Monday August 22, 1983

Linthorpe Hotel, Middlesbrough

Sophie Birdwood.

 The morning 'funnies' (tabloid newspapers) have photos of the Hon Sophie Birdwood returning from Balmoral. They say she is Prince Andrew's new 'gal' after Koo Stark's demise. Sophie is a Selina-Scott-Princess-of-Wales-look-alike. It would be nice if HRH settled down with a willowy, virginal aristo. I am sure he will do before 1993. Unfortunately, Sophie was 'Deb of the Year' in 1982. And I think that the Queen has an aversion to debutantes. 

We have a letter from Mary (Moore) who has fallen and broken some ribs. Betty has suffered a stroke, and Miss Whincup is back from York. We also received a cheque for £800 from the building society which has to go straight to the bank this week. 

I worked in the vault all day. Hideously dismal. Stood looking at Ron Perry's broken nose and re-living the details of his pathetic brawl. I do not think that Roy should entertain him. The place is a home to thugs and villains. Mike Walker from the brewery came to see us. 

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Sunday August 21, 1983

 12th Sunday after Trinity

Linthorpe Hotel, Middlesbrough

A family day. Ally was desperate to see the shire horses but they came and went before we could look at them. I spent the morning cleaning up the mess in the dining room from last night's orgy. Sausages and other morsels on sticks were scattered everywhere. A gang of lads all with dyed blond hair and crates of diet pils lager were responsible. I worked in the lounge 12-2pm. Kids filled the garden and coloured balloons floated above the cloudless skies. Old Mags was slewed and fell around in the kitchen . It's worrying because she must only be topping up - falling over after only a few halves. We had hot dogs later and crept to bed in the afternoon. Worked 8-11 tonight and felt sluggish after a long sleep. I was up and down from the cellar all night changing barrels. At 10:45 in the vault Ron Perry had a brainstorm and attacked Geoff and almost killed the chap. His friend Ian was bashed over the head with a pewter tankard by Norma and he was taken to hospital where they gave him 15 stitches. Bloody fools.

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Saturday August 20, 1983

 Linthorpe Hotel, Middlesbrough

What's happening in the news? I simply do not know. I assumed that I would have to carry on reading the newspapers on a daily basis as I did for nine long years. Yet since April, or at least July, I haven't missed them. Is Koo Stark Duchess of York yet? Has Chad been annexed to Libya? How are the PM's eyes? Is David Steel now Viscount Peebles? Ally and I worked 11-2. Later we walked to Hinton's supermarket. Bought a film for the camera and a packet of biscuits for our room. Slept afterwards. Barbecue night. At 12 we went up to bed and Roy assured me that he will follow our example, but at 5am I could quite clearly hear him talking on the microphone. A band had been playing in the dining room and they had a knees up afterwards.

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Friday August 19, 1983

 Linthorpe Hotel, Middlesbrough

Our first pay day as Samuel Smith employees. A historic moment. For the first time in our relationship I earn more than my wife. We received £752.88 for six weeks work. Ally has a throat problem now. It's something going around the hotel staff but only seems to take one victim each week. Charlie Poole is also smitten and he sat coughing into his beard. He's a good sort is Charlie. Ex-RN and apparently, in days gone by, a force to be reckoned with. Now a 54 year-old ruin. It was barbecue night again but I was shut away in the hideous dining room. I have been listening to the exploits of young William (Barnes). I am honoured because he is a silent lad usually - at that awkward stage, 17 in November, and bored senseless. Ally's bump is growing and she looks beautiful. She feels quite different, and looks podgy.

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Thursday August 18, 1983

 Linthorpe Hotel, Middlesbrough

The fire alarm was sounding off all through the night. Up at 7:15 and drank tea with Mags Snr and Charlie. Reports from the party. Sounded riotous. Falstaff and Ophelia didn't fall in until after 4am. We have a letter from Frank and Bessie. The Rev Matthew Lynn is to be translated to the Isle of Wight. Are only bishops translated? Young Matthew has curls just like Graham did as a baby. Andrew is still unemployed and going out with the mysterious Lorraine. Frank's written contribution is a great honour, according to Ally. Busy night. A private party in the dining room. Ally has been having fun in the kitchen. Mags, a hopeless cook, has been laying down the law on pastry making, and Ally, an exquisite cook, has kept her cool and remained good humoured. The make pastry with self raising flour and look aghast when Ally calmly says she prefers to use plain. They make some hideous food here. When we go home next week we intend having roast beef and Yorkshire pudding - galore.

