Moorhouse Inn, Leeds
Hot. Mum phoned to say Benjamin's heart is on the blink. A murmur, or something. The lad is under observation. Poor Sue. I phoned her - she wasn't too worried. They are now looking at a house on Thorpe Lane but it's too expensive. Ally phoned Lynn for a bulletin. She has been having the occasional 'twinges' and restless nights, but no nearer delivering. I would like a Baker nephew. It would be too dreadful for David to spend the rest of his life surrounded by women. To Linfood and then Club Street. We have another leak. A communication says we finish paying for the house in November, 1989. Phoned Lanzarote and got no joy. They were out. It's Sheila's birthday today and I guess they are at the Vic having peppered steaks. I am looking forward to a holiday in the sun. Ally was made to be brown.
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