Wednesday July 11, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn

The Linthorpe.

To the Linthorpe Hotel this afternoon. We thought it had all been planned but we arrived at 4pm to find Roy in bed and Marie watching the racing on TV with a look of great surprise upon her face. She put the blame on the dog. Saxon, the ageing, vicious alsatian, is dying of a liver complaint, and William Barnes, the vicious, juvenile son, is on the loose again after assaulting Charlie. Roy came in wearing his vest and we had tea and biscuits and gossiped about LG and F.O'B. Samuel sat wide-eyed. We are told that Mags and Michael Gaskin are unofficially betrothed. We had drinks in the garden and then in the lounge. Crowded with revellers. Became quite legless. Lager and brandy do not mix. Giggled with Marie and Mags and did my usual dead miner lying on the picket line routine. Sore elbows. Ally slept with Samuel from about 11. To bed pissed after 2am. Depressed for some reason.

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