Sunday April 24, 1983

 3rd Sunday after Easter

A sunny, fun-packed day. We decided to go out for a walk and went across to the cemetery which is a very fine one, and well kept, and we strolled amidst the tombs.We laughed at some of the names and looked in horror at one of an old boy who is buried with his pet dog. We returned home after an hour and had a few glasses of beer and then went upstairs and climbed into bed for a couple of hours. A delightful giggle. _______. We later took a hot bath together. A tangled, soapy occasion.

A casserole and Yorkshire puddings. Revisited 'Brideshead Revisited'. I dislike the sloppiness of it all. The book is far better.

-=-

Saturday April 23, 1983

 St George's Day

A quaint little chap wants the prime minister to declare this day a national holiday. Most other nations have a public holiday on their saints day. I agree. May Day with all it's lefty implications should be put aside and this day celebrated instead. 

The morning paper reveals the discovery of Hitler's diary. I am sceptical. Just imagine: 'Sept 1, 1939: Sleep in. Boiled eggs for breakfast. Invade Poland after lunch. Dine with Josef (Goebbels), and Martin (Bormann). Uneventful day.' I find it hard to believe that this evil little man would commit himself to paper. Lord Dacre of Glanton has laid his reputation on the line.

The premier barony of England has changed hands.The 27th Baroness de Ros has died aged 49 and has been succeeded by her son. Lord Mowbray can no longer call himself premier baron. No mention of the garter knights.

-=-

Friday April 22, 1983

 Woke up to the sound of the pleasant thud of a book posted through the letter box. It's the Duchess of Devonshire's book 'Chatsworth'. No communication from a brewery. Made breakfast and switched on the TV. The morning news reveals that the Duke of Norfolk, Admiral Lord Lewin and Lord Richardson of Duntisbourne have been given the Garter. For eight years I have expected the Duke of Norfolk to be honoured. He is the Earl Marshal. Lewin saved the Falklands, and Richardson has been top man at the Bank of England since we came off the gold standard in 1917. No mention of the garters in the Daily Telegraph.

Ally goes off. It's the saddest part of the day when we part. I phoned Susie and asked her to look in the Leeds phone book to give me Geoff Hemingway's home address.. He lives at Fartown, Pudsey. Christopher was brandishing the telephone. The Menston house deal is coming off. I later baked bread and made a gallon of tea wine. Sarah phoned for no particular reason. Eileen is going in next week and they are considering setting her on part-time during the holidays. Played with my Paul Signac (painting) and studied Burke's peerage to work out the co-heirs to the barony of Butler.

Ally home at 5 and we ate simply - eggs and chips. Sat in a heap afterwards. An evening of quiet domesticity. A thunderstorm raged tonight and it was crashing like hell. I am sick of the looming general election. The revolting David Steel thinks that the choice of the all important election date should not be with the PM and that it should be fixed like in the USA. Election day, over the Atlantic, takes place on the first Monday after the sixth Tuesday after the last day of Lent. Stupid fool. If Steel ever became prime minister he would sing to a different tune. The SDP are acutely primative. (Roy) Jenkins is their 'PM designate'. Only the Queen can appoint a pm and it is most improper and constitutionally wrong to pre-suppose Her Majesty's decision, nay constitutional right. A political party can only select a leader.

-=-

Thursday April 21, 1983

 Birthday of Queen Elizabeth II

The fifty seventh birthday of Her Majesty the Queen. Buried in bed beneath my quilt singing along to the National anthem on the radio. Has HM filled the vacancies in the order of the Garter? I expect to see the membership brought up to full strength on Saturday. I like to see good old fashioned aristocratic appointments. 

Biting cold. Went out and bought at Daily Telegraph. Nothing in it by way of scandal or possible stuff for tip money. Lord Buckinghamshire has snuffed it. I was thinking his peerage was doomed to extinction after the dead peer and his successor, but I see the new heir is a baronet with three sons on the Isle of Wight. Lord Brownlow is to sell Belton. Rumour has it that the Prince of Wales wants the place because the princess is reported to be dissatisfied with Highgrove. 

Baked bread and daubed at my Paul Signac copy. Watched an Audie Murphy western on TV. Was he the most decorated American soldier in the Second World War? I think so. 

