Sunday September 13, 1981

 _. 13th Sunday after Trinity

We had a restless night. Ally wasn't comfortable. We were up at 8:30. 

Phoned Lynn. Frances is to be christened on October 4 at Burley. The vicar has requested that all godparents should preferably be confirmed. None of us are. She says Chris Ratcliffe is going to Scotland on Sept 25, and thinks we shouldn't go. I say we should, and will phone Maria tomorrow. Mum is having Sue & Pete for lunch.

Ally made scrambled eggs and then put a chicken in the pot. She is bursting with activity. 

We drove to Pudsey at 2. Wilsby was deserted and so was Jill's at Valley Rd, so we phoned Mum to be told the Gadsbys were at at Pudsey St Lawrence Cricket Club's Donkey Derby. A village affair. We went along an I won £2.50 on a donkey. We sat on the damp lawn and had ice cream. Karen, Steve, Jill, Tim, Diane, Paul, and Marlene and the children. Then back to Wilsby until 9. By 9:30 were were at home. I was pissed. Had roast chicken washed down with Riesling. Watched Robert Hardy as Churchill, then plunged into a bath. Bed at 12.

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Saturday September 12, 1981

Harrogate: 1981

 _. Up at 8:30 raring to go. In Harrogate for 10:30. Ally looking for a dress for Jill & Tim's wedding. We had a frustrating hour without success. She saw a pink silk suit costing £70, but didn't buy. Most of the mannequins were dressed in 'Lady Di' style, and all the shops were the same, apparently. So, from Harrogate we drove to York where she found a pink dress covered in white tulips, and for only £11 at a shop called Sarah Coggles. Very sexy.

In York we went into the wrong pub, which was rough, and had cold steak and kidney pie, and vowed never to eat out in York again. We have yet to find a decent pub in the centre of York. The locals were alien and looked to be part of the criminal fraternity. Pagan in fact. Heavy tattoos, &c. And even the women looked like rugby prop forwards. Ally, bless her, asked if the large building dominating the city was the 'cathedral'. I just gave her a black look. 

On to Leeds and the shops. Bought nothing. Home with aching feet. Out at 7 to a run-down wine bar and then Pizzeria Mama Mia's on Manningham Lane for scampi and lasagne. Ally had a corn on the cob which oozed over her frock. Home at 9:30.

Dame Edna on the telly. Hilarious. A good day.

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Friday September 11, 1981

_. Marlene 36. YP. Penny Austin-Clarke accused me of 'sciving' yesterday. Some people are very perceptive, aren't they?

The Alexandra.

Spoke to Ally briefly. We decided to go out tonight. By 7 we were at the Alexandra in Harrogate [a Berni Inn]. T-bone steaks. Very romantic. We walked around Harrogate afterwards and decided to come back to the shops tomorrow. Whatever became of the Damn Yankee? I couldn't find it anywhere.

Home at 11.

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Thursday September 10, 1981

 _. Woke at 5am, then 6, and finally at 7. Ally went off to the AHA leaving me with the washing up. A sunny morning and I went out armed with a brush and bucket of soapy water to give the windows a going over. The woman two doors down was casting admiring glances at my wash leather. 

Spoke to Lynn. They dined at Salvo's last night [Headingley] and had a drink at the Fox & Hounds in Bramhope.

Ally came in at 11:30 __________________.

I sat this afternoon drinking coffee and reading the Daily Telegraph to the backdrop of moronic Radio One. Still reading Fraser's Charles II. Ally was home at 5 and at 6 we went to Mum's for roast beef, Yorkshire pudding. Mum picked some wedding photos for her album. Margaret and Jim came at 9 and we left at about 11.

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Wednesday September 9, 1981

 _. Lynn and David married three years ago today and we have forgotten to post a card of congratulations. Went off to the YP leaving Ally, looking pale, who is going to see a doctor.

Lynn.

I had a bad head all afternoon and felt sick. Feel as though I've been up all night. Lynn has been shopping in Leeds, getting things for Jill's wedding, and then lunching with David, and she appeared at the office at about 2 and I escorted her to a bus stop on Wellington Street. Saw the amiable tart Pam at the bus stop who said Shazzo was due home from Turkey last week, but never arrived. Mrs Cohen, Shazzo's mum, is in hospital again.

Home at 6. She is sick of being harassed by Derek Jenkins. She thinks he's insane. Spaghetti. 

Bed at 9:30.

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Tuesday September 8, 1981

 _. Three months married is an exciting time.  ______________.

