Thursday May 19, 1983

Dexy's Midnight Runners

 A glorious, historic day of joy. We had breakfast attempting to think pessimistically so to lessen the disappointment. I spent a fretful morning chewing my finger nails and pacing the room. Steve O'Connor sends a man to do the pointing. He looks like someone who has escaped from Strangeways. Ally came in at 12 and immediately phoned the doctor before taking off her coat. The waiting seemed an eternity. I stood in the kitchen cringeing, but what a delight to hear that her urine sample is positive and Ally is well and truly pregnant. We fell onto the settee in a state of shock. Hard to believe. Ally went back to the AHA and told Patricia and Derek (who says 'this is a very special time'). I snatched up my cheque book and marched into Bradford smiling at old ladies, patting dogs, and bouncing with glee. I suppose they all thought that I am perhaps a prospective parliamentary candidate. I bought Ally a large glossy baby book for £7.95 in WH Smith's and the Dexy's Midnight Runners LP. I tore round town on a cloud. I wanted to scream my news from the rooftops. I came home on the bus and wrapped her presents in gay, floral paper, and deposited them atop the wardrobe. But first I played the Dexy's LP to ensure it was in pristine condition. I posted a birthday card to Isobel Clara Smith, who is one on Saturday, and sent invitations to Jim, Margaret, Hilda and Tony for our general election supper. Ally came in at 5:10 still stunned and we ate a large fish pie swamped in cheese sauce. We wanted to share our news. Should we phone Bessie? No, we resisted. She later sat with her feet up and with a cup of cocoa complaining about the noise made by Top of the Pops. 

We went to bed at 9:30.

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Wednesday May 18, 1983

 Had a good nights sleep and woke up feeling better. But the mornings are always better. 

Ally feeling faint. ___________. Bessie has posted an early birthday card which I have hid on top of the wardrobe. It's adressed to Mrs M Dixon. She is a case. We have received an application form from Bass. We cannot concentrate on breweries at the moment. If Ally is pregnant then I suspect we will have to do something completely different because no brewery would employ a woman heavy with child. 

Susan phoned. The Nasons will be calling upon us on Friday with Ally's birthday present. It's awful that we haven't seen them since that day last month when we sat in the garden at Thorpefields with them. 

Tonight Ally is home looking bushed again to find John and Janette here. They walked in at about 2. The boy had taken her out to lunch and they thought they would come over and entertain me.  They were not fiery or brutal and were very pleasant together. Janet (who soiled John's sheets and disappeared with them) is selling her flat and John would like to break through and add it to his. He has raised the floor giving it a disco effect. They left and we had a curry. Ally irritable and she aches everywhere. Bessie phoned. We said nothing of our forthcoming news. Andrew takes his driving test on Friday. To our beds after the nine o'clock news. I read Brideshead Revisited. The TV series stuck very much to the book.

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Tuesday May 17, 1983

 Feel hot and 'heady'. My cold worsens. I got out of bed and stood puffing and panting in the bathroom. My face is awful. I look 40. Ally feeling bilious. What a mess. She went off to the AHA looking like a rose. I am sure she is pregnant because she looks so good. I sat with a runny nose reading Brideshead Revisited. I then made some scones and Ally came in at 12 to eat them, along with bananas on toast. Like feeding time at the zoo. We then walked to the surgery on Beckside Road and she disappeared inside. I bought a loaf of bread and sat on the wall. After half an hour Ally came out. Dr Duck thinks she is pregnant but that it cannot be confirmed until the results of her urine sample come back on Thursday. You would really think that in this day and age a doctor might be able to carry out this test 'while you wait'. After all, it is 1983 the year of the Space Shuttle and the high speed train, Roy Jenkins and the £1 coin. Ally says Dr Duck is 'sweet' and seemed embarrassed. She offered Ally her congratulations and told her she holds an anti-natal class at Paternoster Lane every Thursday. We walked home hand-in-hand but refusing to enthuse. It wouldn't do to go wild with celebrations only to have a negative result the day after tomorrow.

I felt rotten and went to bed with Evelyn Waugh, paracetamols and a hot water bottle. I dropped off (to sleep) and only woke when Ally was unlocking the door three hours later. She made a chicken stew, but felt done in. The electioneering on the nine o'clock news drove her to bed. Michael Foot has borrowed Jim Callaghan's spectacles for the campaign, or so it would seem. I lasted until about 11 watching part 2 of an epic on the American Civil War. Gregory Peck was Abraham Lincoln. 

Steve Sanderson is 25 today. We have heard nothing much from Pudsey recently and have missed two birthdays. A hot night.

