Sunday April 6, 1980

_. Easter Day

This is supposed to be a continuation of the previous entry. For most of the night I was out of it, on another planet. It's all very vague. The shaving foam orgy must have brought me round. We spent some time down in the cellar, me wearing Susan's underskirt. Dave L had a whale of a time. My last sighting of him was as he drove down Club Street smeared in toothpaste. He had passed the last few hours in a mound of soil from a broken plant pot under the piano.

Ally left at 10 to go to the Belfry. How she did that I will never know. We survivors cleared the debris. I sat under the dining table drinking gin and lime. Johnny joined me, with a glass of water, just because he wanted to 'drink me under the table'. Some folk danced around the rotating washing pole thing in the garden, in maypole style.

From Bradford we drove to Guiseley depositing the lads at various spots en route to Pine Tops. I stood around for a while, looking pained, and eventually gave in and went to bed. Maria and the children arrived and the noise was too hideous for one so delicate. Baby Catherine slept for a couple of hours in Mum's bed, and looked like a little peach.

Ally finished her shift and came over at 3. We went over to Ilkley, roof down, and had ice creams and bottles of pop on the moor. She did an evening shift from 6:30.

I helped JPH eat his Easter eggs.

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Saturday April 5, 1980

_. A warm, sunny day. I was no sooner out bed when Ally carried me off to the White Cross where we were joined outside in the sun by Sue, Pete, Chippy, Gus, Johnny and Dave W. My first drink was a pint of pils lager with a double whisky chaser, at Johnny's instigation. This set the tone for the remainder of the day. From the Cross we all went to the Junction in Otley where we stood drinking on a busy street corner. Afterwards Ally and I collected a few bottles of wine and went to Rue Club to inflate balloons, and hide various items of precious Dixon memorabilia, in readiness for the party. Spent hours in the bath ______. The evening is very much lost to oblivion. To Mucky Willie's in Lidget Green where we were joined by Dave L and Tim and Jill. The assembled crowd toasted me at 9:20pm, the time of my birth, and afterwards I made a short speech, the contents of which evade me. Lynne Bateson bought me an [Easter] egg. Back to Club St for 11. It was a roaring success. Pete's friend Ken brought a camera and blue movies were screened on the chimney breast, for the survivors.  A German girl performing with what looked like an Alsatian dog brought some gasps from some of the more sensitive party goers. The night ended in an orgy of shaving foam and squirty cream. Sarah and Carol J chose to arrive at about 1am at a very crucial moment in the porno screening. Words fail me.

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Friday April 4, 1980

_. Good Friday

A sunny day. Mum remained in bed, citing illness. Is she perhaps in her menopause? Is 45 a little early, perhaps? How should I know?

We peeled the roof from the Spitfire and, after the traditional hot cross buns, we went to the Commercial which was busy but lacking in atmosphere. This was always on the cards following Annie and Ron's departure. From here we went to the Drop, which resembled the Albert Mausoleum at Frogmore. Then onto the Ings to join Sue and a band of girls from Wendy Wools. I can see why Sue enjoys life so much at Wendy Wools - they are all tarred with the same brush and are insane.

Ally dropped me at home and went to the Belfry. I had a pleasant night at the White Cross, where old friends are gathered for the start of the Bank Holiday binge. Revellers include: Johhny, Gus, Chippy, Phil Goya, Debs, Michael Dixon, &c. I recall a disgraceful groping session with Jill, Naomi's live-in companion. Back at home Mama is still in her bed. We watched a Hitchcock film.  Ally appeared at about 11 in readiness for the clock to chime midnight and herald the start of my 25th birthday. Dear God.

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Thursday April 3, 1980

_. Mum and Dad have severed diplomatic relations and the atmosphere at home is far from deliriously happy. I arranged to go out with Ally and sat underneath the heavy, menacing cloud awaiting her arrival. She arrived after 9 and Jim and Margaret walked in at the same time. Jim goes into hospital on Tuesday to have the varicose veins torn from his ailing legs.

Ally and I went out for a drink for the first time since out trip to Cracoe on March 23. Had a couple of drinks with Sue and Janet Simon at the Fox [they were drinking cherry brandy at £1.70 a round!], and then to the White Cross. It was like a scene from the Crimean War. Chaos and maladministration throughout, and we only just made it for last orders at the bar.

Back at home the house continued frosty and dull.

