Sunday June 29, 1980

_.4th Sunday after Trinity

Dull, rain. Sue and Pete came in at 12 with the sad news that Pete's grandmother, Florence Nason, died this morning from a heart attack. She was 82, and so looking forward to the wedding. Poor Jim is heartbroken, of course.

Maria and the children came this afternoon and created pandemonium. JPH has a temper. I blame the Celtic blood. Lynn, Dave and Ally came to dinner at 8. Roast beef, Yorkshire puddings, strawberries and cream, wine. Everybody looked shattered. Catherine is still very tiny, with glassy china-blue eyes.

Lynn and Dave left at about 11 with a pile of my shirts, for the Spanish holiday. I cannot help thinking that she isn't looking forward to it. She was very subdued about the whole thing. The Basques are bombing holiday resorts, and despite what I said the other day about plane crashes never coming in pairs, a DC10 has gone down, this time in the sea off Italy.

-=-

Saturday June 28, 1980

_. Torrential rain at times. I have decided to build a new ark, just as soon as I can lay hands on some good quality teak.

Slept until nearly 12. Chippy's 22nd birthday.

Chippy phoned. He and and Dave W want to visit the tailor to be fitted for suits for Sue and Pete's wedding. I agreed to accompany them. To the White Cross, then Charles the tailor, the New Inn, then the Crown at Yeadon. We ate bits of pizza, then went to Chippy's. Played music [loud], and then returned home, pissed.

Maria drove round from Ridgeway, with a nanny, and JPH. The little lad is now very 'leggy', and wearing the same green cardigan he always wears. No sign of my brother, who is alone in Scotland.

Ally came at 8 and out we went with Sue, Pete, Chippy, Debbie and Dave W to the Square & Compass [again] - a firm favourite now. We decided to drop our first names for the night and only use the second name, and be penalised for forgetting. Dave W was Graham, Chippy was David, I was Lawrie, Pete was James, Ally was Mary, Debbie was Anne, and Sue, having no middle name, chose Claire.

On at 11 to the Prachee for a hot curry and cold water. £4 each - not bad. On to Chippy's, I mean Dave's, where we listened to music. When we mentioned to Chippy, sorry Dave, that Ally, I mean Mary, sleeps all day he responded 'Oh, she's schizophrenic'. He should know, he is a mental nurse at the local asylum.

-=-

Friday June 27, 1980

_. Atrociously wet day. At least we were spared the tennis from Wimbledon. The sporting event was disrupted and our TV screens were free of tantrum throwing US schoolgirls with pigtails and mouths full of metal braces.

I first set eyes on Auntie Delia five years ago today, and so sent her a letter. At 7pm she phoned inviting me to tea on Tuesday. One of her friends recently likened her to the late Joyce Grenfell, and I can see why.

I'm now going to mention something that's been on my mind for a few days, even weeks. Namely the thorny subject of my membership of a trade union [NATSOPA]. I joined the union about two years ago, and at the time I didn't really want to become involved but, uncharacteristically, followed my colleagues like a paraplegic sheep. On June 20 the Daily Telegraph carried an alarming article stating that NATSOPA is about to sponsor the left-wing Labour MP, Ron Leighton, to the tune of £25,000 per annum. This move was stated as being part of an initiative to pep up the political clout of the printworkers union. Obviously, I sat seething at the prospect of donating 80p a week to the Labour party. Therefor, I vowed to cease contributing to NATSOPA funds and never again to follow others like a four-legged mutton carrying animal. I have yet to be confronted by the venomous FOC [Father of the Chapel, as newspaper print union chiefs are called]. She, the FOC, happens to be a woman who terrifies all who come into contact with her. I am, however, resolved in my course of action and will stand up against the bullying leftist militants, who try and walk over humble librarians.

Home at 6. Sat with 'George the First' by Ragnhild Hatton. Watched Peter Cushing in 'The Abominable Snowman'. Bed after one.

-=-

Thursday June 26, 1980

_. Even wetter. Mum and Dad seem to be restored to a normal relationship. Mum was bubbly, and Dad quite unchanged.

YP: Anna Wallace features in the gossip columns. The Prince of Wales is showing a marked interest in the girl. Is it wedding bells in 1980? Oh, shut up.

