horrible scruffy Tim, has been given the job of relief manager for about two weeks. We went into Mothercare again and in Marks & Spencer's I bought a tie, a shirt and a pullover. Well, if I am going to be a daddy I might as well look like one. Home at 5 for tea and biscuits. Laying on the bed I finished Ken Follett's The Man From St Petersburg. Worked in the vault from 7. Ally in the lounge bar showing a new girl, Jill, the ropes. Later in the lounge I found Mike kissing Ally and congratulating her on being pregnant. It was news to Sean too. They went off to a fancy dress Shakespeare themed party. Roy went along as Falstaff but looked more like King Farouk. Mags as Ophelia wearing a wet night shirt festooned with plastic roses and carrying a bottle of vodka. We went up to bed with coffee.

-=-

Tuesday August 16, 1983

 Linthorpe Hotel, Middlesbrough

I went downstairs and found the cook, draped in black, mourning her mother, and she gave me a tray with cornflakes and cups of tea. Ally had her cereal and then we slept until 10. I felt useless and dead to the world, any Ally was no better. The rain was teaming down and our day out to Redcar was abandoned. Later I went down to make boiled eggs and was laughed at by people all over the hotel. Mags reminded me of my solo musical performance. Far from sounding like Nat King Cole Ally says I was more like Bernard Manning, or one of those dreadful, pissed-up club acts. Ally sweet in her dungarees. We went out in the drizzle to the bank and then the supermarket where I almost fainted. Back in bed this afternoon. A Chinese take-away on trays watching a film. I have almost finished the latest Ken Follett. Another gripping tale. This boy will go far.

-=-

Monday August 15, 1983

Singing Nat King Cole's 'Stardust'

 Linthorpe Hotel, Middlesbrough

We receive our first pay cheque on Friday - thanks be to God. I haven't had a wage packet since April. How right I was to quit the YP. I have not missed or longed for any aspect of that job. Tonight Roy sat and quizzed me about licensing laws and what I know about them. This led to a late night orgy. Ally went to bed and I sat with Jon-Paul, Mags, Roy, Marie, Dave, James, CID Dave, &c. A riotous party. I fell flat on my back, resulting in bruising. Roy took down the microphone and we all sang until 4 in the morning, much to the agony of those trying to sleep upstairs. 'Song Sung Blue' by Neil Diamond and several Nat King Cole numbers later I grovelled up to bed. I recall dancing in the grip of Marie, who is like a great bear. Ally was awake __________.

-=-

Sunday August 14, 1983

 11th Sunday after Trinity

Linthorpe Hotel, Middlesbrough

Sundays are more relaxed and seem to me to be the only day that is any different from the others in this business. Hot, glorious day, but too busy. I worked in loung 1 and Ally in the kitchen. Nat King Cole on the juke box and a gentle breeze blowing through the garden door. At 2 we had chicken and sat with trays watching Clark Gable in 'China Seas'. Ally didn't like the noise and suggested we should begin a campaign to ban film music. Roy and Marie went off to a Greek wedding at 2:30 - Marie looking extremely nautical in a 'Lady Diana' sailor suit. We didn't go back to the bar until 8. I asked Roy where he originated from and I took a guess. I suggested Cheshire. No. Manchester, then? No. In fact he's from Chesterfield, the town of the crooked spire. A muscular guy in a string vest was leaning on the jukebox holding a stolen glass (from another pub). Roy asked him to leave and he made a grab for my tie. A close thing. Young Mike's car was pranged in the car park. I was later left in charge of the hotel but felt no undue strain from the heavy mantle of responsibility.

-=-

Saturday August 13, 1983

Linthorpe Hotel, Middlesbrough

 A deadly quiet, peculiar day. Business so unpredictable. One Saturday quite opposite to another. Ally and I worked in lounge 1 with Janice who stands no nonsense from the customers and verbally assaults them.Afterwards we sat in a corner listening to the treasury of jokes from the repertoire of JT and Rose. Belly laughs. I love listening to joke telling but find it almost impossible to tell one. I either forget the punch line or give the game away long before the climax. Ally was tired and so we went up to bed. We are not sure that all the staff know of our expected delivery. Young Mike pinched Ally's buttocks the other day _________.

-=-

Friday August 12, 1983

Club Street: listed.

 We have a letter from the Department of the Environment informing us that our dear, neglected home, that tiny weavers' cottage, is in fact a listed building. So we now join the ranks of historic home owners and can now rub shoulders with the likes of Lord Pembroke (Wilton), the Duke of Marlborough (Blenheim), and Tony Gadsby (Wilsby). Mary Moore has always insisted that the little houses on Club Street dated from the days of the beginning of the industrial revolution (circa 1760) but I have been sceptical. We will have to write to the DofE for information. The only drawback is that now we may be restricted if wanting to make improvements. Dormer windows and the like are out. We have also received a letter from Jean Watts. We sat beneath the tree in the garden eating our horrible lunch and reading our mail. Barbecue night. Not as busy as last week. Long lulls at the bar. Koo Stark has left the bearded 23 year-old Prince Andrew. I'm pleased. Princess Margaret is on holiday in Italy with Norman Lonsdale and their children.

