Friday August 10, 1979

_. Gruesome headache. Did very little all morning and sat at my desk feeling sick and shattered. Kathleen is away, at Auntie Mary's funeral, which is convenient. I sat at my desk, with my feet up blatantly reading volume 2 of Churchill's 'History of the English Speaking Peoples' and praising God that Mrs Mary McHale had chosen this day to be reunited with her dear husband Tom. R.I.P.

To lunch with Sarah and Eileen to Da Mario's for pizzas. Shared a table with a couple of wasteful creatures who poked and prodded at their food with a total lack of interest. I felt nauseous. Leaving the restaurant we bumped into Jacq at a bus stop. ___________.

This evening Ally and I decided upon a pub crawl. We did the Hare and Hounds [I spoke to Judith], the White Cross, the Shoulder of Mutton, the Commercial [Annie and Ron Lindley have gone taking all with them]. Home at 10:50 to watch the Marx Brothers in 'Duck Soup' - excellent. Bed at 1:20.

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Thursday August 9, 1979

_. Just Ally and I to the Cow and Calf and later Oakwood Hall. ________. We did not go out until after 9pm but made up for it in the bar. She drank like a large fish. I overheard a girl in the bar confide in a friend that my Hawaiian-style shirt resembled 'two dishcloths stitched together'.

At Oakwood we continued down our destructive path towards vagrancy and destitution drinking Pernod and cider in obnoxious proportions. We behaved like savages on the dance floor. Groping, kissing, etc. It resembled a scene from a 1942 film where the young army captain is taking leave of his bride after two days leave to go get himself shot in the Balkans. I was Tyrone Power.

Coffee and sandwiches at 3:30am.

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Wednesday August 8, 1979

_. Margaret and Jim came here this evening instead of the traditional Thursday because they are venturing to Redcar tomorrow. They do not enthuse about the prospects of a wet day at the races. I bet they end up at the White Cross at lunch time.

I have neglected my royal deliberations recently. What with the Queen's victorious visit to Zambia and the escapades of the Prince of Wales and Prince Andrew with the Guinness sisters I have had ample opportunity to lecture, but have held back. You must forgive this boring patch.

I retired to bed at 12 full to bursting with pork pies and salad sandwiches. I will resemble Orson Welles before long.

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Tuesday August 7, 1979

_. People are telling me I'm putting on weight. I'm paying now for being a ten stone weakling for my first quarter of a century. Is 12st excessive for a 6ft 25 year old? On a happier note a trainee journalist approached me today and mistook me for a classmate. The pimply 19 year-old youth thought I was a teenager.

Took a bath. Early to bed.

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Monday August 6, 1979

_. Bank Holiday in Scotland & Irish Republic

A wet, hideous day. Home at five to see Hilda and Tony who came over to collect Ruby and Arthur. Maria and the children come here too. She misses John. The Gadsbys make off with the Pearces to Pudsey. Ruby cannot be long for this world.

JPH stayed to tea and ate roast beef, chips, salad, and mounds of chocolate cake. At 7 I carried the monster home to Ridgeway so that he could talk to his Papa - who phoned just as we arrived.

Molly went on for what seemed like ages on the pros and cons of buying a swing for the garden. I sipped my ale peacefully, trying not to glaze over.

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Sunday August 5, 1979

_. 8th Sunday after Trinity

Never have I felt so diabolical. I regained consciousness at 11am. Poor Ally was next to me shrouded in sheets and resembled the tomb of Princess Charlotte of Wales in St George's Chapel, Windsor.

Later we took presents to Karen & Steve's house, but we didn't stay long. Came home in the Spitfire with roof down to blow away the cobwebs. We collapsed onto the sofa listening to Tchaikovsky's 'Romeo & Juliet' , but this tranquil scene was shattered by the arrival of Maria with JPH and Catherine. They walked from Ridgeway, Maria pushing the pram. Mum and Dad had gone out for the day into the Dales with Ruby and Arthur. Maria laughed at our pathetic state.

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Saturday August 4, 1979

_. Lynn phoned at breakfast time to say they were safely in Cornwall. Susan slept from Shipley to Dartmoor where they had a moorland breakfast.

I tore up roses in the garden and various other blooms and made floral arrangements for our button-holes. Mum and Dad left for Pudsey at 11:15 with Ruby and Arthur, and Ally and I went up to Morrisons to cash a cheque and didn't get to the church until noon, just before the bride arrived. Pudsey Parish Church was looking somewhat tatty. I haven't entered the place since the bride's parents married here on Christmas Eve 1955.