Ally got off the bus in the company of that horrible tart who used to patronise the Staircase pub up the road. We ate fish pie and watched the news. The Waleses are in New Zealand and we saw them toasting the Queen at a banquet at Government House. Ally says this is such good training for Diana. 

I wrote to Geoff (Hemingway) and Kathleen. Geoff's was a letter of thanks for his assistance with my application forms, and the note to Kathleen was to say thank you for the camera. I never expected to receive such a gift. Carol J had to make do with a dictionary. 

Ally has taken to calling me 'Willie'. I cannot think why. We are in to nick names in a big way and have used them in varying degrees of 'sillyness' since our courtship blossomed in 1979.

We watched the 9 o'clock news together in the dark. An ageing US astronaut is to run for the US presidency in '84. I think Ronald Reagan will stand again. He may well be 93 but he looks great. Many people are capable of making important decisions in advanced age. Look at Lord Denning for instance. In royal news: the Duchess of Kent has had an operation for the removal of an ovarian cyst. Does this mean that HRH is no longer fertile? I am not up on the workings down under. Ally is reading out loud from the Daily Telegraph. She enjoys spotting misprints. We missed 'Soap' on Channel 4.

--=-

Wednesday April 20, 1983

 A bright and sunny morning. Up at 7 and made Ally her egg. Switched on the TV and listened to Selina Scott. TV-am have sacked everyone. Took my daily stroll to the newsagents and returned home and washed all the windows. Mum phoned to say they are to call in on me today. They're doing Lynn and Sue this afternoon and dining later with John and Janette. _________. They arrived at 12 looking fit and well. Business hasn't been too good since Easter but they have a few bookings for Saturday because it's the Three Peaks Run. We had a few drinks together. Dad wants to buy my 'Oude Vinck at Lynden' oil painting and I smiled bashfully. Inspired by praise from Mum and Dad I took up a blank canvas and painted a snow scene copied from Paul Signac's 'Boulevard de Clichy, Paris'. Very successful. Ally was home at 5 and we had chicken curry, and felt hungry afterwards. ____. 'Dallas' was gripping. Sue Ellen found JR in bed with Holly and took to the bottle and crashed her car. What makes matters worse is that she had Lucy's lover Mick with her in the car at the time. Ate scones and jam. Bed at 9:20.

-=-

Tuesday April 19, 1983

 Rain all day and an unwelcome chill. Ally went off into the grey and we watched each other until the green  bus carried her away. I took up my paint brush and daubed with my picture but stopped after two hours to let the thing dry. Oils can be messy. I sat afterwards reading 'The Three Musketeers' and drinking coffee. I ironed some sheets and pulled the carcas of yesterday's bird to bits and made a chick soup. Ally was home at 5:20 looking damp and we went straight out and to the Richard Dunn Sports Centre where we swam around for 45 minutes. I think we did 20 lengths of the pool but it's an odd shape with an island in the centre from which noisy children insist on diving and distrupting our calm. We climbed out feeling suitably exercised. Acheing limbs. Didn't get home until 8. Both cold and hungry. Chicken and dumpling stew. Watched  the fabulous 'Minder' with Cole and Waterman - a genius combination. Took to our beds after 10. Lay with our books. I am gripped with the excitement of D'Artagnan's quest for Anne of Austria's diamonds. The book is something which all eleven year olds have mastered and I feel guilty reading it now at the onset of my fortieth decade.

-=-

Monday April 18, 1983

 The alarm sounded off at 6:54 and was too loud and it threw Ally into an Adolf Hitler mood and she lay seething in bed yelling naughty words at her long suffering husband who was downstairs preparing her breakfast. She eventually came down at 7:30 feeling better but was still dangerous. I went to clamour for a Daily Telegraph and the newsagent reported to me that sales of the YP have 'gone stone dead'. I wonder why? Ally went off looking like something that would be safer in a zoo and I was left alone for the day.

At 9:45 I went to the employment exchange and queued with the unemployed Bradford lads. Does anybody actually work in Bradford? I was handed a slip of paper commanding me to report again on May 16. I asked no questions and took a brisk walk back to Lidget Green where I decided to take up my oil painting. I played with a still life which I started in September 1981, and made a start on a copy of 'the Oude Vinck Restaurant in Lynden' by Max Liebermann (1847-1935), the only German impressionist of note. I am obsessed with the colour green. When I next looked at the clock it was 3pm and I rushed around baking bread and trussing a chicken. Ally was in at 5 in a much better mood. I chastised her for going out in such a mood. We watched Coronation Street. Mike Baldwin wants to open a discotheque in Rosamund Street and the Barlows are campaigning to oppose the scheme. The Barlows are so boring and miserable. Mavis and Victor are back from camping in the Lake District. Saw the royal tour on the news. Bed at 9:20.

