Tuesday August 9, 1983

 Linthorpe Hotel, Middlesbrough

We were in bed until 10:30 but didn't go down until after 12. Received a letter from Mum - a nice letter. She says she fell and sprained her ankle in Settle and cried all the way back to Horton. Poor Mumsie. We also received a cheque from Ken Gilbertson for our travelling expenses here, but not for the return visit to the clinic. Can't complain. £30. Went down and made eggs and bacon after writing letters to Sue and Lynn. The kitchen was in uproar after a blackout. We went on foot into town looking at antique shops and baby shops en route. We looked at the shops - all equally impressive, if not better than Leeds. Had a drink at the Masham, a Bass pub. Looked at the shops until 5:30. In Mothercare Ally was in hysterics trying on a pair of baggy trousers. Went to Ossie's for a drink, and then the Wig and Pen. Frightfully expensive. At 6:30 to the Mama Vittoria Pizzeria on Linthorpe Road and spent £18. We had prawn cocktails and steak Diane, &c. Back in a taxi to the hotel where we sat in the lounge watching Mags and Peter at work.We went up to bed at 9:30. Wrote a reply to Mama and started a new Ken Follett novel 'The Man from St Petersburg'.

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Monday August 8, 1983

New Moon

Linthorpe Hotel, Middlesbrough

The green phlegm continues. I am going about the place sounding like a consumptive. A telephone engineer came to install a bright yellow phone. Francis O'Brien, the chap who interviewed us in May, arrived at 11. He fixed his eyes on Ally's bump and refused to take his gaze from it. It's just a call to see how we are getting on and to see if we have any problems. We enthuse and say nothing has put us off. He went away after 10 minutes. He is a Uriah Heap type. JT says O'Brien is 'a first class c*nt', and Mags agreed. I went into the vault for the afternoon, stone dead. Roy came to see me and says O'Brien must have something up his sleeve. I asked if that something is a horrible, unpleasant something and Roy responded: 'Oh, no'. We later did our washing. I made fishcakes and chips, and Ally made herself a chicken curry. Roy saw me frying and I made something for him and William too. Marie was running around excitedly because Gaskins, the local nightclub, is at this very moment a blazing inferno, and she tried to persuade Charlie to take her to spectate, but he declined.  In the 'vault' tonight. The pool competition has fallen through and only a few locals appeared. Big Ron Perry acted as my minder and helped with the ashtrays and glasses. Back in the top bar I bought him a drink. The cook's mother died suddenly today so breakfast will be a shambles, says Roy with a grin. Tomorrow's our day off.

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Sunday August 7, 1983

 10th Sunday after Trinity

Linthorpe Hotel, Middlesbrough

    The Linthorpe.

Feeling better. I found myself in the 'vault' this morning thinking about Ally. It's shocking that we went back to Bradford at great expense to give blood, only to have it spilled and lost by the NHS. However, the authorities here were so kind it did compensate. Marie went to Chesterfield. I set to and cleaned out the deep fat fryer. A hideously messy, laborious job. Afternoon in the vault and evening in lounge 2. Afterwards Roy bought piles of fish and chips for everyone and we made sandwiches sitting at the bar. We chatted with Marie. The first pub they had was the Duncan in Leeds, then they went to Carlisle with John Smiths, and then to Manchester, then Rochdale, and four years ago here to Middlesbrough. She also lived in Headingley and worked on Low Lane at Horsforth. She drinks Bacardi and coke. We went up to bed. I have discarded the novel I was reading. It's a hideous thing.

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Saturday August 6, 1983

 Up at 7 looking and feeling awful. Everybody says so. It was daft of me to stay up until 1. The others can be nocturnal because they don't have to get up at dawn like me here. No sign of Roy or Marie until luncheon. I 'bottled up' and collected rubbish in the garden. JT joined us for breakfast but Ally and I escaped before he tackled his fried egg sandwich. Randy old Margaret says she likes the way we work and so too does Charlie, and when Charlie Poole likes something it must be good. Roy was up late and grumpy. He and Marie went off to Redcar Races with the family leaving JT, Dave and I running the bar. The place was full of revellers from a wedding all clamouring for drink and hurling abuse. At 3pm we had to make the same exit from the bar as we did last night. We were still clearing up after 4. Ally was busy in the kitchen. She made a steak dinner which we ate after 4:30. Roy's daughter, Marnie, came to see us and showed us a bundle of new coloured socks she's bought for her Chesterfield sojourn. For a 14 year-old Marie is very grown up. A busy night, but we retired early. Roy went up before us, and without a fuss. I think he was knackered.

