Saturday May 19, 1984

A warm, gentle day. Ally and I took off to town with Samuel at 1pm. We didn't take the pram and I carried baby for two hours, by the end of which he was like a lead weight. To Laura Ashley where Ally bought a frock for £26 and a pair of shoes (£9.99). I went to Greenhead's and bought 'Adele & Co' by Dornford Yates and then to Thornton's for a box of chocolates. Very sensibly I have decided that clothes form the bulk of Ally's birthday presents. No jewels, furs or trinkets this year. Back at 5. Lasagne and orange juice. Ally worked tonight and was bubbling with fun. I sat drinking with Bernie. After (at 12) Ally and I drank £7.03 worth of booze (Malibu, shakers (?), port, &c. and went to romp upstairs until 3am. _______.

-=-

Friday May 18, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn

'Big Mick' the pot bellied darts player with Hells Angel tendencies went to bed last night and died. His wife regularly babysits for Maureen. The tap room was a sad place this afternoon and all the darts team appeared wearing black as a mark of respect. It must have been Big Mick's ticker. Marie Barnes and Mags called in. It was a joy to see them. We are going to the Linthorpe to see them in a few weeks. Jane and Margaret worked tonight. Edna, perched at the bar, has a face like a wet weekend. 

Daily Trivia: a son has been born to Lord and Lady Ralph Percy, a male heir for the dukedom of Northumberland. The eldest son (of the current duke) is unmarried and weird looking. Sadly, two dukedoms are on the cards to expire by about 1990. Portland and Newcastle. Such a pity. Perhaps Mrs T will end her days as Duchess of Grantham. She will soon have won four general elections on the trot. Not even Disraeli managed that. 

-=-

Thursday May 17, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds

Bert.

Cold. The over enthusiastic woman from Kenmar (fruit machines) bustled in and talked none stop for half an hour about gas boilers. Yawn. Mum phoned with news of the Uncle Bert saga. They waited for him to arrive at Horton, but he didn't appear. Eventually they phoned Nottingham and he was there. It seems he came by train to Leeds, but was late, and so made his way to Guiseley and the Station Hotel where he phoned every Baker in the phone book, to speak to Lynn, without success. After an hour he hobbled back to Leeds and took the train back home to Nottingham. She says he was very angry and 'more or less put the phone down on me'. He spent £17 on rail fares. What a cock up. 

At 3:30 we went to Linfood Cash & Carry and spent £40 on gigantic jars of tartare sauce, &c. Bulk buying is fun. To Club Street for half an hour where we ate bars of chocolate and sipped lemonade. Samuel, sitting on my knee, smells like an old sheep. He had eaten braised lamb splodge for lunch. Such a cute boy he is. Back to the Moorhouse for 6:30. Dog tired. I could sleep for a week. One needs the stamina of an ox in this game.

-=-

Wednesday May 16, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds

Overcast day. Phoned Susan. Mum is on her way to us, she says, with a surprise visitor they are collecting at the station. It's Uncle Bert. They arrived at 2:30 having agreed to collect Bert at Leeds Railway Station but as usual paths were crossed and Bert is still at large, wandering the streets on his artificial limb. We had a traditional Mandarine Napoleon. Dad bounced Samuel on his knee and flew him through the air like a bird. They went at 5 to find Bert and take him to Horton. Somehow I cannot see this visit having a satisfactory conclusion. 

Marita.

We dressed hurriedly, packed baby into the car and went to Horsforth and MM and Marita's for dinner. Immediately, Samuel decided he didn't like the plush refinements of 12, Rawdon Road, and began to bawl. He cried like he was in pain, and yelled through the stuffed peppers, watercress soup, turkey in brandy sauce and trifle. He had lucid intervals but hysterics for four hours. It was a pleasant night despite Samuel's Maria Callas impersonation. They are going to Yugoslavia again this summer. They regularly buy cut glass in Dubrovnik. We left at 12, or so.