-=-

Sunday April 17, 1983

 2nd Sunday after Easter

Sunshine. We stayed in bed until 11. I was first to regain consciousness and crept away to make lashings of tea. We sat amidst the quilt talking about last night. I looked in my '73 diary. I first met Marita on Aug 25, 1973 when we went to Cinderella's. I spent £2.50 - an enormous sum a decade ago. We howled with laughter. Ally wallowed in her tub and I played a Michael Jackson LP so loud that he his dulcet tones reach up to the bathroom. At 2 we went out for a bus and made several good connections and arrived in Guiseley at 2:30. It was a toss up to see who we might visit first and decided upon Lynn & David.  We went to Thorpefields but found them in the middle of a furious argument about visiting Audrey and a DIY centre. We took Frances into the sitting room whilst they yelled away at each other on the stairs. It, the argument, was resolved, and they decided it was too late to visit Audrey and so we all went into the garden and sat around the garden shed like gnomes. Lynn is a fresh air fiend. Sue, Pete and Christopher arrived and it became a real family pow wow. Christopher chased the terrified Frances around the garden pushing her into the vegetable patch and pulling her hair. He is a terror. I took numerous photographs of the clan at play. Katie was reclining in her pram surounded by flapping white nappies on the washing line. The pram like a yacht in full sail coming into harbour. Like a scene from the 'Onedin Line'  - but bigger. David is a serious little soul. He took up a spade to dig the garden and Lynn suggested I joined him which I did for five minutes. Poor etiquette. Asking a guest to help dig is surely not on? Sue and Pete left and we went insidfe to escape the chill. Watched news of the royal tour on TV and joined the Bakers for Cornish pasties and beans. Frances, a little love, sat in her high chair digging at the dry food. Katie wheezed on the floor. Lynn says the poor thing has had a constant cold since she was born. Later David disappeared upstairs to draw and we had a couple of drinks with Lynn before returning home at 8. I was in short sleeves and felt 'parky'. Back at Clube St before 9. Bed at 10. Lynn leads a lonely life with David, who is increasingly buried in work. He's such a quiet little person too.

-=-

Saturday April 16, 1983

 We attempted to stay late in bed but we had our sleep broken by the numerous canine friends now in residence on Club Street. The dog at number 20 seems to like the sound of his own voice. A pair of incredibly brief swimming trunks came in the post and I slipped them on and paraded around the bedroom like a Greek slave boy. We thought that today we'd go swimming, but decided against it. Screaming kids  tend to take to the water at weekends. I hung a few pictures and busied myself. 

Phoned Sue but she wasn't in. Phoned Lynn but she went after a few seconds because she was in the midst of changing Katie. Chris and Julie (Baker) moved to Fieldhead last week. Dave L phoned to remind us that we arranged to see MM and Marita tonight. It's all foggy and vague to me. We are going to the Old Ball (Horsforth) for 8:30. Dave seemed dull or put out by something again. It must be hard for him living back with his parents. How the hell will we get to Horsforth? Ally seems to think it will be an adventure.

Eat greasy breast of sheep, then watched a ridiculous old film followed by the Badminton Horse Trials. Not so much as a glimpse of the sovereign in sun glasses and headscarf, which was a disappointment. I explained to Ally who the Duke of Beaufort is. She was confused, but probably not concentrating on the detail of my vast peerage knowledge. On the news saw the Waleses 'down under'. The princess was in a stunning off the shoulder evening dress looking like a film star from the 1950s. Watched them fly off to New Zealand with Prince William . The nanny looked tanned. Gone are the days when nanny was pale, fat and vicious.