YP: Did some background for Bob [Cockroft] and the People column. Lady Feversham gave birth to a son in York on Sunday, and Charles Forbes Adam, a grandson of a former YP chairman, is engaged. quite mundane really.

Spoke to Derek Jenkins [Ally was out of the office], and he didn't bother to tell her I'd phoned. Phoned Mum. They were at Hilda and Tony's last night and I was reminded the night of hideous drinking in celebration of the coming nuptials of Jill & Tim is almost upon us. May God see us safely through the ordeal. 

Greatest Aussie lady.

Saw Dame Edna [Everage] interviewed on Nationwide. Surely the greatest Australian lady of all time?

Michael Foot on the news making a heart-rending speech calling for party unity, and as usual he had to mention Aneurin Bevan. He always does. His oratory won't do a blind bit of good. Wedgwood Benn will take the leadership even if it takes him 20 years. I cannot wait for that to happen because who on earth would vote Labour with that buffoon in charge?

Mrs Thatcher has been at Balmoral. The prime minister goes every year in August for a weekend as the Queen's guest, but the word from the heather is that Mrs T is there to brief HM on her coming Cabinet changes. What rot. The re-shuffle might never come.

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Monday September 7, 1981

 _. Dull, overcast, hot. The Prince and Princess of Wales are grinning on the front pages of today's newspapers apparently giggling through the national anthem at the Braemar Games where the Queen told them to cool it. 

Phoned Ally. She's feeling peculiar __________. Later, she phoned Lynn to ask if they fancy going to Stranraer for John's birthday. The Bakers cannot decide. Auntie Joan, Bessie's sister, phoned saying we haven't received a wedding present and ought she to post it? This causes some feelings of guilt. We really should go to Colne. 

Ally is crossed legged on the floor reading Daphne Du Maurier's 'Jamaica Inn'. She says it's 'spooky'.

News: Alec Waugh, brother of Evelyn, is dead. Bed at 11. Ally had gone at 9:30.

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Sunday September 6, 1981

 _. 12th Sunday after Trinity

Up at 9:30. Ally brought tea and toast to bed. Afterwards I painted the hooks holding the picture frames on the bedroom wall. They were annoying me.

I sat reading Charles II [Antonia Fraser]. Ally cooked a massive lunch, brisket, cauliflower cheese, &c. Afterwards, before 4:30, we went to bed, in the glow of a pink lamp. Tony Blackburn on the radio, very annoying, and afterwards we watched, whilst still abed, a film about the widow of an assassinated U.S president marrying a Greek shipping billionaire and living happily ever after. Of course it couldn't ever happen in real life. Watched part one of a Churchill drama with Robert Hardy playing Winston and Sian Phillips as Clemmie. Quite good.

Mum phoned to ask how the wedding went. Auntie Delia phoned. I'll give you the details tomorrow.

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Saturday September 5, 1981

 _. Extremely hot. Ally went off to Catherine's at 10:30 and I made my way to St Cuthbert's Church at Heaton, at 11:30, and sat alone in the church. 

It was my first experience of a Roman Catholic wedding and Mass. Bridesmaid Ally looked like a peach, and I got a smile from her as she passed down the aisle following Miss Brook. Hard to believe she had been up most of the night supping with her in-laws. Roman Catholicism is so unwholesome. It looks fine in Turin or Castel Gandolfo, but seems a little out of place in Bradford. 

We prayed for Pope John Paul. I do not object to that - he's a likeable old stick. The Irish priest went on and on, but at about 1pm Ally [clutching her bouquet] and I were taken away in something like a Peugeot to Steeton and the Currergate Hotel. Hot there and no good really because Ally was on the top table and I was with a party of comedians. Occasionally I caught Ally's eye and we beamed. I was partnered with a Miss Binns, in a pretty blue frock, who, because of the heat, became faint, and escaped to the garden, leaving her turkey sitting on the table. Sweat poured off me. A vast 'wedding breakfast' consisted of asparagus soup, a fish in mushroom sauce, then roast turkey followed by a fruit salad.

The Curregate Hotel.

We had drinks in the garden afterwards and declined an invitation to an after party in Riddlesden, and came home at 6:30. Sue and Pete were there waiting for us. Sue is bigger, of course, but well. Peter was great fun. We went to the Reservoir pub on Daisy Hill, and then to fish and chip shop [for the Nasons, not for us], and then to Mucky Willies. Sue wants to call the baby Benjamin, but Peter doesn't approve. She is also fond of the name Paul, or Katie or Clare for a girl. We were home by 10pm. In two hours we had only managed 2 drinks.

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Friday September 4, 1981

Mum and Dad.

