Sunday April 1, 1984

 4th Sunday in Lent

Mothering Sunday

New Moon

Sunny, bright, &c. Smothering Sunday. All Fool's Day. Busy. Rob came and so too did the ghastly Piries and Marisa. Uncomfortable to say the least. I now know how George VI felt when the Duke of Windsor kept flitting back to London after his abdication. Sadly, I cannot banish Pirie to France with a dukedom.

Ally suddenly proclaimed: 'Let's go to Horton' and so off we went arriving at 4:30 to find everyone. All the grandchildren except Hannah. A frantic hour. Silly really. We arrived back in Leeds at 7:20 to find a crowd waiting on the doorstep, grumbling. Opening late is dreadful. Jane came in at 8. She brings to mind Vivien Leigh. Busy. Glenfiddich-swilling David ('such a gentleman') _______. Ally's first Mother's Day. What joy.

-=-

Saturday March 31, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds 11

My name went up over the door in letters today. The Grand National. Watched the race. One horse dropped dead afterwards. Rain. I took Samuel down to the tap room where all the old men gave him money. He has a piggy bank like the Aga Khan. Ploughman's lunches. Michael Brown and Harold came. Such witty folk. Poor M is spending a week at Butlin's in May.

I went out with Samuel in his pram and bought an aspidistra, flowers and chocolates, &c. All for Mother's Day tomorrow. It was cold out.

The Aspidistra: forty years on.

Quiet in the bar. Ally downstairs with Margaret (Milne). I retired upstairs. Noisy Olive came in to the back bar. Edna, sitting in her usual spot upon a bar stool, says that the offensive Olive has 'had more prick than a second hand dart board'. Such fun. 

Toasted cheese sandwiches. A Vincent Price epic. Poor Edgar Allan Poe. Bed.

Note: (The Aspidistra lives on today in Samuel's possession, 2024).

-=-

Friday March 30, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds 11

We are having a stocktake and having metred optics installed on my birthday. Sod it. Mum phoned to confirm that they are coming here on Wednesday to stay over night and babysit when Ally and I go out to dine. Just where we will go I do not know. Mum says that Michelle Myers, the 17 year-old bride of my cousin Stephen, gave birth to a daughter, Gemma Louise (?) at the BRI last night. Bloody Hell, I can recall Stephen's christening as though it was yesterday. I sat with Uncle Albert who was talking to cousin Derek about fishing rods. That was back in '65 or '66. The family are all meeting at Waltergarth for 'Smothering' Sunday. We'll never find the time to go. 

I phoned a plumber about the continuing saga of the dripping Club Street radiator. Evans, for that is his name, will inspect the damage on Tuesday. Ally is going to have to be in Bradford for 8am.

Later we stood around in the bar looking like idle pub managers. Talked to David (Howard?) with the pipe. Ally looked like a doll in her Laura Ashley number. Beverley Pirie came in draped in a fur coat and was overheard saying she was 'slumming it'. The cow. We ignored her.

-=-

Thursday March 29, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds 11

Swapped roles. Ally, clad in her Laura Ashley number, went down to the bar to work with Audrey, and I cooked the pub lunches upstairs. Petal looked gorgeous and slim. I stood turning out pork pies with mushy peas and spied Kathleen creeping past heavily camouflaged. Silly girl. Give a woman the best years of your life and this is how she repays you. 

Laughed at a copy of the Daily Star which suggests that the Princess of Wales will have her second baby in Scotland, because the Royal Family are always at Balmoral in August. No, it will be back to Paddington, I fear.

Busy early doors. L. Gledhill came in with a sign which will display my name over the door of this establishment. He bought half a bitter and held it up to the light. Swine. Doesn't he realise that to do such a thing causes panic to run through the beer swilling customers? He announced that Elaine Wills gave birth to a son, David Christopher, just after noon today. I told him I want lights on my cool shelves and he mumbled favourably and went away laughing at Edna. 

Karen and Margaret worked. They pretended not to know that Joan is quitting.

