Tuesday January 8, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

Dray day. It came at about 9 o'clock. Ally did the bar at 11, and then from 5:30. She seems to be avoiding me, but says she's leaving me to be with Mum and Dad. Auntie Mabel phoned this morning and spoke to Ally. She has finally been discharged from hospital care ten years after her mastectomy. She asked Ally to pass this news on to Mum, but instead she told Dad who for some reason kept the news to himself. It seems that Mum is to be cocooned from any news these days and I am sure it is very wrong. 

Rob Piper came in at lunch full of cold. He had two large sandwiches and I told him about Mum. He says he has been obsessed by the thoughts of death recently and that he now drives slower on the roads and suffers from attacks of severe morbidity. It is his great age. He is 33. We promised to go see them at the Butchers Arms on Thursday.

A very overpowering health visitor came to look at Samuel and declared him to be perfection. It was a waste of time really.

Quiet tonight/ Saw a chunk of 'Gregory's Girl' on Channel 4. A sloppy tale of adolescent love. Mum enjoyed it. A few beers downstairs with Ally. Audrey worked. 

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Monday January 7, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

Cold. Snow lying here. Dad walked with Mum across Hunslet Moor for 10 minutes and I watched them from the kitchen window. It was very touching. 

We had a stocktake. A £3 deficit over a 48 day period and £15,000 takings. Very good.

Princess Margaret had an operation yesterday on her left lung and the bulletin says tissue was removed which is benign. They would say this though, wouldn't they? Here we are watching the lunchtime news and the possibility that Princess Margaret has cancer and Mum sits there apparently oblivious to her own condition. I have been reading about Princess Michael of Kent in the Sunday Telegraph. She is 40 next week.

Dead again downstairs. Had a handful of folk in tonight for the pool knockout and we provided the usual sandwiches. Kitty, the old crow, wanted pork pie, and so I purposely avoided her. I am like that. I only give pork pie to people I'm especially fond of. 

Ally opened up from 5:30._______. We have seriously talked about another baby. Samuel needs a sibling. He is obsessed by other babies.

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Sunday January 6, 1985

 Epiphany

Moorhouse Inn

Princess Margaret has gone into a London hospital for tests. The Brompton specialises in lung and heart problems. The TV news tells us that the princess smokes 40 cigs a day, and drinks gin by day and Scotch by night. Poor Princess Margaret. She never has any luck. At 54 she has that drawn look so reminiscent of her father King George VI. 

Lynn, David and girls called in during the afternoon. We had a quiet day upstairs with Mum and Dad and after Samuel's departure to bed we had roast beef and Yorkshire puds, &c off Minton china. Mum did very well and managed to eat a moderate portion. She has been cheerful today and determined to be brave for our benefit, I am sure. It cuts Dad to pieces to see Mum upset.

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Saturday January 5, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds

Mum had a very low day and sat in her chair weeping __________. Uncle John phoned and spoke to Dad.  She is worried about possible visitors. She only wants to see people whom she loves and who love her.

Our Christmas decorations came down today. Auntie Hilda phoned to say that Jill is three months pregnant. Joyous news. John and Janette came this afternoon (and drank lemonade!). Ally was out shopping. They talked about washing machines and passed furtive glances to each other when Mum told them of Jill's pregnancy.

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Friday January 4, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

Gentleman David's funeral. His girlfriend, a Mrs MacDermott, came here at 2:30 with a party of funeral attendees and we gave them sandwiches and coffee for £12. Ally was embarrassed to give Mrs MacD the bill and so I had to perform the task. They drank off Jessie Lapsley's china. I felt rough and shivery, no doubt going down with something. I stayed upstairs for as long as possible tonight but went down on the look-out for soccer rowdies because Leeds Utd are playing at home this evening (against Everton?). I sat in a corner looking like death warmed up. The customers were still eating David's funeral sandwiches this evening. Cousin Sam appeared and sat with us. He has been decorating for a week. He gave Uncle Harry a set of keys to his house - as a Christmas present.

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Thursday January 3, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

Katie Baker is two. Ally took Samuel over to Guiseley this afternoon to Lynn's where she's having a tea party. I snoozed on the settee which was pushed up to the gas fire. Mum and Dad sat holding hands together. Ally came back at 5 o'clock with a tale that Janette had seen a doctor who told her she must be pregnant, when in fact she isn't. _____________ .

