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Monday December 3, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds

Ally is storming around like Arthur Scargill making life here in 20th century Hunslet quite hellish. She needs vitamin B6 if you ask me. That's all it is. Pre-menstrual tension. She is like an Ethiopian lioness taking chunks out of me. She went off with Samuel to market and I splashed in the bath. Bessie phoned to say Gill went into Gloucester hospital yesterday. Her waters have burst and so it's only a matter of time until we have little Siobhan on the scene. Ally phoned them later, but they had no further news.

-=-

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Tuesday January 22, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn Cold and quiet. Dave Glynn phoned tonight but Ally and I were in the cellar, and when we phoned back Lily said that David has...