-=-

Thursday August 11, 1983

Dave & Lynn.

 Woke at 7. I dreamt I was running down an escalator at an airport. For some reason I was going to France with Roy and Marie and wearing a great, white overcoat. Most odd. No sign of Roy until lunchtime. In the absence of the cook Marie made the breakfast which was good. Nice little touches like warming the plates and giving us friend eggs with the yokes intact put the repast in a class far above Janet's. A letter awaits us from Lynn. It crossed with ours to her unfortunately. David has a new job with Tay Homes, the people who make cardboard boxes for people to live in. Audrey is now home from hospital, but Henry B has sprained his ankle. Trevor and Jane have had a daughter, Rebecca Jane, on July 29. It was a nice chatty letter which began: 'Roses are red, Hotels are Blue, Mike and Ally are managers, but not o'er Tetleys brew'...  Very entertaining. I did a stocktake and then read the order compiled by me to the girl at Sam Smiths. Ally, behind a desk, did a lot of paper work too. I was in lounge 2 from 11:30 till 2. We lunched under a large tree but it was too hot to sit out. Ally phoned Sister Matthews who has heard nothing from Middlesbrough hospital, so everything must be OK. We are still keen on the name Samuel for a boy, though Ally says if Sam Smiths drop us, which I doubt, then she says he'll be Joshua.

-=-

Wednesday August 10, 1983

 The alarm sounded at 9 and I had a good cough which annoyed Ally intently. I went downstairs to make boiled eggs and toast and went out to buy a Daily Telegraph and post my letter to Mum. I climbed into the bath and Ally ironed her smalls. Felt tired all day and after a morning stroll we went upstairs and slumbered for a few hours. Feeling refreshed I went and pulled pints with fury in lounge 2. It was a steady night with none of the recent hysterics. Looking at the pair of us Roy says he can see why we are so compatible. He always has such a twinkle in his eye. Marie seems to be annoyed about something and pulls faces like dear Mama does. R went off to a party. The washer up -a new slave - took Ally and I for the Barneses children. Roy and Marie didn't find this amusing. We lay awake for ages. Read my Ken Follett book.

-=-

Tuesday August 9, 1983

 Linthorpe Hotel, Middlesbrough

We were in bed until 10:30 but didn't go down until after 12. Received a letter from Mum - a nice letter. She says she fell and sprained her ankle in Settle and cried all the way back to Horton. Poor Mumsie. We also received a cheque from Ken Gilbertson for our travelling expenses here, but not for the return visit to the clinic. Can't complain. £30. Went down and made eggs and bacon after writing letters to Sue and Lynn. The kitchen was in uproar after a blackout. We went on foot into town looking at antique shops and baby shops en route. We looked at the shops - all equally impressive, if not better than Leeds. Had a drink at the Masham, a Bass pub. Looked at the shops until 5:30. In Mothercare Ally was in hysterics trying on a pair of baggy trousers. Went to Ossie's for a drink, and then the Wig and Pen. Frightfully expensive. At 6:30 to the Mama Vittoria Pizzeria on Linthorpe Road and spent £18. We had prawn cocktails and steak Diane, &c. Back in a taxi to the hotel where we sat in the lounge watching Mags and Peter at work.We went up to bed at 9:30. Wrote a reply to Mama and started a new Ken Follett novel 'The Man from St Petersburg'.

-=-

Monday August 8, 1983

New Moon

Linthorpe Hotel, Middlesbrough

The green phlegm continues. I am going about the place sounding like a consumptive. A telephone engineer came to install a bright yellow phone. Francis O'Brien, the chap who interviewed us in May, arrived at 11. He fixed his eyes on Ally's bump and refused to take his gaze from it. It's just a call to see how we are getting on and to see if we have any problems. We enthuse and say nothing has put us off. He went away after 10 minutes. He is a Uriah Heap type. JT says O'Brien is 'a first class c*nt', and Mags agreed. I went into the vault for the afternoon, stone dead. Roy came to see me and says O'Brien must have something up his sleeve. I asked if that something is a horrible, unpleasant something and Roy responded: 'Oh, no'. We later did our washing. I made fishcakes and chips, and Ally made herself a chicken curry. Roy saw me frying and I made something for him and William too. Marie was running around excitedly because Gaskins, the local nightclub, is at this very moment a blazing inferno, and she tried to persuade Charlie to take her to spectate, but he declined.  In the 'vault' tonight. The pool competition has fallen through and only a few locals appeared. Big Ron Perry acted as my minder and helped with the ashtrays and glasses. Back in the top bar I bought him a drink. The cook's mother died suddenly today so breakfast will be a shambles, says Roy with a grin. Tomorrow's our day off.

