Friday February 28, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

Will Prince Andrew wed Fergie? She is of good stock, a brilliant pedigree in fact but her age is against her. 26 leaves her a bit long in the tooth. She has a colourful past and doesn't have the virgin image of Lady Diana Spencer. A couple of nameless EP reporters called in and gasped - they didn't know I was here. When I told them that Fergie has some Leeds ancestry the note books came out and they took down my genealogical information, and a gleam of interest was aroused. They will contact me when an announcement is made.

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Thursday February 27, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

Christopher Paul (Nason) is 4 today. We went over to Guiseley at 1:30 to Thorpe Lane via the cemetery where Mum's grave looked desolate. Dead flowers from January, and the water in the bowl a solid block. Ally and Samuel stayed in the car. We didn't want mud on the boys party clothes. We went on to Sue's where she looked worn out and short tempered, full of cold and complaining of a constant headache. The children were all in a queer mood and uncommunicative. Dad was quiet too. He went to collect Frances from school. She came in looking very grown up in her grey uniform. Samuel and Ben managed to wreck the record player whilst Rod Stewart was in full swing. A gloomy party really. I had a few glasses of wine and asked Dad if he would like to be a casual barman on his visits to the Moorhouse. He says he will have a go. The poor man is in a highly emotional state. He almost broke down when I told him we had been to see Mum. He bleakly said: "I haven't been for some time." We shouldn't consider it a duty to go and should only do so when we feel it's right. It eases the pain to talk to a stone. It's good to have a place where people can go. Lynn was bright. Janette and Charlotte boycotted the party.

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Wednesday February 26, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

The first round of the L. Gledhill Quiz extravaganza when Don Whitfield (Brown Hare, Harehills) and Co. came here. A good turn out. Ally was the quiz master, and we lost by 11 points. A mixed bag of questions. One of their team won 'Sale of the Century' in 1979. Don loved it and played all the ghastly country and western records on the juke box. Rob Piper with one of his barmaids and her husband came in. A queer strangely naive chap. We were busy and all in all it was a good night. No sign of LG. It was interesting to see that Rob had managed to get a by through to the second round. He is LG's pet. Upstairs we watched 'Dynasty' - no, 'The Colbys'.

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Tuesday February 25, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

The video cometh at about 12 o'clock. Not happy with the picture by any means. Ally looked at me as if to say: "I told you so." We recorded Postman Pat for Samuel which he loved and "I, Claudius" which I watched at bedtime. Derek Jacobi. What an excellent actor he is. Haven't I seen him in something at the Bradford Alhambra?

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Monday February 24, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

Full Moon

My phone call to Horton today was distressing. Poor Dad was so distant and vague and uncaring. He seemed totally disinterested. He must be so depressed. 

We have re-started the pool knock-out competitions. Nothing spectacular. Clive won. 

The video player is coming tomorrow. Yippee. After all the years of waiting. 

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Sunday February 23, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

2nd Sunday in Lent

John & Sheila.

My Uncle John phoned from Cambridge wanting to talk to Dad. He and Sheila are over here from the Canaries for five weeks 'enjoying the cold'. He wants to go to Horton on Saturday when Arnold and Dot are supposedly going. I phoned Dad and he seemed a little glum. What can we do to alleviate his misery? He has applied for the position of North Yorkshire road safety officer and has completed an application form. Good luck to him. He cannot live on his police pension and the erratic B & B intake. His car is a rust heap, and he needs a purpose in life. 

Anyway, regarding this video player. We went to Vallance's yesterday where they can provide interest free credit. We snapped up a Fisher Sanyo appliance for £430 or so, paying about £8 a week. I have wanted one for ages.

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Saturday February 22, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

Ian and Jacq.

Bright and sunny. At 12 Jacq and Ian came in and we sat upstairs discussing the coming marriage. They are  having the usual pre-wedding nerves and some family squabbles. ___________. Ian's stag night is on March 20, and I must go. The wedding reception is taking place at the Mercury Ladbroke Hotel in Garforth. Jacq looked very well. They left at 2. To Vallance's where we saw a video player and yes - we bought it! (See tomorrow). We half expected to see John and Janette but they didn't appear. We both agree that a wedding 'do' here will be too much for Ally. Like Hell, in fact. Chris and Liz worked tonight. I went down for a drink.

