Sunday November 23, 1980

_. Last Sunday after Trinity

Woke up feeling better, but with a headache. Had a boiled egg. Joked with Mum about last night's 'ball'.

Reading 'The Windsor Story' by J. Bryan III and Charles J.V. Murphy. Watched Peter Sellers in a poor, Neolithic comedy.

Phoned John at Lochans. He's more relaxed these days. He's taking the brood on a drive to Drummore this afternoon.

Had a row with Mum which spoilt dinner _____________.

Had a conversation with Ally who is 'car sitting' for Lynn and Dave and then coming here afterwards. She phoned back in floods of tears at 7:30 saying her car won't start, blaming David for flattening the battery when fixing her cassette player. Ten minutes later she phoned back saying the car was 'burring' and raring to go. She came over at 8:15. Saw the Royal Variety Performance. Ally left at 10:30.

Watched Woody Allen's 'Love and Death'. Hilarious.

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Saturday November 22, 1980

_. Sweat a good deal in the night and dreamt about aliens landing from outer space in the Yorkshire Dales, scurrying into the numerous labyrinths and potholes. Naturally, in my dream I volunteered, along with two skinheads, to pursue the invading aliens into the bowels of the earth to exterminate them, and thereby save the world. I woke up at 9am just as I surfaced from a mossy pothole.

I attempted to eat breakfast [sausages] but it was all too much. I reclined on a sofa like an emaciated Roman senator until David had the good sense to bring me home to Pine Tops at 1 o'clock. Mum and Dad were out so I left a note and climbed into bed. Dad woke me at 6 with a bowl of horrible vegetable soup.

Mum and Dad went out at 8 with Hilda and Tony, Earl Stevens and Betty Hesp to the Wharfedale Gate ~ old time dancing and all that rot. Mum was dreading the experience.

I slept a little longer and then watched 'Dallas' at 9:15 to see who shot J.R. It was Bing Crosby's daughter after all. Back to bed by 11. Tony came into my room in the early hours and assaulted me. He had the cheek to say I might have alcoholic poisoning. Hilda also appeared and gave me a Silver wedding invitation for Christmas Eve.

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Friday November 21, 1980

_. Up at 7 feeling listless. Ate breakfast with Kitten and took a smoke-filled omnibus to the YP. At lunchtime I bought wallpaper, paste and turpentine [for Ally's small bedroom] and I puffed and panted carrying the provisions around town. The latest [Yorkshire] Ripper business makes the YP a hectic, seething spot and I was in no mood to cope with it.

Home at 6. No appetite. Ate fish reluctantly. Took a bath. Collected by Lynn and Dave at 7:30. They took me to Ally's. It was a mistake. She was daubing paint on her bedroom walls and was infuriatingly unsympathetic to my aches and pains which annoyed me. Aren't I always running to her side, oozing comfort, when she is under the weather?

Lynn brought her portable TV and we watched 'Steptoe & Son', the series from 1972, which made me howl. At 10 I could take no more and retired to bed. By now Ally realised I was ill. I lay beneath the sheets shivering and shaking.

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Thursday November 20, 1980

_. State Opening of Parliament. The 33rd wedding anniversary of the Queen and the Duke of Edinburgh.

Over to Ally's at 6 with David B [who collected me from the YP], where we joined Precious and an expanding Lynn. The Bakers are on a strange mission. To sell Lynn's car they have advertised it the Bradford Telegraph & Argus under Ally's phone number and are taking up residence at Sprog Cottage until Saturday in the hope that a Colonial gentleman with £300 to spare will come along. I think it odd. Why not advertise in the Northamptonshire Gazette and go stay with Earl Spencer?

I feel and look exhausted. We dined on leek and onion soup followed by fish and chips and cloudy lager. Listened to tapes until 11. We discussed names for the baby. I attempted to push Charles, and it was pleasantly received. James too. Lynn and Dave returned to Burley having had no enquiries.

I phoned Dave L and asked him to join us at Ally's on Saturday with Sue and Pete. He seemed to like the idea.

To bed at 12 feeling ill. Something is amiss.

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Wednesday November 19, 1980

Ripper: his 13th victim.

_. My cousin Diane is 17 today.

YP: It has been confirmed that the Ripper has claimed his thirteenth victim. Had a frantic day because of this.