-=-

Sunday August 7, 1983

 10th Sunday after Trinity

Linthorpe Hotel, Middlesbrough

    The Linthorpe.

Feeling better. I found myself in the 'vault' this morning thinking about Ally. It's shocking that we went back to Bradford at great expense to give blood, only to have it spilled and lost by the NHS. However, the authorities here were so kind it did compensate. Marie went to Chesterfield. I set to and cleaned out the deep fat fryer. A hideously messy, laborious job. Afternoon in the vault and evening in lounge 2. Afterwards Roy bought piles of fish and chips for everyone and we made sandwiches sitting at the bar. We chatted with Marie. The first pub they had was the Duncan in Leeds, then they went to Carlisle with John Smiths, and then to Manchester, then Rochdale, and four years ago here to Middlesbrough. She also lived in Headingley and worked on Low Lane at Horsforth. She drinks Bacardi and coke. We went up to bed. I have discarded the novel I was reading. It's a hideous thing.

-=-

Saturday August 6, 1983

 Up at 7 looking and feeling awful. Everybody says so. It was daft of me to stay up until 1. The others can be nocturnal because they don't have to get up at dawn like me here. No sign of Roy or Marie until luncheon. I 'bottled up' and collected rubbish in the garden. JT joined us for breakfast but Ally and I escaped before he tackled his fried egg sandwich. Randy old Margaret says she likes the way we work and so too does Charlie, and when Charlie Poole likes something it must be good. Roy was up late and grumpy. He and Marie went off to Redcar Races with the family leaving JT, Dave and I running the bar. The place was full of revellers from a wedding all clamouring for drink and hurling abuse. At 3pm we had to make the same exit from the bar as we did last night. We were still clearing up after 4. Ally was busy in the kitchen. She made a steak dinner which we ate after 4:30. Roy's daughter, Marnie, came to see us and showed us a bundle of new coloured socks she's bought for her Chesterfield sojourn. For a 14 year-old Marie is very grown up. A busy night, but we retired early. Roy went up before us, and without a fuss. I think he was knackered.

-=-

Friday August 5, 1983

 Linthorpe Hotel, Middlesbrough

Feel shocking. A hideous throat. Green phlegm continues. Ally now has a baby bulge, a delightful lump. She sits and talks to it. She insists that a person, albeit small, is swelling inside her womb, and he/she must surely be listening. _________.

A man came to mend the glass washing machine and I had to look after him for the afternoon. Back to the normality of lounge 2. We worked like fury so much so that at 10:30 when people were clamouring for more, he asked us to walk away from the bar and hide until the mob had dispersed. It was like making an exit from the stage.The crush was made all the worse by a 'Toga Party' and a stag party. Afterwards all the staff sat and slurped. Kieran is an aggravating youth who teases in a persistent manner. He says I look like a surfer. Why? JT was pissed as a fart. He does a club act as John O'Rea. Hilarious. They all sat in the bar until 6am but Ally and I went up at 1. 

-=-

Thursday August 4, 1983

 The 83rd birthday of Queen Elizabeth The Queen Mother

Queen Mum: born in taxi.

May God's blessings be upon the old Queen. Roy, over his morning tea, said that she must owe her longevity to her mother Queen Mary. I coughed, but said nothing. Sipped more tea. Roy, reading a tabloid paper, announced that rapists, child molesters, and Coronation Street stars should be flogged and then hanged.  I have a bad throat. Hoarse. Coughing up green phlegm. To the vault all day. Old Eddie, who is only 60 but looks much older, says his late uncle won the VC but always refused to talk about it. Eddie didn't appreciate this modesty and was irked by it. The VC is now housed in the Green Howard's museum in York. News: saw the Queen Mother waving from the balcony of Clarence House. She was joined for lunch by her daughters, the Prince and Princess of Wales, and Lady Sarah Armstrong-Jones. The Sun newspaper announced that the Queen Mum was born in an ambulance in London on this day in 1900. It has long been a mystery as to where HM was brought into the world. The reference books always stated St Paul's Walden, Hertfordshire, but in 1980 this was revealed to be wrong, and at the time London was suggested as the birthplace. Lord Strathmore was fined for not registering his daughter in the 6 weeks period allowed, and when he did so he gave false information. Ally phoned Sister Matthews who, to our horror, says she's dropped Ally's blood sample, and tells Ally to have another NTD screening. We went to Middlesbrough and had this done. They will forward the report to Bradford Royal.

-=-

Wednesday August 3, 1983

 Linthorpe Hotel, Middlesbrough

Dave G is 29 and Janette 19 .

We pottered about in our room until 10:45. 

We went down to the bar and looked at it from the public side. Had a lager with Sean, Mike, and Kieran. An old man engaged Ally in conversation on the subject of the other Sam Smiths houses in the locality. We decided to stroll round looking at them. The Cambridge and the Master Cooper. Both quiet this afternoon. The manager at the Master Cooper is an ex York City footballer. Tonight we worked in lounge 2. Marie, I have decided, is like a Valkyrie.