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Friday August 5, 1983

 Linthorpe Hotel, Middlesbrough

Feel shocking. A hideous throat. Green phlegm continues. Ally now has a baby bulge, a delightful lump. She sits and talks to it. She insists that a person, albeit small, is swelling inside her womb, and he/she must surely be listening. _________.

A man came to mend the glass washing machine and I had to look after him for the afternoon. Back to the normality of lounge 2. We worked like fury so much so that at 10:30 when people were clamouring for more, he asked us to walk away from the bar and hide until the mob had dispersed. It was like making an exit from the stage.The crush was made all the worse by a 'Toga Party' and a stag party. Afterwards all the staff sat and slurped. Kieran is an aggravating youth who teases in a persistent manner. He says I look like a surfer. Why? JT was pissed as a fart. He does a club act as John O'Rea. Hilarious. They all sat in the bar until 6am but Ally and I went up at 1. 

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Thursday August 4, 1983

 The 83rd birthday of Queen Elizabeth The Queen Mother

Queen Mum: born in taxi.

May God's blessings be upon the old Queen. Roy, over his morning tea, said that she must owe her longevity to her mother Queen Mary. I coughed, but said nothing. Sipped more tea. Roy, reading a tabloid paper, announced that rapists, child molesters, and Coronation Street stars should be flogged and then hanged.  I have a bad throat. Hoarse. Coughing up green phlegm. To the vault all day. Old Eddie, who is only 60 but looks much older, says his late uncle won the VC but always refused to talk about it. Eddie didn't appreciate this modesty and was irked by it. The VC is now housed in the Green Howard's museum in York. News: saw the Queen Mother waving from the balcony of Clarence House. She was joined for lunch by her daughters, the Prince and Princess of Wales, and Lady Sarah Armstrong-Jones. The Sun newspaper announced that the Queen Mum was born in an ambulance in London on this day in 1900. It has long been a mystery as to where HM was brought into the world. The reference books always stated St Paul's Walden, Hertfordshire, but in 1980 this was revealed to be wrong, and at the time London was suggested as the birthplace. Lord Strathmore was fined for not registering his daughter in the 6 weeks period allowed, and when he did so he gave false information. Ally phoned Sister Matthews who, to our horror, says she's dropped Ally's blood sample, and tells Ally to have another NTD screening. We went to Middlesbrough and had this done. They will forward the report to Bradford Royal.

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Wednesday August 3, 1983

 Linthorpe Hotel, Middlesbrough

Dave G is 29 and Janette 19 .

We pottered about in our room until 10:45. 

We went down to the bar and looked at it from the public side. Had a lager with Sean, Mike, and Kieran. An old man engaged Ally in conversation on the subject of the other Sam Smiths houses in the locality. We decided to stroll round looking at them. The Cambridge and the Master Cooper. Both quiet this afternoon. The manager at the Master Cooper is an ex York City footballer. Tonight we worked in lounge 2. Marie, I have decided, is like a Valkyrie.

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Tuesday August 2, 1983

 Awakened by the alarm at 7:13 but lay smiling to myself knowing I do not have to get up. Linger in bed. Can we call our son Samuel when we work for Samuel Smith? We like Oliver too, but Oliver Smith is the chairman of the brewery. So it will look like we are crawling which ever name we go for. At 12 we went down and sat with our lunch at the bar laughing at JT winding up Mike. It's a local pastime. We went to the bank and withdrew £30 and posted a few postcards. Back in our suite we wrote letters to our mothers which took an hour, and I lay on the bed dropping grapes into my mouth. On TV saw the dreadful Kim Wilde performing. She's built like a cart horse. We haven't heard much news. I enjoy being cut off. JT banged on our door at 8 and asked if we wanted to go out into Middlesbrough with him. We sent him packing. Ww will go with him one day, but not on our first day off. Mags says JT has thyroid trouble. At 9:30 we went to the Chinese take-away. Saw Roy for the first time today and he thoroughly approved of us staying in bed on our day off. 