Phoned Auntie Mabel at 2 and invited myself [with Ally] to tea on Nov 25. Phoned Ally. She came to see me at 7:30. Dave G phoned to enquire about holiday plans '81. I told him about Ally's resignation from the Belfry and our worries about scraping up the cash for two weeks in Agios Nikolaos. I ended by saying we'll sort something out shortly.

I persuaded Ally to stay the night. I loathe to think of her driving around Bradford when this maniac is on the loose.

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Tuesday November 18, 1980

_. Wet and cold. Dad joined me on my journey to Leeds because he's back at school at the Leeds Police HQ. Poor Jennie didn't open her mouth.

Busy day. A guy from Debrett's, and a so-called expert on the illegitimate lines of descent from King Charles II, reveals in the Daily Express that he's spent weeks researching Lady Diana Spencer's genealogy. I did the same search in a couple of hours. I'd love to work for Debrett's or Burke's Peerage, and be paid for it. Sadly though I didn't go to Lancing, and I'm not related to Sir Winston Churchill, and my surname is not D'Arcy-Mountjoy-Bampfylde-Evans. I don't stand a chance.

A girl has been murdered in Headingley and [Yorkshire] Ripper fears are raised, but not confirmed as yet.

Grace 'bashing' Russell Harty.

I phoned Ally at 4. She has provisionally booked an apartment at Agios Nikolaos, Crete, from June 24, '81, for two weeks. I am astounded at her speed and efficiency. However, when she arrived at 7:30 she looked dejected saying she cannot afford a Greek holiday. Saving money is a bore and a strain, I'd prefer a fortnight in Whitby.

Watched a gruelling play on TV and saw Grace Jones bashing Russell Harty on his pathetic TV chat show.

To bed at 12:30.

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Monday November 17, 1980

Lady Diana: fever grows.

_. Lady Diana Spencer fever grows. I saw her tonight for the first time on TV. The six o'clock news on the BBC showed the poor girl besieged outside her flat, bombarded with questions as she fumbled for her car keys, eventually driving away beaming all over her face. The poor girl. I think this really means business. The morning papers say she was at Sandringham over the weekend. But as a note of caution let us not forget that Sandringham is her birthplace and home, and she has close ties to the Queen. Another bloody red herring? I am trying to view the situation objectively. Mum says they'll be engaged by Thursday, but Dad's opinion is that it will never happen because the Prince of Wales is a confirmed bachelor. Obviously, Dad doesn't know what he's talking about.

YP busy. Carol J left 'with a cold' at 12:30. That is the last we'll see of her until pay day. A new boy on the YP staff, I discover, is the son of the ghastly former Home Secretary, Merlyn Rees, a Leeds MP. We are really scraping the barrel these days. On the subject of MPs it was interesting to see Sir Harold Wilson speaking on 'Panorama' this evening. His opinion is that the Labour party fell to pieces when he resigned the leadership. He described Peter Shore as his 'poodle' and scoffed about Michael Foot. Harold tends to regard himself as a god, I think.

Mum and Dad went to Auntie Mabel's from 6:30-11:30. I half-heartedly watched TV. Lady Diana was on every news bulletin. I like her pleasant demeanour and obvious good mannered gentleness.

I phoned Ally. She was washing and brewing. I offered to buy her a dress. Auntie Hilda phoned for John's address. She is sending out Silver wedding invitations.

To bed at 12:15.

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Sunday November 16, 1980

_. 24th Sunday after Trinity

Breakfast at the Hollywood and then we bid our fond farewells to the Glynns. On to Bradford for 11 where Ally changed into her 'slave-wear' and departed for the Belfry. I made my way to Guiseley and had another breakfast with Mummy.  They [Mum and Dad] were at Giovanni's last night for Jim's birthday.

Received a surprise at 3 when Ally walked in an announced she had resigned from the Belfry and will never set foot in that sinking restaurant again. I think she has failed to see eye to eye with the Ayatollah Hartley for some time. And a new waitress has been rubbing her up the wrong way. That will never do.

Charles: hunting foxes on his birthday.

Later we went to Burley-in-W and the Baker residence. It is months since I visited Lawn Road. The new tiled bathroom is exquisite.

I'm tingling with excitement about an article about Lady Diana Spencer in the Sunday Times. She is reported to have left her London flat on Friday and they say she is at Sandringham for the weekend, but no official statement has appeared. The prince was out hunting foxes on his birthday, and Lady Diana found a parking ticket on her car, in the midst of the press turmoil, at her £100,000 flat.

Bed at 12.

