Sunday December 1, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

1st Sunday in Advent

Sam (1985).

Ding Dong Merrily on High, &c. December is here. Oh God what an awful month. I used to laugh when Hilda went on and on in days gone by about all the morbid anniversaries that this month held, but now we have our own, Dec 17, the day last year when Mum went into Airedale. Ally had a poor morning and grew worse as the day went on. No staff at lunch and so she joined me in the bar, and last until 2. Very pale. So weary. So little I can do. I made sausages and mash for lunch. Ally likes stodge. On the TV we watched The Count of Monte Cristo starring Richard Chamberlain and then the poor Prince of Wales going on and on about inner cities. I do hope he isn't doing too much. Samuel missed his footing on the stairs this morning and went for a Burton. Bruised now. He hasn't taken to his advent calendar which features Santa Claus. He kept jabbing Ally's hand saying 'no like, no like', but insisted on looking closely into the red, bearded face (Santa's, not Ally's). Mags and me tonight. Chris Wills called in and stood with Frank Munro. _____.

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Saturday November 30, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

St Andrew's Day

The Moorhouse Inn.

British Telecom! Don't make me bloody laugh. They connected us to a new appliance nearly two weeks ago and we are still waiting for a connection. St Andrew, &c. Sir Winston Churchill is 111. Quiet and cold. Ally is very bad with Tubby II. Heartburn and constant nausea. The mornings are better than the rest of the day, when she grows steadily worse. She reclined on the settee, looking white. Samuel says 'Mummy sick' and looks concerned. Poor boy. He doesn't understand. Playing with his toys he looked up and said: "don't want baby", and then repeated it. What must be going through his mind? I hugged him and said: "You will always be my baby". 

I told Margaret about the draconian 'No Booze Behind the Bar' ban. Much whispering with the customers, and some became heated on the subject. Some are far too willing to force alcohol on my bar staff and part with precious money. Weird. Pam Newton was very sweet about our baby news.

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Friday November 29, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

The Moorhouse.

Back to the delights of Leeds 11 and the Moorhouse Inn. Paul was very quiet and uncommunicative. No major incidents in our absence. No sudden deaths &c. LG called on Tuesday to ask when we would be back, re the bad stock, and we expected him today. The mad stock taker appeared at 10:30. We would have returned later if we had known. In fact we arrived at 8:30. Frosty, even snow. As I suspected, Paul's stock take showed an £80 deficit. So, up in the office we had an inquest and LG appeared. Much analysing and scratching of heads, and poking at old till rolls, &c. Ally lost her patience with them all. Here we do not have thieving staff - only chronic, ineffectual stock takers. Despite everything LG was in a good mood. Relief manager Paul pissed off to Rochdale where a manager, harassed and fed-up, pissed off this morning without so much as a 'kiss my arse' to the brewery. We told Audrey and the customers assembled this afternoon of our baby news. We only made such an early announcement because Ally looks obviously struck down with something, and we don't want rumours and speculation.

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Thursday November 28, 1985

Bessie in her kitchen.

 Chillandham Cross, Itchen Abbas SO21 1AS

Cold and frosty. Frank stayed at home until 10:30 to see us because his appearances have been fleeting since Sunday. Samuel takes to him like a duck to water. F & B have been pleasantly surprised by Samuel's behaviour. Bessie hasn't had to move glassware, china or ornaments this time. Ally is a Dixon and clashes with her mother, and is easily irritated by her and some of the things she does. I find it annoying. I want a peaceful life. We lunched on stodgy Fray Bentos 'individual' steak pies, and left at 3 o'clock. Andrew pranged his car on the way home for lunch and caused a five car pile-up. He cut his hand, only lightly, and looked shaken. Home at 7:30. Sam was an angel all the way home. Phoned Bessie and Dad. We had a Chinese take-away, and we three slept together in the same bed.

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Wednesday November 27, 1985

  Chillandham Cross, Itchen Abbas

Winchester.

Crisp and even, but not deep. By crisp I mean frost. To Winchester. More Yuletide shopping. It had to be done. Bessie joined us, but the mission proved fruitless and we returned later leaving Samuel with his 'Gammy', as he calls her. If people bought us the quality sort of presents that we buy them I would be very happy indeed. Sadly, I know only too well that the packs of socks from Otley Market (seconds) and Hai Karate aftershave are winging their way from Santa Claus to me. Frank in London all day, and all night in fact. Bessie is counting the days until Frank retires in Sept '87. ______. The trundle of food is giving Aly nightmares.

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Tuesday November 26, 1985

 Chillandham Cross, Itchen Abbas

Ally was collapsed by the fire looking like the young wife in 'David Copperfield'. Is she 'Dodie' or 'Dulcie' or something? However, we struggled out to look at the shops. Winchester doesn't seen troubled by mass unemployment. Every other shopper looks like a dowager viscountess. We spent a lot of money we do not possess and staggered back to the car. Frank nowhere to be seen tonight. He was at Rotary or the Round Table, or whatever. ___________. I'm reading a Sidney Sheldon book from Frank's study. A naughty little volume featuring lesbian rape in prison, &c.

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Monday November 25, 1985

 Chillandham Cross, Itchen Abbas

Chillandham Cross.