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Wednesday August 17, 1983

 Linthorpe Hotel, Middlesbrough

Dry day. I brought Ally her eggs to bed at 10, and we both ate in our undies. Too hot to wear clothes. We decided to go to town again and got a bus at 12:30 and lunched at the Masham on steak and kidney pie and roast potatoes. We couldn't locate the Sam Smith's pub the 'Why Not?' It's somewhere in the vicinity. The manager of the Master Cooper has been given the push and Tim, the horrible scruffy Tim, has been given the job of relief manager for about two weeks. We went into Mothercare again and in Marks & Spencer's I bought a tie, a shirt and a pullover. Well, if I am going to be a daddy I might as well look like one. Home at 5 for tea and biscuits. Laying on the bed I finished Ken Follett's The Man From St Petersburg. Worked in the vault from 7. Ally in the lounge bar showing a new girl, Jill, the ropes. Later in the lounge I found Mike kissing Ally and congratulating her on being pregnant. It was news to Sean too. They went off to a fancy dress Shakespeare themed party. Roy went along as Falstaff but looked more like King Farouk. Mags as Ophelia wearing a wet night shirt festooned with plastic roses and carrying a bottle of vodka. We went up to bed with coffee.

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Tuesday August 16, 1983

 Linthorpe Hotel, Middlesbrough

I went downstairs and found the cook, draped in black, mourning her mother, and she gave me a tray with cornflakes and cups of tea. Ally had her cereal and then we slept until 10. I felt useless and dead to the world, any Ally was no better. The rain was teaming down and our day out to Redcar was abandoned. Later I went down to make boiled eggs and was laughed at by people all over the hotel. Mags reminded me of my solo musical performance. Far from sounding like Nat King Cole Ally says I was more like Bernard Manning, or one of those dreadful, pissed-up club acts. Ally sweet in her dungarees. We went out in the drizzle to the bank and then the supermarket where I almost fainted. Back in bed this afternoon. A Chinese take-away on trays watching a film. I have almost finished the latest Ken Follett. Another gripping tale. This boy will go far.

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Monday August 15, 1983

Singing Nat King Cole's 'Stardust'

 Linthorpe Hotel, Middlesbrough

We receive our first pay cheque on Friday - thanks be to God. I haven't had a wage packet since April. How right I was to quit the YP. I have not missed or longed for any aspect of that job. Tonight Roy sat and quizzed me about licensing laws and what I know about them. This led to a late night orgy. Ally went to bed and I sat with Jon-Paul, Mags, Roy, Marie, Dave, James, CID Dave, &c. A riotous party. I fell flat on my back, resulting in bruising. Roy took down the microphone and we all sang until 4 in the morning, much to the agony of those trying to sleep upstairs. 'Song Sung Blue' by Neil Diamond and several Nat King Cole numbers later I grovelled up to bed. I recall dancing in the grip of Marie, who is like a great bear. Ally was awake __________.

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Sunday August 14, 1983

 11th Sunday after Trinity

Linthorpe Hotel, Middlesbrough

Sundays are more relaxed and seem to me to be the only day that is any different from the others in this business. Hot, glorious day, but too busy. I worked in loung 1 and Ally in the kitchen. Nat King Cole on the juke box and a gentle breeze blowing through the garden door. At 2 we had chicken and sat with trays watching Clark Gable in 'China Seas'. Ally didn't like the noise and suggested we should begin a campaign to ban film music. Roy and Marie went off to a Greek wedding at 2:30 - Marie looking extremely nautical in a 'Lady Diana' sailor suit. We didn't go back to the bar until 8. I asked Roy where he originated from and I took a guess. I suggested Cheshire. No. Manchester, then? No. In fact he's from Chesterfield, the town of the crooked spire. A muscular guy in a string vest was leaning on the jukebox holding a stolen glass (from another pub). Roy asked him to leave and he made a grab for my tie. A close thing. Young Mike's car was pranged in the car park. I was later left in charge of the hotel but felt no undue strain from the heavy mantle of responsibility.

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Saturday August 13, 1983

Linthorpe Hotel, Middlesbrough

 A deadly quiet, peculiar day. Business so unpredictable. One Saturday quite opposite to another. Ally and I worked in lounge 1 with Janice who stands no nonsense from the customers and verbally assaults them.Afterwards we sat in a corner listening to the treasury of jokes from the repertoire of JT and Rose. Belly laughs. I love listening to joke telling but find it almost impossible to tell one. I either forget the punch line or give the game away long before the climax. Ally was tired and so we went up to bed. We are not sure that all the staff know of our expected delivery. Young Mike pinched Ally's buttocks the other day _________.

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