 _. Ally is just taking a photo of me as I write this, flat on the floor, fountain pen in hand. The film in the camera, she says, needs 'using up'. 

A peaceful day at the YP thanks to the absence of 'Mrs Slocombe', who has gone on a European tour with her boyfriend, the 58 year-old ex-president Jimmy Carter look-alike, Mike. Kathleen working 5pm-12. 

Home at 6. Mum and Dad came here at 8 and stayed until after 3am. A very successful meeting. Dad went over the road to the Corner shop and came back with a bottle of gin and orange juice. I carried up chilled bottles of lager from the cellar. Don Cortez wine, and some of Dad's home-made wine completed the damp repast. We had prawns to start, then lamb chops [for which I have a passion], and a big salad. Cheesecake afterwards. Mum hit the piano and played Debussy's Clair de Lune, and Ally amused us with a quaint old piece. We sank some booze. Mum told us tales from north of the border _______.JPH keeps breaking Alec Clanachan's windows, just for fun, and Maria isn't eating. John says 'she's smoking instead'. Maria's friend from the village, Denise, is now living in their caravan at Lochans. Dad fell asleep after 12 and the three of us sat until 3 nibbling at the cheese. After they left Ally went off to bed and I did the washing up until 5am.

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Thursday September 3, 1981

 _. Mum Phoned: Susan, she says, has been to hospital and has undergone a 'scan' which revealed she isn't as advanced as she thought, and baby Nason is no longer due on December 28, probably four weeks later. We haven't seen Mum and Dad for a couple of weeks. They're coming to dinner tomorrow.

Meanwhile, this evening we paid a visit to Morrison's. No matter how sparing we try to be we always put £10 worth of shopping into our basket.

Had fish and chips at Mother Hubbard's, the standard of which has greatly improved since our last visit to that Harry Ramsdens-look-alike. On then to the home of Catherine Brook, shortly to be Alderson. We took our wedding present [Habitat tins], meeting David [Alderson] on the way who was having a spot of bother with his wheel trims. We spent a couple of hours at the Brook residence and detected no signs of panic or chaos. They looked at our wedding pics and Mrs B's verdict was that Ally looks like a fashion model. At 10 Catherine and David took us to view the Alderson marital pile, a semi. I prefer little Club Street any day. Their neighbours are either Greek Cypriots or Chinese.

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Wednesday September 2, 1981

 _. Spoke to Mum from the YP. She's bright and cheerful again. She's having the three piece suite re-upholstered. A man is coming to take it away on Sept 18, and they go to Italy on Sept 20. The car has had a re-spray, and the kitchen is to be re-designed by David. This apparently in Plan B. Plan A was the Stonehouse Inn.

Home at 6. Omelettes and salad. Afterwards I was back to my painting, though I'm far from happy with a distant cottage, the colour won't come. Everything else of course is pure Stubbs. I insist that we frame my effort soon because a painting in a frame immediately becomes a good picture. How sad. 

Dave G phoned to ask Ally to ask Frank if he can give a job in Guernsey to a girl from the Robin Hood pub. Frank of course, is now regional director for Barclays in the Channel Islands.

Tonight we read and watched TV. Trevor Eve in 'Shoestring' a very unconvincing private detective, and then, before bed, half an hour of a shoddy Liz Taylor film from 1974.

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Tuesday September 1, 1981

 _. It's hideous getting out of bed. To the YP. Guess who phoned me at lunchtime? Yes, Christine Braithwaite, no less. She wanted some info from an advert in last Wednesday's EP.

I came home to a lovely surprise. Ally has bought me a canvas. I sat until 10 creating a landscape from a photograph. Bed early following the excesses of the weekend.

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Monday August 31, 1981

 _. Bank Holiday in UK [except Scotland]

I was ordered to the greenhouse to water the tomato plants whilst Bessie cast her expert eye over a knitting problem encountered by Ally. They're knitting baby clothes. Bessie chose some wedding photographs for her collection.

Bessie gave lunch for us and Graham and Gill. Salmon, lamb, and chocolate gateau. We left for home at 5:30. Back to Club Street at 10:45. Watched an hour of The Omen, starring Gregory Peck. To bed. Exhausted.

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Sunday August 30, 1981

 _. 11th Sunday after Trinity

Up at about 10. We were denied the usual vast breakfast because were were going out to lunch. A great debate on the location took place first. Joined by Graham and Gill and Andrew [clad in his leatherwear, astride his gleaming machine] and off we went to the Plough at Sparsholt. Spent a couple of hours in the beer garden. A plastic ploughman's lunch, beer and gin. Graham is a delightful 'show off', and has been encouraged in this attitude for his whole life by his father. Bessie was drinking gin, and had the giggles.

