Wednesday November 27, 1985

  Chillandham Cross, Itchen Abbas

Winchester.

Crisp and even, but not deep. By crisp I mean frost. To Winchester. More Yuletide shopping. It had to be done. Bessie joined us, but the mission proved fruitless and we returned later leaving Samuel with his 'Gammy', as he calls her. If people bought us the quality sort of presents that we buy them I would be very happy indeed. Sadly, I know only too well that the packs of socks from Otley Market (seconds) and Hai Karate aftershave are winging their way from Santa Claus to me. Frank in London all day, and all night in fact. Bessie is counting the days until Frank retires in Sept '87. ______. The trundle of food is giving Aly nightmares.

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Tuesday November 26, 1985

 Chillandham Cross, Itchen Abbas

Ally was collapsed by the fire looking like the young wife in 'David Copperfield'. Is she 'Dodie' or 'Dulcie' or something? However, we struggled out to look at the shops. Winchester doesn't seen troubled by mass unemployment. Every other shopper looks like a dowager viscountess. We spent a lot of money we do not possess and staggered back to the car. Frank nowhere to be seen tonight. He was at Rotary or the Round Table, or whatever. ___________. I'm reading a Sidney Sheldon book from Frank's study. A naughty little volume featuring lesbian rape in prison, &c.

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Monday November 25, 1985

 Chillandham Cross, Itchen Abbas

Chillandham Cross.

The mornings at Chillandham Cross never vary. We go downstairs to a groaning breakfast table, piled high, and always eat in the kitchen. Bessie has always half-cooked the bacon, &c, to prevent us from breakfasting simply on toast. Afterwards we went into town and poked around in the shops. Bessie came too. She is looking for curtain material featuring birds and flowers for the new lounge, which looks impressive. Chandelier lighting. Our Christmas present to them is going to be a Sam Chadwick print entitled 'Cloud Down Over Ingleborough' which will go well in the new west wing. Tonight the usual Edwardian-style dinner. But ridiculous because only Bessie and I were eating. A tin of soup would have done. This time Ally finds the smell of anything and everything offensive. This baby is going to be a little belter.

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Sunday November 24, 1985

 Waltergarth, Horton-in-Ribblesdale

Sunday next before Advent

The view from Waltergarth.

Dear Uncle Albert's 90th birthday. Dad has talked much about him this weekend. He says Uncle Albert worshipped Mum. _______. We had eggs and bacon, packed up and left for 11am. It is always touching leaving Horton. Dad blinking back tears in front of that old apple tree.________. Dad insists he cannot live alone. He has spoken of his parents and his father's love for his mother but complains that his father 'never told me what it was like to lose someone'. Grandfather of course was a man of few words who kept his emotions well buried. On the road we stopped at Watford Gap (or before) and ate in the restaurant.Steak and kidney pie, &c. Samuel sat at the table very grown up. The half hour break did Ally good. To Chillandham Cross for 5:30. We had cups of tea and I waited for a long time for Ally to tell her parents our good news. When she did the response was mediocre. No popping champagne corks. Frank, in his office, looked over his specs, and told Bessie that he already knew just by the look on Ally's face. We ate grilled steaks and watched 'Fawlty Towers' and retired to bed.  I borrowed a Sidney Sheldon book from Frank. Ally is having such a dreadful holiday. Weary, sick, &c. God knows how she will cope back at the pub , if we have a pub to go back to.

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Saturday November 23, 1985

 Waltergarth, Horton-in-Ribblesdale

Horton-in-Ribblesdale.

Too wet and cold to go out. Dad still suffering with a cold. Ally, Sam and I walked to the post office. Ally in her red Queen Mother-styled hat. Such fun. Afterwards, Ally slept by the fire and Dad and I had a few beers reminiscing again. He showed me Mum's brief 1984 diary - just bookings and birthdays, &c. We had roast chicken by candlelight. When Ally and Sam had gone to bed Dad and I watched a Jack Nicholson/Jessica Lange film. (The Postman Always Rings Twice?).
Naughty, but entertaining. Bed at 12. Dad has enjoyed having us here.

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Friday November 22, 1985

 Waltergarth, Horton-in-Ribblesdale BD24 OHW

Another historic day. A watershed in our tiny, though expanding family. To Settle. We had fish and chips in the car. Ally looking peaky. To Helwith Bridge for a pint, but Samuel (in his yellow suit) went on the rampage, and Dad dragged him outside. A cat was snuggling up to keep warm on our car bonnet. It was bitterly cold. Peacocks strutted around the car park, &c. Home for 2. We waited by the fire for 4:30, the magic hour when Ally phoned the medical centre. I was a nervous wreck. I dialled the wrong number and found herself speaking to someone from the water authority, and eventually got through to the Dr Goebbels-like secretary of Dr Sykes, who seemed to derive some enjoyment in delaying giving out the result. "Your sample is positive". Ally asked her to repeat it, and the secretary asked:  "aren't you pleased"? Of course we are bloody pleased. Much leaping around. So, July 16, 1986, it is. We phoned Lynn and Sue who were thrilled. Lynn came out with: "Oh what a miserable Christmas you are going to have". John wasn't home. Sue had hoped to borrow all Ally's maternity wear, but that is now scuppered. The two of us went to the Little House restaurant in Settle at 8. _______________________. A delicious dinner. Steaks, &c. I had Malibu ice-cream with an umbrella. We are still set on Clementine - "Clemmie". Back to see Dad at 10. Samuel was up and eating a banana. Dad enjoys Sam's company.