This evening, at 7:30 I went to Bradford where Ally met me from the bus on Manningham Lane. We went to a little pub called the Black Swan, and then to the Bod, on Manchester Road. I did a fair bit of drinking there some years ago. We had a good heart to heart._______.

-=-

Wednesday June 25, 1980

_. I got a lift from Leeds at 5:30 with Dave B, and we collected Ally. We ate with Lynn and Dave at Burley. Fish in parsley sauce. Afterwards we bought port and cans of beer and went to Dave and Elaine's at Over Lane, Rawdon, where we sat listening to tales of embarrassing intimacy from Elaine. Coughing into our glasses at her complete lack of tact. She does have some endearing qualities. The Allinson's son, Stephen, told me that last week on his sixth birthday he'd been to the top of Snowdon. 'It's the highest mountain in the whole world, you know.'

Home after 2.

-=-

Tuesday June 24, 1980

_. Mum and Dad continuing to act oddly. Mum is quiet and Dad behaves as though all is happiness and fun. He's far too cheerful.

Spoke to Ally several times today.  She wanted to know the details of our visit tomorrow to Dave & Elaine's [Elaine's the endearing, yet crude girl, whose only topic of conversation is breast feeding]______.

I escaped from the YP at 4:30. Dave B came at 6:30 and with Sue and Pete we went to Pudsey and Auntie Mabel's pile to collect her ancient, yet splendid old bed. It was fastened to Dave's car. [He is the only person we know who possesses a roof rack]. We drank tea and devoured what Auntie called 'Buttered Humphreys', and left in a downpour of rain and cascade of kisses. Back to West End Terrace. Dave left to take Lynn to a bargain party and I stood until almost 11 putting brown paint onto a bedroom door.

To bed at 12 with 'George the First'.

-=-

Monday June 23, 1980

_. Catherine's first birthday. My parents carry on like Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton. Violent emotion.

Got a bus home at 6pm. I soon after retired to my room with 'George the First' by Ragnhild Hatton. Susan has spoken to Auntie Mabel and they are going over to see her tomorrow to collect a bed [a wedding present]. I went out to help Dad with the lawns, but found him at the bottom of the garden puffing on a secret cigar like a devious schoolboy.

To be at 11 with 'George the First', a good book.

-=-

Sunday June 22, 1980

_. 3rd Sunday after Trinity

Woke at 9. We giggled in bed. Ally went off to Bradford, and I rolled over and went to sleep until 11:30. Eggs, bacon and beans with Chippy and Debbie at 12. Afterwards we left Debbie studying German for her 'A' Level exam tomorrow, and joined Ken & Olive sitting outside the White Cross. I could only manage the one drink because my head throbbed hideously. We then went on to see Dave W and crept down his garden path and peered through his window and watched him, for some considerable time, struggling with a Sunday newspaper. He thinks he may be dying.

Home at 2 to see Mum and Dad, who returned from Northumberland last night. They are very quiet. I  went up to bed, but Mum followed me. I asked how the holiday had been. 'Your father hated the soddin' place', was her response. I took to my bed until 5.

Ally arrived and we went out to buy  papa some rum [for medicinal purposes] and then the two of us went to the Fox & Hounds. Saw George Waite. On to the Woolpack and then the Station on Henshaws Lane, before returning to Pine Tops at 10pm.

-=-

Saturday June 21, 1980

_. Woke up at almost mid-day. Ally went off to a shift at the Belfry. I ironed some clothes, listening to Serge Rachmaninov's 2nd piano concerto. The ironing speeded up with the third movement. Do I perhaps have the blood of a long dead Chinese laundress flowing through my veins? Whilst ironing away to the melodious banging of Maura Lympany, midst the heat and steam, I found myself inspecting a pair of Pete's Levi jeans, and puzzle for some minutes at the shortness of his legs. Is my sister soon to become the spouse of a dwarf, or perhaps a gnome? I resolve, in my labours, to settle this disturbing matter later in the evening.

To the White Cross at 8 with Sue and Peter. Sadly, Dave L had the opportunity to join us but declined. He blames a new teaching job at South Elmsall. From the Cross we went to the Square & Compass, for their splendid 'mind blowing' lager. I went with Dave W. I did enjoy the atmosphere in this pub.

