Wednesday February 11, 1987

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

I am growing old. Receding hair, flab, constant lethargy, &c. So awful. I am increasingly antagonised by my fellow man and dependent on the Daily Telegraph. I am almost 32 and look it. I also now listen to Radio 2. Derek Jameson and all that. 

Watched the Duke of York today take his seat in the Lords and sit on the Crossbenches listening to Baroness Seear going on and on about growing cabbages. Poor boy.

Graham came at 6 for a few hours and we sat upstairs. He is a breath of fresh air. They are going to Spain in July with Peter and Dee. We nattered about education. He has not ever considered sending Matthew or Simon to a public school, but he does of course live in a leafy village. He is buying a house near Rugby, at West Haddon, or somewhere. His office is a garden shed. We had a inter-house quiz night extravaganza. Ally worked with Mags. The incumbent came from the Old Red Lion. He and five managers inc. the Raynville, the Hansom Cab [York], were all sacked on the same day. Poor overworked LG.

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Tuesday February 10, 1987

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

Uncle John Edward [Rhodes] is 51 today. What an unhappy man he is these days. Sheila has funny lumps everywhere but refuses to see a doctor, and cousin Valerie has set herself up as a rival property agent in Lanzarote, now employed by a rival firm purely because of her Rhodes connections. Dad says his niece is a little peroxide tart with a voracious appetite for Spaniards. Oh dear. Traumas. Samuel called Audrey a "stupid bastard" in the midst of a crowded lounge bar this morning. I blushed, and that is unusual for me. The worst thing about it was that everybody laughed and sniggered. _________. We do intend to send Sam to the North Leeds and St Edmund's Hall Preparatory School where perhaps his use of flowery language will be [undecipherable]. Just Ally and I tonight again. Quiet, but Clemmie wasn't and was still bright eyed at 11:45pm playing with her Royal Doulton rabbit, Bess. Joe House asked the question: "what do you call a sleeping fish?" Answer: "a kipper". Discussing darts with Jack Collett, he said: "I couldn't hit a cows arse with a shovel." So graphic. Goodnight.

News: Lord Stockton's Westminster Abbey memorial service.

The Countess of Bradford gave birth to a son in London on Saturday.

Obituaries: Lady Agnes Eyston, at East Hendred, Oxon, aged 79. She was Lady Agnes Marjorie Alice Mary Savile, eldest daughter of the fifth Earl of Mexborough. She married in 1930, Capt Thomas More Eyston, Royal Berkshire Regiment, of Hendred House, Wantage, who died of wounds received in action in 1940.

Lady Elizabeth Byng, who has died aged 89, formerly lived at Wrotham Park, Middlesex, the fine Georgian country house built for the unfortunate Admiral Byng [executed on his quarterdeck pour encouager les autres in 1757] which is now the seat of her son Julian Byng.

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Monday February 9, 1987

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

Horrible wet day. Samuel and I got a soaking this morning going to the bank. We saw Dad yesterday at Sue's. He looked awful and grey probably due to a few late nights, but I do worry about him. He seemed so low and off he went back to his remote Horton. 

Just Ally and I tonight. Very quiet, which is good because the beer supplies are pitiful. Upstairs we watched 'Nemesis', the redoubtable Jane Marple played by Joan Hickson. V. good. Phoned Marita today to say we are OK for dinner on February 17, to be told they are selling up and opening a hotel in Harrogate. Sounds exciting.

The news that the Duchess of York has been to see Tony Kenny of St Thomas's Hospital for a pre-pregnancy check-up has set the medical grapevine humming. George Pinker, of St Mary's Paddington, is 62, and speculation is rife that a new man may be in the process of being groomed  for the honour, not without its quota of angoisse, of delivering the royal babies ...

Obituary: Lady Essendon- at Laguna Hills, California, aged 87,. Widow of the 2nd Lord Essendon (Brian Lewis. the racing driver) whom she married in 1938 and who died in 1978, and previously wife of Albert Duffill. She was Mary, daughter of G.W. Booker, of Los Angeles.

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Sunday February 8, 1987

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

5th Sunday after Epiphany

The pub with no beer. No pils left and the Old Brewery Bitter is down to 20 gallons, which we will need for Mr Copley's retirement party on Monday. Margaret M in at lunch. I have taken some stick about the beer. Old Wernher has a bloody cheek. He came here from Germany to bomb Coventry and then decided to stay, and has the nerve to criticise my pub. He'd now be pushing up the Russian daisies at Stalingrad if it wasn't for us British. Bastards. No staff tonight. But, first, at 3 this afternoon we went to Guiseley and to Sue's to plant a Christmas tree. Wind and rain. Sue looked enormous, and like poor Mum, broad across the beam. She saw Dr Glass yesterday ___________.We were back at the pub for 5:30.