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Friday February 21, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds, LS11 5NQ

Margaret.

Our recent holiday must have been more beneficial for the pub than we ever thought it would because a more relaxed, warm, and homely atmosphere has descended upon the Moorhouse this week. Ally and I like young lovers, laughter abounding, &c. Such pleasantness. A busy night. Just Margaret and I. Chris was supposed to be working but said he now has a prior engagement, but then he actually came here into the tap room at 8 o'clock slobbering all over Vicky Pearson. I fumed at this. Vicky will eat Chris for breakfast. She has had more prick than a second hand dart board. If the lad continues to refuse to work Fridays he will get the chop. Totally out of order him coming in here as a customer. Later upstairs I read Robert Graves.

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Thursday February 20, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds, LS11 5NQ

Some of the Fleet Street organs thought that yesterday would see Prince Andrew's engagement to Sarah Ferguson. The royal family don't do things like that. I gave Dad a run down on Miss F's family. LG called in at 12:30 and was affable. Ally went over to her clinic in Bradford at 1pm taking in Linfood, &c. Dad and I ate an enormous lunch of steak & kidney pie at 3pm, and then he went off to Guiseley to see Susie. He cannot dwell anywhere or on anything for long and he left in a vague flurry, almost on automatic pilot. I find it hard to describe his demeanour. Ally was back at 4pm in fine form. The midwife is pleased with her progress. She is 19 weeks exactly. Well, yesterday she was. Ally is so very content with the Bradford set-up. 

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Wednesday February 19, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

Club Street.

Cold and ice. Lieutenant the Prince Andrew, RN, is 26. My fourth driving test at Harehills at 9am. A bloody disaster. Mucked up at a few junctions and made myself a laughing stock at a roundabout . My examiner shit himself at some traffic lights. Such a foolish boy. Back home for 10am. Dad walked over to Morrison's with Samuel and when they toddled back over the ice and saw the 'L' plates still in position he asked no further questions. At 4 we all went to Club Street. Dad helped me rack sone wine. It was like vinegar. Ugh. Ally watched the tv series The Colbys. Samuel slept in our bed. Dad and I went out to the Oddfellows, which I didn't like, and then to the Coach House, a Whitbread establishment. Took fish and chips home for us. Ally had a prawn curry. Returned to the Moorhouse at 11:30. An exhausting sort of day. I am a Reginald Molehusband.

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Tuesday February 18, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

Dad phoned from Guiseley this afternoon and invited himself over here for a few days. We love to see him. I am taking my driving test tomorrow and so the long held secret will be discovered at the eleventh hour. We had tea off the Minton china when Dad came at 4:30. Samuel had been 'glued' to 'Postman Pat'. We stood at the window for ages waiting for Dad's chugging, ailing vehicle. I went down at 5:30. We had no staff tonight. Stone dead. Ally and Dad came down at 8 and sat chatting. He says that Janette now says the wedding is to take place at Bradford Register Office in June or July followed by a reception for 40 people here. Ally paled at this. She will of course be nine months pregnant by then. Dad added that John and Janette are coming here soon to discuss the finer details and that we are not to say that he has 'leaked' the news to us. Maria gave birth to a daughter, her fourth child, recently. JPH remains the only son. We went up at 11:30 and I told Dad of my test. He thinks I am weird for not saying anything before. For once he has had a complete week at Waltergarth. The poor man hates solitude.

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Monday February 17, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

Washington's Birthday Observance

Lynn came here this afternoon bubbling away with the children and stayed for tea. The girls eat like little pigs. Mounds of biscuits and chocolates were consumed. It was all too much for Samuel who sat goggle-eyed at the visit. Tantrums. We put it down to excitement. Poor Lynn was wearing Mum's engagement ring and confessed to great feelings of morbidity and gloom. She has terrible nightmares and thinks that she will go the same way. Let's face it. Cancer or heart attacks dominate in taking the population down and so one of the family is going to be struck down in a similar way. But why be in fear of it?