Back to Chippy's in Menston at 11:30. Joined by the lovely Ally, wearing something called a 'boob tube'. Joined by Lynn, Dave, Ken and Olive. A vast lake of rosé wine was consumed. I do recall hauling Pete to the floor [with help] to take his inside leg measurement. How we howled with laughter. A fracas broke out between Dave W and Ken. The former referred to the latter as 'a ginger haired bastard'.

Ally and I escaped to Chippy's bed, but not before we had a skirmish with a violent bedside lamp.

-=-

Friday June 20, 1980

_. This morning Ally felt like death. I was generally boisterous. Neither did I suffer throughout the day, and praised the Almighty for my safe keeping.

Out at 12 with Sarah to Len's Bar. Huddled together in the gloom on a Chesterfield sofa. I arrived home at 6 raring to go, but Sue & Pete plead poverty, and so we decided to stay in. Something is wrong with the telly. Everything and everyone looks a vile shade of green. Kenneth Kendall, reading the news, looked like a Martian. I lay on the sofa, and slipped into a coma, with an Agatha Christie novel covering my Adonis features.

-=-

Thursday June 19, 1980

_. Mama and Papa were joined together in Holy matrimony upon this day 26 years ago, and are now celebrating in the peace and damp of Northumberland.

Pete came up at 8 and took Sue and Janet Simon off to the Drop before disappearing with Chippy for the Thursday 'ale fest'. Ally and I went to the New Inn, and Sue and Janet joined us, walking down from the Drop. They arrived with cans of beer purchased to consume en route, even though the New Inn is only about 200 yards from the Hanson pile. Later, Pete and Chippy fell in the doors, making the band of boozers complete. Ally was persuaded to drink gin and dry Martini mixed. Chris Blades, his eyes bulging, and Geoff Hanson, were drawn to Susan's side, like flies around a jam pot. Sue was wearing particularly tight jeans and revealing t-shirt. The scene was reminiscent of debauched, Restoration England. All that was missing was the oranges and full-bottom wigs.

Back at home we managed to spill two cups of black coffee into the bed. The cocktails took hold of Ally, and she had a restless night. We lay watching the clouds dash by above.

-=-

Wednesday June 18, 1980

_. Ally came here at 5:30 clad in her work togs in readiness for another onslaught on the decor at West End Terrace. It was pointless really because I could see little to do tonight, but we put in an appearance all the same.  If Ally isn't working flat out like an Egyptian slave on the pyramids, she's miserable. David B arrived [Lynn-less] and plastered something in the kitchen. I stood around like a pork pie at a Jewish wedding. We made our farewells at about 9.

We went back to watch TV. A Shaun Cassidy film about a retarded couple and their endeavour to be married.

Poppet stayed the night. Chippy phoned late on to confirm his party is definitely on for Saturday. Unfortunately, Ally is working, but says she'll come to Gerald's later on. Debbie's influence has transformed Chippy in recent months. He's quite normal these days.

-=-

Tuesday June 17, 1980

_. Mixed weather. Wet, but dry.

En route to Leeds Jennie kept hinting that tomorrow is her birthday, and so I am compelled to purchase a birthday card.

Kathleen continues to be nauseating. She flapped around waving the wads of paper [Honours List], and was generally hideous for the whole day.

Sarah left at lunchtime 'to get pissed' [her phrase] at Len's Bar with a man called Trevor. Returning from lunch I found them holding hands on Wellington Street. She requires a husband, and quickly. She has to marry, or at least leave home, within the next two years, because her father, a big noise in the Post Office, is due to retire and return to living at Ivory Towers. His presence will be intolerable. Delia says that she might have to find night work, of a dubious nature, just to escape his clutches.

Home at 6. Susan has 'blobbed' [to quote Peter] and had not been to work, and had concocted a delightful dinner for Peter and I. By coincidence Lynn phoned at 6 and said that she too had taken the day off, for some minor ailment.

Ally had a shift at the Belfry. Mum and Dad phoned from Rothbury. I joined Sue, Pete, Jim N, Lynn and Dave at West End Terrace, where I continued painting. Enjoying the feel of the brush and the whiff of emulsion paint I battled on until 11:15.