Birthday fanfare for Reagan: by Hugh Davies in Washington: President Reagan celebrated his 76th birthday yesterday as the White House Marines band played him in to the party mood with the march 'seventy-six trombones'. 'Really, fellahs', said the smiling president, 'a simple chorus of Happy Birthday would have been sufficient.'

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Saturday February 7, 1987

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

35 years ago today our Sovereign Lady was proclaimed throughout her Kingdoms. She's fresh back from Kenya, now 61, beloved by all, and growing old. No side saddle at this years Trooping the Colour, an open carriage like the Queen Mother. Not a whiff of abdication. 

Temple Newsam.

Margaret R appeared at 12 with a supposed kidney infection. _____. She was almost sacked and then I thought back to Karin Ireland, and refrained. This afternoon at 3 Ally dropped me off at Temple Newsam with the children and for a few hours we romped amongst the damp rhododendrons. Samuel racing around the ancient trees. Sadly, the farm was closed. The light soon faded and we were left in darkness with only the spotlights from the roof of the house to illuminate the situation. Samuel thought it a real adventure. He chased me with a big stick. Clemmie, in her pink layers, beneath plastic sheeting, looking wide-eyed. Ally came back at 5:20. Home for tea. Worked tonight. Margaret R again. The bearded 'Our Billy' from Spofforth stood at the bar drinking vodka and looking glum. At 10 Dad came in with John, an impromptu visit. We went upstairs and watched Dame Edna Everage until 2am. Clemmie cried at the sight of strange men drinking beer in her home. A petty little thing she is.

In the news: Duchess gets her wings - The Duchess of York is expected to pilot her husband when she flies in to collect her private pilot's licence from Mr Christopher Tugendhat , chairman of the Civil Aviation Authority on Thursday. The ceremony will take place in the main hanger at Oxford Airport, Kidlington, after a trip from RAF Benson, Oxon. The duchess is the first woman member of the royal family to have learned to fly.

Liberace burial halted by Aids check - Liberace's burial at Forest Lawn, Hollywood, will have to wait because the coroner has rejected his doctor's death certificate in order to find out if he died of Aids. A post-mortem examination may have to be performed.

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Friday February 6, 1987

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

I spent the day in a state of some trepidation. For some reason I haven't ordered enough beer and my cellar looks positively empty. How awful. What will we do? Tonight was stone dead. Just Margaret M, Ally and I. We haven't heard anything of Gabrielle since our holiday and I do not expect ever to see the girl again. She is a Gemini.

Obituary: Lady Illingworth, who has died aged 86, was the indefatigable hostess at her historic Georgian house in Mayfair, 44 Grosvenor Square, the last privately owned house in the square which was disgracefully demolished in 1967 to make way for the new Britannia Hotel.... It was in the house's morning room in June, 1815, that the Cabinet, the guests at dinner of the 1st Earl of Harrowby, received the Duke of Wellington's victory despatch from Waterloo ....

The President of the United States is 76 today.

In the House of Lords: "Conditions in Letters Patent which prevent the eldest daughters from inheriting her father's hereditary peerage were a blatant discrimination against women, said Lord Diamond, chairman of the Social Democrat peers...

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Thursday February 5, 1987

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

Clemmie is so beautiful and female. She sits up - those lovely blue-grey eyes. So old fashioned.

Hectic. Can we afford £23 a week to educate Samuel privately? I hope so. We do not want agents of Kinnock getting their hands on our progeny. I could take anything from a child except left wing politics.

Margaret Rushton phoned in sick at 7. Or perhaps I should say her mother did. We were left 'staffless' on a pool night. The team from the George The Fourth came here with the usual camp followers. All Tetley women look like prostitutes, with flashed hair and bitten finger nails.

Ally says that one day we'll look back upon these hard-working times and laugh it off. God. It is such a wonderful experience all this.

From the Telegraph Peterborough column: Ouch! If proof were needed that nudists are a thick skinned lot, I learn that delegates attending a meeting of the Federation Naturiste Internationale  in Dublin this Spring  are to be issued with pin-fixed identification badges.

Sapper: Wylie.