The wedding breakfast took place at the Civic Centre. Ham salad followed by trifle. At 4pm some inconsiderate guest let off a stink bomb, which brought the proceedings to a sudden end. We sought refuge at Auntie Hilda's where we had drinks on the lawn. Hilarious. Something of a piss-up. I wore Mum's hat, and Tony was wearing a fetching blue creation. Mum met her old friend Shirley Hardaker.

Later the party continued at Farsley Celtic Football Club. Me wearing my Hawaiian-style shirt. A tolerable evening. Back to Hilda's where Ally and I drank rum and orange with Jill and Tim. We all slept in various corners of the house, but not until about 4am.

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Friday August 3, 1979

_. I'm reading more Evelyn Waugh. It's 'Brideshead Revisited' now, and I think the house is based on Castle Howard. Mr Waugh was such a brilliant geezer with a pen. Not really fashionable in the 1970s, but that's probably why I'm drawn to him.

Ally and I decided to stay at home tonight in front of a TV set. Ruby and Arthur stayed in to entertain us. Entertain isn't the word. Ruby's arthritis seemed to put a wet blanker over us all. In order to kill some of the pain in her feet she ceaselessly marches up and down the sitting room, leaning on two sticks and gasping and moaning in the process. Like a wounded animal. Poor Arthur, now 75, says they should never have travelled here.

Edward G. Robinson on the telly.

Hasn't the Queen done well in Zambia? They hail her 'Queen of the World' and everyone is saying how she helped break the ice for Margaret Thatcher, who wasn't getting on very well with Mr Kaunda at the [Commonwealth] conference.  I do wish Jim Rawnsley was the gambling type because I'd take from him every penny he's got on the subject of the monarchy. He says the UK will be a republic by 2000 and that the poor Prince of Wales will never be King. Ludicrous don't you think?

Lynn, Dave, Sue and Peter left for St Ives at about 11:30pm.

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Thursday August 2, 1979

_. Went with Susan, Peter and Ally to Pudsey for Karen and Steve's pre-wedding party at the Pudsey St Lawrence Cricket Club. Ruby and Arthur are at Auntie Hilda's. We went in crocodile fashion from Auntie Hilda's to the cricket club ten minutes away. The club was dull, like a mausoleum. The stewardess paled as we flocked in. I believe one has to be a member to enter that august club.

Karen and Steve seem grotesquely happy and it isn't difficult to become to become very attached to Steve who captures everyone with his boyish spirit. Was drunk by 11pm. We raided a Chinese take-away and went back to St James's Crescent. Home at about 1am.

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Wednesday August 1, 1979

_. Still wet today. It's so-called Yorkshire Day. I refuse to have anything to do with such a parochial celebration. A nauseating white flag is hanging limply over the YP building. It looks as if we have surrendered to one of the larger national newspapers. Have we perhaps under siege from the Morning Star and the Socialist Worker?

The Queen Mother was today installed as the 160th Lord Warden of the Cinque Ports at Dover Castle. I viewed the ceremonial on TV. The gale force winds and driving torrents of rain failed to wipe that beautiful smile from Her Majesty's face. She must have been water-logged. The Queen Mother was accompanied by Prince Edward, Viscount Linley and Lady Sarah Armstrong-Jones. Lady Sarah looked plump and sad, no doubt thinking about her father and new half-sister. The Snowdon's new baby is to be Lady Frances. Princess Margaret, stricken by 'flu, is confined to her cabin on the Royal Yacht Britannia.

Ally is depressed tonight. She went to Club Street with Susan and Peter and returned half an hour later down in the dumps. Sue and Pete had gone on and on criticising the place, pulling it to pieces. Ally, being the person she is took it all to heart.

Karen phoned to say that she and Stephen are having some sort of function tomorrow and would we all like to attend. I said yes, but Susan and Peter made no response. __________.

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Tuesday July 31, 1979

_. Torrential rain. Ally signed for her house on Club Street, and all is going ahead. When I saw the property last Friday I was pleasantly surprised. It seems solid and well cared for. Ally says that the interior is even better and more pleasing to the eye.

Sarah wants me to accompany her to the Grand Theatre next week to see Hamlet. Derek Jacobi is playing the prince. Dad would like to come too, but Mum refuses to entertain the idea. Wild horses wouldn't get Mum to the theatre, unless it was  John Hanson in 'The Desert Song'.

Listened to Jacqueline du Pre, the cellist, playing Beethoven's 'The Ghost'. Bloody awful, Ludwig.

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