-=-

Wednesday March 28, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds

Our so-called day off. Silly really. I do more work on Wednesdays than on any other day. We were up at dawn and in town for 9am. Ally bought a rich full, red skirt and a dress from Laura Ashley. She floated out of the changing rooms like a debutante. Samuel, pushed everywhere, slept throughout. He wore a helmet and looked like Biggles. 

Back to the Moorhouse to do the lunches. We needn't have bothered. Then back into town and on to Club Street. We found Mary (Moore) bereaved. A boyfriend, aged 91, died last Tuesday. We called in at the Red Lion and saw dear Enid. The pissed bus driver was in drinking. Elaine (Wills) went in today (to give birth) and Chris was with her at the BRI. Back to the Moorhouse. Ally plonked Samuel upon a table in the lounge bar and people peeped in on him. We had a few drinks and went to the fish and chip shop - silly really when we have so much fish on the premises. Hung a big red lampshade. Bed.

(Jane worked for Audrey who was at a 'leaving do' at the Metropole).

-=-

Tuesday March 27, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds 11

Why I write so much I do not know. Bloody Hell, I must be so boring. Tuesday is of course 'dray day'. The delivery came at a reasonable hour and I check everything so very carefully now. They won't swindle me out of Bacardi again. 

Samuel loves playing. He sat riding me knee as I sang 'Galloping Major'. Where have I got this from? Somewhere in the past dear Papa must have done similar to me and it has laid dormant all these years. Samuel squealed as I bounced him around. He is all gummy.

Ally opened up again and I bathed the lad after which he conked out and slept until 7. I think his bath water was too hot. He emerged like a lobster.

Joan Parkinson-disease phoned and announced her resignation because she says she is 'getting trouble from all sides' and wants no ill-feeling at work. I am gleeful because she is a barmaid I have wanted to see go. _______. Jane tonight. I sat with Reg (who was born Feb 14, 1901). Poor man.

-=-

Monday March 26, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds 11

I ignored the alarm clock and lingered in bed until 9 o'clock. Wind, rain, &c. Phoned Ken Gilbertson at the brewery about the TV ariel which blew off the roof on Saturday morning. He put me on to a Bradford firm. Bacon sandwiches and pots of tea. Played with Samuel. He does giggle a lot. 

News: The Queen arrived in Jordan today with, supposedly, a SAS crack unit. The royal plane has avoided the Lebanon and Syria. Edwina Hicks, daughter of Lady Pamela, married Jeremy Brudenell in Oxford on Saturday. HM and the duke attended. I had no idea she was engaged. The Press singled out Edwina for the hand of the P of W in about 1980 - until Diana came on the scene. 

It was a dead afternoon in 'the trading rooms' as F.O'B would say. Just Audrey and three old, dying men. Very sombre. Ally and I sat upstairs and had lunch watching a snowy TV - Miriam Stoppard discussing babies. At 3:30 Ally climbed into the bath and I pushed Samuel up the road in his pram. Dark clouds came over and the rain poured down on us. I went to the post office and bought a large Mother's Day card from baby to Ally. Her first Mothering Sunday. What a lucky child he is. 

_______. Ally went down to 'open up' and I bathed Samuel and changed him and expected him to scream for food only to have him collapse in my arms.

The news: Hysteria about the Queen's Jordan visit which is going to pass off peaceably. The Tisdall girl is going to appeal. ________.

-=-

Sunday March 25, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn

British Summer Time begins

3rd Sunday in Lent

Bacon sandwiches and the Sunday Telegraph. Fuss about the Queen's visit to Jordan tomorrow. King Hussein is reported to have said that Amman is safer than London. I would agree. Her Majesty flies out with Exocet detectors attached to the royal Tristar, and Mrs T has held an emergency meeting at Chequers, &c. All silly. We do not want the sovereign wrapped upm and cocooned from the outside world.

A quiet Sunday pub. Oh yes, one of The Bachelors (an early 20th century Irish vocal group) held court in the lounge last night. People greased around him as though he was Julio Iglesias or perhaps Des O'Connor. 

Veal for lunch. Doris Day film. Torvill and Dean nausea. They got 48 million perfect sixes in Ottawa. He really should make a honest woman of her. Ate chocolate and laughed at 'Bonanza'. Everyone had rabies.