-=-

Tuesday August 2, 1983

 Awakened by the alarm at 7:13 but lay smiling to myself knowing I do not have to get up. Linger in bed. Can we call our son Samuel when we work for Samuel Smith? We like Oliver too, but Oliver Smith is the chairman of the brewery. So it will look like we are crawling which ever name we go for. At 12 we went down and sat with our lunch at the bar laughing at JT winding up Mike. It's a local pastime. We went to the bank and withdrew £30 and posted a few postcards. Back in our suite we wrote letters to our mothers which took an hour, and I lay on the bed dropping grapes into my mouth. On TV saw the dreadful Kim Wilde performing. She's built like a cart horse. We haven't heard much news. I enjoy being cut off. JT banged on our door at 8 and asked if we wanted to go out into Middlesbrough with him. We sent him packing. Ww will go with him one day, but not on our first day off. Mags says JT has thyroid trouble. At 9:30 we went to the Chinese take-away. Saw Roy for the first time today and he thoroughly approved of us staying in bed on our day off. 

-=-

Monday August 1, 1983

Mags.

 Down as usual at 7:30 to the serenade from the fire alarm. Whilst bottling up Roy asked about Mike Walker's visit and says that Ally could, if she wished, have baby in a private nursing home following signing up for BUPA. Went to the bank for £10 of 2p pieces. I did the lounge bar with Carol and Mike until 3. The place was dead. Rain. I do not like a quiet bar. Feel like a goldfish. Ally was in the kitchen making sandwiches and finished at 2. The weekly rota reveals that tomorrow is our day off. An old boy in the bar left his copy of The Sun - the front page reveals that the Duchess of Kent has cancelled more engagements and departed early from a concert on Saturday. Poor soul. What can be wrong? Sleep. Bath. Vault 7-11. No bother. Most of the customers are insane and jibber away incoherently. A large, ageing hippie woman, still dressed in 'flower power' garb 20 years on, sat with a pint doing the Guardian crossword. At 11 I went back to civilisation and joined the others in the lounge bar. Ally looked beautiful, and a customer told her so. Bob, the lounge bar Casanova, said he'd never seen a barmaid look so fresh from start to finish, and admired her crinkly brown dress. You know the one I mean. To bed at 12. Mags and Marie were squabbling. Photos of Matthew arrived and I glued them in our album. Had coffee in bed.

-=-

Sunday July 31, 1983

 9th Sunday after Trinity

    Linthorpe Hotel, Middlesbrough

Margaret: buttocks.

Felt not too bad and went about my morning business quite unaided. Roy didn't surface until late. I went about the garden picking up debris from last night. Used contraceptives. Yes, you name it and I found it. 87p in coins scattered around the lawns. At 12 I was put in the vault (the back bar) - not my favourite place, and stood until 2 with the alcoholic OAPs. Marie's mother, the nymphomaniac Margaret, keeps coming in to molest me and drain the Diet Pils lager. She pulled a few pints and grabbed at my buttocks. She is 53 but has retained all her urges. The Barneses Sunday lunch smells divine. We had steak and switched on the TV, for the first time since our arrival here, and watched a noisy film Dunkirk. We switched off and slept until after 6. A moderate Sunday evening. Heavy rain deterred people using the garden. We had just one drink after closing and went up to bed but couldn't sleep. All the late night films are starring David Niven. His autobiography was ghastly and put me off the man.

-=-

Saturday July 30, 1983

The Linthorpe Hotel, Middlesbrough

 The burglar alarm sounded at 7:30am even before I had left the bedroom. I think it must be Roy mucking around. His sense of fun is legendary. Feel groggy. I did my bottling up and then had a large cooked breakfast at 8:30. Ally sat in the office and spent the afternoon with Mags, Marie's sister, in the kitchen. I worked in the bar with Barry and Carol until 3:30. Up to bed at closing and found Ally asleep on top of the bed reminiscent of Queen Victoria's effigy in the Royal Mausoleum at Frogmore. Yesterday we signed up for some life insurance making each other beneficiaries in the event of our deaths. The lump sum payable is four times our annual salary. We also joined the Sam Smith's pension fund but it doesn't kick in until Oct 1, and BUPA. My grogginess had passed by lunchtime. We ate cheese sandwiches outside beneath a large, dark tree. Time is flying so rapidly it's frightening. It was the usual riot tonight. A mob came in who were en route to a 'bad taste' fancy dress party. Everyone dressed in ridiculous 'loud' clothes, &c. At 12 Roy, JT, some others and me, walked on to the party. Roy in shorts and school cap. Quite a hideous party. Fourteen year-olds throwing up everywhere. Not a glass in the place. I stood sharing JT's flagon of cider until he staggered off at 2. I lingered until 3 and then walked home leaving Roy there with his Jim Beam. Ally had only just retired.

