Moorhouse Inn
Hayley is two. Ally went to a birthday party at the new Sanderson pile on Crawshaw Rise (or is it Drop?).
Tonight, as planned, Chippy (now suave, and known as Gerry Ash) and a gang consisting of Ian Pitts (normal) and a red headed 24 year-old bank clerk with a frustrative personality, and his Mexican-like silent brother. A long evening of debauchery. They were drinking the Diet Pils and became hopelessly intoxicated. I drank Campari and was the height of sophistication all evening.
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