Phoned Mama. She gave me a list of dates when they can visit for Samuel's christening. July 1 or July 22. Ally has spoken to Bessie. Her conversation was interrupted by Lady Atkinson, 'wife of that man involved in shipping', knocking on the door and asking for money for the local Tories. She must be the wife of Sir Robert Atkinson. Other neighbours, those across the lane, are called Napier and 'he's line line to have a title'. We have several Napier baronets and Lords Napier of Magdala and Napier & Ettrick. The latter is Princess Margaret's private secretary, but his heir is only a boy.They recently met the Earl of Strafford at the Hargreaves residence. Talk about 'high society'. Bessie isn't remotely interested in all this and isn't a snob, but knows of my interest in the peerage. Am I a snob?

The husband of the (Yorkshire) Ripper's second victim Emily Jackson came in the pub tonight. Tart mad he is.

-=-

Saturday March 24, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn

Extremely wet. Slept in. Maureen came in and found me in my lemon karate-style dressing gown. Did I spy a hint of lust beneath those old, mud-spattered spectacle frames? I lay abed with my wife, son and Daily Telegraph. The Tisdall girl who pinched a document from Michael Heseltine's office and passed it on to the ghastly Guardian has gone down for six months. There's an outcry at the harsh sentence! She wouldn't see the light of day again if I had been the judge.I am deliriously right-wing. Mike Brown says, and I'm sure I've repeated this before, that I am to the right of Genghis Khan.

Breakfast late. Went out at 10 and bought £10 of copper from the Post Office. Coming back I spied the vicar in his study preparing his sermon, and I called in to tell him that May 20 (for Samuel's christening) is quite out of the question. So, back to the drawing board. Apparently it requires a dispensation from the bishop to have Samuel baptized mid-afternoon. What hideous bureaucracy. 

Quiet afternoon. Ally and I sat in the bar with Terry (Egan). Ally and I have decided that we are perhaps too critical of bar staff. They are bloody good really, but living with people on a daily basis does highlight their faults. John phoned. They are not coming. Janette is going out and he is babysitting for Lynn and Dave.To Morrison's and spent £32. 

-=-

Friday March 23, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds 11

L. Gledhill phoned at 8:30 and was here an hour later and we went to court in order for me to acquire a full licence. Stood in a crowded corridor full of shoplifters, child molesters and prostitutes. One fallen lady looked extremely like Jean Shrimpton, in 60s gear which hadn't been laundered since 1966. After waiting an hour we were told by an usher that I need not actually appear in person and that the licence transfer is automatic. Sod it. And there I was dressed up like a tailors' dummy too. Samuel Smiths tie, the lot. 

Back home for 11. Leslie is so easy to talk to and not lacking in humour -unlike Fran O'Brien. Ally was making pastry and looked like a flour grader (see TV advertisements circa 1970-80). 

Samuel is upset about something. His nappies and out lying clothing spattered in yellow and foaming. He grumbled anyway. Later Ally slept on her pile of cushions and I had a plumber to the gents toilets. Vandals have attempted to walk off with a cistern tank. 

Not frantic tonight because Jane worked too. It's going to be a regular thing because last week I was too exhausted working six hours flat out. Ally forgot to bank today and so we had no change. Calamity. Audrey went across to the club and found some. 

News: The miners are still out. We are told that the Princess of Wales is just as nauseated as she was in her first pregnancy. (The Prince of) Wales himself is still in Africa. 

To bed after 12.

-=-

Thursday March 22, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds

Janice, the (fruit) machine woman came. A batch of photographs arrived mainly featuring Samuel in numerous positions. Some scantily clad. Ally left me holding the baby and bombed off to her dentist in Shipley. How did we ever manage to get through life being separated all day in our distant, grubby offices? She was back with gleaming polished pegs and no further visits until September. Busy lunches. ____________.

-=-

Wednesday March 21, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds 11

Springtime, &c. Slept late and Ally was in a temper about it because she wanted to be in town and shopping by 9. I was wallowing in the bath at this time. I told her frankly that we cannot rush or adhere to a strict timetable with Samuel. Eventually we went to Leeds at 10 and pushed the baby around in his pram breathing in the fresh, unpoluted air, and peering in shop windows. Bought very like. I looked at shoes.