-=-

Tuesday May 15, 1984

 Full Moon

Moorhouse Inn, Leeds

Dr Hampson says he will not resign his seat but his PPS job has gone. The PM is reported to be livid that he kept his arrest secret for 10 days and she first heard of it when she opened her Sunday Telegraph at Chequers. Very lapse of the Home Office. 

Samuel giggles properly now. He has rushes of high wind too. We put the blame on his chicken dinner and chocolate pudding. His nappies look hideous these days. Really grown up, if you get my meaning.

The Moorhouse.

Cleaned the beer lines and brasses. The place looking like a new pin. LG came in. Affable and complementary he was too. He went to inspect the cellar and came back praising my cleanliness. He went off after 10 minutes, no probably half an hour, and is heading to Majorca next week, and so said goodbye until June. A very relaxed meeting. He left and then in walked David Tyne on a 'routine' visit. He bought Ally and I a drink and chatted for ten minutes. He asked if we have any regrets and of course we said 'no'. He thinks I've put on some weight. He isn't wrong. LG & Tyne caught us at an opportune moment. 

To Leeds with the pram at 3:30. A pleasant walk. Dead tonight. Jane looked bored stiff. A good manager would keep her working flat out, but instead I went upstairs and watched 'Dallas'.

-=-

Monday May 14, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn

A hot day. 

Bessie phoned to say that Andrew is agreeable about the 'godfather proposal' and Ally reassured her that the boy doesn't have a large solo performance at the christening. At 3:30 I went up Dewsbury Road for a breath of fresh air and afterwards we had bars of chocolate and cups of tea. Ally opened up at 5:30. Mum phoned to say they will call on us on Wednesday after visiting Susan and Lynn. Why? We are seeing them next Monday, and Leeds is a bit of a detour after visiting Guiseley.

Dr Hampson.

News: Earl Jermyn says, in the DT, that he will return to Ickworth Park in September from tax exile when he marries and chastises the PM for not scrapping capital transfer tax. Quite right. Mark Thatcher has brought Texan bombshell Karen Forston and her mother to Chequers no doubt to arrange wedding plans. St Margaret's Westminster in August, eh? Dr Keith Hampson, Tory MP for Leeds NW was arrested last week in a gay strip joint  in Soho after molesting a plain clothes copper. Hampson is Heseltine's PPS but wasn't carrying top secret documents at the time of his arrest. Twice married Dr Hampson says he was thoroughly pissed and depressed one night and that he staggered into this den of iniquity unaware of what was in store.Yet the proprietor of the gay establishment says Hampson is a regular client. I object to the police acting as agent provocateurs. Leave the poor little poof alone and let him get on with it. It's another promising career in ruins. Silly sod.

-=- 

Sunday May 13, 1984

 3rd Sunday after Easter

Moorhouse Inn, Leeds

Uncle Peter.

Ally opened up with Margaret and I stayed with Samuel. Upstairs inspecting the geraniums I looked out and saw a Rover car approaching carrying Auntie Mabel, but who was she with? It's Uncle Peter and cousin Beverley. He is so very likeable. The double of Grandad Wilson. Beverley is 16 and training to be a nurse 'like our Jackie'. Mabel and Beverley sat outside with Samuel and I stood in the darkened lounge with uncle Peter having a run down on various aspects of the family history since 1980. Stephen Myers is in a unhappy marriage. Cousin Derek is still fishing _____, Julie is happy and working in a health food shop in Leeds. He says he is still waiting for a phone call from mum. He says he phoned her four years ago but she was in the bath. 'She's having a long bath', he snorted. They do have these periods of separation. At 1:30 he took Mabel off for Sunday luncheon and I took Samuel across the park but he didn't enjoy it, and wailed. Fish for lunch. A failure. Burnt cheese sauce.  Ally and Jane worked later. I stood with big Brian talking about the pubs of the Yorkshire dales. He remembered old George Deacon and didn't know he is deceased. Tap room quiet - like the Royal Mausoleum at Frogmore.