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Wednesday April 2, 1980

_. A slight headache today which I put down to the plethora of wine last night. At lunchtime I found solace in the City library. I emerged blinking like a mole half an hour later with 'Prince Henry, Duke of Gloucester' by Noble Frankland, a new biography of the semi-obscure uncle of the Queen. Back at the office Derek Naylor spotted the book on my desk. He winced and cringed and looked as though he might vomit. It's funny how the subject of royalty can bring on such violent emotions. Reading it tonight I couldn't help thinking that I've read it all before. John and I were in Windsor in June, 1974, when the duke conveniently died, and we watched his funeral procession through the town.

Frost and ice in the atmosphere at Pine Tops tonight. Mum and Dad spent the afternoon in Masham and had a difference of opinion over something which disrupted relations for the remainder of the evening. Lynn and Dave came to tea, but the frost didn't thaw.  Lynn however was just as chirpy. Lynn and Dave go to Stranraer tomorrow to spend Easter with John and Maria. L left a bunch of fivers with Mum to hand over to me on my birthday.

Dad is very brooding and irritating when he choses to be. He is very like his father.

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Tuesday April 1, 1980

_, This evening I ventured to Lidget Green  for dinner with Ally. She concocted a spectacular lasagne which we ate with her very dry Beaujolais.  Spent the evening taping music for the party on Saturday. Ally sat reading 'Lady Chatterley's Lover', but has yet to find the naughty bits. I left at 10:15 and was home in an hour. It was All Fools' Day today.

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Monday March 31, 1980

_. Sarah saw Jacq in the Regent, without Paul, on Saturday. _________.

A night at home with the family gathered around the television. Saw Donald Sutherland and Elliot Gould in a film 'Spies'.

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Sunday March 30, 1980

_. Palm Sunday

Sunny day. Auntie Mabel came this afternoon with cousin Jackie, who passed her driving test last week. Jackie is very thin and like a Kampuchean refugee. They stayed to lunch. Roast beef, Yorkshire puddings, &c, and left at 6:30. We watched 'Why Didn't They Ask Evans' , a play by Agatha Christie in ITV. Francesca Annis playing Lady Frances Derwent, an aristo-sleuth. Good, but stretched out over three hours. Mum and Dad went out to the Birch Tree at Wilsill. They rarely venture out at night but Dad has an aversion to Agatha Christie. He paced up and down the sitting room like a caged lion, glowering at the TV screen and bearing a menacing expression. They returned at 11. Ally stayed the night.

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Saturday March 29, 1980

_. Ally came here at 1:30. Still feeling unwell she collapsed on the sofa and slept until after 5. We, the conscious ones, watched the Grand National on the BBC. Ben Nevis won at 40-1, and only four horses completed the course. In the small family flutter held for the event Ally won £1.50 [I placed the bet for her and she snoozed through it all unaware of her great good fortune].

We had a very important debate regarding Walter, the man who delivers fruit and veg to us every Saturday. Does he wear eye make-up? I say he most certainly does, but am outnumbered here.

Tonight Ally and I ate with Mum and Dad and we watched TV afterwards. When did we last stay at home on a Saturday evening? I bet it was almost a year ago. Up until 1am watching a Trevor Howard epic.

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Friday March 28, 1980

_. Ally went to the Belfry tonight very much against my advice. Lynn and Dave came for tea and  were angry at me for allowing her go to work so soon after been ill. I did explain that Ally is her own woman, and does exactly as she wants.

Saw TV tonight. The final part of 'Therese Raquin'. A haunting end, with Madame Raquin paralysed in her wheelchair, the cat with it's broken back squealing in the background, and her daughter-in-law and daughter-in-law's lover laying dead at her lifeless feet.

Lynn and Dave's car was coughing and spluttering and Dad and I pushed it half way down the lane before the engine decided to turn over.

Took to my bed feeling quite sombre.

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Thursday March 27, 1980

_. Out at lunchtime buying provisions for dinner with Ally tonight. Rump steak, asparagus spears, mushrooms, peas, and a strong, unpronounceable cheese. I bumped into dear Christine in Safeways. We frequently meet like this in supermarkets. When asking if _________ has found a girlfriend yet and was told 'no' she expressed the view that he must be 'queer'. ________.

To Ally's at 4:30. We ate the dinner with rellish. The poor girl has hardly eaten a thing since Saturday. She had been in bed all day, but I found her in much better spirits. A relaxed evening. I left her at 10:15 and came home.

