Thursday October 4, 1979

_. Up at 8 to find myself in bed in Bradford. Ally is attending a course at Minever House on East Parade in Leeds and so she took me to town in the spitfire. Chaotic traffic. Didn't reach the YP until 9:30. Sarah says: "And where do you think you spent the night?" She'd phoned home to be told by mother that I hadn't been seen since yesterday afternoon.

At 1 o'clock I went to meet Ally on East Parade. She has a £4 parking ticket. Traffic wardens are really the lowest form of life. On to Club Street where a man in a van has arrived from Winchester with furniture including the dreaded piano. Taking in the furniture was a doddle, but the piano not so easy. I kept looking over at the Victorian monstrosity and wincing. We reached deadlock on the doorstep and had it not been for a passing telephone engineer we would never have got it in the house. We also struggled taking a double bed upstairs. We had one drink in the pub across the road before heading back to Pine Tops for 5:30pm.

Maria and the children came to see Mama. Catherine was wonderful, but JPH ill and pale.

Out at 6:30 to Bradford where we joined Sarah and Richard [Burke]  at the Alhambra to see Derek Jacobi in 'Hamlet', by Mr Shakespeare. An incredible, gripping performance which held me ecstatic for over three hours. Afterwards we went into the Vaults pub next to the theatre and found Derek Jacobi and Brenda Bruce [who played Queen Gertrude] propping up the bar.

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Wednesday October 3, 1979

_.Fog. Old Callaghan has suffered a trauma at the Labour party conference. It looks as though Wedgwood Benn will be leader of the mob within the next few weeks. As far as I'm concerned I'll be thrilled to see Benn at the helm because who in God's name will vote Labour in a future general election with that 'fiend' in charge of the party?

Ally and I had a night out tonight because her agenda for the next few days is crowded. First to the Shoulder of Mutton, then the White Cross, then the Drop, and finally Oakwood Hall. The DJ had a bit more about him than the usual stiff. I have decided hereon to drink pils lager, no draught ale. We left at 2:30am. To Club Street.

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Saturday September 29, 1979

_. Sunny, bright morn. Up at 10 to throw back the curtains and see Michael [next door] splashing white paint over his house. His half of the building is now glowing white and now makes Pine Tops look shoddy, grubby and dismal. Mummy will throw a fit when she sees his handy work.

I phoned Ridgeway to speak to John. Molly answered the phone and says 'he arrived last night looking big, fit, strong and healthy, Mike, and Oh, have you heard the news about poor John Phillips?" I say 'no' and she told me the gruesome news that poor Carole's dad died last Tuesday following a fall from a ladder at home. Fiddling with a tv aerial on his roof, he missed a step and plummeted to the ground bashing his head on an ornamental wall. The doc, Molly says, reassured the family that had he lived he would have been a cabbage. He was a cabbage long before the fall, I'm sorry to say. Ghastly news indeed. Carole must be desolate. They had only recently bought the fish and chip shop on Victoria Road.

When I eventually speak to John he says very little, and that he cannot afford to go out tonight. This is a let down. I had been looking forward to some kind of belated birthday celebration.

Peter bought a car today. An Escort 1600 sports which cost him £1,300. Both he and Susan will now emerge from the depression that has hung over them since he sold the old car a month ago. People become so dependent on motor cars don't they? The mention of public transport is often the most offensive thing one can say to a motorist.

Ally and I had a drink at the Crown in Yeadon this afternoon then went out with Sue and Pete in the new car to the White Cross for a celebratory guzzle. Our adventure took us on to the Fox & Hounds, Hare & Hounds and back to the White Cross to join Gus, Chippy, Debbie, Brian Johnson , Howard Dove, and various others. A loud, beery evening. Chris Ratcliffe [now bearded] and Peter M came in.

Back to Pine Tops. Gus and John Sumpton had picked up a couple of tarts. They all smoked pot, including Susan. I cannot stand the stuff and took no part in the revelry. They all left at 2 and I gave Sue a piece of my mind, the big brother sort of stuff. Peter was silly about it and we all parted on a bad note.

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Friday September 28, 1979

_. Thoroughly exhausted and dead to the world all day. Jim passed me furtive glances on our journey to Leeds. I think he suspects I have an alcohol problem.

Sarah is away again. These attacks of illness are becoming far too frequent. She's become so dull since taking up with Richard Burke.

Ally came over at 8 and after stocking up with a couple of bottles from the off-license we settled down and watched Warren Beatty and Faye Dunaway in 'Bonnie and Clyde'. It's a good film and I've seen it on numerous occasions. The conversation is horribly crude when we get together with Sue & Pete. They can be quite foul. It's only Ally who clings on to her decency.

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Thursday September 27, 1979

_. Phoned Ally when I arrived home from work at 5:30. She called me 'a miserable boy'. Most incorrect. I just laughed it off and took a long bath. I then grilled six fish fingers and drizzled them with prawn cocktail sauce and put Blondie on the record player. Ally arrived whilst Debbie Harry was in full throttle.

Off we went to Lynn and Dave's. L was dressed to kill. Dave looked dull and washed out. I said: "Oh it's going to one of those sort of nights". On to the Rose & Crown, then Oakwood Hall. Dave refused to dance and stood in a glum posture looking down his nose at 'the youngsters'. Ally remarked that it must be married life taking effect, but you know how cynical she is about that Holy estate. Lynne and Dave left before us.

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Wednesday September 26, 1979

_. Pisses down all day. Autumn is upon us. Sod it. Ally and I went to the cinema at Yeadon this evening. Our very first visit to such a place of entertainment. Saw 'Blazing Saddles' and Monty Python's 'Holy Grail'. I have seen the Monty Python epic three times now. My first viewing was with the late Gillian Upton in 1975. The Mel Brooks comedy is excellent but not half as good as 'High Anxiety'. Home in the rain at 10:30. Ally tells me we are going out with Lynn & Dave tomorrow.

We had our first squabble.

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Saturday September 22, 1979

_. Home to Guiseley at 10am, then on to Stockport in the Triumph Spitfire with the top down. We had some peculiar looks from some of the motorists on the windswept M62.

We joined Dave G for a typical Stockport drinking session, but he wasn't on form, complaining of 'a chill'. At 3 we went to buy eggs and bacon for tomorrow's breakfast and ate half a pound of cheese in the street. Back at the Hollywood [pub] we watched tv and slept until almost 8pm. We were all lethargic. Dave took us to the Georgian restaurant in Stockport where we had T-bone steaks. The energy burned in attacking the food just about finished me off, and back at the Hollywood I was shamefully reduced to drinking shandy. I could barely hold the bloody glass.

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