-=-

Friday July 29, 1983

 I was hoping it might rain today to spoil Maria's wedding but alas it proved hot and warm. At least she can no longer dishonour our family by using our august surname. They are going to honeymoon at Molly and Jim's and Janette says she is going to spy on them.

Maria & Alex.

Up at 5am and off on our way back to Middlesbrough. Ally collected her iron tablets from Boots and bought some red dungarees. Taxi to the Linthorpe for 10. We were back to work for 11. Mike Walker, from the brewery, arrived at 2:30 and we signed lots of papers. It was a quiet lunch and a busy night. Ally looked cute in her red dungarees. Kieran asked if she was here to clean the windows. All the staff sat after closing and I bought everyone a drink (£8.50). Roy and the lads went off to Mandy's disco in town and I went up to join Ally, who retired at 12. Dave and Mike borrowed my shoes to go dancing. Will I ever get them back? Hot night.

Red dungarees.

News: The Penrith by-election was a disaster. Whitelaw's 15,000 majority in June was slashed to 500 or so. David Niven has snuffed it. Princess Michael of Kent's marriage has been recognised by the Pope, and they are to have it blessed by (Cardinal) Hume. Why was her first marriage annulled? 

-=-

Thursday July 28, 1983

 Slept late. Had a leisurely breakfast which dragged on into the afternoon. We walked up to Saint Street Clinic, Ally in her pretty flowing red dress, to see Sister Matthews, and a doctor, Asian. She had a spina bifida blood test and a prescription for iron which they say she desperately needs. She hasn't put on weight, and is calculated as being 16 weeks pregnant. We walked to a bus and went into Bradford where I bought her tea in Rackham's (prawn sandwiches and orange juice and a biscuit for £3!) The place was full of old ladies all with blue rinses. Bought Ally a blue t-shirt. Later we went to the doctor to collect the prescription for iron. Bought corn on the cob and lamb chops and had a large evening meal at 6.Watched the news. We have lost touch with the world since going to Middlesbrough. Is Harold Wilson a viscount or a life baron? Watched TV until 10 and  slept like logs.

-=-

Wednesday July 27, 1983

John, Ally, Lynn, Dave, & Janette.

     Up at 5:30am and we crept to the kitchen and made bacon and eggs. Jan, the cook, came waddling in looking surprised. A taxi took us to Middlesbrough station. A bright, sunny morn. In Bradford for 9:30. Mary gave us a coffee and was pleased to see us. Miss Whincup, who hasn't been well in the heat, went off to York with a niece. We had a large lunch and went to Guiseley for 3:30 and spent the evening with the Bakers. Sue and Pete are at Horton but John & Janette joined us for fish and chips and we contributed £5 to a kitty for cans of ale and Martini. Janette has had her hair cut off and dyed. It looks awful. She told us details of Maria's wedding. The garden at Lochans is to be decorated with fairy lights on Friday and Catherine is to attend on her mother, &c._______. Janette was tired. John had made her climb Ingleborough this morning, and it was such a strain that she cried when nearing the summit. John is rapidly becoming one of those boring fitness fanatics, and he sat tonight in his shorts, jogging gear. Dave brought us home after midnight.

-=-

Tuesday July 26, 1983

 Roy and Marie went off to Redcar Races. Ally spent the day in the kitchen. I phoned Lynn to say we will be over to see her for tea tomorrow. Spoke to Mum who told me Marie and Alex's wedding is fixed for Friday in Stranraer. John's divorce papers have arrived from Edinburgh. Meanwhile, he and Janette are at Waltergarth scaling the Three Peaks. He is glum. Janette says Alex is _______. That's a gas. Roy, back from the races and in a mood, snaps at everyone tonight and flies like an angry Dobermann at James (the red headed barman). I washed the glasses at closing and took until 11:15 which was something of a record. Another barman, Barry, has found a job in London and leaves on Sunday. He will get £22 a day cash in hand labouring and claim dole as well. Ron borrowed my electric razor again and disappeared with my aftershave lotion. He must have found a woman. We went up to bed at 11:30. Two days off! Yippee! _____.

-=-

NB: I am struggling to believe that I would have ever allowed someone to use my electric razor. Ugh.

Monday July 25, 1983

 Full Moon

Marie is cooking something which makes Ally feel sick. This afternoon I had my first awkward customer. A bearded, red headed man called Eric, horribly pissed, disliked the way I walked about jangling the pub keys at closing time at 3pm. I was assigned to the vault at 7pm and the drooling Eric was asleep face down on the bar. No amount of trying by me to awaken him worked and when he finally regained consciousness he spat on the floor and staggered out of the door. The place was full of pissed, senile OAPs. No music, and only the clicking of the balls on the pool table. One ageing hippie was singing old 'Beach Boy' numbers. Roy didn't like the way I allowed a pool game to go on until 10:45, but fell silent when he saw it was his son, William, playing.