Obituary: George Wylie, a sapper who saved St Paul's Cathedral during the 1939-45 War but sold his George Cross in a spirit of disillusionment  two years ago, has died in Bow. He was 77. Wylie was a member of a bomb disposal squad after a heavy night's bombing  on September 12, 1940, when he spotted a one-ton explosive 27ft below Dean's Yard. For three days despite a burning gas main and fears that the bomb which was sinking in the clay soil could explode, Wylie played a vital part in its removal. When it was taken to Hackney Marshes its deliberate explosion caused a 100ft crater. Wylie was one of the first three to be awarded the George Cross after its institution by King George VI ....

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Wednesday February 4, 1987

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

The usual frantic sort of day. Work, work, work, &c. Tonight Mags worked from 8 and I joined in Alan Batey's quiz and partnered poor Mary Knight. She is so embarrassed about her relationship to our cig machine bandit. We won and I gave the £5 winnings to Mary for something for Sarah-Jane, 2. 

We have a letter from St Edmund's Hall Prep School re an open day on March 4, prior to Sam's entry into school life on April 28. We were thinking it would be September. 

Frank and Bessie have gone to Tenerife, Islas Canarias for 2 weeks.

In the news: Liberace, the flamboyant American popular pianist who has died aged 67, was the world's single highest paid performer throughout the 1960s and 1970s.

Demolition for Royal lodge: A Victorian hunting lodge once considered by the Queen as a wedding gift to the Prince and Princess of Wales has been offered to the Army to dispose of in a demolition exercise. The 12-bedroom Delnadamph Lodge, adjoining Balmoral estate in the Highlands, has been empty since it was bought by the Queen for £1 million 10 years ago. The property came with 7,000 acres and several cottages.

Lady Rendlesham, who has died in her sixties, was (as Clare Rendlesham) the doyenne of London fashion retailing and in 1969 had the distinction of opening Rive Gauche, Yves St Laurent's first franchise in London. 

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Tuesday February 3, 1987

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

Ally is livid at LG's attitude. He has obviously phoned Bonnie & Clyde and discussed the diluted spirits, and it has caused irritation. Apparently, he needs this nauseating couple. He says that nothing can be proved at this stage anyway, and he laughed it off. We are out of favour most definitely. 

Today. Hungover. The draymen woke me at 7:30. I have been over doing it with the orders in recent weeks and and so they dropped only a little. No doubt we'll be dry by Saturday. Buggered. Maureen opened up until 8 and then just Ally and I did the remainder. Liz has asked for a reference.

From the Daily Telegraph, Peterborough column, I think: Hard to crack -- LAST week's Surrey Comet reported: 'A cement mixer was stolen from Birkenhead Road in Kingston on Tuesday night. A police spokesman said yesterday "there was nothing concrete to go on".

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Monday February 2, 1987

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

Ally spoke to Leslie Gledhill, who was very casual and 'laid back' about our diluted Bacardi. Annoying really. He was more concerned about how much they had taken over the counter. The reliefs did £2,700 last week. To the General Elliot at 6. The couple at the Raynville, Bramley, have been dismissed, but are refusing to quit the premises, hence this new venue for a meeting. It was a long meeting. We drank until 9 with the Darringtons, so very nice and normal - she especially so. Saw Ann Revell too, who was stunned beyond belief that 'Our Billy', as she calls him, is dating Margaret Rushton. We invited them back to the Moorhouse and surprisingly they agreed. Ann came for an hour or so, but the Darringtons were here until 12:30, going home in a taxi. Dearest Marjorie (our former barmaid) was babysitting.

From the Daily Telegraph: Safe hands? Passengers on a Qantas flight from Bombay to London the other day were greeted with this announcement from the flight steward: "I would give you the emergency safety instructions but I'm afraid the tape machine has broken down." He paused, and went on "never mind, I'll read them manually."

The Americans seem to have great difficulty in understanding Thomas a' Becket's place in history. Following my note about the tourist in Canterbury Cathedral who wanted to know where Becket had been shot, a former chorister assures me that he was approached some years ago by an American who asked: 'Say, can you show me the spot where Joe Beckett was knocked out?' Joe, as boxing fans will recall, was not a saint but a heavyweight champion of the 1920s. 