-=-

Saturday May 12, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds

Sunshine. I didn't go downstairs but sent Ally down to do half an hour in the bar with Audrey.We have decided to escape for the afternoon and the chosen victims on whom we have decided to descend are the Gadsbys of Wilsby. The whole bunch of them usually gather there after shopping at Asda and we can do them all in one swoop. Sure enough we found them assembled and arrived just in time for lunch. Little Hayley was trundling around in a trolley-type thing. She is very much like Karen. Steve is no longer driving for Burtons and has purchased an insurance round in Bramley. He didn't sound toon enthusiastic about it. Samuel was entranced by Hayley. It must be a weight off his mind knowing that he isn't the only tiny person around. At 3:30 wewent on to Guiseley. Susan sprawled in the garden like a beached whale. Christopher, full of hell, was ransacking the kitchen. Pete calmly watching a film midst the debris. Nexxt time we see her Sue will be cuddling a new pink bundle. On to Lynn's. Sat in the garden admiring the new erection. Sandwiches on the lawn. Frances came and sat upon my knee. Lynn very brown from the constant worshipping of the sun.Back in Leeds for 7. We were packed out.

-=-

Friday May 11, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn

Ally's back ache is much the same. This is a worry because Mum has suffered with her back down the years. Childbearing is the cause of this. At least we have a good hard bed on which to rest our weary bones. Soft modern comforts must have contributed to ther numerous dodgy backs up and down this nation.

A day of no particular excitment. Ally took to bed at a reasonable hour to ease her pain. Is the pub combined with a new baby too much? She says not, but we do lead an exhausting way of life. Just look at the easy time had by Lynn and Sue. Ally says the life of a typical 'housewife' would bore her to death.

When will we see LG?  It's been a month now with no sign of him. However, it must mean he is happy with us.

-=-

Thursday May 10, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds 11

Bitterly cold in and out. More in than out in fact. Have I told you our boiler has croaked? Well it has and subsequently we have a layer of frost in the flat. Snow on the top of the wardrobe, &c. Are you getting the picture? We breakfasted around the fire, the gas fire. Downstairs is no better. Old men wrapped in overcoats sipping ice-cold ale. I shudder to watch. Karen is off attending her sister's 'hen party'. I am with Margaret (Milne). Ally upstairs ironing. She hasn't been downstairs for ages. Samuel is so time consuming. He sleeps less and less. Food too, he's something of a pig. Financially tonight is the most dead since our arrival. Unperturbed to bed. Ally has back-ache. She must get to a doctor.

See in the Daily Telegraph that Countess Spencer's son, the Hon Rupert Legge is engaged to Victoria Ottley. Other trivia ~ Lady Gweneth Cavendish, 93, grandmother of the Pcss of Wales's lady-in-waiting Gweneth Baring, has snuffed it.

-=-

Wednesday May 9, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds, &c

Still dull outside. Who cares? Our alarm clock is on the blink and refuses to sound off. Samuel laid patiently peeping through his bars and his slumbering Mama refused to follow my example of climbing out in the chill of the bedroom. The brewery phoned to say the dray isn't coming until tomorrow. This is no trouble.

Samuel almost sat unaided. He wobbled for a few seconds and then keeled over. Just after 2 we escaped to Bradford where Ally left me at Club Street to go for her hair doing ~ a perm. She was back at 5 looking like she did two years ago. A crinkly fringe, &c. At Club St until 7-ish when we returned to the pub where we went unmolestered by the bar staff. We spent a few hours upstairs together. TV abysmal.

To bed with Noel Coward's journal. He was certainly well in with the Queen Mother. She has a leaning, they say, for homosexual company, a comment which certainly upset her private secretary Sir Martin Gilliat. I can see his point. Ally, all curls, on the pillow next to me.

-=-