Tuesday September 6, 1983

 Linthorpe Hotel, Middlesbrough

The Why Not?

Colin Black saw us this morning and informed me that I am to take out a protection order and become the temporary licensee of 'The Why Not?' at Hemlington, just two miles away. A Mr Fogarty, the incumbent licensee is flitting to Surrey on September 16 and we are to take up residence there on that day. Shock. Horror. Gasp. Thrill. Roy took us to see the place at 2. A pleasant place with good decor, but according to little Mr Fogarty it has a very rough, hooligan clientel. Mrs F is a shrinking violet who wouldn't say boo to a goose. Roy doesn't like them and he kept giving me old fashioned looks, if you get my drift. Back at the Linthorpe we took a lot of leg pulling. "If you have a full set of teeth in the Why Not you're a puff"..... Nevertheless we are going and are determined to make a go of it. Colin Black wants us to bring furniture from Club Street and we decide to go home tomorrow to arrange things. We could be at the Why Not for two months until a permanent manager can be found and installed. We decide we now want a car. It all falls into place quite easily when you put your mind to it. Ally and I opened up at 5:30. Busy. Middlesbrough played v. Newcastle Utd at Ayresome Park. We were rushed off our feet by 6:30. The staff found the idea of the Why Not a huge joke, but Ally decides it's jealousy.

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Monday September 5, 1983

 Linthorpe Hotel, Middlesbrough

Vault all day. A busy afternoon. I was inundated by a large group of college lecturers all wanting chilli con carne and chips. Roy came to assist and laughed at my lack of preparation. I wasn't expecting so many people. The vault on a Monday afternoon has always been stone dead in the eight weeks since we began here. The rota for the week is done. We are off on Wednesday, and Thursday morning. Colin Black is coming from the brewery tomorrow when Tim Whelan takes on the temporary licence of the Master Cooper, and goes to court, &c. Will Black have news for us?

Is HRH The Princess of Wales once again 'with child'? The tabloids report that has flown to London (from Scotland) to see her gynaecologist. Will we have a Princess Victoria is May or June? Or ....

1). Louise

2). Elizabeth

3). Charlotte

4). Alexandra

5). Caroline

6). Diana

7). Mavis

8). Muriel

9). Doreen

10). Carol

11). Jennifer

12). Carol

13). Crystal

14). Phyllis

15). Pearl

16). Suzanne

17). Blodwin

18). Janice

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Sunday September 4, 1983

 14th Sunday after Trinity

Linthorpe Hotel, Middlesbrough

Marie gave us some of the Barnes pork joint for our lunch. We ate on trays and watched TV. Pork shouldn't be pink, and this was at the centre. One can easily get the shits, but we escaped attack. 

What are we to call our son? Samuel is still touch and go. I like Oliver ... but Oliver Lawrence Dixon would make him OLD Rhodes. Would that be a dreadful cross to bear through his life? How about Oliver Dixon Lawrence? As for a girl ... Clementine has never been in question since that hot day in Ios in 1981.

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Saturday September 3, 1983

 Linthorpe Hotel, Middlesbrough

Mags: Who's Sorry Now?

Not too bad. Ally and I were up at dawn, but nobody else surfaced. Connie Francis and 'Who's Sorry Now' was still ringing in my ears from Mags's singing at 5am and I bet quite a few people are sorry now going by the vast array of unwashed glasses and half eaten sausage rolls. Kieran came down at 10 and annoyed Ally by screaming and clowning whilst she was adding up. Sally's till was £19 down. Middlesbrough played Leeds Utd and it ended in a draw. A busy afternoon with thirsty football supporters. Afterwards, laying on our bed we could hear the mob over at Ayresome Park chanting and stamping. The barbecue was rained off again. A hot evening and a lengthy one in the bar. To bed early. Jon-Paul is a good worker. He's surnamed Sale and sounds very 'county'. His nephew christened tomorrow is named Tobias Crispin Norman.

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Friday September 2, 1983

 Linthorpe Hotel, Middlesbrough

With JT.

Rain. Roy and Marie back. They say they have had no winners at York Races. Roy came into the lounge and shyly thanked me for looking after the place. Later he and Marie spent ages in the office looking at the books making sure we haven't embezzled the weekly takings. They say I was wrong to cash a cheque from Jake ___ but say it's all part of the learning experience. He would like to stop cashing cheques himself and advises me never to start doing it. Jake then came in and gave me a crisp £20 note. I could have kissed him. Roy observed this touching scene and rushed up to Jake and got £5 from a previous debt. As the great bard said: 'Neither a borrower, nor a lender be'. A wild night. Roy was presented with a watch by his devoted staff and after closing Marie prepared a buffet and the the revelry went far into the night. Ally stayed up until late and we took ridiculous photographs. Pissed.

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Thursday September 1, 1983

 Linthorpe Hotel, Middlesbrough

Ally reminds me it's Martyn Cole's birthday. It is also Roy's. He is away of course and I am running the Linthorpe Hotel. Well, I'm standing around wearing a tie, making sure everything is ticking over, and looking suitably managerial. Roy keeps a staff, and a large staff at that, working flat out all day. Today the morning routine jobs were over for 9 o'clock and we sat twiddling our thumbs. Everything looking spick and span. The staff have been very good and so tonight I bought them all a drink.