-=-

Sunday July 24, 1983

 8th Sunday after Trinity

JT (right)

Eric, one of Roy's friends, wandered into our room at 7am with not a stitch on. Completely naked. Oh we laughed. Later in the bar he told Ally, very loudly, that she looks better in bed. Great fun. Spent the morning with JT and Peter scrubbing and washing in the kitchen. Grease everywhere. A Sir Richard Attenborough look-alike, who stayed over, sat drinking tea and blowing cigarette smoke over me. A disgusting habit. Roy and Marie were also big smokers until 2 years ago. The poor bugger became so short of breath. It is such a treat when the bar closes at 2pm on Sunday. Off until 7. We ate steaks and baked potatoes and snatched a few hours sleep. I went down to the cellar to fiddle with the gas bottles, changed some light bulbs. Roy is very good introducing us gradually to things so not to confuse. He says that by the end of 8 weeks we will be well schooled in pub management.

-=-

Saturday July 23, 1983

Roy: cowboy

 American Day at the Linthorpe with bunting, a band, and masses of people. After breakfast Ally and I decorated the barbecue area with appropriate coloured streamers and then took refuge behind the bar for the duration. Roy wearing a large cowboy hat throughout. Tonight was chaotic. We were mobbed. After closing at 11pm a party commenced for the staff and the usual CID retainers. It went on until 5am. I did not drink to excess, but by the end of the night I was stained from head to foot in beer and muck. We played a boat race in the bar which involved throwing a lot of ale around. I danced with Marie's mum Margaret, who asked why we are having a baby so soon. She went face down after 10 Diet Pils lagers and was taken off to bed. Kieran and JT were in drag. JT was Mary Pickford, the American sweetheart of the silent screen. Hilarious. Much revelry. Ally went up to bed at about 4 and I followed later. Roy was pissed on brandy and ginger ale and was smashing up the place. Raucous. To bed at 5 with a cheese and pickle sandwich. Marie's sister, Mags, very much like Christine Braithwaite.

American Day.

-=-

Friday July 22, 1983

In the bar at the 'Linnie'.

 Hideously busy, but a great experience. Roy and Marie think about Ally and attempt to look after her. What I am attempting to say is that they show consideration. Ally spent the morning in the kitchen and I went on a garden tidying mission.48,000,000 crisp packets, &c. Roy is a bluff, old martinet, but very kind hearted beneath that exterior. Everything he says and does is aimed at helping us in our future career. Every morning as I leave our room the burglar alarm sounds off. It doesn't do this for anybody else. The cook, Jan (who looks more like an Emerald, says Ally) panics every time thinking that the place is burning down and she runs from the kitchen wailing like a banshee. Tomorrow is the Linthorpe 'American Day' extravaganza and the place is done up with US bunting and a stage has been erected in the garden for a band. Steve, the odd job man, is on drums evidently. The atmosphere here is great. Everyone such good friends.

-=-

Thursday July 21, 1983

The Linthorpe.

 Roy is half dead all day and lays flat out sleeping at every available opportunity. He is such a character. Susan is 24 today and after a busy morning at the Linthorpe we phoned our birthday wishes to Guiseley. A pay phone, shovelling in the 10p pieces. Afterwards we sat outside with a drink on the wall and went up to bed to sleep. We were introduced to a barman, John Thatcher or 'JT' as he is known by all. A humorous, red-faced bespectacled guy with an hilariously depraved disposition.  He brings cheer to the place and lowers the tone considerably. To bed early. Done in. 

-=-

Wednesday July 20, 1983

 Up at 7 and went down to find tea bags to replenish the supply in our room. The big, fat cook is very servile. I bottle up and Roy showed me the cellars - bloody pipes everywhere. We drank tea and debated as the whether Coronation Street's Peter Adamson is really a child molester. George Carman, QC will not 'get him off', says Roy. Spent the morning cleaning the beer pipes and pumping cleaning fluid around the Linthorpe. The bar was dead and we went up at 2, after having chilli con carne for lunch. Ally phoned Bessie. She's going to join Frank in Jersey tomorrow. Tonight, Ally and I 'opened up' - alone, with no assistance. Pissed up OAPs. Too busy to write more. We are coping extremely well. Police, CID people, stayed on after closing time and a pissed gathering ensued. Roy can dance whilst balancing a pint of ale on his head. An arm wrestling contest followed. Jon-Paul took on a hairy DC and cheated. Bed after 5am.