The mornings at Chillandham Cross never vary. We go downstairs to a groaning breakfast table, piled high, and always eat in the kitchen. Bessie has always half-cooked the bacon, &c, to prevent us from breakfasting simply on toast. Afterwards we went into town and poked around in the shops. Bessie came too. She is looking for curtain material featuring birds and flowers for the new lounge, which looks impressive. Chandelier lighting. Our Christmas present to them is going to be a Sam Chadwick print entitled 'Cloud Down Over Ingleborough' which will go well in the new west wing. Tonight the usual Edwardian-style dinner. But ridiculous because only Bessie and I were eating. A tin of soup would have done. This time Ally finds the smell of anything and everything offensive. This baby is going to be a little belter.

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Sunday November 24, 1985

 Waltergarth, Horton-in-Ribblesdale

Sunday next before Advent

The view from Waltergarth.

Dear Uncle Albert's 90th birthday. Dad has talked much about him this weekend. He says Uncle Albert worshipped Mum. _______. We had eggs and bacon, packed up and left for 11am. It is always touching leaving Horton. Dad blinking back tears in front of that old apple tree.________. Dad insists he cannot live alone. He has spoken of his parents and his father's love for his mother but complains that his father 'never told me what it was like to lose someone'. Grandfather of course was a man of few words who kept his emotions well buried. On the road we stopped at Watford Gap (or before) and ate in the restaurant.Steak and kidney pie, &c. Samuel sat at the table very grown up. The half hour break did Ally good. To Chillandham Cross for 5:30. We had cups of tea and I waited for a long time for Ally to tell her parents our good news. When she did the response was mediocre. No popping champagne corks. Frank, in his office, looked over his specs, and told Bessie that he already knew just by the look on Ally's face. We ate grilled steaks and watched 'Fawlty Towers' and retired to bed.  I borrowed a Sidney Sheldon book from Frank. Ally is having such a dreadful holiday. Weary, sick, &c. God knows how she will cope back at the pub , if we have a pub to go back to.

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Saturday November 23, 1985

 Waltergarth, Horton-in-Ribblesdale

Horton-in-Ribblesdale.

Too wet and cold to go out. Dad still suffering with a cold. Ally, Sam and I walked to the post office. Ally in her red Queen Mother-styled hat. Such fun. Afterwards, Ally slept by the fire and Dad and I had a few beers reminiscing again. He showed me Mum's brief 1984 diary - just bookings and birthdays, &c. We had roast chicken by candlelight. When Ally and Sam had gone to bed Dad and I watched a Jack Nicholson/Jessica Lange film. (The Postman Always Rings Twice?).
Naughty, but entertaining. Bed at 12. Dad has enjoyed having us here.

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Friday November 22, 1985

 Waltergarth, Horton-in-Ribblesdale BD24 OHW

Another historic day. A watershed in our tiny, though expanding family. To Settle. We had fish and chips in the car. Ally looking peaky. To Helwith Bridge for a pint, but Samuel (in his yellow suit) went on the rampage, and Dad dragged him outside. A cat was snuggling up to keep warm on our car bonnet. It was bitterly cold. Peacocks strutted around the car park, &c. Home for 2. We waited by the fire for 4:30, the magic hour when Ally phoned the medical centre. I was a nervous wreck. I dialled the wrong number and found herself speaking to someone from the water authority, and eventually got through to the Dr Goebbels-like secretary of Dr Sykes, who seemed to derive some enjoyment in delaying giving out the result. "Your sample is positive". Ally asked her to repeat it, and the secretary asked:  "aren't you pleased"? Of course we are bloody pleased. Much leaping around. So, July 16, 1986, it is. We phoned Lynn and Sue who were thrilled. Lynn came out with: "Oh what a miserable Christmas you are going to have". John wasn't home. Sue had hoped to borrow all Ally's maternity wear, but that is now scuppered. The two of us went to the Little House restaurant in Settle at 8. _______________________. A delicious dinner. Steaks, &c. I had Malibu ice-cream with an umbrella. We are still set on Clementine - "Clemmie". Back to see Dad at 10. Samuel was up and eating a banana. Dad enjoys Sam's company.

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Thursday November 21, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

Waltergarth, Horton-in-Ribblesdale.

Rose at 6:30. An early stock take at 8:30 with Ronnie Simpson, for a change. Paul turned up at 9 o'clock. It was a bad stock. We have already written off £154 with the returned OBB, but other losses put it up to £300. Sod them, anyway. We went away at 11 joking that this holiday might be a longer one that we at first thought. Paul says we'll have LG on the doorstep when we return. I don't give a monkeys. For Christ sake I want peace of mind and a quiet life. I might take that old Welsh witch up on one or two points and go to the country, Devon or Cornwall, and breed pedigree cats. We went to Horton via the Anchor at Gargrave, where Ally indulged in steak and kidney pie. I phoned Dad from here. He has a cold and is weary. To Horton for 2pm. A lovely crackling fire. Dad was tired, run down and emotional. He marks the weeks since mum's death on a calendar on the wall. 27 weeks. We told him our news, but it didn't seem to make an impact.I think he suspects we are a little premature in celebrating. Ally is also exhausted and done in. Dad and I went to the Crown Inn at 10pm when Ally and Sam took to their beds. Samantha Fox, with her huge tits, was on TV. We sampled the Theakston's. It was a dark walk home and we went and sat in his bedroom until 2am. He spoke of things I have never heard him talk about before. His national service days in the '50s. He looked over at his typewriter and said he is considering putting down all his thoughts and memories of his life with Mum to leave a last record of his life. He says he has volumes to say which will otherwise die with him. He spoke of his life insurance details and when he saw a look of concern on my face he said: "don't worry, I won't do anything silly." But added: "but I should have died with her". I encouraged him to write. It will do him good. _______.

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