Back for 12 to do the lunches. It was a busy few hours. Afterwards we took our son and heir to the clinic and had him weighed. 11lb 8oz. He behaved well midst the screaming multitude and for the most part he sat wide eyed and silent. A poor child there, from a mixed race liaison, had black and white patches all over his little face. He looked like a chessboard. The mother looked to be no older than 16. 

Back for 3:30. Lazed around and later snoozed in a chair. Made a fish pie, but Ally moaned that my messing around in the kitchen took too long. Saw 'Minder' and then the news. Mrs T is giving them jip in Brussels. At this rate we'll be out of the EEC by Christmas.

-=-

Tuesday March 20, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds

Peter N is 26 today. We left a present for him with John on Saturday. It's a shirt. I do like Peter Nason. You always know just where you stand with him. After ten years he hasn't changed in any way. 

Ally made it to the bar at 5:30 and did some cleaning. The place is a pigs breakfast and hasn't been touched properly in years. Filthy Piries.

Samuel is a bulky, stocky little thing. We are having him weighed tomorrow and are placing bets as to what he'll weigh in at. Ally says 11lb 9oz, and I say 11lb 13oz. His hair is coming back and will be dark.

Dead downstairs tonight. Jane stood around like a pound of wet cod. Things seldom hot up until the last half hour. Mike Brown and David Parry came in. We discussed non-consummation of marriage. What is non-consummation? Is it failure to penetrate or failure to ejaculate?

News: the dear PM goes to Brussels to sock it to the EEC sumit.

-=-

Monday March 19, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds

Another stocktake. Rob came at 8:30, and I staggered around with him, my eyes like piss holes in the snow. Felt most unrefreshed from my six hours in the Land of Nod. A good stock. A £30 surplus no less. Colin Black was upon us at 10:30 with Barry Jones who re-programmed the tills. Nigel Lawson's budget alterations now mean that Old Brewery bitter is 57p a pint , lager 69p, Sovereign bitter 60p, mild 56p, &c. Very good prices in comparison with Tetley's and the others.

Pork chops at 2. Audrey loves taking every opportunity to creep upstairs and peep into our little world. ____. Afterwards we all slept in a heap by the gas fire (Ally on a pile of cushions), me nursing Samuel, as 'Blue Peter' twittered in the background. 

Went downstairs at 5:30. Old Reg says he will go blind in six months. All were grousing at the price rises, but they will all have forgotten by next week. Joan glided in at 8 looking like she had just stepped out of the Savoy Grill. Immediately she mucked up the till and to avoid strangling her I adjourned upstairs where bathtime was just complete and Samuel lay sucking and giggling.

Harry and Marion Miller came in and I took them up to Ally after 10 minutes to avoid a drunken Irishman who was going on and on about Lord Mountbatten's assassination. Later I threw him out for signing Irish rebel songs. Harry Miller goes on and on but his heart is in the right place.

We got rid of Joan in a taxi. The Millers left at 11:30.

-=-

Sunday March 18, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds

2nd Sunday in Lent

No leisurely day abed for me. I was up at 8:30 and cleaned the beer lines. Ally came down and wiped shelves. The very old cleaner Anne doesn't always see the dirt. 

Old diaries came out last night and we re-lived ___________.

Dead to the world. Headache. Ally made a beautiful lunch. Veal, &c. We ate at 3 and collapsed for a couple of hours afterwards watching a hopeless film. We bathed Samuel at 5:30. He takes such notice of us nowadays. 

Ally went down at 7 with every intention of opening for the first hour but no sooner was she downstairs when Samuel awoke in howls and she had to come back up for the duration. It was busy later. Jane, mysterious Jane. She holidayed in the Bahamas last year. Just what dark secret does she harbour? Ally says she is recovering from a broken romance. Bed late. Read Noel Coward.

