Wednesday November 6, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

Crisp sort of day. Blustery though. 

Dad has posted me Mum's Christmas cake recipe. It arrived today. He phoned at 9:30 to ask how I feel and discuss whether he should come. I said no. It was good of him to offer, but there's little he can do here. I am feeling much better. We went to market and came back at 10:50. Leslie Gledhill came. Whispers, whispers. We went into the tap room. He says my returned barrel was well below specification and asks if water can possibly have found its way into the barrel accidentally. I said no. Further checks are going on. He went away. It is a war of nerves. What a fucking cheek. I have a clear conscience anyway. I expected a call tonight but none came. Ah well, it's only a job. We still have each other, Sammy and Club Street, and a large loving family. Much better tonight. Ally and I had a drink. I felt like Nero playing his organ as Athens burned. Liz Melvin worked.

The State Opening of Parliament. The Queen said something about salmon fishing. She went in state to Westminster with the Princess Anne, Mrs Mark Phillips. Where is the captain?

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Tuesday November 5, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

Election Day USA

The chill has gone from my stomach. At bedtime last night I drank a cup of warm milk laced with whisky. This, I think, did me some good. Ally ran around all day like a mad thing and really is a treasure. I just sprawled in front of the fire with Dickie Mountbatten whilst the pub heaved below. In two years I have never been sick. The pub heaved below. Busy with food. Uncle Peter came but I didn't go down. Sam was very good and sympathised. He kept saying 'Daddy sick', pulling a horrible face too. Ally and Sam went to Guiseley at 4 to Sue's bonfire, but were stuck in a traffic jam near the Yorkshire Post for three hours. A bomb scare. Poor buggers. They arrived at Sue's at 7:15 when the bonfire was nothing but embers. Sam was good in the car and drank pop and guzzled crisps and only cried when hailstones cracked on the roof. I went down much better at 8pm. 

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Monday November 4, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

I woke up feeling well and truly whacked. Ice-cold tummy, weak knees, &c. Slumped around all afternoon like a dying man. Ally thought I was giving one of my Olivier routines, but I was genuinely knackered and in some pain. I am blaming the sausage rolls from the freezer which I foolishly consumed last night whilst glancing at 'Mountbatten' by (Philip) Ziegler. Was violently sick at 3pm and thereafter took to my bed until 8 o'clock when I went below to see poor Ally, who was really good, and realised the gravity of my situation.

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Sunday November 3, 1985

22nd Sunday after Trinity

Ally better. Graham John Dixon is 30. Thomas Elmer was christened at Pudsey Parish Church. After a roast beef lunch and 'Eastenders' omnibus we went to Pudsey. Jill invited us last week to the after party. Eleanor had been invited to the ceremony because Hilda says that auntie has fallen hook, line and sinker for the vicar of St Oswald's Guiseley, who conducted the ritual. Cousin Stephen came in with his 2 year-old daughter, Gemma. Back at 6 to open up. Chris Mawson started work. My God, he's an old 18.

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Saturday November 2, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds, LS11 5NQ

Another hideous day. Ally can be so very unreasonable at times. Elizabeth worked tonight. Ally didn't come down. _____________. Upstairs after closing I devoured 2 Cornish pasties and watched a late film. Ally and Sam were asleep together and so I moved him to his own suite of rooms.

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Friday November 1, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

One shit of a day. Ally was in a foul mood from the start and I was feeling hellish. Then L. Gledhill phoned to say the barrel I returned recently is out of specification, whatever that means, and off he went leaving me hanging in mid-air. I bashed around in the bar threatening resignation. Blood, sweat, toil and tears, &c. We walked to the local 'play group' but they have an eight year waiting list. Poor Samuel will have pubic hair and tattoos before he can join. 

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Thursday October 31, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

Hallowe'en

All Hallows Eve. The new girl Elizabeth Melvin started. She will pick it up, I do suppose. All Crimplene and no finger nails. She lives with her boyfriend and 15 month-old daughter, Clare Louise, and saving to buy a house. She will only take £10 a week from us. In contrast the Daily Telegraph has a stunning photo on the front page of the Waleses waltzing around an Australian ballroom. The princess wearing a priceless emerald and diamond necklace , but as a headband. It is reported to be a gift from HM. Diana never fails to stun the public with her little fashions coups. The Royal Yacht has sailed into Grenada. Isn't that the place the US invaded a couple of years ago at the invitation of the government? I have given up on John Updike. I only ever read exceptional works of fiction, and The Witches of Eastwick isn't one. Don't get me wrong. It will be hailed as a 20th century classic. Twentieth century writers are few and far between. N. Coward, E. Waugh, G. Greene, D. Du Maurier, C. Cookson, J. Collins, &c. (That's enough authors -Ed.)

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Wednesday October 30, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn Leeds LS11 5NQ

Dad went off at lunchtime to Settle via Guiseley and thee stonemason. He has withdrawn £280 from his TSB account to pay for the stone. He has of course provided for this. I have been feeling very low. I could scream and bang my head against a wall. What is the bloody point of our existence? Ally phoned Bessie to enquire about the proposed weekend there with Lynn & Dave. Oh, no. The weekend in question is the Rose Growers dinner in Jersey and they'll be away. Never mind. Bessie was gloomy. Andrew and Lorraine have announced that they are buying a house and setting up home together in the New Year - a union sealed only by an engagement ring. F & B are both livid and say they are "old fashioned". Odd, eh? They were not old fashioned in the past with other family events _________ (sensitive redaction). I do not mean to be unkind. Just Ally and I tonight. A women's choir came in. I recognised a face. It was Margaret Edwards from my old Benton Park days. What a frumpy thing she looks, but on chatting with her she most certainly isn't. 

Other news: An inquiry into the recent spy trial has been ordered. Less said. The future Sir Lester Piggott had his last race yesterday. He has ridden 3,349 winners. Charles Douglas-Home, editor of 'The Thunderer' died yesterday. He was a nephew of Sir Alec Douglas-Home, and was heir presumptive to the heir apparent to the Earldom (of Home), and a first cousin of John, Earl Spencer, MVO.

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Tuesday October 29, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn Leeds LS11 5NQ

Uncle Peter.

We discuss the proposed movements for our holiday next month. Lynn and Dave want a weekend without the children at Winchester and so we suggest Nov 22/23. They will ask Audrey if she can cope with the three. I think that Dad would manage better. The Christmas programme has also cropped up. Dreaded Christmas. The first one without the woman who was Christmas epitomised. Mum was Santa Claus, the Christmas fairies, and the Queen's message rolled into one. Dad has said he wants to come here because he can be more useful while we are working. Lunch was busier. Ally and Dad stood in the bar. Someone came in and remarked on Dad's youthful looks. Mum and Dad were always the youngest looking grandparents. Uncle Peter appeared and we all had a morbid conversation about graves, Uncle Albert's death and Uncle John Wilson's tenure as president of Pudsey Conservative Club, &c. He asked whether we selected the spot for Mum's grave because he thought it was in a strange place, tucked away in a corner. Mum, of course, would have wanted a quiet spot. I do not think Dad and Peter are on the same wave length at all. News: the £5m Cyprus spy trial has resulted in a man's acquittal. Deaths include Lord Davis of Leek, a Leftie. Births include a son to Alexander and Joanna Haddo (Earl & Countess?), so a grandson for Lord Aberdeen & Temair. The Queen and Duke of Edinburgh arrived in Bridgetown yesterday. It that Barbados? My geography of the Caribbean isn't good.

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