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Wednesday August 31, 1983

 Linthorpe Hotel, Middlesbrough

Jan made a cock-up of breakfast and didn't realise we were eating and that Mum and Dad were here. However, we did eventually sit down and ate crammed in a corner looking at the chimney. We went out to the shops after and went on to Yarm, a nice town like Otley or Skipton, where we had coffee and buns in a tea shop. Dad seems obsessed by cream buns. They think Ally looks bigger and decide that the lump is not all at the front which usually means the baby is a boy. Honestly, we have no preference. From Yarm we went back through Stockton-on-Tees to the Linthorpe for lunch outside. Chicken curry and gin. Feeling wan. In basket chairs. They left at 2. It was sad to say goodbye. We'll be going for a holiday to Horton shortly - I hope. When their car disappeared we went to bed and slept heavily. This evening Roy & Marie went away to the Selby Fork Hotel (It's Roy's birthday tomorrow) and Ally and I are left at the helm. A quiet night with no upsets and the staff behaved excellently and didn't linger too long afterwards. Mags was good too, and faded into the background. The old Alsatian dog, Saxon is, according to the vet, depressed. Mags says she is not surprised because he is 11 and has never had his leg over.

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Tuesday August 30, 1983

 Linthorpe Hotel, Middlesbrough

Ally, Dad and Mum at the Linthorpe.

It is a most beautiful sensation to feel our child moving in its mother's womb. Tiny, pulsating movements. We went down and had one of Jan's breakfasts and then went up again and had a bath in readiness for Mum and Dad's visit. We sat outside on the wall and they got here at about 2. It was so good to see them. We sat in the sun and then in lounge 1. Mum had cherries in her whisky (!!) and took to Dave the barman who was cheeky and pleasant. Joined by Marie and Charlie and Dad frowned at the sight of Marnie behind the bar. She is only 14. The four of us went on to Redcar. Hideous. Like Siberia, only more bleak and desolate. To the Highfield Restaurant at 5:30 for a four hour nosh-up. All on big steaks, though Ally is off them now that she can't eat them rare. Spent £42 on the four, but a good dinner. Back to the Linthorpe. It isn't Mum and Dad's sort of place but we sat in the corridor. I was pissed. We joined Roy and staff in the lounge after closing. Drank Campari sodas. Headache. To bed at 12:30 after coffee in Mum's room.

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Monday August 29, 1983

 Bank Holiday in UK (except Scotland)

Linthorpe Hotel, Middlesbrough

Our first Bank Holiday Monday at the other side of a bar. Quiet really. It seems that the good people of Middlesbrough escape to the coast on public holidays. Ally is laying the law down with the boys in the bar sending them for crisps and nuts and crates of diet pils. We did a good deal of laughing. Roy was nowhere to be seen. At 12 Roy emerged with books and files and took us to the dining room where he left us reading up on the licensing laws and Sam Smiths company policy, &c. The sun was blazing down and we observed people drifting in and out from behind the net curtrains. Lots of the women with punk-like leanings look like men in drag. A barbecue lunch again. Old Mags and Charlie squabbled about going home. They came shortly after we did last month with the intention of staying for four days and stayed six weeks. Mags Snr loathes Darlington and says she's lived 32 years there and still the locals shun her as a foreigner. Mum phoned to verify they are coming to see us tomorrow. She first spoke to William who was lolling on the stairs smoking a cigarette. Tonight we sat with Roy again. I went to the vault at 8:30. A quick slurp after and to bed. Ally is now eager to go out into the world and dispense beer.

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Sunday August 28, 1983

 13th Sunday after Trinity

Linthorpe Hotel, Middlesbrough

8:30 start on Sunday. So much appreciated. No cook so Ally had to come down and make me scrambled eggs on toast. Sat with Charlie drinking tea. He was a club steward in Darlington in the early '60s and was involved in the 'One Armed Bandit Murder'. Didn't Michael Luvaglio murder Angus Sibbet? It rings a bell ... something like that. Charlie explained how he went about watering down his booze. Old Charlie Poole has had a colourful life. We had a barbecue lunch on the lawn. Ally is really taking the staff in hand and was ordering Jon-Paul and Dave around as though she's been a manageress for years. She doesn't stand any nonsense. I am blessed with a talented, multi-faceted wife.

Wasn't Dickie Mountbatten done to death on this day in 1979, or was it yesterday? No doubt he will have been in the thoughts of those at Balmoral this week. Did I say we had phoned Glynnie when we were home last week?  He was chuffed. They have just buried Garry Barratt's grandfather. I have the feeling that Glynnie thinks we are insane quitting our 'listed' building at Club Street for this hectic life.

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Saturday August 27, 1983

 Linthorpe Hotel, Middlesbrough

Sean.

Horribly hungover. No sympathy from Ally. I certainly didn't get any. Downstairs nobody had surfaced and I did all the 'bottling up' and tidied the garden. Like a zombie and really regretting last night. It's fine for that bloody lot. They can stay in bed all day sleeping it off. I have to be up at 7am regardless. I go about effing and blinding all day. Ally, on the other hand, is speedy, efficient and cool. Slept from 2-5:30 and was better by evening. Everyone in the bar laughing at my 'hedgehog' haircut. In Lounge 1 with Ally and Sean. A quiet night and pleasant. Roy enjoys stirring things and told Ally how he attempted over and over again to persuade me to quit the bar and go to bed last night. Much laughter. At 11:30 I went over to the Chinese takeaway and bought food for Ally, William and I. Went up to bed and lay naked eating our supper watching 'American Graffiti'. Switched off. We'd seen it all before. Read 'The Eagle Has Landed' by Jack Higgins. Slept like a log. Ally, you'll be pleased to hear, has forgiven me.

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