Linthorpe Hotel, Middlesbrough
Autumn is upon us once again. I detected a yellow tree in the Linthorpe garden. Roy is so good to us. He is relieved that we are not going to ferry furniture across the country and suggests buying a bed for us to use on a temp. basis and then to install it at the hotel. Why not, eh? Ally is determined to make Colin Black pay for everything and she will not allow me to lay down £100 for a bed we don't want. Roy admires her strong line. He took us to a garage and we inspected a 1981 (Aug) mini metro advertised at £2,995, which Derek Docherty, the creepy salesman, knocked down to £2,800 because of Roy connections in the car business. No car keys could be found so we couldn't take it out, but we put down a deposit. The salesman seemed to be terrified of Roy, who was a car salesman for years in the '60s. Ally's father phoned later and asked us to contact SL Motors and offer £3,000 for a Ford Fiesta. No good. Frank was in one of his brisk, sharp moods. The Dixon temper is something else. So, it looks as though we have an automobile once again. To be car-less is to be ostracised. The usual Linthorpe night. The Why Not? is close at hand and we look forward to the responsibility.
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