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Wednesday January 2, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

Bank Holiday in Scotland

Mum and Dad's birthday. Mum's 50th. They came back here this afternoon and it was agony watching Mum puffing and panting climbing the stairs to the flat. We gave a party this evening and the family came over with presents and cards. Mum has developed a craving for seafood, particularly for crab meat. We had no prawns in the freezer and sent Audrey home to inspect her pantry without success. Janette and I went to the Junction and then the club in search of cockles and mussels but came back empty handed. Mum's appetite is adrift. They all left at 11 and we went to Mum and Dad's room and sat on the bed reminiscing about times gone by. Earl Stevens, &c. We didn't take note of the passage of time and we found ourselves wallowing in nostalgia until after one.

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Tuesday January 1, 1985

 New Year's Day - Bank Holiday in UK

Moorhouse Inn

The usual ghastly hangover. Bloody hell, Maureen didn't turn in and at 10:30 Ally and I were downstairs mopping and polishing. My hair was standing on end & I thought that the end of the world was upon us. We didn't go to bed until 5am. Sue is an angel. She took Samuel and gave him his breakfast and looked after the boy as Ally and I struggled below. Janette sat almost on top of the gas fire shivering. She really should see a doctor. Sam Snr came in with Uncle H fresh from Majorca. He gave us a Don Quixote wooden statue. Spain, he says, was cold and bleak. Audrey was dancing around in the bar - if not pissed then in very high spirits. We all had scampi for lunch and then the family left us in peace. I opened up at 5:30 but didn't see a customer until about 7. Maureen worked tonight and took a lot of hammer for 'knocking' this morning. Phoned Mum this afternoon.

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Monday December 31, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn

New Year's Eve is upon us. Ally fuming at the lack of interest in our so-called party. Peter phoned to say they cannot get transport and so we volunteered to go to Guiseley and collect them  which we did at 4. _____Back here we opened up at 7, and the evening proved quiet and was a typical Monday evening. Jacq Sate came in with the Winston Churchill look-alike. Both dressed as Romany gypsies and went on to a party on York Rd. She landed me a smacking kiss on the way out. I tried to tell Jacq that Mum is very poorly, but it didn't seem to sink in. Lynn, Dave, John, Janette, Sue, Pete, Marlene and Frank &c, all gathered. It was a very low key affair. Mum was only mentioned when absolutely necessary. Frank, sadly spoke of 'auntie Nora' possibly phoning with a new year message, but we know she won't be. I locked the pub door at 11:30, locking in the regulars, and Robert Millar stood guard at the door. Ally carried food downstairs, and we had a festive celebration. The tap room was dead. Three old men singing 'Auld Lang Syne' together. The lounge lot seemed jovial enough. Just the family went upstairs at 1am to attack our private booze supply. Sue desperately wanted to go to bed but we made her sit with us and drink brandy. We all talked about Mum, nobody wept, and we were very level headed about it. Lynn and Dave slept in the bunks in the office. Sue and Peter had a double bed with Christopher. John and Janette had the settee. She still isn't well. So, a year which began so full of magic has ended in tragedy and despair. God knows what '85 will bring. Poor Mother.

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Sunday December 30, 1984

 1st Sunday after Christmas

Moorhouse Inn

Auntie Mabel phoned and we had a long, chatty conversation. Hilda phoned too and was glad to hear that Mum and Dad are having a quiet weekend at Horton. Later, I phoned Horton. Dad was trying to persuade Mum to eat some roast chicken. Dad says the house is damp, cold and forbidding and they want to be back with us as soon as possible. He loves Waltergarth and the village, that is easily observed, and yet for some reason Mum, he says, is very bitter about the place. She enjoyed guest house life at first but this year has been disillusioned and recently yearning for Guiseley. Poor Pine Tops. How convenient would that be now. Nightmare, a bloody nightmare.

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Saturday December 29, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn

Uncle Albert died 15 years ago today. Mum and Dad got up early and went to Airedale Hospital where Mum saw Mr Hall and her stitches removed quite painlessly. I had an awful day after they had gone and wept hopelessly at the little things. I had been brave and void of hysterical emotion whilst they were here. ________. Drank a lot of whisky. Ally did the ironing and scurried around like a washer woman. Mavis worked this evening and I ran up and down the stairs to see Ally and top up with Bell's Whisky. Phoned everyone. David didn't put me on to Lynn because she was far away in a distant corner of the house. Do they perhaps live in Blenheim Palace, or what? He told me they'd been with friends last night to the Menston Arms and was surprised when I told him that Mum and Dad have returned to Horton. We were going to have a family party for New Year's Eve, but now Lynn and Dave might stay away -- 'We only wanted to come see Mum and Dad' was the remark. Susan is of a similar opinion, but John will come. Ally stood fuming over her ironing board.....

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