Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ
Ally and I are convinced that we have managed in these busy, toying weeks to conceive a baby. Ecstatic. We deserve some good news at the end of this hideous, nightmare of a year. _____________. The magic date is July 16, 1986. If only. The coming weeks will reveal all. No staff this lunch. Dead really. Ally went to Guiseley to see Lynn. She phoned the other day after having had a bad week. She had been to see Mum's grave with Frances and Katie. Too hideous. I made pie and peas for the Egans. Much talk of España. They spoke of the flight home. Yesterday we had tales of the flight going out. Sam was violently sick tonight ----- downstairs Chris and Liz worked together for the first time. They did well, though the till was down a fiver. It could be an error, but there again ......
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