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Monday May 16, 1983

 Ally felt sick and was uncomfortable all day. I spent the morning doing the washing and hanging it out in the sun. All the old girls on the street are doing the same. Ally came home at 12:30 feeling nauseous and phone the doctor and made an appointment for tomorrow, with Dr Duck, at 12:50. She will go armed with a urine sample. John and his friend Ray called in. They're on the look out for a job after being laid off. He's been earning £3.25 an hour. At the YP I'm sure I only earned about 60p. I gave them a few beers and they went off at about 2. A bashful house husband I ironed for several hours with the curtains closed and then it started to rain and I was amongst the tulips taking in the washing. I roasted a chicken and fed my wilting wife at 6pm. She has been so very uncomfortable all day. She feels hungry then has no appetite once she starts to eat. Queer. 

News: Michael Foot says that if he is victorious he will have everyone back to work by Christmas.

Ally was in bed at 8:30 and I took a hot bath, watched a film, and climbed in to bed at 11:10. 

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Sunday May 15, 1983

At Horton

 Sunday after Ascension

Slept until about 9:30. A luxury for us these days. We could smell the fried breakfast and hear the Lancastrian guests chomping away. Ally is off fried food, and requested toast. We breakfasted with Mama and Papa at about 10. Dad going on and on about Mrs Thatcher again. He really is cut up about her having a general election just to please the media (he says), but at least this time both are going to vote. They have to have a postal vote as they are still on the electoral roll for Guiseley. Ally and I went out and walked around the village looking at the distant Pen-y-ghent which is black and sinister today. Dad says it never looks the same from one day to the next. The day was dull and turned to rain. Susan phoned to say Christopher is having his stitches out today and that Margaret and Jim may be calling at Waltergarth. They didn't materialise. Ally and I plan our bus route home but then Lynn phones to say she is calling in at tea time and so we fixed a lift back to Bradford with them. We had afternoon tea and sat around the crackling fire. Ally, looking pink, requested more scones, at which Mum went to the kitchen, muttering some concern about Ally's condition. Nothing further was said, but is the cat out of the bag? The Bakers came at 5 and we all left together at 7:30. The car was exceptionally hot and and both Ally and I felt quite sick. Little Katie was boiled and looked like a beetroot by the time they deposited us in Bradford. Ally, done in, went up to bed. I watched Brideshead Revisited and then joined her.

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Saturday May 14, 1983

 Sunny morn. I phoned the rail enquiries and discovered that the train goes at 8:20. We were up at 6:30 but still eating our eggs at 8 and didn't get into town until 8:30. Instead we made the journey by bus stitting upstairs at the front, soaking in the scenery like OAPs on a mystery tour. Ally feels well but is permanently hungry. We stopped at Skipton where we posted a birthday card to Steve (Sanderson), and arrived at Settle at 11:30 just as they heavens opened. We went into the Royal Oak to shelter and sat for an hour until the tiny bus came to take us to Horton-in-Ribblesdale. We arrived at Waltergarth at 12:45 and found Papa painting a sign in one of his garages. For the first time in years the drink supply seems to have dried up. It was a alcohol-free weekend. We had afternoon tea - Ally wolfing down the sandwiches. Dad came in after his labours. They are not doing a roaring trade. They have two lads staying there at the moment, from Lancashire. They are not unduly worried about it. They have to build up the business from the tatty remnant left by the Crowthers. We dined together and watched TV. Dad was pacing around the room during 'Dynasty'. Ally was whacked and at 10:30 we went off to bed in the 'pink suite' leaving Mum and Dad sitting by the fire. They do seem very happy. Can you recall those fiery and uncomfortable days of five or six years ago when they behaved like unruly children? We slept very comfortably despite the nylon sheets. The silence of Horton takes some getting used to. Just us and a few sheep.

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Friday May 13, 1983

 Sunshine today. I don't think God has sent us a fine day since I 'retired'. I went marching off at 8 after Ally's departure and walked to the market. Spent £7 and walked home, heavily laden. Saw old Charles, with his wobbling dentures, at No. 12, who tells me he is 83, and almost 84. I say "so you are from last century" and he wandered off looking vague, trailing his shopping bag.

I racked six jars of wine and did my housework to the sound of the thumping stereo. The ash tree is about to bud, but the Christmas tree planted out is on it's last legs. Phoned Ally at 3 to discuss our evening meal. Pork chops. We have decided not to go out with Lynn & Dave B and the Allinsons on Saturday because a) we would have nowhere decent to sleep, and b) Ally doesn't feel like alcohol at the moment. _______. How can we avoid the evening without raising suspicions in Lynn? We are due to visit Horton too, but she doesn't fancy that either. She will be more settled once we know yeah or nay.