-=-

Tuesday July 19, 1983

 An early start. Roy shows me how to re-stock the bottles that he been supped last night and after breakfast he gave me an old cash register to clean. It's for the garden and an 'American Afternoon' planned for Saturday which should be great fun.Roy says that on Royal Wedding day in '81 they took £1,600 in the afternoon. This is supposed to be extremely good. ____. My adding up seems to have improved overnight. Ally is very efficient and picks up things extremely easily. I am more dense. Roy thrusts a bunch of keys into my hands expecting me to open doors. We phoned Mum at 2. Pamela Nason gave birth to a daughter, Rebecca Louise, at 3am weighing 6lb-odd. Caesarian section. Sam Smith's didn't tell the Barneses that Ally is pregnant which is a relief. Roy isn't remotely perturbed. Other trainees have been pregnant, he says. Tonight a couple called Rob (Piper) and Kathy, who have a pub in Stockton-on-Tees, called to to see Roy. They trained at the Linthorpe in Feb/March. To bed at 12. Read 'A Coffin Full of Dreams' by Frisco Hitt.

-=-

Monday July 18, 1983

Roy.

 The great day of change is upon us. Up at 5 to the buzz of the alarm. Boiled eggs. Surveyed the house for what could be the last time in many weeks. Out and on the bus at 6:30 weighed down with cases, to Leeds, and from there by train to Darlington and on to Middlesbrough, arriving at 9:27.We found a taxi with a wrinkled old driver with the local, incomprehensible accent. He sounded like the infamous Yorkshire Ripper hoaxer. To the Linthorpe. It is a residential hotel. Met Marie Barnes in the doorway who called for Roy, who arrived looking like an old sea dog, with a bluff face. I do suppose he will stand no nonsense. After unpacking we were thrown in at the deep end  and put in a bar with a girl called Janice. Nervous, but managed quite well. A quick lunch break and then we worked until 4:30. This evening we were in a bar with  seven or eight other staff. Unbelievably busy. Loud music, young people, punks with hair standing on end, &c. Worked until 11 and found the experience thoroughly exciting. I always knew I would like it. Roy ran some staff to their homes and Ally and I made a getaway to our room. Roy laughed saying it had been a quiet night.

-=-

Sunday July 17, 1983

 7th Sunday after Trinity

5, Club Street

I cannot recall a day when I was quite as nervous. Not even June 27 1981 compares to this. I have managed to refrain from biting my nails. At 12 I went up to Duckworth Lane on the bus with mounds of old, unwanted clothes and deposited them on the doorstep of the Oxfam shop and then scurried away on foot back to Club Street. The sky darkened as I came up Cemetery Road and a flash of lightning and loud clap of thunder sent a score of gaily garbed Asian girls screaming for shelter. I reached home just before the storm. Ally and I cuddled on the settee listening to the furore without. Mary came to see us and we gave her a key and showed her the plants. She's going to be our waterer for 8 weeks. Of the storm she exclaimed: 'Penny is shaking like an aspic leaf'. Penny is of course the poodle. We were exhausted and excited. The phone was off because of the storm and so I went to the corner and phoned Mum and Dad. They were cheerful and full of good wishes. Apparently John has seen no divorce papers and says he doesn't need any. We went up to bed at 9. Our last day at home before the great change.

-=-

Saturday July 16, 1983

On the garden wall.

 Overcast. After breakfast we phoned Susie and invited them over to Bradford this afternoon. Peter was working and so she said they might be with us at 3. Ally and I walked up to the Fiddler's Three or whatever it's called and we sat and had pie and peas. Ally was receiving some looks. I dislike the pub._____. Sue and Pete arrived at 3:30 and we went and sat on the garden wall with our glasses. Sue informed us that John and Maria are now divorced and that John celebrated the occasion last Thursday going out with Peter. Maria is to marry Alex McHarrie next month in a simple ceremony. John is going off on a holiday to the Lake District with Chris R and Pete M. We went at 6 to Mucky Willie's and sat outside until the place opened - and had a couple of drinks. Christopher insisted on teasing us by making a run for the traffic but Peter was close at hand to save him. Pamela is to have a Caesarian section on Monday. They left at 7:30. I bought a prawn curry. Phoned Glynnie who wished us well.

-=-

Friday July 15, 1983

 Today is the first St Swithun's Day to dawn without the presence of Mrs Ethel Greenwood since 1888. It is worth pausing and thinking about this for a moment. Once again my pink Pig and I returned to town to ransack the shops. In the last two days we have disposed of £300 on next to nothing. Ally says £1m would be such an easy amount to get rid of. Ally found a pair of particularly attractive red shoes reminiscent of the sandals worn by a Roman legionaire. At lunch we found solace in a rough bar beneath the Berni Inn where we disposed of fish and chips cooked by an enormous woman with great arms and bulging thighs. And I wasn't the only one to comment on this. At home and to keep awake Ally phoned Bessie. She was told that Andrew is in a mess. He recently gave up his job without informing his parents of his intentions and is now painting the utility room to earn the money with which to go on holiday. He is a problem. Frank was at a dinner in Bournemouth. Ally had her hair trimmed. Mum phoned. ____. Too hot to sleep.

-=-

Thursday July 14, 1983

Ally (1983).