At home Sue and Pete were in bed within minutes. I watched the highlights of the first day of Royal Ascot on the BBC. Queen Mother fever is really taking hold now. She was cheered and applauded marvellously. No other Queen in our history has been more loved by the people. HM's 80th birthday celebrations next month really should be commemorated by a Bank Holiday.

Grand Duke Jean of Luxembourg is visiting the Queen at Windsor. Once again stories of an engagement between his daughter, Marie-Astrid, and the Prince of Wales, make the gutter press. No chance. Absolutely no chance whatsoever. I will put my shirt on it.

-=-

Monday June 16, 1980

_. Thunder and lightning. Breakfast with Ally, Sue and Pete. We all left on our separate ways by 8am. Jim R watched Ally blasting off up the lane and was grinning broadly as he stopped to pick me up. He suspects the worst. Little Jennie has hurt her hand whilst prancing around doing gymnastics.

Spent the day brooding over the Queen's Birthday Honours list and updating the files. No spectacular appointments. I wait every year for the re-introduction of hereditary peerages, but they never come.

Home at 5. Ally arrived at 5:30 and we went to West End Terrace. I painted the sitting room ceiling and felt satisfied with the result. It's no Sistine Chapel, but perfectly suitable for a Guiseley terrace house.

Back to Pine Tops at 9:30. We had fish and chips [again], and watched a James Coburn film. Ally stayed over. To bed at 11:30.

-=-

Sunday June 15, 1980

_. 2nd Sunday after Trinity

Brighter. Up at 10:30. Ally went late to the Belfry and Sue and Pete joined me for breakfast and then went to West End Terrace. In a domesticated fashion I did the washing up listening to a booming 'Saturday Night Fever' album, courtesy of the Bee Gees.

Mum and Dad phoned from Rothbury, near Morpeth. It is Father's Day and he thanked me for the card, in which I had inserted £3. The weather isn't too bad up there, and they are walking out this afternoon in search of a hospitable alehouse. 

I watched a revolting Tony Curtis film, 'The Black Shield of Falworth'. A nauseating historical drama. 

Sue and Pete returned at 4, and Ally rolled in shortly afterwards. We all dined together and watched TV until midnight. Peter insisted we watch England v. Italy in the European Cup. A fiasco, and obviously we lost. Ally was cuddled up next to me reading 'Busman's Honeymoon'. I took up 'N or M' by Agatha Christie, and it was in this position that we both fell to sleep, our books sliding to the carpet. Susan put it down to age. Ally remained the night. Bed 12:10am.

-=-

Saturday June 14, 1980

_. Dave L is 25 today. Ally arrived at 10:30 with a copy of the Times. Mum and Dad left at 11 for a week in Northumberland, disappearing down the lane in a deluge. I sat and watched the Trooping of the Colour. A remarkable spectacle.

At 12 Chippy arrived with Dave W and Ally, Sue [with newly permed hair] and I went with them to the Shoulder. Joined by Pete. On at 2:30 to the White Cross. I'm financially embarrassed and Dave W came to my rescue and gave me the loan of £5. Ally is working at the Belfry and so I agreed to go with Chippy, Debbie and Dave W to the Square and Compass, near Huby, or wherever. Ally went off at 6 but came back at 8 saying her services at the Belfry were not required. Lynn phoned and we arranged to see them at the Square and Compass too. It was a pleasant night. Lynn and Chippy don't usually see eye to eye. Ally looking lovely, like a stick of Blackpool rock, in a new striped dress. All back to Pine Tops at 11:30 for wine and coffee. Chippy & Co went to Bradford for a curry, and Ally and I sat with Lynn and Dave B for a few hours.

-=-

Friday June 13, 1980

_. Friday the Thirteenth. Wet, dismal. Muggy in fact. The YP was dismal and at 5 I slouched out into the daylight with a sickly headache, feeling decidedly clammy.

Spoke to Ally today. She reads me items from last week's Sunday Mirror including a story stating that Lady Amanda Knatchbull has returned from a holiday where she's been contemplating her future. Utter rubbish, I'm sure. I have almost given up with speculating about the Prince of Wales's marital prospects. I am considering switching my attention to Prince Andrew's future bride.

Mum and Dad went off to Joe and Anne Grunwell's silver wedding party and I took to my bed for a couple of hours. Got up at 8 with a clear head.

