Monday November 4, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

I woke up feeling well and truly whacked. Ice-cold tummy, weak knees, &c. Slumped around all afternoon like a dying man. Ally thought I was giving one of my Olivier routines, but I was genuinely knackered and in some pain. I am blaming the sausage rolls from the freezer which I foolishly consumed last night whilst glancing at 'Mountbatten' by (Philip) Ziegler. Was violently sick at 3pm and thereafter took to my bed until 8 o'clock when I went below to see poor Ally, who was really good, and realised the gravity of my situation.

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Sunday November 3, 1985

22nd Sunday after Trinity

Ally better. Graham John Dixon is 30. Thomas Elmer was christened at Pudsey Parish Church. After a roast beef lunch and 'Eastenders' omnibus we went to Pudsey. Jill invited us last week to the after party. Eleanor had been invited to the ceremony because Hilda says that auntie has fallen hook, line and sinker for the vicar of St Oswald's Guiseley, who conducted the ritual. Cousin Stephen came in with his 2 year-old daughter, Gemma. Back at 6 to open up. Chris Mawson started work. My God, he's an old 18.

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Saturday November 2, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds, LS11 5NQ

Another hideous day. Ally can be so very unreasonable at times. Elizabeth worked tonight. Ally didn't come down. _____________. Upstairs after closing I devoured 2 Cornish pasties and watched a late film. Ally and Sam were asleep together and so I moved him to his own suite of rooms.

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Friday November 1, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

One shit of a day. Ally was in a foul mood from the start and I was feeling hellish. Then L. Gledhill phoned to say the barrel I returned recently is out of specification, whatever that means, and off he went leaving me hanging in mid-air. I bashed around in the bar threatening resignation. Blood, sweat, toil and tears, &c. We walked to the local 'play group' but they have an eight year waiting list. Poor Samuel will have pubic hair and tattoos before he can join. 

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Thursday October 31, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

Hallowe'en

All Hallows Eve. The new girl Elizabeth Melvin started. She will pick it up, I do suppose. All Crimplene and no finger nails. She lives with her boyfriend and 15 month-old daughter, Clare Louise, and saving to buy a house. She will only take £10 a week from us. In contrast the Daily Telegraph has a stunning photo on the front page of the Waleses waltzing around an Australian ballroom. The princess wearing a priceless emerald and diamond necklace , but as a headband. It is reported to be a gift from HM. Diana never fails to stun the public with her little fashions coups. The Royal Yacht has sailed into Grenada. Isn't that the place the US invaded a couple of years ago at the invitation of the government? I have given up on John Updike. I only ever read exceptional works of fiction, and The Witches of Eastwick isn't one. Don't get me wrong. It will be hailed as a 20th century classic. Twentieth century writers are few and far between. N. Coward, E. Waugh, G. Greene, D. Du Maurier, C. Cookson, J. Collins, &c. (That's enough authors -Ed.)

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Wednesday October 30, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn Leeds LS11 5NQ

Dad went off at lunchtime to Settle via Guiseley and then stonemason. He has withdrawn £280 from his TSB account to pay for the stone. He has of course provided for this. I have been feeling very low. I could scream and bang my head against a wall. What is the bloody point of our existence? Ally phoned Bessie to enquire about the proposed weekend there with Lynn & Dave. Oh, no. The weekend in question is the Rose Growers dinner in Jersey and they'll be away. Never mind. Bessie was gloomy. Andrew and Lorraine have announced that they are buying a house and setting up home together in the New Year - a union sealed only by an engagement ring. F & B are both livid and say they are "old fashioned". Odd, eh? They were not old fashioned in the past with other family events _________ (sensitive redaction). I do not mean to be unkind. Just Ally and I tonight. A women's choir came in. I recognised a face. It was Margaret Edwards from my old Benton Park days. What a frumpy thing she looks, but on chatting with her she most certainly isn't. 

Other news: An inquiry into the recent spy trial has been ordered. Less said. The future Sir Lester Piggott had his last race yesterday. He has ridden 3,349 winners. Charles Douglas-Home, editor of 'The Thunderer' died yesterday. He was a nephew of Sir Alec Douglas-Home, and was heir presumptive to the heir apparent to the Earldom (of Home), and a first cousin of John, Earl Spencer, MVO.

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Tuesday October 29, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn Leeds LS11 5NQ

Uncle Peter.