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Monday August 1, 1983

Mags.

 Down as usual at 7:30 to the serenade from the fire alarm. Whilst bottling up Roy asked about Mike Walker's visit and says that Ally could, if she wished, have baby in a private nursing home following signing up for BUPA. Went to the bank for £10 of 2p pieces. I did the lounge bar with Carol and Mike until 3. The place was dead. Rain. I do not like a quiet bar. Feel like a goldfish. Ally was in the kitchen making sandwiches and finished at 2. The weekly rota reveals that tomorrow is our day off. An old boy in the bar left his copy of The Sun - the front page reveals that the Duchess of Kent has cancelled more engagements and departed early from a concert on Saturday. Poor soul. What can be wrong? Sleep. Bath. Vault 7-11. No bother. Most of the customers are insane and jibber away incoherently. A large, ageing hippie woman, still dressed in 'flower power' garb 20 years on, sat with a pint doing the Guardian crossword. At 11 I went back to civilisation and joined the others in the lounge bar. Ally looked beautiful, and a customer told her so. Bob, the lounge bar Casanova, said he'd never seen a barmaid look so fresh from start to finish, and admired her crinkly brown dress. You know the one I mean. To bed at 12. Mags and Marie were squabbling. Photos of Matthew arrived and I glued them in our album. Had coffee in bed.

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Sunday July 31, 1983

 9th Sunday after Trinity

    Linthorpe Hotel, Middlesbrough

Margaret: buttocks.

Felt not too bad and went about my morning business quite unaided. Roy didn't surface until late. I went about the garden picking up debris from last night. Used contraceptives. Yes, you name it and I found it. 87p in coins scattered around the lawns. At 12 I was put in the vault (the back bar) - not my favourite place, and stood until 2 with the alcoholic OAPs. Marie's mother, the nymphomaniac Margaret, keeps coming in to molest me and drain the Diet Pils lager. She pulled a few pints and grabbed at my buttocks. She is 53 but has retained all her urges. The Barneses Sunday lunch smells divine. We had steak and switched on the TV, for the first time since our arrival here, and watched a noisy film Dunkirk. We switched off and slept until after 6. A moderate Sunday evening. Heavy rain deterred people using the garden. We had just one drink after closing and went up to bed but couldn't sleep. All the late night films are starring David Niven. His autobiography was ghastly and put me off the man.

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Saturday July 30, 1983

The Linthorpe Hotel, Middlesbrough

 The burglar alarm sounded at 7:30am even before I had left the bedroom. I think it must be Roy mucking around. His sense of fun is legendary. Feel groggy. I did my bottling up and then had a large cooked breakfast at 8:30. Ally sat in the office and spent the afternoon with Mags, Marie's sister, in the kitchen. I worked in the bar with Barry and Carol until 3:30. Up to bed at closing and found Ally asleep on top of the bed reminiscent of Queen Victoria's effigy in the Royal Mausoleum at Frogmore. Yesterday we signed up for some life insurance making each other beneficiaries in the event of our deaths. The lump sum payable is four times our annual salary. We also joined the Sam Smith's pension fund but it doesn't kick in until Oct 1, and BUPA. My grogginess had passed by lunchtime. We ate cheese sandwiches outside beneath a large, dark tree. Time is flying so rapidly it's frightening. It was the usual riot tonight. A mob came in who were en route to a 'bad taste' fancy dress party. Everyone dressed in ridiculous 'loud' clothes, &c. At 12 Roy, JT, some others and me, walked on to the party. Roy in shorts and school cap. Quite a hideous party. Fourteen year-olds throwing up everywhere. Not a glass in the place. I stood sharing JT's flagon of cider until he staggered off at 2. I lingered until 3 and then walked home leaving Roy there with his Jim Beam. Ally had only just retired.