Up to the bathroom at 6. Ally on the loo. I blame the lamb. Too fatty by far. We went out at 7:15 and spent two hours on the road and staggered into the Old Ball at 9:15 looking like a couple from the old coaching days. We sat with MM, Marita and Dave talking about car insurance and Denise's house on Oxford Rd. We drank sparingly and at 10:30 went back to the Matthews residence, a substantial semi on Rawdon Rd, where the sitting room is decorated like something from Homes & Gardens. Marita has installed a fine marble fireplace which she found in a junk shop for £70. We had supper and wine and a pleasant few hours. Reminiscing, but not too much. Poor Ally must be bored senseless lsitening to us banging on about the far off days of '73. Dave brought us home at 1. He stopped at Caesar's on Manningham Lane to buy tickets for Bauhaus. We went to our beds and lay awake until after 3. It was very warm and neither of us felt like sleeping. We are having them for dinner on May 7.

-=-

Friday April 15, 1983

 Feel groggy. We both do. I think we might be getting too much sleep. The usual boiled eggs but no breakfast TV. Ally went off very cheerful. She dosen't mind working now that she's the sole bread winner. It's put some purpose back into her life. I baked a loaf of bread and made two lots of beer and then splashed in the bath - cold water. Lay watching a fly on the ceiling. It must be the first one of the year. Perhaps I should write a letter to The Times about it. 

Walked to see Ally on Duckworth Lane and 12 but we were indecisive. The funds stand at £6 so we couldn't go wild in a pub, but after trudging around the Co-op we decided upon a quick glass of ale in the Traveller's Rest. Ken Ineson was in and Ally gave him a sheepish grin. We sat in the dark by the juke box for half an hour to cool down. I took my leave of her at 1 and went into town to spend the last £6 in the market on chicken, fish and vegetables and arrived home at 2. 

Sarah phoned with the cheerful news that I have a weeks wages to collect, my week in hand. I would have thought that this sum might be included in the severance pay, but no. We joked about (Judge) Christmas Humphreys, QC, who has died. When the old boy was retiring, about 5 years ago, the Daily Telegraph announced the fact every day for about three weeks. It became something of a joke. She added that my plants (chiefly spider plants) are missing me because I was the only one who watered them.

Ally phoned. The council have approved the grant for our new roof. We only have to put £85 towards the cost - £800 or so - which Steve O'Connor had estimated. Ally is beaming about this. I do enjoy seeing her beam,  _______. I feel as though I am not doing enough (to secure another career) yet I have written to breweries and can only wait. If all this fails I think we'll sell up and go abroad and sod everyone and everything. We pass this way but once. I am a gloomy sod, aren't I?

Ally was back with me for 5 and we feast. Talking about the weekend she says Dave L was offended at not being asked to Denise & Tony's wedding disco. I agree really, and feel the same. Denise came to our wedding and we have known each other for over ten years. Dave didn't even know that Denise was getting married until last Saturday when it was all over. We sat long into the darkness and didn't put on any lights. Reading The Three Musketeers. We retired at 10.

-=-

Thursday April 14, 1983

 We didn't want to get out of bed but finally did at 7:20. I have a retirement card on the doormat from Stephanie Ferguson which is thoughtful of her. When she leaves in June she is to have a marquee on her lawn at Leathley. She missed the party on Saturday because she went to the Grand National and was late back. I performed my morning ritual of hunting the elusive Daily Telegraph. I said goodbye to Ally who was standing at her bus stop with the bespectacled gent who plasters broken bones at the BRI. I arrived home to hear banging and much activity next door and went out to find Sammy (Greenwood) and the man from the corner shop battering at the Mrs Greenwood's door. I supplied a hammer and a policeman joined us. Mrs Greenwood was in a heap behind the door and the heat in her house was unbearable. The poor old girl had been there since 4:30pm yesterday when she went to the door to collect her evening newspaper and had been laid out waiting for help for 17 hours. Her kettle had boiled dry and her gas fire was throwing out tremendous heat. She was lucky not have burned the house down. It's dreadful to think she was spending the night in such a state just behind the wall from us. Poor old girl. She really is too old to live alone. Sammy, clutching his chest after they took her away in an ambulance. It hasn't helped his angina. The street buzzed with excitement. Old ladies love an ambulance, don't they? I sat and wrote two letters. One to Whitbread's and ther other to John & Sheila just to tell them of our changed circumstances. I baked a Victoria sandwich cake and put butter icing through the middle and icing on top. I am never out of the kitchen. Ally phoned and asked me to make a lasagne, which I did without question. She came in at 5 and we ate heartily. Afterwards, I spied a fat, red faced man marching into Club St followed by a pack of ladies. He was wearing a prominent red rosette and we immediately presumed that he is the ghastly municipal Labour candidate. He was knocking on every door bold as brass. Without further ado we ran upstairs and lay giggling on the bed until they went away. But first he stuffed some Labour propaganda through the door. Reading it I see that the Labour party is planning to create Heaven on earth. Club Street must be red, we decided, because Fat Man was received like Alexander the Great by all the old ladies, who littered his path with garlands and showered him and his entourage with all manner of affections. To bed early, well 9:30. Ally is done in.