Ally at Avington.

Back at the house Frank disappeared into his study with a bottle of paint stripper and we didn't see him again. Ally says her father finds relaxation a bore.

Ally and I went for a walk in the grounds of Avington House, in the village, and drifted inside to be given a guided tour around the impoverished mansion by the owner, a Colonel Hickson, who has been there since 1953. He's a bluff old boy trying desperately to keep the place afloat. It's a fine 17th century pile built by the Duke of Chandos, and, according to the colonel, Charles II and Nell Gwynn stayed there.

Afterwards we went looking for blackberries, and whilst midst the brambles Ally suggested going to dinner at Salisbury. Such a good idea. Off we went to the County Hotel [a Berni Inn] for a rump steak. A group of very noisy Americans were at the next table. Salisbury Cathedral, floodlit, is one of the finest ecclesiastical erections I have ever encountered.

Back to the Plough, Itchen Abbas, at 9:45 to join Graham, Gill, her brother, Peter Lynn, and his heavily pregnant wife, who are moving to Ayr on Monday, or Wednesday.

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Saturday August 29, 1981

 _. After breakfast we took off in the Triumph Dolomite, at speed, with Bessie to Southampton. We went to Habitat to buy Jill and Tim a decanter and glasses, and some tin boxes for Catherine and David. We went to Woolworths for some wire and then back to Martyr Worthy for 1:30. 

Chilland Barn.

Graham and Gill took us to the Cricketer's at Easton, full of flies, but had an excellent lunch. Ploughman's lunch with Stilton. 

After lunch Ally and I went to Alfresford and bought an old photo, an Edwardian lady, in a frame. She's called Phyllis.

Later, at 6:30 Frank and Bessie took us across the road to Chilland Barn, the beautiful home of Freddie and Avril Hargreaves. They are Welsh and he has made his millions as accountant to the Julian Hodge empire. They were very friendly. I came away with feelings of envy, which I do not like.

To Southampton with Graham and Gill at 10 to Lalupa's for a moderate pizza. Back to Graham and Gill's at Chandler's Ford for whisky.

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Friday August 28, 1981

John and Raine Spener at Althorp.

 _. Hot day. After a couple of hours at the YP with a very bronchil Mrs Slocombe and Kathleen I was met by Ally at 12:30 and off we went for our Bank Holiday break. It was a warm and clammy journey down the M1, in chugging Audrey. We arrived at Althorp House at 3. A splendid house, and not too large. We were given a guided tour around the Spencer pile by an old lady with a blue rinse and pearls. Sadly, the Spencers are away. Johnny sometimes greets the guests himself. It is obvious that Raine [Countess Spencer] has made her mark here. The guide hurried us past the Van Dycks and the Rubens and the Vermeers to bring our attention to a shoddy portrait of Raine's grandfather by Oswald Birley. The desks too, all Chippendale, groaned beneath Raine's family album snaps. Althorp is undergoing some renovation work and some of the rooms are beneath dust sheets, and scaffolding clings to some of the facades. But all the same it's an excellent joint. We also inspected the gardens. We had salad sandwiches in the car.

After a three hour drive we were in Martyr Worthy [our only other stop was at Brackley, where we had 'flat' lager in a pub there].

Bessie was in her usual state of high fluster and Frank was in his study, and this too is undergoing some renovation. Graham and Gill came in from a night at the Plough. He is more delightfully silly than ever.

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Thursday August 27, 1981

 _. We are both becoming weight conscious. This morning Ally [naked] weighed in a 7st 5lb, whilst I [naked] weighed in at exactly 12 st [that's 192 pounds]. I think this is the first time I have committed my weight to paper. In fact, I rarely ever weigh myself. I recall that in the summer of '77 I was a feeble 10st.

As I headed out to the office today Ally mumbled something about seeing a solicitor today to cite Delia as 'the other woman' in her expensive divorce case.

Auntie Delia.

Just Kathleen and I in the office. I went out at 12 to meet Delia on Wellington Street. She pleaded that parking in town is such a bore, and says 'come back to Horsforth for a Martini on the lawn'. And so it came to pass. We sat on the manicured lawn at Ivory Towers. She made me salami sandwiches and we sank a bottle of Martini whilst Delia flicked through the wedding photos. She commented that Ally's dress was exqusite. The house was deserted but for the Shih Tzu dogs. Sarah is somewhere with Trevor and poor Delia doesn't have a clue where he lives. Most odd. She deposited me back at the YP for 1pm, but my rushing back to work was in vain because Kathleen decided to work through, sacrificing her lunch. An industrious afternoon.