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Sunday February 16, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

1st Sunday in Lent

I have contracted another soddin' cold. Probably from Samuel. My lips are cracked and I bleed when I smile. Downstairs bearded Brian asked me about Kaiser Wilhelm II and what became of him. I told him that the old Emperor had died in Holland (Dorn) in 1941, and that his grandson had married Lady Honor Guinness, and that his great-granddaughter Antonia von Preussen was the wife of a future Duke of Wellington. Yawn, gasp.

The pub is extraordinarily quiet this afternoon and bliss to go upstairs at 2:30 to watch 'Eastenders'. I sat with a large cherry brandy, purely for medicinal purposes. Oozing from various facial outlets. Mucus, &c. Feet up. Samuel is very good at times like this. Playing doctors and hospitals and practicing mechanics at the rear of his Postman Pat car. Quite a chatterbox. Large dark eyes like his mum. I'd love a dozen like him. Ally won't discuss boy names, and no doubt has a secret weapon up her sleeve. Wayne, or Dean, or something. 

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Saturday February 15, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

It would be a tragedy to lose the prime minister. She is the only person in whom I can place my confidence and she does deserve a third term. Another crack at the whip. If the Tories ditch her before the next general election I will refuse to vote and remain at home on polling day and read Dickens.

Andrew is 22. 

The pub was deathly quiet for three reasons. 

1). The weather

2). Barry McGuigan is fighting on the telly

3). The punters may think the Kennedys are still here

Bernie: wellingtons.

Tonight: Punters gathered around the TV in the tap room. Even Frank and Bernie and other lounge inhabitants, to watch the fight. I've never been one for boxing but found it entertaining. I stood for the national anthems and then dimmed the pub lighting for effect. It was like the Odeon cinema. Bernie was wearing her wellington boots. Barry McGuigan won in 13 rounds. His opponent was one of those south American types. 

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Friday February 14, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

Valentine's Day

Very cold morn. Bradford always is cold though. It could be tropical in Leeds. St. Valentine. Dear old Reg Scott, on his last legs, is celebrating his birthday, as is Muriel Rawnsley. What a prodigious memory I have. We were back at the Moorhouse for 10. Stock take with Rob Young. He gave the Kennedys a £17 deficit. They have passed a quiet, uneventful week. Mrs Kennedy it seems wore the same bottle-green flying suit every afternoon and night. She was unpopular with the customers. They were snatching glasses from the customers and ejecting them into the street at 10:45 every night. 

LG called in on them last Tuesday for no particular reason. We are having a quiz here on February 26 v. the Brown Hare at Harehills. I have a note informing me that I have a driving test next Wednesday at 9am. 

At 4:50 we were at the doctors. Samuel has a cold again. We saw Dr Danks, who made him giggle. 

Tonight Marlene and Frank came in at 9:30. Apparently, Mark is working for Telecom, only a stones throw away. He came in at 10 o'clock for half an hour or so. They haven't been here since May. The pub was busy. Obviously, all the customers are coming back in to see me.

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Thursday February 13, 1986

 Chillandham Cross, Itchen Abbas SO21 1AS

Ally and Bessie just don't get on at all. For a few days together they are OK but a week is far too much. They almost came to blows today, and it was very snappy over breakfast. Bessie even told me to stop bashing her china around. I am usually exempt from B's attacks. Ally didn't speak all day because she didn't want to put her foot in it.

Frank gets out of bed at a ridiculously early hour every morning and wakes Samuel in the process, and so we feel that this holiday has been more tiring than life at the Moorhouse. We were up at 8am and sat watching a video of 'Quo Vadis?' from last night. It's in three segments.. Ally was in the bath and then packed and didn't appear until 11 or so. Samuel went to bed for an hour and we left at 1 o'clock. 

Back at Club Street and peace. We really should have come here for a week instead of traipsing off south. Winchester has had it. It's time they came up here to see us instead. We watched the end of 'Quo Vadis?' and then all slept together in the big bed. Very cold here. Snow etc.