-=-

Wednesday April 13, 1983

 New Moon

Up with Pig. TV and toast. They didn't show anything of the royal visit to Australia, which was why we switched on. I accompanied Ally to the bus stop and kissed her goodbye. She dislikes public acts of affection. I bought a Daily Telegraph and sent a couple of forthcoming marriage tips to Bob Cockcroft. Edward Lambton, heir to the disclaimed Earl of Durham, is engaged to Christabel McEwen, and Elizabeth Howard-Vyse, daughter of a general from Malton, is engaged to a clergyman. I phoned the YP and got through to Bob at 3 o'clock. He'd already seen them, but put me down for the Lambton one.

I baked a loaf of bread and then marched off out at 11:30 to join Ally. We went along to the building society on Duckworth Lane and invested £4,800 in an interest account which will grow by £30 a month. We fought off the desire to go sit in a pub and went to the Co-op. Kissing in the street again, and I departed at 1, and I watched her toddling off into the hospital grounds.

At home I prepared dinner. Cottage pie with peppers, onions, &c. Doing more work at home than I ever did at the YP. Susie phoned and we discussed Christopher's private parts. She was cheerful. They are buying a house, definitely, at Moorland Crescent, Menston. It overlooks High Royds Hospital, so it will be easy for her just to walk across and admit herself once she finally cracks up. I told her I was about to do some ironing and she asked: 'what exactly does that do?' She says she always wear crinkly, creased underwear. Ally came home early and caught me with the vacuum cleaner. We'd eaten and cleared everything away for 6pm. 

Dave G phoned, I may go over for the day on April 22. We watched 'Dallas' and went to bed after the news. I am fed up with talk about the next (general) election. I hope it will be in May 1984. You can go to the country too early. Look at Ted Heath in '74? I am reading 'The Three Musketeers'. At previous attempts I have never succeeded in passing the first chapter.

-=-

Tuesday April 12, 1983

 Up at 7 o'clock. A cold, but sunny day. Ally walked to Chestnut House at 8, and I have a terrible feeling when she has gone. ________. Out to see my jovial newsagent again and bought a Daily Telegraph. No scandal. Viscountess Bridgeman has had a son. She's a Turton from Whitby (landed gentry). 

Went out at 11 to town an appointment with the bronchil lady, who wants my P60 and national insurance number. I have to go back on Monday at 9:45 and report to bay 'C'. I wandered off whistling, and to HMV to look at the Spandau Ballet LP. I then went along to Kitchen Studios and saw a north country dwarf who told me that the new enamel sink is now on order and that he will phone me when it arrives. I then went into the marker and bought a half pound of Irish cheese for 50p. I'm sure you like to know that. 

Reading the blurb given to me by the bronchil lady it's very obvious that I am not entitled to any hand-out whilst I have £4,788 in the bank. Ally phoned at 2 and we discussed this. Would it be fraudulent of me to hide my redundancy money under an assumed name? I like the sound of Arthur Skeffington-Phipps. Mum is of the opinion that they will not investigate my severance money because I am trying to claim unemployment benefit, not supplementary benefit.

Sarah phoned and asked if I had received my cheque. She says she and Margo are miserable and that they keep looking over at my empty chair and sighing. Kathleen, they say, is being revoltingly cheerful in order to brighten the mood, but that it isn't working.

Phoned Horton. Joe and Anne Grunwell were there for the weekend, as were Lynn, Dave, Frances and Katie. They all had a riotous time. Mum says Sue had just phoned to report that Christopher has a hernia and is going in to hospital to have an operation later this week. For six months they have worried about his testicles, and when Jim inspected them at the weekend he insisted that something is seriously wrong. I am quite ignorant. What is a hernia, and how does one get one? Mum says the lad must have been born with it.