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Friday July 29, 1983

 I was hoping it might rain today to spoil Maria's wedding but alas it proved hot and warm. At least she can no longer dishonour our family by using our august surname. They are going to honeymoon at Molly and Jim's and Janette says she is going to spy on them.

Maria & Alex.

Up at 5am and off on our way back to Middlesbrough. Ally collected her iron tablets from Boots and bought some red dungarees. Taxi to the Linthorpe for 10. We were back to work for 11. Mike Walker, from the brewery, arrived at 2:30 and we signed lots of papers. It was a quiet lunch and a busy night. Ally looked cute in her red dungarees. Kieran asked if she was here to clean the windows. All the staff sat after closing and I bought everyone a drink (£8.50). Roy and the lads went off to Mandy's disco in town and I went up to join Ally, who retired at 12. Dave and Mike borrowed my shoes to go dancing. Will I ever get them back? Hot night.

Red dungarees.

News: The Penrith by-election was a disaster. Whitelaw's 15,000 majority in June was slashed to 500 or so. David Niven has snuffed it. Princess Michael of Kent's marriage has been recognised by the Pope, and they are to have it blessed by (Cardinal) Hume. Why was her first marriage annulled? 

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Thursday July 28, 1983

 Slept late. Had a leisurely breakfast which dragged on into the afternoon. We walked up to Saint Street Clinic, Ally in her pretty flowing red dress, to see Sister Matthews, and a doctor, Asian. She had a spina bifida blood test and a prescription for iron which they say she desperately needs. She hasn't put on weight, and is calculated as being 16 weeks pregnant. We walked to a bus and went into Bradford where I bought her tea in Rackham's (prawn sandwiches and orange juice and a biscuit for £3!) The place was full of old ladies all with blue rinses. Bought Ally a blue t-shirt. Later we went to the doctor to collect the prescription for iron. Bought corn on the cob and lamb chops and had a large evening meal at 6.Watched the news. We have lost touch with the world since going to Middlesbrough. Is Harold Wilson a viscount or a life baron? Watched TV until 10 and  slept like logs.

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Wednesday July 27, 1983

John, Ally, Lynn, Dave, & Janette.

     Up at 5:30am and we crept to the kitchen and made bacon and eggs. Jan, the cook, came waddling in looking surprised. A taxi took us to Middlesbrough station. A bright, sunny morn. In Bradford for 9:30. Mary gave us a coffee and was pleased to see us. Miss Whincup, who hasn't been well in the heat, went off to York with a niece. We had a large lunch and went to Guiseley for 3:30 and spent the evening with the Bakers. Sue and Pete are at Horton but John & Janette joined us for fish and chips and we contributed £5 to a kitty for cans of ale and Martini. Janette has had her hair cut off and dyed. It looks awful. She told us details of Maria's wedding. The garden at Lochans is to be decorated with fairy lights on Friday and Catherine is to attend on her mother, &c._______. Janette was tired. John had made her climb Ingleborough this morning, and it was such a strain that she cried when nearing the summit. John is rapidly becoming one of those boring fitness fanatics, and he sat tonight in his shorts, jogging gear. Dave brought us home after midnight.

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Tuesday July 26, 1983

 Roy and Marie went off to Redcar Races. Ally spent the day in the kitchen. I phoned Lynn to say we will be over to see her for tea tomorrow. Spoke to Mum who told me Marie and Alex's wedding is fixed for Friday in Stranraer. John's divorce papers have arrived from Edinburgh. Meanwhile, he and Janette are at Waltergarth scaling the Three Peaks. He is glum. Janette says Alex is _______. That's a gas. Roy, back from the races and in a mood, snaps at everyone tonight and flies like an angry Dobermann at James (the red headed barman). I washed the glasses at closing and took until 11:15 which was something of a record. Another barman, Barry, has found a job in London and leaves on Sunday. He will get £22 a day cash in hand labouring and claim dole as well. Ron borrowed my electric razor again and disappeared with my aftershave lotion. He must have found a woman. We went up to bed at 11:30. Two days off! Yippee! _____.

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NB: I am struggling to believe that I would have ever allowed someone to use my electric razor. Ugh.

