Wednesday August 29, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds

Lynn is home from hospital. Ally phoned and Lynn was croaking down the line. A cold. Dave L rolled up at 8:30 and we - he and I - headed to the Blooming Rose and then the Junction. Incognito of course. It was disco night in the packed Junction. People were not drinking though. Hundreds of teenagers gathered around one pint of Tetley's. Back to Ally at 10. She was entertaining Brian. Consuming wine. David is as weird as ever, and he doesn't 'booze'. I am unsure what his aim in life is. Teaching bores the pants off him, and yet he doesn't want to give up. At the same time he fancies a pub tenancy in a town centre. He left at 11:30. __________.

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Tuesday August 28, 1984

Moorhouse Inn, Leeds

Trixie.

Jacq Sate and dear Trixie came in at 9pm followed by Rob and his minder. We congregated in the lounge. Trixie looks much the same. She has quit the BBC because they have migrated from the Alexandra Palace to Milton Keynes. She continues to drink pints of bitter, but this no longer looks outrageous like it did in the sheltered genteel days of 1977. Rob left at 10:20 - and in the quiet of the night we had more pints and gave Jacq and her mama a guided tour and went upstairs to listen to records ~ Ella Fitzgerald, Nat King Cole, Boy George, &c. Trixie says that the Queen will abdicate and that Charles will be Britain's last sovereign. I told her not. We discussed death. Poor Pete Holroyd croaked on a Lancashire golf course on the very day I met Jacq in San Antonio.__________. How hospitable we are.

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Monday August 27, 1984

 Bank Holiday in UK (except Scotland)

Moorhouse Inn, Leeds

Bank holidays are a non-event here, as you know. As soon as it was decently possible we escaped and drove to Otley (hospital) to see our nephew, Tommy Baker. Otley was packed with vomitting juveniles and people without their trousers standing on street corners, &c. The river, as we passed over the bridge, looked like the Ganges at bathtime. In other words, Otley is a place to be avoided on bank holiday mondays. 

We found a congregation around Lynn's bed. The baby is very wrinkled with knees like an elephant, and incredibly tiny. Lynn, as usual, looked like she has just spent a day at the beach. David reserved, as ever. Back to Sue's afterwards. They are backing out of the Lanzarote holiday because of the house on Thorpe Lane. We spoke to (uncle) John only this morning and he has found us the perfect villa at Puerto Del Carmen. We are disgusted at Susan's flippant attitude, and now because they are letting us down the cost of the holiday has increased from £170 per head to £210. This his still a bargain though. Ibiza in the old days cost us £200.

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Sunday August 26, 1984

 New Moon

10th Sunday after Trinity

Moorhouse Inn, Leeds

Mum phoned at 3:30am to say that Lynn had gone into hospital, and when Ally phoned at 7:30 she was told that David had gone home from hospital to see the girls. Later, at visiting time, Lynn was packed off home because her contractions had ceased and so she went over to Pool (in Wharfedale) in her nightgown for tea with Audrey and Henry. Within an hour she was back on the ward heaving away.

A jolly morning in bed. I lay with Samuel singing 'happy birthday' to the Duke of Gloucester. He giggled at my idiocy. 

We spent an evening of tension propping up the bar talking to Bernadette (McCarron), a mother of five daughters. Jill and Tim came in with a couple of friends and we talked about London. The place was cleared by 10:45 and we had a drink with the Elmers. Mum phoned at 11:30pm to say that Lynn had given birth to a son at 10:35pm weighing 6lb 2oz, and named Thomas David. We squealed with glee. A son! They must be chuffed to arseholes. I had a Mandarine Napoleon brandy to celebrate. Jill phoned Karen and Di. And so, to bed.