 Ally and I were up and out at a reasonably hour and we took to the shops with a gusto not seen in these parts for a good many years. I had a haircut at 10. _____.Spent money quickly but on only the humblest array of goods. I bought trousers suitable for a pub landlord and Ally a pleasant flowing frock which will easily accommodate her growing bulk. At lunch we found ourselves in a dark cellar bar with flashing lights that annoyed Ally. I had chilli con carne and Ally a beef salad. Potted plastic plants everywhere and bar staff hand picked from______. Onward with our shopping until late afternoon when we returned home laden with bags. We laughed as I paraded around in my new clothes and changing them without any regard of passing vehicles and pedestrians. I am becoming nervous about my new employment. After all, it is a great change.

-=-

Wednesday July 13, 1983

With cousins Nellie (left) and Edna.

 A historic meeting. Clad in our finery we went off at lunchtime to Bramley and Cambridge Gardens the home of my first cousins once removed twins Edna and Nellie Rhodes. We found number 33 a quaint, well-painted house. We tapped at the door and an elderly lady emerged who looked just like Dad in drag. We were ushered into a little sitting room and sat with scones and cups of tea. We didn't dwell too long on the family tree. Edna is the elder by half an hour (born July 5, 1915), and Nellie was drip white at birth and very weak and spent three days in a basket in front of the fire - a home made incubator. The spinsters worked together for 47 years in the same mill and were both made redundant when they reached 60. Nellie, they say, is the double of her own aunt Nellie (my great-aunt) who died also unmarried in November, 1955. Their grandfather, John Rhodes, a market gardener, was known in Bramley as 'Donkey' Rhodes and recently in Bramley park the old ladies were accosted by a very old gent who exclaimed: 'well, if it isn't Donkey's granddaughters!' It was certainly eerie to see these typical Rhodes people on whom I have never set eyes on before. Our visit seemed short and at 4:30 we said farewell to the ladies who escorted us to the top of the garden and wished us well in our Sam Smith's venture. From here we walked up to Warrels House on Upper Town Street, a sprawling 17th century erection, the home of Mr & Mrs Harry Miller. We were met at the door by a fussy Mrs Marion Miller and a large Alsatian dog, Rum. Marble fireplaces and high ceilings, passages, and rooms hideously decorated. Mrs Miller is a Mrs Perfect (see diary 1973/4), powdered like a clown, and Harry is a Bill Dixon and 'Twitch' Thompson combined. We had a guided tour of the house followed by a salad for tea after which we were led into a sitting room and given half a bottle of whisky. We were joined by their lady-killer son Nigel, who left his pregnant wife upstairs in a sulk. Tracey, for that is her name, is a mere three weeks further advanced on the pathway to motherhood than Ally but is much larger, so they say. The Millers brought us home after 12, and we collapsed after showing them our abode.

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Tuesday July 12, 1983

Ally: blue stripes

 The hot weather continues. A scorcher. No painting today - thank God. Reflections of 1976 and all that. Ally had no desire to leave her bed but did so for her eggs. She kept a packet of biscuits close at hand in the pink suite. Breakfast with Mum and Dad. They were peeved that the Royston boys had left and gone up Pen-y-Ghent with all their toilet rolls. Mum and Dad took us to Settle at 11:30 and we sat in the railway station listening to Dad give an oration on the typical British Rail worker. He should really be on the stage. Our engine came at 12:05 and we had a hot and sweaty journey to Bradford. Into a pub in town. ______. Warm beer. Home. Mary (Moore) brought us our milk which she had taken in because it was starting to boil on our doorstep. She told us the details of Britt's funeral. An odd affair. Mrs Greenwood's granddaughter Anne wore a fur coat, and the temperature was over 90F. The coffin, she says, was no wider than a plank. Mary was surprised at this. Obviously she hasn't looked closely at Mrs Greenwood in recent years. We went shopping for a dress for Ally and came back with blue stripes. Sweltered. Sat around naked all evening. Read Jane Eyre. I used to liken Ally, when in one of her moods, to Mrs Rochester.

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Monday July 11, 1983

 At Waltergarth Guest House

Dad & Mum:

We were up early. A red faced Irishman was having his breakfast. The belligerent neighbour Norman had suggested he might be a bomb-maker. Felt tired but still I managed to mount a ladder and splash paint around. More wasps to kill. It disturbs Papa to see me derive so mich pleasure exterminating the hymenoptera. And yet he's the one who would bring back hanging for the likes of Ronald Gregory, CBE. Mum and Ally lay in the sun. We are all sore from the midge bites. Four paying guests arrived. A couple in their forties and two fresh faced youths from Royston near Barnsley and Dad asked them whether they worked down the pit. The small, pimply lad says no. He works in a bank. The big lad in shorts has just finished his A-levels. Coughs all round. Papa quickly changes the topic of conversation. 'Is Roy Hattersley the second coming?' Discuss. Saw 'Minder'. Mum isn't too jovial this weekend. Hilda has had a medical procedure which was a success. She is now quite well. Karen of course won't be having her baby until Easter.

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