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Wednesday March 26, 1980

_. Sunny day. I quit the YP at 12 and went to Ally's for lunch. The doctor had just been to see her and diagnosed 'flu and exhaustion. We ate lunch and listened to the radio. I left her at 7pm tucked up with Evelyn Waugh [she'll never read it]. Home to salad with Mum. She told me that she has let my bedroom to six Pakistanis.

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Tuesday March 25, 1980

_. I stayed over at Lidget Green, but left at 8:30 and got a bus to Leeds. I spoke to Catherine at the AHA.  Ally has found a doctor  - Glover, Michie and York, of Lidget Green. Lynn went to see Ally at 11am. ___________.

I left the YP at 5:30 and got a lift to Lidget Green with Dave B, who had Jacq and Paul in the car. They are dining with Lynn & Dave at Burley. I couldn't see them in the back of the car for the clouds of tobacco smoke and fumes engulfing us all. I was invited to Paul's birthday party. It's his birthday on April 9, and the party takes place on the following Saturday.

At Ally's we sat next to the fire. Her mother phoned. At 10 o'clock I packed her off to bed.

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Monday March 24, 1980

_. Back to work. Ally looked ghastly this morning, and after a couple of useless pills with her coffee went home to bed. Glynnie was startled by Ally's appearance.

Pouring rain. Down into Guiseley with Glynnie and got the 8:20 train to Leeds, and on he went to Stockport.

At home tonight I took an early bath, and afterwards we were plunged into darkness due to a power cut. Mum, Dad, Sue and Pete went out to look at the house on West End Terrace.

I spoke to Ally at 8:30. _______. I phoned Lynn and Dave and they drove me over to Lidget Green.

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Sunday March 23, 1980

_. Passion Sunday

Out of bed at 10, not feeling too bad after our late session and kitchen disco. I recall Ally posing like Nina Carter, or someone equally appealing, upon the bonnet of the ailing spitfire, clutching a bottle of home-brewed nettle wine. Glynnie, wearing my 'donkey jacket' went into the village with a sweeping brush and proceeded to behave like an Irish labourer.

Breakfast was a repeat of yesterday's sausage and egg extravaganza. Lynn remarked on our energy and suggested we perhaps should think of consulting a psychiatrist. Afterwards we made the familiar bottle-strewn march to the same pub where we occupied the same seats. The landlord paled as we crashed through the doors.

The rain came down on the craggy hillside as we left the pub at 3. We all returned to the kitchen disco, then adjourned to a card table, but at some point Ally disappeared. Snow had started to fall and she had wandered out of the cottage and vanished. I was disturbed to say the least, and before you could say Chris Bonington we were all out in the fields. After what seemed like hours we found her looking like a Turkish mud wrestler, propped up on a dry stone wall. We got her back to the cottage where she sat by the fire.

The others drove to Cracoe, and we followed on later. We sat next to a blazing fire. _____.

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Saturday March 22, 1980

_. Up with the larks and out into Grassington purchasing sausages and rich tea biscuits. Glynnie and Ally performed in the kitchen like Fanny and Johnny Cradock. I made the lashings of hot tea.

Afterwards we walked into the hills and clowned around in the snow. Glynnie was knackered. We returned to the Black Horse. Sue was taken ill. She took on a ghastly colour and fled the pub abandoning her brandy and ham sandwiches. An elderly lady came into the bar and said to Glynnie: "Morning's gorgeous" but he thought she's said 'good morning, gorgeous', and he replied: "Morning, Sexy". How we howled. Glynnie is a natural comedian and really should be on the stage.

The atmosphere is the Grassington taverns was more tense than on previous occasions and we soon realised there wasn't much chance of us having a 'lock in' in any of them. I decided to convert the kitchen of the cottage into a discotheque, which commenced at 11 after having fish and chips in the village. Only Ally, Glynnie and I took part, the others were far from festive. We ended the night drinking lager from a large tea pot and dancing, scantily clad, in the garden.

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Friday March 21, 1980

_. Ally was up and out at 9 to go to Yeadon and have her hair permed, and returned at 11 just as we were getting up. Transformed, with flowing yellow curls. Mum made breakfast and we then packed the spitfire and and headed for Grassington. I first had to call at the bank and withdraw £10 from my account to keep Ally in the manner to which she might have become accustomed to had she met the right young man. The day was bright and clear and we sped towards the Dales in the disintegrating car, piled high with luggage, bottles and more bottles. Something fell off the bottom of the car as we hurtled past Bolton Abbey, but we battled on regardless. The cottage was a delight to behold, but why do owners of weekend, country cottages insist on decorating them in the most hideous hues? The place was awash with mauve and lime green. They must have laughed themselves silly while hanging the striped orange wallpaper in the sitting room. The first priority was to build large blazing fires in the sitting room and kitchen. Hill Top Cottage was almost reduced to a mound of smouldering ash when the kitchen range caused a 'pea souper' of a smog. At three, the three of us [Glynnie] retreated to the pub where we sat watching a black and white telly. At 8 we met Lynn, Dave, Sue and Pete at the Devonshire. To a damp bed at about 1. A wet, foggy night.