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Thursday November 21, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

Waltergarth, Horton-in-Ribblesdale.

Rose at 6:30. An early stock take at 8:30 with Ronnie Simpson, for a change. Paul turned up at 9 o'clock. It was a bad stock. We have already written off £154 with the returned OBB, but other losses put it up to £300. Sod them, anyway. We went away at 11 joking that this holiday might be a longer one that we at first thought. Paul says we'll have LG on the doorstep when we return. I don't give a monkeys. For Christ sake I want peace of mind and a quiet life. I might take that old Welsh witch up on one or two points and go to the country, Devon or Cornwall, and breed pedigree cats. We went to Horton via the Anchor at Gargrave, where Ally indulged in steak and kidney pie. I phoned Dad from here. He has a cold and is weary. To Horton for 2pm. A lovely crackling fire. Dad was tired, run down and emotional. He marks the weeks since mum's death on a calendar on the wall. 27 weeks. We told him our news, but it didn't seem to make an impact.I think he suspects we are a little premature in celebrating. Ally is also exhausted and done in. Dad and I went to the Crown Inn at 10pm when Ally and Sam took to their beds. Samantha Fox, with her huge tits, was on TV. We sampled the Theakston's. It was a dark walk home and we went and sat in his bedroom until 2am. He spoke of things I have never heard him talk about before. His national service days in the '50s. He looked over at his typewriter and said he is considering putting down all his thoughts and memories of his life with Mum to leave a last record of his life. He says he has volumes to say which will otherwise die with him. He spoke of his life insurance details and when he saw a look of concern on my face he said: "don't worry, I won't do anything silly." But added: "but I should have died with her". I encouraged him to write. It will do him good. _______.

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Wednesday November 20, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

The idiot who sinks pint after pint of Diet Pils afternoon and night shuffled off his mortal coil on Monday. He had been mixing his drink with tablets.  Silly, pathetic man. Ally took a sample to Beeston Health Centre. She will have the result at 4:30 on Friday. To this our hopes are pinned. Poor Ally is so pale and nauseous & we have no doubt that the result will be positive. ____________. Sam Smiths can sack us now and be damned. It could actually be an omen. Samuel was conceived in the month I took off from the YP and so another baby might signal the start of a new chapter. Nothing to do with employment will ever break my heart. The loss of family overshadows everything and put the insinuations of LG into proper perspective. Liz Melvin told me she is thinking of quitting, and then changed her mind. I cannot be bothered by it all. Ally was in a collapsed heap upstairs after packing up.

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Tuesday November 19, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds, LS11 5NQ

I was visited by an old witch in the guise of a 'true Welsh gypsy' who proceeded to foretell my future whilst standing in the entrance hall. "You will see Devon and Cornwall", she says, and "you have just lost a parent through heart disease or cancer". My wife, she says, will have two children "a son, who will be a footballer, and a daughter who will love me." "Do not trust a Peter or a Tom" she warned. This immediately wipes out half my family and customers here. My luck is "abroad" and I will find "happiness in the country in three years time." Other than my "nerves" I have no health problems. My father, she concluded, will "live to a ripe old age". She then gave six yards of lace, handmade, and charged me £6 for it. It made me very uneasy. One shouldn't knock such old practices by any means. This world holds many peculiarities which cannot readily be answered. Silly, old  'happy mediums' might not all be the devious con artists we think they are. Ally forgot to do a urine sample today and so she will have to go see Dr Sykes with one tomorrow. Fixed the yale lock today.

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Monday November 18, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds, LS11 5NQ

Leslie Gledhill arrived at his usual time - 10:57am - and stood murmuring in the tap room. We are not to be dismissed, though others in our position most certainly have been. Should he have any reason to find fault with my cellars in the future we will be sacked on the spot. He went away leaving me furious. It's a case of be grateful to LG because he has spared us. He showed mercy. Very unfair. I think Maureen probably heard everything. She was lurking with an ice bucket at the top of the stairs. We are expected to serve ale as though nothing has happened, grinning like idiots at our customers and all the while with some hair raising traumas abounding. 

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Sunday November 17, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds, LS11 5NQ

24th Sunday after Trinity

Clown Janette & Chris.

Feel very healthy. I didn't overdo things. MM and Marita called in at lunchtime to say they couldn't make it here last night. They had tried to phone but of course we have been vandalised. They were en route to see Dave L at the LGI, where he under going treatment to prevent bees from killing him. Very odd. Haven't seen Dave L for over a year. Such a pity. Marita asked if "any little Rhodes babies are on the way"? I replied: "you never know". She is something of a mystic is Marita. I bet she knows. Dad stayed to lunch - roast beef - and went to John's at 6pm after destroying our yale lock. ________. Liz and Chris worked again. Last night he was dressed as a Scotsman.

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