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Wednesday February 12, 1986

 Chillandham Cross, Itchen Abbas SO21 1AH

Ash Wednesday

Breakfast was awful. The atmosphere very bad. Ally and Bessie just rub each other up the wrong way. We went out to Winchester when Samuel had his afternoon nap. We went to a travel agent and Ally borrowed a video of the island of Lesbos where, for some reason, she would like to holiday. I have always imagined Lesbos to be crowded with butch ladies in deer stalkers, plus fours and monocles. Those ghastly feminist types with more beard growth than George Michael. In fact the island seems peaceful and suitable for small babies. We would like a foreign holiday in May or June '87 when baby will be 9 or 10 months old. ______. We went to the Old Vine to see Graham and his brother-in-law Michael Lynn, who works for the Hampshire Chronicle. Graham is en route to Leeds, would you believe, where he is to meet the adonis Anthony Browne, who makes Oscar Wilde look like a brickie. 

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Tuesday February 11, 1986

 Chillandham Cross, Itchen Abbas SO21 1AS

Shrove Tuesday

Pancake Day on Sea. We left early and went to Bournemouth, but had a drive through chunks of the New Forest and ended up in Lymington where we had an awful lunch in a pub near the harbour. Thick, jellified packet soup at 90p a squirt. Samuel sat at the table and was very good despite the harrowing sight of the scruffy, tattooed chef clumping around the joint. Most disappointing, though Lymington is very picturesque. All the buildings leaning in that 1685 fashion. Back at Ch.Cross Bessie just back from 'Inner Wheel' proceeded to make 48m phone calls between 5:45 and 10:30. Ally went to bed in a collapsed state and so did Samuel. I sat, feet up, with a large Scotch watching TV. Michael Caine in 'Get Carter'.

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Monday February 10, 1986

 Chillandham Cross, Itchen Abbas SO21 1AS

We went to Winchester and whilst Ally and Samuel went to the shops I escaped to the reference library to look at Sarah Ferguson's pedigree. Bliss. A 1985 Debrett's. Well, here goes. Sarah Ferguson was born October 15, 1959, the second daughter of Major Ronald Ivor Ferguson (born Oct 10, 1931), and of Susan Mary his wife (born 1937), daughter of Fitzherbert Wright, Esq, and the Hon Julia Doreen Wingfield (born 1904). We'll look at the paternal side first. Ronald Ferguson is the son of Colonel Andrew Henry Ferguson (1899-1966), and Marian Louisa, his wife (born June, 1908), the eldest daughter of Lord Herbert Andrew Montagu Douglas Scott, fifth son of the 6th Duke of Buccleuch and Queensberry. Thus, Marian M D S is a first cousin of Princess Alice, Duchess of Gloucester. A generation back we have Algernon Francis Holford Ferguson (1867-1943), who married the Hon Margaret Brand (died 1948), daughter of the 2nd Viscount Hampden (1841-1906), who married Susan Henrietta Cavendish, granddaughter of the Duke of Devonshire. Further back up the tree we have Thomas Ferguson (1795-1859), who married Emma Benyon, of New Grange Hall, Leeds. Sarah's maternal branch is just as illustrious. Her mother is a granddaughter maternally of the 8th Viscount Powerscourt, KP, MVO (1880-1947), by his wife Sybil Pleydell-Bouverie (See Radnor E). The 7th Viscount Powerscourt married Lady Julia Coke, daughter of the 2nd Earl of Leicester. The 6th Viscount P married Lady Elizabeth Jocelyn, daughter of the Earl of Roden. Fitzherbert Wright is descended from the Earls of Romney and the Fitzherbert baronets. Sorry about all this, but it makes me feel much better now I've studied Sarah's pedigree. She and Prince Andrew are probably closely related through the Dukes of Devonshire (the Queen Mum is of Cavendish ancestry). Watch this space.

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Sunday February 9, 1986

 Chillandham Cross, Itchen Abbas S021 1AS

Quinquagesima

New Moon

Very cold. We went after breakfast to Coleford in Frank's disappointing new vehicle. The Merc has been replaced by one of those clones. Very sad. We couldn't understand Frank's driving. He went all over Gloucestershire and Wales to get to Graham's. Poor Ally was green in the back of the car. She's a rotten passenger. Needless to say, Samuel and I slumbered. At Graham's it was the usual Fred Karno's Circus. All the children in a heap on top of the dog. We had soup and sandwiches and went out with a sledge. Yes, all dressed like Scott's Expedition 1912. Or was it 1911? The Titanic was 1912. We left at 5. Graham was grumpy because he wanted to go to the pub. We got back for 7pm. Watched "Spitting Images". Bed after a vast Edwardian-style supper.

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