Takings: (B) £143.48, (L) £167.90

-=-

Saturday March 17, 1984

 St Patrick's Day

I went down at 11, without Secret Service cover, and waited for 'Lurch' to return and tear my head off. Obviously, he didn't appear. It was supposed to be a Michael Brown Saturday, but he didn't come either. I propped up the bar in the lounge and did little work. At 3 we drove to Guiseley and found Lynn and Susan out. Went to see John and found the Bakers at the flat. Katie has begun to talk, and seems to have 'come on' as Lynn would say. Frances was tatty. They looked like 'ragamuffins' in fact. That's something my mother says. What are ragamuffins? Janette delights in visitors and made us tea and cake. Samuel, in blue and white stripes today, looks edible. He is Ally's double.

I opened at 7. Had a quiet night. Margaret (Milne) joined me at 8. Marlene and Frank came in with another couple (he was heavily tattooed). Frank drank Mandarine Napoleon brandy, and they left at 10. Debbie enjoyed the holiday in Austria, but Mark hated it.

Ally and I had a long, in depth chatter about children. We are in agreement on everything.

Takings: (B) £178.16, (L) £198.82

-=-

Friday March 16, 1984

 Frantically busy. Today is my grandfather Wilson's birthday _________. Christine Braithwaite also celebrates today, as does Tony Brotherwood.

We have been putting up with a psycopathic drug-pusher who makes regular appearances in the tap room with a batttered lady friend with lank hair and a mock leather coat. The guy appears to be about seven feet tall and looks like a character from a Peter Cushing Hammer film. Tonight he annoyed me, and stepped out of line, throwing a dart behind the bar which speared a packet of nuts and was immediately 'clotched' as they say in Leeds. He left without a struggle but threatened to come back tomorrow at 11am to 'tear my head off'. Evil Edna was very chuffed at this very public 'clotching'. The man was a nuisance.

Up late. Ate currant tea cakes and watched a late 60s film. Ally delicious. Samuel slept well.

Takings: (B) £227.12, (L) £189.81

-=-

Thursday March 15, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds

Greville: Puff?

Stayed in bed until 8. I am resassured to read in the Daily Telegraph that since the budget N. Lawson is now a serious contender for the Tory leadership after Mrs T's resignation in 1995. I am of the same opinion. How long will Margaret go on? If she is defeated in 87/88 then it will be curtains, but a third term will see the PM in her late 60s and surely heading to retirement.  Interesting. 

Samuel, wearing his new clothes, did a lot of giggling. He now has fat knees and pudgy hands, and I cannot begin to describe the joy I feel when he looks upn at me - his father. I could weep. 

A volume of Noel Coward's diaries arrived in the post. An excellent volume. Why are almost all diarists with the exception of Samuel Pepys, homosexual? Is it an effeminate thing for a man to do? Were Greville and Creevey both poofs? And how about that Sassoon chappie? I can assure you that I am not sat here in a Hardy Amies creation with pink finger nails and string of pearls. Actually I look very respectable. Grey pants, blue shirt and a red tie. Every inch a publican. 

Lunch was a mad rush. Lots of food orders. Barely had time to eat afterwards. ______. Busy until 8. Went upstairs when Margaret and Karen came in. Watched the news. The Queen Mother was at the races watching the Cheltenham Gold Cup bringing a bit of light relief to the miners' crisis and the Labour furore about poor Mark Thatcher's Oman deal. Too pitiful. Alison was ironing until 10. The boom of the juke box below was infuriating.

Takings: (B) £208.92, (L) £154.42

-=-

Wednesday March 14, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds 11

Stock take. Ronnie came and left at about 10:30. However, we have a defecit of about £40. Ally drove Dave to the station. He left giving us £20 for Samuel's bank account. How good of him. I told him to come here on June 19. We'll see. Our so-called day off. Did the lunches and then went out to town at 3 to buy Samuel masses of clothes. Did a good deal of window shopping. Returned somewhat wind-blown and exhausted. Blame the fresh air. Upstairs Samuel was restless and grouchy. He must be a Dixon. The staff down below didn't  bother us and we sat in front of the TV eating ploughman's lunches and nodding off. Watched 'Minder' and the news. The miners are holding the country to ransom yet again. Thank God we have Margaret Thatcher and not that weakling Heath. The Irish have attempted to kill that nauseating IRA MP whose name escapes me. Bed at 11:30 or 12. Michael Brown phoned and canceled our night out.

