Moorhouse Inn, Leeds
Feel awful. Headache, &c. A quiet afternoon. At 12:30 I went back to bed and slept until 4. Ally went to town and the delights of Leeds Market and at 5 we had eggs and bacon.
A dead night downstairs, but fun. Ally worked with Margaret and I sat with Audrey, Terry, and Bernie &c. Had a few halves. We laughed at Brian and counted the number of times he said: "when Wilf was at the Eagle". We counted at least 48 times. Brian is a lonely old fart. We had an extension until 11:30 (for the Bank Holiday) but the place was like a tomb. Terry went home pissed at 12 and I convened a staff meeting and Ally, Audrey, Margaret and her husband Dougie partook of a quiet drink in the corner of the lounge. Audrey says that (Michael) Pirie has been sacking his bar staff. The Egans are going to France on Tuesday taking Tracey.
Still no word from Susie. Will it be Samantha, James, Jennifer or Clint? The excitement is mounting.
Sammy Bear is a pig - true.
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