We discuss the proposed movements for our holiday next month. Lynn and Dave want a weekend without the children at Winchester and so we suggest Nov 22/23. They will ask Audrey if she can cope with the three. I think that Dad would manage better. The Christmas programme has also cropped up. Dreaded Christmas. The first one without the woman who was Christmas epitomised. Mum was Santa Claus, the Christmas fairies, and the Queen's message rolled into one. Dad has said he wants to come here because he can be more useful while we are working. Lunch was busier. Ally and Dad stood in the bar. Someone came in and remarked on Dad's youthful looks. Mum and Dad were always the youngest looking grandparents. Uncle Peter appeared and we all had a morbid conversation about graves, Uncle Albert's death and Uncle John Wilson's tenure as president of Pudsey Conservative Club, &c. He asked whether we selected the spot for Mum's grave because he thought it was in a strange place, tucked away in a corner. Mum, of course, would have wanted a quiet spot. I do not think Dad and Peter are on the same wave length at all. News: the £5m Cyprus spy trial has resulted in a man's acquittal. Deaths include Lord Davis of Leek, a Leftie. Births include a son to Alexander and Joanna Haddo (Earl & Countess?), so a grandson for Lord Aberdeen & Temair. The Queen and Duke of Edinburgh arrived in Bridgetown yesterday. It that Barbados? My geography of the Caribbean isn't good.

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Monday October 28, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn Leeds LS11 5NQ

We woke very much regretting our late night with young Booth. To Morrison's and then back for 11:30 (Maureen opened up) and found Dad at the bar. He was expected but was earlier than anticipated. Samuel's face on seeing 'Gan Gan' was a picture. How magnetic he is to children. V. quiet at lunch. Dad and Ally stood leaning on the bar as I worked behind it. The Egans flew to "España" at dawn yesterday. Few customers. Only the dour Kentish man, bearded Brian, who ranted on and on about Stalin's daughter. Plus the man who drinks 'Rusty Nail' cocktails. Poor Dad - how brave he is. At the mention of the headstone he looks so weary and mutters: "five months now, Michael." She has been gone now longer than the entire length of her illness. Hard to believe. Dad was tired tonight and retired at 10. We did pool sandwiches but few turned out to play pool and so it was a waste of time. We have succeeded in the space of 12 months to kill our tap room stone dead. To bed at 12 with sandwiches. I am sick of John Updike.

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Sunday October 27, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

21st Sunday after Trinity

British Summer Time Ends

Up early. Samuel confused by the time difference. Pottered around and went to Guiseley cemetery at 10 to look at the stone. It was a jolt. Ally wanted to weep but held her composure. Samuel played dropping stones int the flower bowl. Mum would like this.  The stone reads:

                                                     In Loving Memory of

                                                               NORA

                                               Beloved wife of Lawrence Rhodes

                                                      Born 2 January 1935

                                                      Died 18 May 1985

On to Lynn's. No Lynn. Dave in overalls. Dad and Charlotte Nora were in the garden. It was cold. Janette was at Maria's collecting the children and John was working. We went back to Leeds for 11:30. The Leeds Marathon was running. Chicken for lunch. Visited the Sandersons afterwards. They are in a state of refurbishment and working on the lounge. Interviewed candidates. Four in all, but only one suitable. Elizabeth Melvin (?), 26. A boy called Chris is coming tomorrow at 7:30. He's only 18 though. Sue and Pete came here at 7 dropping Dave B at the Dragonara Hotel where he's attending a function. Black tie 'do' &c. Peter always refers to David as 'Shortie'. The Nasons didn't stay long enough and left at 10. We sat up until about 2:30 with Gary. It was his last night. A lonely lad despite his wild, exhausting social life.

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Saturday October 26, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

LG came on Thursday. I am forgetful. He was out of sorts and shot me down about the piano. 'Can't afford one', he said. When he sampled the ale from my cloudy barrel and blamed me for the bad management of it, which was stupid of him, and advised me not to return a single drop. Silly bugger. It was all Egans, Egans, Egans tonight. I did the parachute and the blind Irish pilot routine this afternoon, with the help of Margaret. Terry almost shit himself. Ally recovering but remains weak and washed out. Samuel, thank God, is untouched by the malady. Gary and I worked tonight. His penultimate shift. I placed an advert for staff in tonight's Evening Post and it attracted several calls. We are interviewing tomorrow. Upstairs at midnight. Saw a marvellous old film, Bette Davis/Claude Rains, &c. British Summer Time ends. We have an extra hour longer in bed. I want to go see Mum's stone tomorrow.

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Friday October 25, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

Ally and Audrey both have red, running noses. Margaret's celebrations go on. Sandwiches and cakes tonight and floral tributes from around the globe. The Egans were quaking about the coming flight to Spain. Margaret and I joked about making a parachute for Terry at lunch tomorrow. This evening Ally stayed above. Weak knees, &c. She watched a programme on the suspicious demise of Marilyn Monroe. The Kennedys were behind it. Phoned Dad. Mum's gravestone is now erected. What can one say. _________.

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