I created a fish pie and before you could say Norman Tebbit Ally was home. We sat reading and went up to bed disgustingly early. She was in a bit of a temper because she'd spoken to Frank who had annoyed her. He cannot understand what we want to do and seems to think we haven't seriously thought about the future. I think he sees her as a secretary behind a desk and doesn't understand she is bored of office life.

-=-

Monday April 11, 1983

 My first day as an unemployed layabout. In actual fact it was a day of great industry and activity. I wasn't bored for a second. Mind you, I am not the sort of person who could ever be bored. Some of my kinsmen might feel desolate and miserable when they are sitting at home, but not me. I was up at 6:54, and whilst Ally bathed I boiled the eggs and switched on the TV to avoid Steve Wright on Radio One. Selina Scott was presenting, but I switched off after three minutes. Ally went off to work at 8 and I went out and bought a Daily Telegraph to look at the BMDs. Not much really, other than the dishy Rachel Ward, actress niece of the Earl of Dudley, has married.

At 9:20 I phoned the YP and spoke to Paul Roberts in accounts. He told me that the mix up regarding my redundancy cheque is now sorted and so I told him I'd go in and collect it. I got the 72 bus at 11.I picked up a cheque for £4,788 from the pimply 17 year-old Mr Roberts, and returned immediately to Bradford. I made my way to the Employment exchange on Clifford Street where a cattle markert atmosphere prevailed. It could have been an acutely depressing experience for the sort of person easily depressed. Fortunately, I didn't let the place bother me. Queues of dejected 16 year-olds with holes in their jeans and with little hope of finding employment. I am to return tomorrow. I was dealt with by a girl with a very heavy cold, like a character from a Giles cartoon. I walked to the market - wonderfully empty - where I bought meat and vegetables. I returned home at 2 and prepared the dinner. I enjoyed putting the kidneys to marinade and mixing in the Yorkshire puddings, and making a strawberry jelly. Before you could say Robert Carrier it was 5:15 and Ally was home from her labours. I made her a dry Martini and fed her a good dinner. She smiled and said not many men could turn out such a repast. Later Ally wrote to Bessie sending her the £11 we owe for Anne's wedding present. Anne was Frank's secretary years ago. We counted the coins in the large whisky bottle which added up to £60.16. To bed after 10.

-=-

Sunday April 10, 1983

 Low Sunday

Woke up in a sleeping bag on the floor at 10. Went to vomit. Janette went off to sell caravans whilst John, looking remarkably robust, washed the glasses and calmly swigged on a glass of beer. Ally and I climbed into John's bed, but didn't sleep. We both felt ghastly. I had to make several journeys to the bathroom to  vomit with great retchings and much grovelling. I blame it all on the lack of food. I ate none of the quiche, pies and other party sundries. When I did force myself to climb out of bed John gave me toast and tea which revived me. The paracetamols were out. Ally joined me about an hour later and we gathered our things together and headed for home, with John at the wheel, via 'Mother Hubbard's' fish and chip place were we all had a greasy lunch washed down with gallons of tea and piles of bread and butter. It was a cold, thankless day. John left us at home at 4:30. We sat in a heap watching Mastermind from Winchester. Later we snuggled blissfully in bed. There's nothing like a fresh made, crisp bed. We recall arranging to visit MM and Marita next Saturday, but forget the details. Will have to phone. Tomorrow is the start of a new existence.

-=-

Saturday April 9, 1983

 Up early, and while Ally was making breakfast I went out to queue at a bakery for French sticks. We spent the day cooking and turning out 5 quiches for tonight. At 1pm I walked down to Morrison's and spent £20 on wine and bread rolls, and struggled back with my load. The day was warm and I discarded my pullover. Ally put the finishing touches to the food and we had a beer. John came for us at 6 and we loaded up the car and went to Guiseley. _________. John and Janette gave me a (Rolling) Stones LP and a belated birthday card. Sue and Peter came in at 8 after Ally had spent another few hours in the kitchen making egg sandwiches and putting lumps of cheese on sticks, &c. We went over to the Station (Hotel) and Janette followed 10 minutes later. I had a feeling that everything was an anti-climax and I was feeling far from festive. Sarah, Trevor, Brian Kay, two reporters whose names escape me, Margo and and a friend were the only people from the office. The Pudsey mob came, and Jacq in one of her 'Bette Davis' moods. Oh, then Penny Wark and Jill Armstrong, then Peter Lazenby, who gave me a badge "Workers of the World Unite". Back to the flat at 11. MM, Marita (thinner) and Chris Ratcliffe were outside waiting. They had been to Denise's wedding reception at the Nunroyd. She is now Mrs Barker. (Denise had married Tony Barker). Dave L arrived at the pub looking weird with a George IV coiffeur. Memories back at the flat - blank. I enjoyed Peter Lazenby's rendering of 'In The English Royal Family' and 'Three Ha'pence a Foot'. Peter Mather came in and sat in a corner with a boring little woman and they didn't speak. Tim and Paul think I am insane taking redundancy. They say I will be bored by Wednesday. We shall see. To bed, or perhaps I should say, to the floor, at 3am. 

