Friday June 24, 1983

Haddon Hall.

 I walked to town and met Ally outside the bank at 12:30. We went to see a young man about obtaining £800 until August 20 when we can get this amount from our building society account. Sam Smith's want a £500 bond and we thought we'd spend the rest on smartening ourselves up. We cannot be seen at the Linthorpe Hotel looking like Greenham Common 'peace' people. We had a quick drink at the Berni and then Ally went back to her labours. I went to buy food and bought Ally a Minton Haddon Hall tea cup (£5.25) and a pair of gold studs for her petite, exquisite ears. These gifts are of course to commemorate our second wedding anniversary. Home hot at 3:30. Watched Wimbledon. Chris Lloyd was defeated by an unknown juvenile. Had fish. Watched Duran Duran on Channel 4. Prince Andrew was on the news. The boy was opening the Mountbatten Athletics Stadium in Plymouth. He's a real bluff sailor. Kisses for Lady Romsey and broad grins. He doesn't give off a royal aura. Perhaps it will come in time. I am eagerly awaiting the dissolution honours.

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Thursday June 23, 1983

Ally: peach

 Heavy Rain. Ally went to work in a baggy dress. She was uncomfortable in a skirt yesterday. Pregnancy suits her. She is like a peach and eyes are brighter than ever. She came home at 12:30 and an hour later we walked to Saint Street where she sat in a waiting room full of heavily pregnant women. I stood outside with a rolled umbrella watching a feeble old man trying to park his car in a tiny gap. She came out having seen Sister Matthews, a midwife, who is as broad as she is tall, and pleasant with it. Ally was weighed. She is 8st 5lb. At home I made the dinner and watched John McEnroe shouting and screaming at Wimbledon. Ally phoned Bessie and I phoned Mum at Horton. She says Maria and the children are in Guiseley but everyone in Guiseley has sent Catherine's birthday presents to Scotland. John and Janette are going to Scotland for the weekend. Janette hasn't been back since she left in January.

Ally went to bed at 10 and I watched Sir Robin Day's programme. Norman Beresford Tebbit is a man to watch. I like him and always thinks he talks such sense about trade unions. The ghastly Gwyneth Dunwoody makes my blood boil. 

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Wednesday June 22, 1983

Club Street.

 I went and stood with Ally at her bus stop and watched her disappear down the lane. I found a corner of the garden and sat crouched like an Indian among the conifer bushes and bags of builders sand. Mrs Greenwood's door was open and so I climbed over the wall and spent ten minutes with her. She told me that Betty Heap at number 20 (Club St) is a fallen woman. I have seen a young Pakistani coming and going at odd hours and assumed he was a lodger. Betty must be at least 60. 

At 11 I switched on the telly and watched the State Opening of Parliament. No stunning measures. It is always touch and go as to whether Lord Hailsham will survive the spectacle. We were told that HM had excused him from walking backwards.The Queen looked older. The Duke of Edinburgh always has a grin on his face. I'd love to know what he's thinking. Back into the garden with cheese on toast at 12. I am instructed by Ally to get brown. She likes bronzed barmen. 

My cousin-in-law-to-be Paul Edwards is 19 today. He looks much older. 

Later, the woman from the social services who comes to visit Britt (Greenwood) at night to ensure she's tucked up knocked on our door to say she's found her on the floor ... again. We went round. Poor Mrs Greenwood was dazed  and shaken. She fell over three hours before whilst making a sandwich. We gave her a brandy and she came round. She is terrified of being taken away to hospital and pleads with the Irish nurse not to tell anyone. Her sons were phoned who say they'll visit later. We sat with Mrs G until 8:30. A thunderstorm. We told her our baby news. She confided in us that she had been a naughty girl and had to get married when she was 23 - in 1911, the year of King George V's coronation and when Asquith was PM! Those days were different. 

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