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.

-=-

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. _____________ .

-=-

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.

-=-

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.

-=-

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.

-=-

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.

-=-

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.....

-=-

Friday December 28, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn

I am compiling this by candle light, dear reader. We neglected the pub today, again. I do not feel guilty. We are 'coddling' Mum, as Dad says. Ally feels cold and shivery and she sat huddled on the settee. Tonight we all watched TV together, Mum and Dad holding hands by the fireside. Watched a ridiculous 'Miss Marple' play and I didn't go down to the bar until the very end. Mum stayed up to watch Barry Manilow. I find him quite horrific. This was followed by a chunk of 'Brief Encounter', Frankenstein and Count Dracula. I watched the horror films alone, clutching a glass of whisky and with a box of Milk Tray upon my knees.

-=-

Thursday December 27, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn

We are still sitting around in festive paper party hats cracking nuts and scoffing chocolates. I never get the chance to speak to Papa in private and I do not know whether he thinks Mum is progressing, if at all. Her appetite is non-existent now. At lunchtime Auntie Hilda and Uncle Tony appeared and seemed stunned by Mum's appearance. Mum sat in a high-backed chair, her long, thin fingers resting on the arms. Hilda seemed to fix her eyes on them for ages, aghast at the yellowness. Mum was bright and laughing and drank several Beachcomber Creams. She now finds alcohol distasteful. Lynn, Dave and the children came in and Mum promptly went to bed. They had been to the 'January Sales' in Leeds. _________. I showed Hilda to the door and she looked quite dreadful and asked: "We are never going to have any results from these tests, are we, Michael." I shrugged and shuffled from foot to foot in the cold. The afternoon had taken it's toll on Mum's strength and for the rest of the day she was weary.

-=-

Wednesday December 26, 1984

Moorhouse Inn

A quiet day. It was hardly worth opening. Mum and Dad stayed in bed late. She became more hideously yellow this afternoon, even her scalp where the yellow glowed through her hair. We went down to see Audrey in the bar but I came back upstairs at 2 and lay on the bed chatting to Mum. We ate a carbon-copy Christmas lunch at 3:30. Ally cracked a tooth on the Christmas pudding which had become brittle being over-cooked in the microwave. The piece of tooth hit the table with a crack and then disappeared. Archie came in pissed tonight and I gave him a few harsh words and off he went in a huff. A quiet gloomy evening.

-=-

Tuesday December 25, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn

Christmas Day. Up bright and cheerful, 'O Come All Ye Faithful' blasting away on the stereo followed by Nat King Cole which choked me a bit. Mum was up and dressed in red and wearing a party hat for 10 o'clock when Lynn, Dave, Sue and Peter arrived with their multitude of offspring. Samuel was stunned at the sight of all the other children ripping open presents and playing with Christmas wrapping paper. We opened the pub from 11 until 1, and the day downstairs felt like a Sunday lunch type of day and wasn't over-festive. We were upstairs again by 2 o'clock and all the others left us, departing to Guiseley, and leaving us in peace. Mum cannot really cope with too much activity. I suppose it's very frustrating for her. Just as we sat down to lunch at 3 John and Janette came in with the children, except Hannah of course. Mum ate a good dinner but we didn't do anything too heavy. Turkey, new potatoes, asparagus, &c. We watched the Queen and then switched the box off. The TV is a nuisance at Christmas. The Queen spoke of family and showed a clip of the royal christening from last Friday (Prince Harry). A hoo-ha apparently because Princess Anne wasn't asked to be a godmother and so instead she went out to shoot rabbits on her Gatcombe Park estate. What rot. Collapsed after dinner. Mum becomes snappy on an afternoon, and realises this but can do nothing about it. Janette got her head bitten off for calling Dad 'Dad'. 'He's not your Dad', she growled. _________. Mum drifted back to bed at intervals. Dad was very pleased at the amount of lunch she consumed because her appetite is now non-existent. When Mum is out of the room Dad becomes very emotional. We gave them a Sam Chadwick print of Pen-y-Ghent and he knows exactly where it was painted from in Horton. F & B phoned and we all chattered. They sent us a gold carriage clock and we spent ages trying to get it to go. The battery was dead. A blissful evening with our feet up eating chocolates and drinking. I snored in an armchair for an hour or so. Mum enjoyed a sip of something called 'Beachcomber Cream' . By 11 we were all bushed. Dad and I had a pile of salmon sandwiches after Mum and Ally had retired and he very touched at our Christmas together and despite the sadness we all have etched upon us it has been a Christmas day of peace and thankfulness because we are so fearful of what next year might bring.

-=-