Friday April 12, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

Back to it. A sunny start. Dad came down to wake us at 6:30. Upstairs Sam was asleep crouched face down with his face buried in his pillow. The car was packed and we drove to Leeds for 8:50. Andrew Snowden is a scruffy, unkempt individual. Ally was furious that he had left all the washing up. Ronnie did the stocktake. A £63 deficit. We learn from Audrey that he deposited much ale from the drip trays down the sink. Silly bugger. The annoying thing is that he swans around looking so superior and confident when in fact he's made a cock-up of the whole business. Tonight at 10 Ally sprung a surprise birthday party and brought me a large blue cake with a '30' inserted in the top. It was made by June, David Howard's girlfriend. Lots of sandwiches too, which were passed around the pub. I was stunned. Open mouthed and wide-eyed, &c. Dear Ally, how very sweet of her.

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Thursday April 11, 1985

 Chillandham Cross

We slept in and Bessie gave Sam his breakfast, Bacon, eggs, &c. So we were late packing and setting off. We left at 12:30, Bessie in her tweeds waving us off in a heavy downpour. Tortuous drive homeward. Six and a half hours! We sat for half an hour in a jam on the M1.

Bessie.

At Club St for 6:30. Mum has been in bed since Monday. She looked tired and thinner. Dad says that she is very 'weepy' and that Club St is too quiet for her. She needs people. I told him that they could come back to the noise of the Moorhouse whenever they liked. No need to linger in Bradford.

Sue came with Jim, Margaret and Julie. Sue so cheerful and bubbly. I cannot put on such a show. Sue cut Dad's hair. We watched 'Minder' and had fish and chips, and then, after Sue had left, we sat on Mum's bed giving a detailed account of our week in Hampshire. Bed - or more correctly - floor at 11. I couldn't sleep. We both lay tossing and turning.

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Wednesday April 10, 1985

 Chillandham Cross

Fine day. We went with Bessie and dear Sammy to Marwell Zoological Park. Bessie in a headscarf looking like the Sovereign Lady herself. We looked at the Vietnamese pot bellied pigs, &c. Strenuous walking. Samuel didn't enjoy it and he wailed a good deal. He is in a sweat all the time with his teeth. The cages at the zoo are covered in plaques bearing the names of the good people who have paid to 'adopt' the animals. We are told that Graham and Charlotte Smith have adopted a snowy owl here, but we saw no evidence of this. I find zoos sickening really. The inmates always look suicidal. Lunch at Ch. Cross. We left Samuel with Bessie and went shopping at 3. Shoes for Ally and a Khaki creation for Sam. TV tonight. 'Dallas'. Gin & tonic. _________.

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Tuesday April 9, 1985

 Chillandham Cross

At Chillandham Cross.

To Winchester all day. Frank gave me a cheque for £13 for my birthday. I want Kenneth Rose's 'George V' in hardback. Impossible. Ally bought a Laura Ashley creation (£33) and had her hair played with (£11).

Phoned Dad. Mum has been in bed all day and has eaten nil. Sue had visited with the boys and no doubt exhausted her. 

At 6:30 we went to Salisbury (Ally looking beautious in her new off the shoulder number and sweeping hair, &c). Got £2.80 seats at the playhouse to see 'And Then There Were None' by Agatha C. Because of the race relations fiasco the play can no longer be called 'Ten Little Niggers'. Not a good play, but we were entertained. To the Salisbury Berni (inn). (Newly done out) at 9:30. T-bone steaks, &c. Home for 11:30. Sam had had another bad night and was keeping Bessie on the go. It's his teeth.

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Monday April 8, 1985

 Chillanadham Cross

Bank Holiday in the UK (except for Scotland)

Out we went with Samuel for a muddy walk down the lane. Ally squealed in horror at the sight of a flattened frog. She is so deliciously squeamish. Frank, a workaholic, went off to Southampton to sit in his empty office and so later we took Bessie to Alresford to look at swans and the Watercress Line, &c. Bright and warm. The second hand book shop was open and I managed to get lost amidst the Spy cartoon reproductions. Ally was livid. Samuel squealed at all the dogs and children. He really does need a friend. Such a cute, affectionate child. I do loathe Bank Holidays and the silly sheep-like mob. I do not like to be counted as one of them. This evening, to the Otter at Otterbourne, the Hut at Chandlers Ford - squalid. Then to Southampton. The Oriental is no longer a Berni Inn and so we slummed it in Portswood at the miserable Berni Inn there and we returned home at 10:30. Samuel was awake and weeping copiously for a worried Graham Dixon. Oh dear.

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Sunday April 7, 1985

 Easter Day

Chillandham Cross, Martyr Worthy

The baptism of Simon Thomas James Dixon.