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Sunday February 1, 1987

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

4th Sunday after Epiphany

Thick frost. A rough night with Clemmie. I was up at 4:30 watching Damien: Omen II - a murder every 45 seconds or so. A 'full-English' and then over to the paper shop with Samuel, a precocious beast. Later, two Margarets worked and we escaped to Harewood House. The grounds were open today for the first time this year. St George's flag was fluttering above, and the lake was frozen solid and no amount of sticks and stones thrown in by Samuel would break the surface. Back at 4. Watched a chunk of 'Omen II' (tape) that I missed in the small hours. Dined on fish. Watched part II of 'Bertram's Hotel' at bedtime. Dear old Joan Hickson is an excellent Miss Jane Marple.

From the News of the World: Princess Margaret's son Viscount Linley is to marry his long-time lover Susannah Constantine. He has already been secretly shopping for an antique engagement ring with his sister Lady Sarah Armstrong-Jones.

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Saturday January 31, 1987

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ 

A trying day . A police constable (PC Bassey 1711) came at 8:30 as I was feeding the children. Ally having a laker. Simultaneously, a washing machine repair man appeared, and Samuel fell down and cut his lip. Oh, dear. The PC was told that Anthony Cheetham, 24, was responsible for the recent bout of cigarette machine thefts. The police constable was beaming. Obviously, the Cheetham guy has 'previous'. He wanted some concrete proof, an eye witness, &c. My only hope is old Ada Dickinson, a terrified rabbit and octogenarian. Later in the day after talking to Ada I phoned the police to be told that they were holding someone for my robberies in the cells. Such joy. Sue phoned. She's seeing Dr Glass on Thursday ____. Messy business. Went to a managers meeting at the General Elliot on Vicar Lane. Bev came to babysit. Awful night. Tony Cheetham the sole topic of conversation. To bed at 1:15.

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Friday January 30, 1987

 Moorhouse Inn, &c

It was 'one of those days'. We were still complaining about the relief couple when I noted that a Bacardi bottle on the optics looked odd so much so that I took it down and found  another bottle from the cellar to compare. My worst fears were realised. They have watered down the spirits. Not only are Golding & Jones squalid they are also thieving bastards. Ally phoned LG who wasn't in, and spoke to Mr Cawood, who showed some concern and said he will inform LG on Monday. What else in our tavern is let down with Co2? The mind boggles. Clementine was a picture today sitting in her pram and giggling, playing at peeping and chewing her toy keys. Baby has actually slept better. The screaming banshee of County Durham is now a blue-eyed slumbering cherub. Aly took Sam to a pet shop to buy seed for Reg (the budgie) and to a wallpaper shop (??) and to the local old people's home which he calls 'the pantomime' because he remembers the Christmas 'do' they laid on for the kids at nursery - "Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs". Tonight. I opened at 6pm. Oh, and yet another cigarette machine 'vanished' last week, and Tony Cheetham has been openly selling cigs in the Junction this very afternoon. I phoned the police today and the policeman involved will contact me tomorrow. I want 'Cheesy' behind bars. He is of course the father of Mary Knight's granddaughter. Anyway, at 8 in walked 'Cheesy' and I immediately clotched him. He went away threatening to raise the establishment to the ground calling me a 'dick head' as he left. Then, Gabrielle's French mother phoned to say the girl had just fainted and would be unable to work tonight. Just Mags in. Ally came down looking lovely. And so a pleasant time.

From the Daily Telegraph: Maj Hugh Charles Lyttelton Lindsay, 9th/12th Royal Lancers, is engaged to Sarah Patricia Brennan.

Eva, Countess of Rosebery, who has died aged 94, was the key figure in the founding of the Edinburgh International Festival after the 1939-45 War ... &c.

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Thursday January 29, 1987

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

A historic day. Michael Lawrence, dear reader, went to a blood transfusion centre and did give up - nay sacrifice - a pint of his precious blood - so that others might live. Dad will be so chuffed. He's a gold medallist having donated blood for 30 years. It was a day of slagging off the Golding and Jones couple. Margaret Rushton was in tears at their behaviour. The woman was knocking back the brandy and Babychams before 11 o'clock. Gabrielle reports that the intoxicated couple were swearing, fighting and beating the hell out of each other one night. Taking holidays in this business are simply not worth it. Our flat is very tacky today. None of the doors fit in their casings. The walls are awash and stained with beer. Roy Barnes warned me that she (the relief) would be hitting the bottle. Just Ally and I tonight. Alan had a quiz game.