Monday July 25, 1983

 Full Moon

Marie is cooking something which makes Ally feel sick. This afternoon I had my first awkward customer. A bearded, red headed man called Eric, horribly pissed, disliked the way I walked about jangling the pub keys at closing time at 3pm. I was assigned to the vault at 7pm and the drooling Eric was asleep face down on the bar. No amount of trying by me to awaken him worked and when he finally regained consciousness he spat on the floor and staggered out of the door. The place was full of pissed, senile OAPs. No music, and only the clicking of the balls on the pool table. One ageing hippie was singing old 'Beach Boy' numbers. Roy didn't like the way I allowed a pool game to go on until 10:45, but fell silent when he saw it was his son, William, playing.

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Sunday July 24, 1983

 8th Sunday after Trinity

JT (right)

Eric, one of Roy's friends, wandered into our room at 7am with not a stitch on. Completely naked. Oh we laughed. Later in the bar he told Ally, very loudly, that she looks better in bed. Great fun. Spent the morning with JT and Peter scrubbing and washing in the kitchen. Grease everywhere. A Sir Richard Attenborough look-alike, who stayed over, sat drinking tea and blowing cigarette smoke over me. A disgusting habit. Roy and Marie were also big smokers until 2 years ago. The poor bugger became so short of breath. It is such a treat when the bar closes at 2pm on Sunday. Off until 7. We ate steaks and baked potatoes and snatched a few hours sleep. I went down to the cellar to fiddle with the gas bottles, changed some light bulbs. Roy is very good introducing us gradually to things so not to confuse. He says that by the end of 8 weeks we will be well schooled in pub management.

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Saturday July 23, 1983

Roy: cowboy

 American Day at the Linthorpe with bunting, a band, and masses of people. After breakfast Ally and I decorated the barbecue area with appropriate coloured streamers and then took refuge behind the bar for the duration. Roy wearing a large cowboy hat throughout. Tonight was chaotic. We were mobbed. After closing at 11pm a party commenced for the staff and the usual CID retainers. It went on until 5am. I did not drink to excess, but by the end of the night I was stained from head to foot in beer and muck. We played a boat race in the bar which involved throwing a lot of ale around. I danced with Marie's mum Margaret, who asked why we are having a baby so soon. She went face down after 10 Diet Pils lagers and was taken off to bed. Kieran and JT were in drag. JT was Mary Pickford, the American sweetheart of the silent screen. Hilarious. Much revelry. Ally went up to bed at about 4 and I followed later. Roy was pissed on brandy and ginger ale and was smashing up the place. Raucous. To bed at 5 with a cheese and pickle sandwich. Marie's sister, Mags, very much like Christine Braithwaite.

American Day.

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Friday July 22, 1983

In the bar at the 'Linnie'.

 Hideously busy, but a great experience. Roy and Marie think about Ally and attempt to look after her. What I am attempting to say is that they show consideration. Ally spent the morning in the kitchen and I went on a garden tidying mission.48,000,000 crisp packets, &c. Roy is a bluff, old martinet, but very kind hearted beneath that exterior. Everything he says and does is aimed at helping us in our future career. Every morning as I leave our room the burglar alarm sounds off. It doesn't do this for anybody else. The cook, Jan (who looks more like an Emerald, says Ally) panics every time thinking that the place is burning down and she runs from the kitchen wailing like a banshee. Tomorrow is the Linthorpe 'American Day' extravaganza and the place is done up with US bunting and a stage has been erected in the garden for a band. Steve, the odd job man, is on drums evidently. The atmosphere here is great. Everyone such good friends.

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Thursday July 21, 1983

The Linthorpe.

 Roy is half dead all day and lays flat out sleeping at every available opportunity. He is such a character. Susan is 24 today and after a busy morning at the Linthorpe we phoned our birthday wishes to Guiseley. A pay phone, shovelling in the 10p pieces. Afterwards we sat outside with a drink on the wall and went up to bed to sleep. We were introduced to a barman, John Thatcher or 'JT' as he is known by all. A humorous, red-faced bespectacled guy with an hilariously depraved disposition.  He brings cheer to the place and lowers the tone considerably. To bed early. Done in. 

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