Thursday January 5, 1984

 5, Club Street, Lidget Green, Bradford

Ally is much better. No longer niggly and tiresome. No signs of impending motherhood. We were up early and out in the rain at 9:30 to Paternoster Lane where Ally saw Dr Duck. She came out in perfect health and has been told to wait patiently. The doc says Ally will not be allowed to wait longer than 13 days. It seems like eternity, but we know our child will come before January 21. At home I sat buried beneath my newspaper but the peace of the day was shattered by the telephone. It was Les Gledhill who asked to see me at the Red Lion at 2:30. Quiver, quiver. Is our destiny secured? I went out and cleaned the car after sweeping up the leaves that have clogged the pathway since autumn. In fact the garden looks horrible. It's like Greenham Common. Cheese and biscuits. My wife says I am a sloppy eater, but then she loves to criticise. 

We went to the Red Lion at 2:30. Felt most uneasy. The Willses kiss, cuddle, suck and chew and sit upon each other all for public display. I really think that Elaine thinks she's a latter day Brigitte Bardot or Pamela Stephenson. He (Chris) is like one of the dogs they possess and jumps at the snap of her fingers. L. Gledhill came and took us into a corner and told us that the Moorhouse Inn is ours. He only has D.T.N. Tyne to see and give the word, and we can have the place when our baby is about three weeks old if everything is ok. I find Les G such an easy man to get on with. He has treated me very well and I cannot complain about my Christmas break. However, he has to justify my name on the payroll and so we have to take a holiday from Sunday when hopefully Samuel/Clementine will be thinking about putting in an appearance. Ally is over the moon. Samuel Smith's have been very good to us and we can not have wished for better, fairer treatment. Chris and Elaine were lurking in the background and after L.Gledhill's departure they came to glean information. Chris says, somewhat cruelly, that Pirie at the Moorhouse was thumped, or 'done over' last week. Hardly the most tactful thing to say to Pirie's successor.  We left at 3:30 after seeing Jean and Enid - always pleasant. 

We sat at home with a drink looking at the Christmas tree (yes, it's still up) discussing our good fortune. Phoned Horton. Mum is full of cold and has been in bed since we left on Monday. She sounded awful. Phoned Glynnie. He and Lily leave for Acapulco (?) on Monday. He is calling in here after his two weeks in the sun. Ally spoke to Lily. Sue phoned for a bulletin. Her baby is now due on June 10. It's another 12 month pregnancy. Marita phoned to see if we fancy having a gathering before Dave L's return to South Elmsall on Sunday. Awkward. Pleasant chatter. I have so much in common with Marita. She never changes. Dave L is taking his mum to see them tonight. The Matthews residence is like Chatsworth. 'Horatio Hornblower' . Bath & bed at 9:30.

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