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Wednesday January 28, 1987

 Waltergarth, Horton-in-Ribblesdale

We got up at 6:30 and had a cooked breakfast with Dad, who has this off to a fine art. Clemmie ate crusts of brown bread with relish. I had a very 'thick' head and slumped over the table. I always return from holiday looking half dead. We left at 8. Dad is going to the dentist at Rawdon and then on to Cambridge to his brother John and Sheila's. He has drawn to his brothers and sister and to our detriment. It's not jealousy by any means, but I think that in his grief he has returned to his childhood affections, those that are pre-Nora. I suppose this is normal. We drove back to Leeds. Ally the only conscious occupant of the car. Back to the Moorhouse at 9:30. Our departing stock take was £148 up. Phew. Ronnie didn't come until 10:45. The relief managers Golding & Jones have a £124 deficit. They were filthy pigs. The flat is very shabby. The catering kitchen absolutely filthy, covered in grease and fungus. Rotting veg, &c. Their bed was still made up. This is unprecedented. Even Ron Brook stripped the beds of dirty linen. Cig ends everywhere. The house plants dead. The washing machine damaged. No doors now close properly. Filthy cloths everywhere. How disgusting. Ally is livid and went on about them all day. The cash was wrong and fiddles abound. Watered down orange juice &c. The optics had been tampered with. Funny to be back, really. Tom Kennedy and Pat Johnson died last week. Margaret Rushton has ducked out of work a few times. Margaret M says she didn't see 'eye to eye' with 'Bonnie' Jones. Jack Collett told me that barmaid Gabrielle wants to quit. Samuel was hysterical al day. No nursery. Clemmie screamed all day too, and did so until 11:45pm/ I had a haircut at 4pm.

Dead: Sir Ian Auld Mactaggart, Bt, on January 27. 

From the Telegraph: "That plaintive publication Singles, offers this month the following catch: "Sagittarian, 46, divorced, fleeced, limp [walks with], failing eyesight, been doctored, shares Quasimodo's tailor, bitter, temporary mysogonist, recently mugged, answers to the name Lucky. Requires pleasant , slim lady, 35-40, to restore faith in women ... Sense of humour and bike essential."

Letter to the Editor: Question of Degree

Sir- Can anyone explain why the media use Centigrade for temperatures in the winter [still below zero etc] and Fahrenheit in the summer [80 degrees - phew what a scorcher!] - Robert Salter, Kenley, Surrey.

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Tuesday January 27, 1987

 Bradley Burn, Co Durham

Clemmie and Teddy.

We packed and left Bradley Burn at 12. Our electricity bill was £23 which Mrs Stephenson was over the top, but we thought reasonable. We said goodbye to the cat that has the continuing hanging out tongue. Aids, perhaps? We drove via Barnard Castle to Richmond, Aysgarth, Hawes and to Horton-in-Ribblesdale for 3pm. Dad was pottering around cooking a meal with the radio blasting at full throttle. He is so eccentric these days. He infuriated Ally and I and I was 'on edge' for some reason. We hear of Arnold's funeral. A packed crem. Someone stood up and read "If" by Rudyard Kipling. Dad weeps at this poem at the best of times. Arnold kept a journal and it revealed that only a few days before his demise he wrote that when he eventually collapsed that no 'do gooder' would resuscitate him. He wanted to go, I think. This death has hit Dad very badly. We ate and then put the children to bed. Samuel proud in a large double bed in his own room. We sat watching 'Goldfinger' drinking the remnants of our whisky. We bought Dad underwear for Christmas and he had to bugger around swapping the items at Debenham's. He disappeared into his room and then emerged clad in the garments to give us a fashion display. Ally averted her eyes. We went to our beds at 10:30. Clemmie was a piglet and refused to sleep. She is sitting up now, by the way.

News from the Daily Telegraph: The Duke of Kent yesterday took the oath of allegiance in the Lords to enable him to be the Duke of York's sponsor when he is introduced in the House.

Mr Younger, Defence Secretary, confirmed to MPs last night that he had set up an inquiry into the leaking of a letter from Prince Philip to the Commandant-General of the Royal Marines about Prince Edward's resignation from the Corps.

The Marquess of Huntly, who has died aged 78, was premier Marquess of Scotland and did homage on behalf of the marquesses at the Coronation of King George VI in 1937.

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Monday January 26, 1987

 Kilmacolm to Bradley Burn

We went back to Durham where Samuel requested fish and chips in newspaper by the river. He loved the experience and so did I. Clemmie had a mad morning in her pram and so our visit was as pleasurable as the one on Tuesday. Home via a car wash at Crook - Sam's face was a picture. Dined on trout (me) and steak (Ally) tonight, but Clemmie wailed throughout. The joys of parenthood. Candlelit dinners are not what they were. 

