Tuesday November 15, 1983

 Why Not, Hemlington

I got up at 7:30 and did my 'bottling up'. I went out to look for bullets, or shell cases in the garden, but found nothing. I'd like to kill the bastard who is terrifying my poor wife. Ally though is unscathed and sat sipping tea and reading a magazine. I attempted to have a bath which isn't an easy thing when living in a pub. One is forever on call.

Young Peter Phillips is six today. It's a scandal. The boy really should be given a peerage.

Barmaids from Hell.

Ally has been packing our suitcase.We cannot wait for the moment when we drive away leaving the Why Not behind forever. It is quite alarming how we have grown to accept gratuitous violence without even thinking. Neither of us lost sleep last night after the gunshot drama but if such a thing had taken place at Club Street we would have been in uproar. I only hope that we can leave without Mandy Metro being attacked. I wouldn't put it past the pigs around here to let down our tyres ... or burst them. I opened up at 11 and Carole came in at 12. The place like a mausoleum and I had to endure the ramblings of Tommy 'Voicebox' , such an old bore. Brenda, the barmaid, told me at the eleventh hour that Carole is the viper in our midst, 'the one what's pilfering'. All I can do is tell Tim to keep an eagle eye on her because when she left at 3:30 I rejoiced in the knowledge that I will never have to survey her craggy countenance again. I hope she rots in Hell. Brenda informed me of this treachery and then asked for a sub, which I refused. Maurice says it is a paradox. He wants us to go for our sakes, but then he doesn't. He was aghast when I told him that Ally had been the victim of an assassination attempt. 'Get out', he says, 'Oh get out'. We are doing. We sat in bed watching a TV programme about Greece. Memories of Ios came flooding back. The nights of passion 'neath the starry heavens.

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