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Saturday November 15, 1980

_. Drizzle, fog, rain. Breakfast at 10. Met by Ally at 11 in the Citroen. Over to Stockport in treacherous conditions arriving at 1pm. Lily's hair is no longer blond - like Mrs Thatcher she's gone 'honeysuckle'.

Off to the Robin Hood pub with Billy Garry and Steve. Drank profusely. They all seem to revere Ally - nay, idolise her. We all do get on extremely well. Back at the Hollywood at 3 Dave played his 'Meatloaf' LP.

Out at 7 with the lads to dinner at 'Steak Kebabs' . I had a 2lb T-bone steak. Ally also had a T-bone, but smaller. Afterwards the merry band returned to the Robin Hood for further lubrication. Argued with the barmaid about who actually shot J.R. Ewing. The fun continued until after 1am.

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Friday November 14, 1980

_. Hideous experience at the dentist. The dentist had great difficulty locating a wisdom tooth. One comment he made was that my tongue is one of the biggest he's encountered.  I choked and spluttered and left the surgery at 6:15. Dreading my next appointment on Dec 1st. He says he will have to inject me in the roof of my mouth to enable him to hit one particular nerve and will have to go away and research the procedure because he hasn't performed such an operation before! Gulp.

Diana: pretty and demure.

Today is the 32nd birthday of the Prince of Wales and the media are eagerly awaiting the announcement of his engagement to Lady Diana Spencer. I have been carrying out further research into Lady Diana's background [for the YP] and have discovered with some pleasure that she was born on the Sandringham estate at Park House [the home of her grandmother, Lady Fermoy] on July 1, 1961. On Aug 30, that year, she was christened at the Church of St Mary Magdalene, Sandringham, by the Bishop of Norwich. I do feel that Lady Diana is the one we have been waiting for and do not think she is too young for the prince. Her connections are impeccable and she's led an unblemished life with no sordid tales of sex that would create a 'field day' for the News of the World. Pretty and demure, she will undoubtedly blossom into something far exceeding her present demeanour. Oh yes, if Charles doesn't go ahead and marry her I feel sure he'll be missing out on a jewel.

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Thursday November 13, 1980

_. Bought steak, cheese and chocolates in my lunch hour and went to Ally's at 6. Joined at 7:30 by Mum and Dad for a dinner party. Prawn cocktails, rump steak, asparagus, celery, followed by cream cake and an assortment of cheese. A delightful evening. Mum seldom eats steak, but found it very enjoyable. Darling Ally did flap and fluster prior to the arrival of the royal party. Dad went upstairs to fix a blind and a curtain rail. He had to earn his supper. Ally looked very pretty in a black dress of Sue's.

Catherine Brook leaves the AHA tomorrow.

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Wednesday November 12, 1980

Foot: winner by 10 votes.

_. In the midst of Tim's 21st birthday celebrations on Monday I quite forgot to comment on Michael Foot's victory in the Labour party leadership stakes. The old boy beat Denis Healey by 10 votes. I am feeling quite gleeful about it. Labour now stands no chance of ever winning a general election with this aged cripple at the helm. My only worry is the thought that Wedgwood Benn is waiting in the wings. At 67 Foot is surely not long for this world.

Took a half day from 12. Joined by Ally at the Ostlers. Then on to get Ally's car taxed for another six months. We marched around Leeds but made no Christmas purchases. On to Pine Tops at 4:30 but the house was deserted. Mum and Dad are out for the day in the Dales. We ate pork chops by candlelight. Mum and Dad were back at 9 clowning around in the kitchen like a courting couple. Jim and Margaret came at 9:30 and we all watched a film of President Kennedy's assassination which was excellent. The man who played Jack Ruby is something of a comedian. To bed at 12.

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Tuesday November 11, 1980

Gustav Adolf: party in Shipley.

_.Union news: Our trouble with the M.O.C. is resolved. I have agreed to pay my union subs but NOT the political levy included in the weekly subscription. The flustered M.O.C exclaimed: 'It's only a penny a week, you know?' To which I replied: 'Ah, but it's the principle of the thing.' I refuse to subsidise the lifestyle of Ron Leighton, MP. I'd prefer my 1p to go to Norman St John Stevas or young Winston Churchill.