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Saturday August 25, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds

We escaped to Guiseley and visited the Lawsons of Tennyson Street. As usual we arrived at meal time, and Joan, opening the door, I think took me for a Jehovah's Witness or 'Moonie'. Eventually the penny dropped and we were ushered into the sitting room for tea and cake. Dave was out but came in half an hour later with a ponytail and a tiny shirt with 'The Smiths' splattered over the front. He autographed our passport photos. He is enabled to do this because he is a teacher. Other suitables for this tedious duty include members of the Royal Family, judges of the High Court, and peers of the realm above the rank of a baron. David hadn't seen Samuel before. We did a lot of tittering and then went on to Sue's. John gave Samuel £5. Barbecue at Susan's, with Mum and Dad too. Afterwards we went to Lynn's for tea and we sat on the lawn beneath the umbrella I stole in Bournemouth. Lynn showed no signs of delivering. Home for 7.

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Friday August 24, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds

Busy day because we have only one staff member working at luncheon. It was Maureen today. Other than this - oblivion. The Egans were red faced after last night. Quite right.

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Thursday August 23, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn

Ally phoned Lynn. The girl is sick of waiting and is visiting the doctor tomorrow. David is in a state of agitation and wants a son. Audrey and Terry were in pissed up after an afternoon at the Pirie's. Audrey was wearing a big hat and staggering around 'like Gertrude Tanner' - but I think meant Schilling. 

Saw Maureen's granddaughter, Teresa, outside. Born in December she looks massive next to Samuel and seems to have a full set of teeth. 

Stan Ogden is deceased ending a TV partnership and a romance equal only to Burton and Taylor, Victoria and Albert, and Pearl Carr and Teddy Johnson.

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Wednesday August 22, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds

Marlene, Frank, Mark, Deborah and Auntie Mabel came to lunch and sat outside beneath an umbrella devouring ploughman's lunches and Black Forest gateau. It seems mercenary taking money from them but if not I'll never make a millionaire. Does Robert Maxwell's cousin have to pay for his 'Daily Mirror'? 

We are told that Elizabeth Taylor wants to die in Wales to be near Richard Burton's ghost. Won't the ghost be floating around in Switzerland? I am confused.

Samuel blows raspberries and entertained his kinfolk, so much so that I detected blue faces and wet eyes. Like Fred Karno's circus. Auntie Mabel dotes on him.

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Tuesday August 21, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds

Lord Fermoy.

Happy birthday to Princess Margaret and her reprobate cousin Gerald Lascelles. No Baker delivery. Margaret Rose Baker would have been so apt and sweet too. I stood in the bar tittering at Jim and George's Daily Star (I presume it's a shared copy). It describes Lord 'Eddie' Fermoy as 'Princess Diana's favourite uncle'. He's her only chuffing uncle. Well, only blood uncle. Her aunts Lady Anne Spencer and the Hon Mary Roche have husbands but they don't count. The Roche aunt is something of a nymphomaniac going by the list of husbands in Debrett's Peerage.

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Monday August 20, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds

Yes, Lord Fermoy uncle of the Divine Diana blew his brains out yesterday at his Berkshire home. He has suffered from depression for years, they say. His mother, Ruth Lady Fermoy, is currently with the Queen Mother at the Castle of Mey. Royal bank holidays seems to be always peppered with sadness.

Lynn was due today (baby no.3) but nothing happened. We had hoped it would happen yesterday when we were sitting in the garden,. Lynn's other babies were both born on a Monday.

Am I perhaps swinging towards the left? Have you spotted SDP tendencies in my entries? I say this because I have begun to find the Sunday Telegraph a trifle boring and dismal. Of course I never get chance to read the Sunday papers until days afterwards. Does this account for my lethargy? I am 29.

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Sunday August 19, 1984

 9th Sunday after Trinity

To Waltergarth, Horton-in-Ribblesdale

To Horton in time for breakfast at 9am which we ate with the Harwoods. Mum and Dad acting as servants. Samuel looking superior in his high chair. We retired to the garden afterwards and spent the day horizontally sinking wine. John, Janette, JPH, and Catherine came at 11. Both children well behaved and sweet. Debbie is a nice girl with an infectious giggle. Gave Mum a cup and saucer (picturing Trinity Church, Hull - £1.50 from Cheap 'n Cheerful). Stayed until after 10. An idle day. Ten litres of wine consumed. Barbecue, &c. Scottish dancing and various outdoor activities. 

News at 10: Lord Fermoy has committed suicide. Home dead at 11:30.

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