That awful Bishop of Durham now says that Christ didn't rise from the dead at all. Isn't it just bloody marvellous? Christ wasn't the result of a virgin birth either. I suppose Pontius Pilate didn't wash his hands and that Judas Iscariot played for Plymouth Argyle.

Samuel at Bembridge vicarage.

We took the ferry to the Isle of Wight from Portsmouth. Sam in full Victorian naval outfit. Just us. with Frank, Bessie. Andrew and Lorraine followed the Mercedes in Bessie's car. He's looking for one of his own. The crossing took 25 minutes. I sat gulping down my anti-dog pills and a bearded gentleman sitting opposite was smiling to himself thinking I must be sea sick. The sea was like a mill pond. Graham met us with Michael Lynn. Drove to Bembridge. All Victoriana. Church impressive. Service short. I sat beneath a stone tablet to Admiral Sir Francis Tottenham, GCB. Back to a buffet at the vicarage for a couple of hours. Samuel was something of a show stealer. Simon is huge, reminiscent of a 1914 photo of Great-Aunt Elsie. Back at Chillandham Cross for 7. Out to the Bush at Ovington and the Horse & Groom at Alresford later - just the two of us. Phoned Dad.

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Saturday April 6, 1985

 5, Club Street, Lidget Green

Little Frances is 4. Fine day. Hideously hungover. I went and lay on Mum's bed. She was breathing very heavily as though she was fighting. She smiled and remarked that I was laid in a very similar position 30 years ago too. 

We packed and left at 10:30. Samuel, so very well behaved. A jolt saying goodbye to Mum. On the journey south I was sick on the hard shoulder of the M1. Last night's steak au poivre and broccoli. To Winchester without a break. A sunny arrival at about 3pm. Bessie was gardening. We had tea and cake. She doesn't go over the top or go bananas on seeing Samuel. She believes in re-introducing herself to her grandson very gradually. 

Tonight we had a turkey dinner. I phoned Dad. To bed very early.

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Friday April 5, 1985

 5 Club Street, Lidget Green, Bradford

Good Friday. My 30th birthday. Who would have ever thought it would be such a day? We woke up on the floor at Club St. Sleeping bags, &c. I took my birthday cards upstairs and we sat opening them on Mum & Dad's bed. Samuel loves singing 'happy birthday'. He always thinks it's for him. Mum's card was very touching with such weak handwriting. These anniversaries are a strain for her. The next big one is June 19. God knows what will be happening by then. I walked out to the bakery and bought two dozen hot cross buns. A good breakfast. We walked out with Samuel investigating Lidget Green. I steered clear of our usual haunt - the old cemetery.

My birthday visitors.

TV this afternoon. Bliss. Just flopped down in armchairs. Mum struggled out of bed at 5. I took some photographs. The others came here at 8. John and Janette last at 8:30. To the 'Fire Brigade' pub - awful Tetley's. Then at 9:30 to Mamma Mia's Pizzeria on Manningham Lane. The eight of us crammed around two very tiny tables. An excellent intimate dinner. Lashings of vino. Lynn appalled at my Bacchanalian attitude. ____. The Italian waiter came out with a small, round chocolate cake. All back to Club Street. I was violently sick on the garden wall. Went up to see Mum who was asleep and drugged. Downstairs I broke down and wept.

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Thursday April 4, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

Our holiday is here. Andrew Snowden came breezing in at 9, and got in the way a good deal. His mother came too, puffing on a Woodbine. She'll be wearing the trousers. Mick Thompson did the stocktake and gave us a £15 surplus. We escaped at 1 o'clock in a packed car. Samuel buried beneath piles of clothing. To Club St. We left Samuel with Dad and went to buy Easter eggs for Mum for her grandchildren. Dad enjoys playing with Samuel.

Rain later. We watched TV. The Queen distributing Maundy Money at Ripon today.

Sit on Mum's bed. We say very little to each other. We just look. I ger choked for something to say.

Tonight we just festered in front of the TV. We watched 'Minder' and scoffing on a box of chocolates. Robin Day is ill and so another chap did 'Question Time'. Sad. We made a bed up and slept on the floor.

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Wednesday April 3, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

To Club St this afternoon with Samuel's high chair. He had his tea there. Mum came down to see us and was propped up with pillows by the piano. Gone is that friendly amusing chatter. That lovable wit. She just sat and watched us. Sam kept making wild dashes to the kitchen and the cellar steps. He is happier in our enormous flat. 

Our last night (holiday looming). Marjorie. Quiet.

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Tuesday April 2, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

I am such a dreary old pillock. I do not ask for sympathy, but you really cannot expect me to pen flowing prose. Here I am only days away from the commencement of my fortieth decade and life seems so pointless and futile. If I was in Mum's shoes I'd be so bitter and resentful. How can we all come smiling out of all this. God knows. That's if God really cares. Sometimes I do wonder.

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