Takings: (B) £166.39, (L) £126.91

-=-

Tuesday March 13, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds

When did Samuel begin to smile and gurgle like a proper baby? This seems to have crept upon us and I have no accurate record of his very 'firsts'. A lengthy breakfast with Ally and Dave. The usual cereals and fried sausages. A spider plant in the middle of the dining table was hanging in the butter and jam. 

Lawson: narrow money?

Dray day. Budget day. It was Nigel Lawson's first budget and as I sat upstairs watching it dawned on me that he might one day succeed dear M (Thatcher). A good budget. Only 2p on beer which will make our Sam Smith's bitter 56p. Other breweries sell ale at 66p or even 70p. Dave and I were puzzled about the chancellor's statement on the subject of broad and narrow money. 'It all looks the same to me', said Dave. Beef curry. Dave slept in the chair and I went down and opened up at 5:30. Ally and Dave joined me later. Jane worked. A dead night. Drank Manderine napoleon liqueur brandy afterwards and asked Dave to stand as a sponsor at Samuel's baptism - whenever that might be. We get on so well, the three of us. To bed late.

Takings: (B) £124.44, (L) £104.04

-=-

Monday March 12, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds 11

Dave G came carrying his large bag of belongings and looking very much the same as when I last saw him. We had roast beef and Yorkshire puddings. At 5:30 he came down with me to the dead bar and stood until closing time watching me work and laughing at Joan, who quite went to pieces on seeing the new tills. Ally came down __________. Later we had pie and peas then went off to bed.

Takings: (B) £137.14, (L) £108.65

-=-

Sunday March 11, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds 11

1st Sunday in Lent

A jolly old Sunday. Sausages and eggs with Graham and Gill. Then they went off to look at Anthony's flat. Apparently he has an eight foot glass topped dining table with stainless steel legs. The tarty Mandy came back, but missed seeing them. 

Rob (Piper) from the Butcher's Arms, came here. Just back from a horrible three-day event at Tadcaster, which involved play acting, role playing call it what you will, for Mike Walker at the brewery. It sounds quite hideous but we all have to go through it. I ran out of lager (I blame Graham's friend Mandy) and I had to borrow 18 gallons from the Station just down the road. The landlord there is a tenant and looked as if he was just returned from Mustique. Anthony came back at 2pm minus his Arabian 'bed mignon'. Gill tells us that Anthony's bedroom is all mirrors. It all shreiks of Lord Astor and Christine Keeler. Leather masks too. Graham and Gill returned to Coleford at 2:30.

Maurice Macmillan, recently styled Viscount Macmillan, son of 'Supermac', is dead, causing another by-election, this one in Surrey. No doubt it will kill off old Harold. The new heir and new Viscount is Alexander, Supermac's grandson. 

Walter Mondale's campaign appears to be wilting. A Kennedy clone by the name of Hart is sweeping in front in the caucuses. A president named Gary. Whatever next? Jane (Tudor) tonight. Samuel slept from 7pm until dawn and Ally came down for a couple of hours. 'Evil' Edna (as I call her) who sits at the bar in the tap room warned me about drugs in the back bar. She has eyes everywhere. Oh dear. Glynnie phoned. He's coming tomorrow.

Takings: (B) £116.34, (L) £183.88

-=-

Saturday March 10, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds 11

Riotous breakfast. Matthew ate toast while attempting hand stands against the kitchen wall. The Dixons went off shopping to Habitat and came back at 1. Graham and I had a few drinks in the tap room. Another Matthew Dixon, a Scottish alcoholic, joined us. At 3 Philip and Carol Middlebrough came with baby Thomas, who is a mass of blond curls, and resembles Harpo Marx. Graham worked in the bar with me tonight until 9 when they went off for a pizza with the Middlebroughs. Karen, Steve, Di and Paul came.

The Prince Edward is twenty today. He is reported to be knocking about with a certain Romy Adlington, daughter of a Hampshire wine importer. Royal princes seem to practice on these busty, middle class, actressy blondes. One day Edward will mary a Marquis's willowy daughter, you mark my words. Katie Rabett has gone the way of Davina Sheffield, because of a seedy past.