Home at 5. Dined with Mama and Papa. Ally came at 9. We went to the Elmer disco in Shipley at 10 to the 98th birthday party for King Gustav Adolf of Sweden. In reality it's an orgy organized by Chris Mackenzie, and he desperately wanted an excuse to celebrate. Why not an Armistice Party? I did point out to Chris that King Gustav Adolf died in 1973, but this did not hinder the celebration.  We huddled in a corner. Carol J, Pauline, Tony Harney, Helen of Troy, Chris Mackenzie, &c. The bar closed at 1am and we returned to Club St.

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Monday November 10, 1980

_. To the dentist at 5pm for a couple of x-rays. A complete waste of time really. I was amused by a poster in the waiting room showing a fox idly reading 'Horse and Hound', surrounded by hounds similarly engaged.

Ally collected me at 5:30 in Rawdon and we went on to Pine Tops for dinner. Ally collected a dress from Sue's and we headed off to Tong arriving at the King's at 9:15. Jill and Tim were there with Tim's enormous brother. Tim and Jill are good company. At 10:30 we went on to see Auntie Hilda and Uncle Tony, both subdued. On to Club St at 12. Tore wallpaper from the walls in the spare bedroom.

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Sunday November 9, 1980

_. 23rd Sunday after Trinity. Remembrance Sunday

A day buried beneath mounds of festering wallpaper and paste at Rue Club. Ally was at the Belfry and left me alone until 3. Finished the bedroom at 7. Heinz tomato soup and bread.

Back to Pine Tops. Ally only managed a cup of tea before returning to the Belfry. Mum and Dad had a very exciting day. Earl Stephens, an old friend from the deep past, who has been in New Zealand since 1958, suddenly appeared on our doorstep this morning. Unfortunately, Dad was out beating up innocent members of the public and didn't see him, but Earl returned at 7:30. Spent the night chatting about old times. By 11 I was like a zombie and escaped to bed leaving Mr Stephens expounding his ideas for a revolutionary shower partition. Slept immediately, and deeply.

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Saturday November 8, 1980

_. Up at 11 for bacon and eggs. To Ally's at 12 and found her cleaning. Decorate the bedroom until 5. Daubing paste &c.

Went into Bradford at 5 and bought Tim a T-shirt and a birthday card. Ate fish and chips in newspaper like ravenous fiends.

Bathed in the luxury of the green bathroom, listening to Ally throwing a tantrum about her clothes - or lack of them. On to Pudsey at 8:30 and then  we all - the whole mob - went to the King's Arms in Tong for refreshment. I wore a tie pin which created a minor sensation for some reason. Ally really gets on well with Diane. Sue and Pete are uncertain about a holiday next year, but we are considering our plans in earnest. Lynn was lovely all in black. Back to Wilsby [6, St James's Crescent] at 11. I was pissed and fell on a poor woman splattering her with pizza and potato salad. Tony was becoming quite malevolent to Peter, who clowned around in a punch bowl. Auntie Mabel was the only surprise guest.

Back to Rue Club at 3am.

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Friday November 7, 1980

_. Sarah's birthday. Out to Da Mario's at 12 for a joyful celebration. Just Sarah, Shazzo, Carol J, and Marilyn. Ate lasagne but felt hungry afterwards. Walked back to the YP minus Sarah, who took a half day. Called at a travel agents and collected some books for the next summer season. Shazzo says Agios Nikolaos on Crete is 'lively' and 'my scene'. Sarah's Lindos on Rhodes sounds starchy and old. You know I like noise, debauchery, dissipation and booze.

Home at 6. Read 'Caligula' by William Howard. Truly a foul, evil volume of perversion if ever I saw one.

In the space of two days I've been thoroughly brainwashed into thinking  Ronald Reagan isn't such a bad guy. His elder brother, Neil, is quoted as saying he cannot understand why 'Junior wants to run America'. To bed at nearly 12.

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Thursday November 6, 1980

Caligula.

_. Horribly wet. On to Leeds by bus with Mac [Alan Macgregor], he's a Bradfordian, you know. He gave me a potted history of the Bradford public transport organisation.

Out at 12 to Len's Bar with Ally and a 'rosy' Lynn. Ate pate and toast and put back a few lagers. This was the enjoyable part because at 2 I was dragged out by the frenzied women to the bustling shops. Lynn bought maternity dresses and hideous, sail-like undergarments. I browsed amongst the books. I bought 'Caligula' by William Howard, which proves to be a hair-raising account of this lurid era in Roman history. Another bit of erotica for my bottom shelf. We bought JPH and Catherine's presents from Santa Claus. Home at 6:30 cold, tired and penniless.