I am sitting in the sun by the window writing this watching the cars on Cemetery Road. _____. I have despatched our application form to Whitebread's. The silence from the breweries is horrid. We are left high and dry until something crops up with the added excitement of Ally's gynaecological situation. _____. When Ally came in we discussed the calendar for the next month and decide that perhaps tomorrow is our last chance to go to Horton before Christmas. I phoned Mama and told her we'd go tomorrow afternoon. Ally doesn't want to go far & doesn't want Mum adding two and two together. I attempted to phone the British Rail information desk for details of trains to Settle, and typically, got no reply. To bed after 10.

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Thursday May 12, 1983

 Ascension Day

Pouring bloody rain again. Eggs and kisses. I watched Ally at her bus stop where she peeped from under my black umbrella.

I made a loaf of bread which looks good. Sarah phoned to ask how to address a lady councillor who is the widow of a baronet. I say 'Councillor Diana, Lady Ingilby'. She went off in a hurry but said she'd speak to me later.

Ally phoned and we discussed the format for when she should visit her doctor. I phoned the surgery at Paternoster Lane. ___________. The rain stopped. I got a bus and met Ally at the hospital. I told her she now has to begin the urine sample racket again. I am trying desperately not to become too excited by all this, as we have been through it before, in '81. We went along to the Co-op and spent one hour and £9 on a few provisions. We left and walked slowly back down the road. Her lunch time back ache is raging. Derek is being thoughtful about it all and had a nice chat with Ally this morning. I had to run for a bus down Squire Lane, heavily laden with six carrier bags, and was home for 1:45.

The Prince and Princess of Wales are home from the sun scorched island of (blank) with the Romseys. Both women are like bean poles. I expect the announcement of another royal pregnancy in eight weeks. Watch this space. The Daily Telegraph reveals that the shadow cabinet took only an hour yesterday to decide upon their manifesto. Obviously, a lot of thought has gone into it.  An amusing betrothal in the social columns. A granddaughter of the last Lord Trent has become engaged to a Mr Kumaramangalam. It sounds like a sexually transmitted disease. 

Sarah phoned again. Just to chat. No news.

Tonight Ally finds no comfort with her aching back. She laid flat on the floor with her head upon a cushion, but it wasn't a success. We went upstairs and upon the bed I rubbed her back which brought her some comfort.

David G phoned. Very bad because I seldom phone him. He says that Garry has found a girlfriend and they have been inseparable for three weeks. We laughed. On the very first date he took her home and was invited in for 'coffee'. The Nescafe was still warm when she whispered in his ear: "come on. We are going to bed". She dragged him upstairs leaving her mother, quite unperturbed, watching Terry Wogan's late show. Dave added that Billy is off work and depressed. We went off to bed at 10. Too tired.

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Wednesday May 11, 1983

 We refused to get up until 7:30 and then it was a rush to get all the breakfast consumed. As you know it's an Edwardian repast every day. I went out and got a thorough soaking at 9:30 when walking in to town to enquire at the job centre about possible courses for training in pub management. They know of nothing other than writing to breweries, which is what we have done without any success. Back at home I wrote to Bass North and Scottish & Newcastle.

Ally phoned at 12:30 (just as the sun came out) and asked me to make a quiche. She has back ache. If she isn't pregnant then I'm Sir Harold Wilson. I had a bath, scanned the BMDs in the Daily Telegraph. I do not miss the YP, not even vaguely. 

Labour want to 'Get Britain Back to Work'. I fail to see why. What is this obsession with work? Why should we sweat and labour until we drop? Surely, if we can survive until our three score years and ten without having to do anything it's all for the better.

I finished reading 'Dorian Gray' to the sound of rain splattering outside. It has been a dreadful May. Ally was home at 5 and we ate our peculiar quiche together. Later she reclined on a settee and almost leapt out of her skin when David B crept up to the window to peep in. He is always doing this. He tells us he is going ten pin bowling with the people from work next week. __________. Do we want a night out with him, Lynn and the Allinsons on Saturday? We shall see. 

We watched the final episode of the current season of 'Dallas'. The place was burnt down with all the Ewing family trapped upstairs. We now have to wait until September for the fire brigade to arrive. To bed at 9:15. I read 'Lord Arthur Savile's Crime' - a bit of a laugh. Was snoring by 11.

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