Sir Hugh Fraser, MP is deceased. Another by-election. 

Takings: (B) £195.53, (L) £246.52

-=-

Friday March 9, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds 11

Graham and Gill arrived here with Matthew. We thought she might announce that she's pregnant, but she didn't. Matthew looks very much like the Lynn family and is full of spirit. I think we thought they expected the Moorhouse to be something of hovel, but they inspected the place with approving looks upon their faces. At 5:30 an acquaintance who work at Formwood came to see them. The wife is called Mandy ______. They stood at the bar until 11pm and she grew steadily louder from the constant flow of lager. I frequently spend my evenings watching people become horribly pissed. It is a strange ritual isn't it? Graham was a bit breathless and sounds very much like Sir Robin Day when he's had a few. But very amusing. Their old friend the actor Anthony ____ came at 11. He grows more and more effeminate with the passing years. He shares a flat in Roundhay with a homosexual arab friend. He works at Lloyd's bank when not treading the boards, and earns only £5,000 p.a. Ridiculous. He drank Bols Parfait Amour liqueur, but he switched to pints of 'butch' Old Brewery bitter. Bed after 2am. Knackered.

Takings: (B) £208.00, (L) £213.93.

-=-

Thursday March 8, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds 11

Wintry day. Did my order for the brewery. Mum and Dad cannot tear themselves away from Samuel. They have been such a great help, and went off to Guiseley at 3. They say that next time they will babysit and let us go out for dinner. Karen didn't work and so I did a stint with Margaret. Sarah and Trevor appeared at 9. She was wearing leather trousers. I took them upstairs to see the baby, but I was far too busy to talk to them. The toilets flooded and people were were paddling around in urine. Gill phoned to say they are coming tomorrow. Jolly good.

Takings: (B) £177.82, (L) £162.76.

-=-

Wednesday March 7, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn

Ash Wednesday

Mum.

Panic stations at lunch when a jolly funeral party came in wailing and merrymaking and drinking like fish. I find such celebrations slightly nauseating. Mum and Dad came in at 11 and stood downstairs amidst the black-clad multitude. I found myself, on my day off, running around pulling pints and serving food to the mourners. At 2 I managed to join Ally, Mum and Dad for a sandwich. Mum had been helping Ally in the kitchen. This catering lark is all old hat to her. 

At three Ally and I went to Bradford to inspect the house and buy a pair of trousers and a cot costing £67 minus mattress. Back to the Moorhouse for 5:30. Dad was in the bar chatting to Maureen and I attempted to have a night off which didn't go quite to plan. My roast beef upstairs was interrupted by a drunken trio in the tap room - two men and a haughty, high and mighty, woman. They left peaceably after I refused them beer. After closing we sat in the bar for a couple of hours. _______. We told them of the split with Dave & Elaine Allinson, and for some reason Lynn wanted this news to be kept from Mum.

Takings: (B) £163.74, (L) £205.75).

]-=-

Tuesday March 6, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds 11

Shrove Tuesday

Lynn is twenty six. We phoned her at about 8:30 and all she could say was: "Oh, I can't get away from you, can I ?" _______. 

Shrove Tuesday, but no pancakes. A day of furious activity. I scrubbed the cellar for the dray which came at 8:30. L.Gledhill was here at 9 the the new (pre-set) till. I made cups of tea for everyone and he went up to the tray, inspected the Denbyware, and drank the lot. He picked up every cup and drank the lot as if he'd been lost in the Gobi desert since Christmas. We were fully operational by 11 and LG, thirst quenched, went off to the Cheshire Midland. What a pleasant change he is to F.O'B. How lucky we are.

Maureen took to the tills like a duck to water, but Audrey got into a fluster. It was a quiet night in the bars with Jane Tudor. We saw the Rev Terry Munro at 7. A bearded hush-puppy footed Guardian reader, if you ask me. He only allows baptisms on the third Sunday of the month, and at dawn. We are told that Samuel can only have two godfathers and one godmother. The church doesn't dictate that rule to the aristos, so why restrict us? May 20 is a plan.

Takings: (B) £114.72, (L) £120.04.

-=-