Society engagements: The Earl of Dundonald and Beatrice Russo, and the Earl of Macduff and Caroline Bunting.  In the Daily Telegraph we are told that "two million Britons could be dead or dying from Aids by the turn of the century, according to a report by Dr Martin Schweiger, a community physician working in Leeds". 

Cannon Law: overheard the other day in Canterbury Cathedral: an American tourist making enthusiastic inquiries about the cathedral's history. "And where exactly," he asked, "was Thomas a' Becket shot?"

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Sunday January 25, 1987

 Kilmacolm

3rd Sunday after Epiphany

Lynn is very flippant about Aids. "Oh, it's no concern of mine." She tore up the government leaflet on the disease without reading it, for instance. I do not subscribed to this. In ten years time she will have two teenage daughters, juices flowing, and open to danger. It's no joke. We went to the park in Kilmacolm. Not like Scotland in the Stranraer sense, more like Harrogate. David has selected a good spot for his new erection, surrounded by mature Scots pines. However, a council estate looms at the rear. "I suppose they have to live somewhere", said Lynn, in a Marie Antoinette sort of way. She isn't a snob in the way that I am. She doesn't approve of private education, for instance. "All that gingham", she sniffed. We bid our farewells and left at 1pm. A long journey. Samuel wet his pants and walked around Alston, legs akimbo, in obvious discomfort. Back to the cottage for 5 o'clock after several stops for milk, papers, &c. Ally totally exhausted took to her bed at 8:30 after "At Bertram's Hotel" part 1 by A. Christie (Dame). I lingered with the Sunday mags and a drink. Clemmie did her 'Sarah Bernhardt routine' well into the small hours.

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Saturday January 24, 1987

 Kilmacolm

with Sam at Largs.

The garlic bread continues. Tea in bed - a luxury. Joined by Frances and Katie - the latter with china blue eyes like my dead mum. Went downstairs to a 'full-English'. Ally and I were laughing amidst the bedding at the way Lynn was talking to David, who had alighted into the bathroom shower at peak bathroom time, 9am. "You're a joke, David", she ejaculated. It was reassuring for Ally, who said: "See. I am not the only one to nag". The vacuum cleaner was humming before I climbed out of bed. 'Houseproudaphilia'. To Largs. Fog. Looked at Tay sites. Fed large, ugly swans. Discussed condoms. Had lasagne. Sitting room session this evening. Whisky bottle. TV. Whisky. Dame Edna Everage's 1984 TV chat show. More condom talk.

Daily Telegraph obit: "Dame Ann Parker Bowles, who has died aged 68, was Chief Commissioner of the Girl Guides from 1966 to 1975 and ably led the movement through the only significant changes since its foundation. She received the Silver Fish, the highest award, in 1969."

Daily Telegraph: "From the Bournemouth Evening Echo. "A blaze ripped through a Bournemouth store early today causing damage estimated at £10,000. The cause of the fire, at Harpers, Westover Road, is still being investigated ... a clairvoyant at the store George Lucas, said he did not predict the blaze because 'Sunday's are my day off.'"

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Friday January 23, 1987

 Granary Cottage, Bradley Burn

Kilmacolm.

Spent the morning preparing to travel to Scotland. Packing the car took Ally hours. Of course, I am not allowed to touch any of the packing. Ally is very fastidious about the positioning of things in the car boot. We left at 12. (David B's detailed map having arrived today by post). We crossed to Carlisle and then up the motorway to Glasgow and on to Kilmacolm, where Lynn and Dave have lived since November 26, 1986. David, an architect with Tay Homes, has now 'metamorphisised' into a company director of Tay Homes (Scotland). They staying only temporarily in a large but cowboy erected converted house on the Tay Homes estate within view of the site where they are to build David a large detached house of his own design. What luck, eh? They look affluent. Lynn has a short 'Sheena Easton' haircut and wears leather gear.________. The children are lovely. Thomas is a bundle of trouble. Samuel, yet again, is ecstatic. We ate shepherd's pie. Lynn has discovered garlic bread. David came in at 6 and when all the children were bedded we sat and watched TV. 'Papillon (1973). We had such a good discussion. The first in years. Guiseley was obviously too close.

A Daily Telegraph obit for Sir Graeme Finlay 'the distinguished jurist who has died aged 69, may have the melancholy distinction of being the last person ever to be created a baronet.'

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