Monday May 28, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds

Bank Holiday in the UK & USA

I awoke at 8:30 to find Samuel watching me. Ally was nowhere to be seen and she came in ten minutes later after 'bottling up' downstairs. Yawning, I staggered to the lounge and switched on the TV. Eric Morecambe is dead. He was 58. He's gone to join Tommy Cooper, Diana Dors and Sir John Betjeman. Oh, and Lady Gweneth Cavendish, 98. Ernie Wise was on the news trying to look sad. He always seems so false. Am I misjudging the man?

It's the nastiest, coldest Whit since 1954 say the weather boffins and subsequently nobody wants to drink cold ale. Jane worked. (Audrey is on holiday this week). No word from Sue. If she gives birth today to a son he will have to be Eric Morecambe Nason, so let's hope she'll hang on until tomorrow.

Later. We lounged until 7. It's the thing to open late when we have an extension at the end. The 6 o'clock news reveals that Reginald Bosanquet is dead too. He had cancer. Eric Morecambe Bosanquet Nason?

Jill, Tim, Karen and Steve came in. Steve bespectacled. A stoppyback. Jill, in great form. We drank Tia Maria with fresh cream floated. Naughty but nice. We climbed around on buffets and other pub furniture. The Sandersons left earlier, but Jill and Tim stayed until daybreak at 4am. Aaarrgghhhh!

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