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Thursday March 20, 1980

_. Disappointing evening. Glynnie had arrived at 4 and was entertaining Mum and Dad when I came home from the office. At 7:30 we went to the Hare & Hounds for drinks before dinner at 8:30. Ally arrived at 7:30. Judith and Tim were nowhere to be seen and at the Hare we were immediately set upon by Robert Griffin, the assistant manager_____. We sat down to a dinner of hideous proportions. Abominable small steaks. They really ought to have provided magnifying glasses with our plates. We all laughed about it a good deal. We went into the pool room afterwards, and Mr Griffin bolted the doors and dimmed the lights as though we were heading for an after hours drink, but none came.

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Wednesday March 19, 1980

_. Pete came this evening to sample the latest home made lager in celebration of his birthday tomorrow. We watched a marvellous, grizzly murder on BBC2 - 'Therese Raquin', by someone called  Émile Zola, who I am sure will go far if he keeps up to this remarkable standard. The pils lager must have taken hold because afterwards Mum, Dad and I had a heated argument on the subject of death and funerals and the hypocrisy of it all. Émile  Zola was also partially to blame. Mother has had terrible experiences at family funerals and this has coloured her whole attitude. _______. Mum just wants to be kicked around, after death, until we have lost her, with none of the flowers she loved so much in life. I cannot understand this. Such a sombre topic of discussion.

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Tuesday March 18, 1980

_. Kathleen arrived at the YP this morning and calmly enquired as to whether I was sufficiently recovered, and made no snide remarks, voiced no suspicions as to the severity of my ailment, &c. I am well and truly 'off the hook'.

Blustery day today but no more snow. Ate sausages in the canteen with Sarah and Carol and escaped at 4:30 armed with a copy of the EP bearing an article on page 1 which owes its existence to me. Philip Naylor-Leyland, the Fitzwilliam heir, and eldest son of a baronet, today married Lady Isabella Lambton, daughter of the naughty Lord Lambton, who was central to the Norma Levy call-girl scandal in May, 1973. Geoff Hemingway has promised to pay me for this morsel of high society news.

Phoned Ally at the AHA. She was miserable and 'put out' by my enquiries, distracting her from the Catherine Cookson novel she's reading. I was thoroughly depressed by her sombre tones, and dismal outlook, and really wish I hadn't bothered. Such a melancholy baby. On the bright side I did receive a letter from her which was sweet. The pen does tend to make things sweeter, don't you think? On  Saturday Chippy advised me to move to Bradford and live with her. He is always very blunt, but objective. ___________.

Pete came up tonight to complete the quintet. How quiet will it be in July when Sue is gone?

A Charles Bronson film at 10:30. Bed at 12:35.

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Monday March 17, 1980

_. St Patrick's Day

Out of bed at 7:10am and to my horror the lane is shrouded in a blanket of snow. Ally woke up with a glowing nose, heavy eyes and a cold. I gave her a cup of tea and a couple of asprin, and she disappeared into the blizzard driving a car with next to no petrol in the tank. I went out with a spade and cleared the drive before moving on to Jim's to perform my good deed of the day for my chauffeur.

At the YP I expected a raging, screaming mob, but was thrown into confusion by the silence and complete lack of interest in my so-called sudden illness on Friday.  I phoned Ally at 12:30 and she says Derek Jenkins has been similarly quiet on the subject of her absence.

The Daily Mail this morning reported that the Queen is to pay a state visit to Liechtenstein in May primarily to organise a marriage between the Prince of Wales and Princess Nora of that pin-prick of a principality. This is outrageous. Princess Nora is 30 years old, far too old for our Wales, because his bride must necessarily have many years of child bearing years ahead of her, and of course Nora is a Roman Catholic. The Prince of W has said that if he marries a RC he is technically 'dead' and no way will he rock the apple-cart. Just imagine 'Queen Nora'. Mum would be ecstatic, I do suppose. They, Mum and Dad, returned from snow-bound Grassington at 9:30 looking bedraggled, but healthy.

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