Mum phoned to say she and Papa were just about to leave for Scotland.

Home [82 degrees farenheit]. Went out for fish and chips at 8 o'clock. Phoned Dave G. Jim sounds to be fading. Lily was very depressed. 

I packed the suitcase tonight in readiness for my first visit to Chillandham Cross as a member of the family.

-=-

Mick Jagger on 'Top of the Pops' looks so healthy for his 63 years.

Wednesday August 26, 1981

 _. Extremely hot. YP. Too hot to work. 'Mrs Slocombe' went off home early with a 'cold'. She has always been very bronchil.

After lunch Ally phoned. Gillian is driving her to distraction. She is so sick of work at the AHA.

Delia phoned suggesting we meet for lunch tomorrow. Does Auntie have lustful designs on my firm, youthful and nubile form?

Home at 6 and spent some considerable time in the bath watching Ally paint her finger and toe nails. We then went to Lynn and Dave's at 7:30 for fish pie - too much food. We peeped in on Frances slumbering in her cot. We marvelled at the little miracle which gives lovers such fruit. [Blimey, that sounds almost poetic].

Home after 11. Bloated.

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Tuesday August 25, 1981

 _. Up at 6:30 and out to inspect the blackened street. It wouldn't have been such a loss to have lost Audrey in a ball of fire last night. The insurance money would have been nice. Over toast and syrup with Mrs Rhodes I discussed the possibility of bringing the youths back to finish the job properly.

The YP was abysmal yet again. The office is becoming deader and deader. The only excitement came at 3:20 when Margot swatted and killed a particularly annoying fly.

John & Maria.

Home to my loved one at 6. I phoned Mum to tell her of last night's excitement and she informed me that John and Maria will not be coming down from Scotland for Jill and Tim's wedding. Mum says John cannot have the day off work, and mournfully adds we won't be seeing them until Christmas.

Ally had created a marvellous tea. Succulent sandwiches including prawns and cheese. We cuddled on our little settee. We watched part two of the drama about Charles Dilke, and the scandal of 1885. Good, but not very convincing. Charles Dilke stood about much chance of becoming prime minister as Jessie Matthews, if you ask me. To bed with Charles II. We had eaten too much. I feel very 'Falstaffian'.

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Monday August 24, 1981

 _. St Bartholemew's Day

The anniversary in 1572 of the slaughter of 30,000 Huguenots by King Charles IX of France and his infamous mother Catherine de Medici.

Abysmal day at the YP. I use the word abysmal because Graham, my brother-in-law, uses it constantly to describe virtually everything from my green SAS-tyle trousers to his cold corn on the cob at the Connection restaurant. I spent the afternoon reading about Ronald Reagan's attack on Libya, and wholeheartedly agree with his decision. He may wear too much Brylcreem, but he's no fool. Articles about Joan of Arc in the Guardian and the Sunday Telegraph magazine.  There's a rumour going about that Carola Godman Irvine is to be the Princess of Wales's lady-in-waiting. She's currently one of the Duchess of Kent's ladies.

Sarah has gone on holiday for the week. Phoned Mum and spoke to Lynn, lunching there with Frances. We are dining at Burley on Wednesday. Mum is thinking of going to Scotland for the Bank Holiday weekend.

Audrey.

Home at 6. Had kidneys and rice. We discussed going to Hilda and Tony's but decided to go tomorrow instead. Ally disappeared outside with a bucket of soapy water to give Audrey a wash. The car hasn't been touched with a wash leather since we entered into Holy Matrimony.

Watched a drama on the life of Sir Charles Dilke, 2nd Baronet [1843-1911]. Quite good.

To bed at 11:15 but, dear me, the night was far from over. At 11:30 I heard the noise of a fracas outside and looking out I saw three youths, obviously intoxicated, urinating upon Mrs O'Connor's gate. [sorry, I mean Mrs O'Brien]. The boys had pushed a broken down car into Club Street and then went off with a can, laughing, to find petrol. I then went back to bed only to be rudely awakened at 12:15 by Ally screaming. Outside the lads had set fire to the car and the flames were licking around Audrey, threatening to blast our car and the whole of Club St into oblivion. Ally, in floods of tears, answered the door to Mrs O'Brien, who was worried about our car. I phoned 999 and the fire brigade and police were soon here. It hadn't been a deliberate attack. One of the drunks, pouring a can of petrol into his tank was also smoking a cig, and ignited the fuel. Sorry, I cannot give you a tale to match Pepys's account of the Great Fire of London.

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