Too exhausted to go out. Jim and Margaret came at 9 and we sat with them. The call of bed was too strong.

The little girl next door, Claire, plays he recorder day and night, and it's always the same tune ~ 'Go and Tell Aunt Nancy'. I've heard it 48,000,000 times.

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Wednesday November 5, 1980

_. I retired to bed at 3am and climbed out again at 6:45 to watch the election programme on the BBC. Reagan has won everywhere, and Carter is left with only Georgia, his home state. Mrs Thatcher will be rubbing her hands with glee but I cannot help feeling wary about this clapped out old actor. Mind you, I said some pretty loathsome things about Jimmy Carter in '76, but changed my opinion of him.

Princess Anne: another baby.

Reagan is the oldest person to have been elected president of the US. A couple were elected aged 65 back in the last century, but Ronald will be 70 on February 6. I have always thought that Kennedy was the youngest president, 43 at his inauguration, but Teddy Roosevelt was only 42 at his in 1901.

It was announced this afternoon that Princess Anne is expecting another child in May. Carol laughed when I suggested Lady Diana Spencer might make it three.

Ally came over at 8 and we went to Leeds. Elaine, she says, has confided in Lynn that poor Billy is definitely 'queer'. How very perceptive of her.

To the Bank wine bar opposite the Town Hall. Bohemian types sinking bottles of wine. Joined by Graham and Gill at 10:15. They are getting married on March 28, and spending their honeymoon in Morocco. How can they do such a thing after the shoddy treatment King Hassan gave to the Queen last week? On to Rue Club and a Chinese take-away. To bed very late.

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Tuesday November 4, 1980

_. Nothing at the YP. Graham Dixon phoned me at about 11pm enquiring after the whereabouts of Ally. I told him she would be in bed ignoring the phone. He and Gill are coming to Leeds on business [delivering programmes to the Grand Theatre] tomorrow and want to meet for lunch or a drink. Hell, I have no money.

Ronald Reagan: landslide.

A day of elections. I am writing now at 1:35am on November 5, and I have to report that Ronald Reagan has won a landslide victory in the US presidential election. Or so it seems anyway. I am watching the BBC live from the USA, and they are predicting this victory and are never wrong. Oh, God. Get out the gas masks, Ethel. The American broadcasting networks are reeling at the news. No sitting president has been ejected after only one term of office since Hoover in 1933. If only Carter had done something about Iran in '78 when the Shah began to have trouble. Had he shown some foresight he wouldn't be now sitting in the White House with tear stained cheeks. All this leaves me with sweat on my brow and stains of a muddy hue in my undergarments. Russia bashin' is bloody dangerous. Blimey, it could all be over by Christmas, and by 'all over' I refer to the world!

The other election taking place today was at Westminster where a man called Healey has won the first ballot in the election for a new leader of the Labour party. This means nothing. I have watched a man called Foot waving his walking stick at TV cameras and beaming merrily. Can nobody have told him?

I must remember to tell Ally about Graham, when I make my dawn alarm call. She's bound to panic because she is penniless and almost destitute and you know how Graham loves his greasy take-aways and gallons of ale.

It's now 1:50am and I am looking at David Dimbleby and wondering whether or not to switch off. Oh dear.

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Monday November 3, 1980

_. Mum phoned me at the office. They are going to Lynn and Dave's for dinner. My dinner, a fish pie, will be in the oven. I found it warming at 6pm. Ally arrived at 7:45 looking vivacious with her hair gathered on top of a new enchanting fringe. We sat for a couple of hours like a long established couple. She looked at the newspapers, breaking off to giggle at 'Not the Nine O'clock News'. At 10:30, both feeling weak with hunger, we bought fish and chips. I am a growing boy. She left me at 11 to avoid the horror bits on Barry Norman's 'Film 80'. Switched off and retired to bed at 11:30.

Denis Healey: party leader?

Princess Michael of Kent is expecting her second child in April. Only last week I was expressing my impatience to Carol J that Her Most Catholic Royal Highness wasn't playing the game. Lord Frederick, her first, will be two on April 6. Perhaps this will now inspire Princess Anne, because the Royal Family tends to produce offspring in twos and threes.

Two elections tomorrow: [1] The Labour party leadership, and [2] the US presidential elections. If Healey and Reagan win these I will become a Benedictine Monk and wear rough sacking next to my flesh for the remainder of my days.

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