Watched a dreadful film starring Peter Wyngard. He brought to mind a story Dave L relates about his time in Gloucester, and where the public conveniences there were made famous after the fiendish actor was nabbed in the lavatories whilst soliciting the favours of naughty men.

Spoke to Uncle Tony on the blower. He wanted the address of Charles the tailor, in Menston, where the Pudsey contingent are hiring morning suits for Sue and Pete's wedding.

To bed at 1am. Mum and Dad didn't get back until after 5am.

-=-

Thursday June 12, 1980

_. Foul and wet. Arrived at the YP at 8:50 to a bombardment of heavy artillery from Kathleen. She blew her top at my constant lateness. I told her I would in future work 9-5, instead of 8:45-4:20. I cannot grumble really because I've got away with it for over 3 years.

Ally came at 8:30 and we went to [1] the New Inn and [2] the White Cross. Talked about Ibiza.  We were spotted by Philip Knowles, but escaped. At the Cross we also bumped into Martyn Cole, smoother than ever, in a tweed jacket, with his girlfriend.

Home at 11 to join the 'Jim and Margaret' evening. We drank some mead, from Holy Island. By 2am I was slightly pissed.

-=-

Wednesday June 11, 1980

_. Rain, yet again. Ally came over for tea at 5:30 and afterwards we joined Sue, Pete, Lynn and Dave at West End Terrace. Lynn is far from enthusiastic about her forthcoming holiday in Spain, which is odd. She normally skips around with excitement like a child for weeks beforehand. She says the thought of flying upsets her. The recent plane crash in Tenerife is at the forefront of her mind. I reassured her. We seldom have two very large plane crashes close together.

Downed paint brushes at about 10 and returned to the sanity of Pine Tops. Ally borrows more books from my personal library. 'Busman's Honeymoon' by Dorothy L. Sayers, and 'My Queen and I', by William Hamilton, MP. She left for home at about 11.

The Queen's Birthday Honours list has started to infiltrate the YP. Geoffrey Boycott, an obscure local cricketer, is to be OBE, and Dad's friend, Ronald Gregory, the Chief Constable of West Yorkshire, CBE. Other names on the list include Robin Cousins, Caroline Bradley, Kevin Keegan, John Williams [the guitarist], Frank Muir and Denis Norden, Roland Calver, Angus Wilson, &c. It's going to be more of an honour NOT to be included before very long. Jim Rawnsley was saying he'd like the Victoria Cross. I'd prefer a dukedom.

-=-

Tuesday June 10, 1980

_. Dismal day. Kathleen is set to join the band of 'in-betweenies' led by Woy Jenkins. That is if he ever returns from Europe. Laughable, it really is. Mind you, the Labour party has gone too far, hasn't it? James Callaghan is desperate to join Woy Jenkins too, but finds his present position something of a conflict.

Ally phoned at lunch expressing feelings of boredom and lethargy. The AHA does not work her hard enough.

The Daily Express tells us that the Prince of Wales has almost proposed marriage to Anna Wallace. Poppycock, I'm sure. The Daily Mail says that Edwina Hicks is out of the 'royal marriage stakes' and is walking out with one Jeremy Brudenell. She was never in the running in the first place. Lady Joanna Knatchbull is 'out' too.

Dave L phoned tonight. Our conversations are becoming more and more brief. I don't think either of us enjoy telephone calls. Sue sent him an invitation to the disco after her wedding. He told me is to spend his birthday with MM and Marita in Scarborough.

To West End Terrace tonight.

-=-

Monday June 9, 1980

_. Much rain. Back to the office. Met Lynne Bateson in the lift, she confirmed what I was thinking: 'You look miserable'.

Sat hacking at the newspapers, thinking of Ally. ___________.

Sarah has been distraught with worry because her Shih Tzu has had an op for stones in her kidneys which has cost over £100. Insanity.

Home at 5, and out at 6:30 to West End Terrace for an evening with a damp paint brush. Joined by Ally. We had fish and chips at almost 11 back at Pine Tops, and went to bed at 12, still dotted in white paint.

The news: have you heard that the dweadful Woy Jenkins is form yet another abominable political party? Everyone [i.e. the Press] seem to be excited at the prospect, but I cannot help yawning.

Reading David Sinclair's 'Queen and Country' a biography of the Queen Mother, loaned to me by Derek Naylor.