-=-

Friday April 8, 1983

 I did my usual work and finished at 12, and went out to buy films for my new camera and go the building society, &c. I was late back at the office, not intentionally, which was odd because in 9 years I have rarely returned late from lunch. I walked quickly through a damp Park Square thinking of the many solitary lunches I have spent in its boundaries. Back at the YP Sarah was exclaiming and gasping.She had bumped into Marilyn Wheeler in town who told her that Carol J and 'President Carter' were married in Leeds on March 31, and are now living in Middlesbrough. We suspected as much. 

Work stopped at 2:30 when Kathleen returned and place the camera on my desk and a large card signed by everyone on the editorial floor. No fanfare and no Eamonn Andrews leaping out from behind a potted palm. All very low key. I know I said I didn't want a fuss but this is ridiculous. At 4 I took Geoff a paper cup full of wine and he was surprised that I haven't been presented with my gifts in the usual way. He came over to Kathleen who said: 'Oh, I didn't want a fuss'. To which he replied: 'But you aren't the one who is leaving.' Then, the real nail in the coffin came when I didn't collect my severance cheque. Kathleen phoned personnel to be told that the man who deals with the redundancy cheques is on holiday and 'can he come back on Monday for it?' With that I packed up my things and left. I kissed Kathleen goodbye as I departed. I may never go back. I want to see Geoff again and will find him at the Town Hall Tavern. I blame Kathleen for my shoddy treatment.

Home with my camera. All excited. We ate and retired early. The end of an era.

-=-

Thursday April 7, 1983

 My penultimate day at the YP. Unbelievable. Got in at 9 and found Sarah and Margo flapping about. Some ghastly homosexual is holding a 12 year-old boy hostage in Gipton.

Kathleen arrived at 9:45 with my camera and flash gun. She locked them away in a cupboard. I posted my Tetley's application form and Geoff says he will phone their PRO tomorrow. We'll see if it has any effect.

I went around the office asking people to attend on Saturday. Dave Pitts, Philip Thingy, Darryl Wills, &c. All were very nostalgic. 

At 12 I walked out as usual with Sarah and suggested having a quick one in Len's. She accepted. It's the first time we've done such a thing since either of us married. We talked about ___________ and the riotous night when Lynn & Dave got engaged. Even more nostalgia. ________. Back at 1. Spoke to Delia (who phoned for Sarah but I took the call). She was very gloomy. 

Kathleen was dull all afternoon and collected more money. £60 so far. Incredible and very touching. Later I phoned Dave L, who was sombre. He's coming on Saturday. Afterwards I phoned Marita, who is now living at 12 Rawdon Road, Horsforth, with MM of course. They are going to Denise's wedding on Saturday, but may come on afterwards.

Home for 6. We couldn't be bothered with the form filling. (I re-typed one to Sam Smiths). To bed at 9:30.

-=-

Wednesday April 6, 1983

 Off to the YP for the last Wednesday of my library career. Kathleen came to see me and said they have collected £52 for me so far, and asks what I want them to do with the money. I am astounded. I didn't expect such a sum. Bloody hell, Carol J only got a dictionary. I have a brainwave and went out at lunch time and looked at the price of an Olympus trip. (£39.50), at Comet, and a Phillips flash gun for £13.  Phoned Ally.

Saw Jacq at Dacres and told her of my impending 'retirement' and gave her details of the party. No doubt she'll come along with Lynne. Back at the office I made tea for the girls. It's the least I can do when they have collected so much. Sarah says that Bob put a fiver in and wrote a great epistle on my leaving card. It's Margo's theory that people give more when you stare at them intently when they take out their wallets.

Sarah says we have been instructed to fly the Union flag one day next week, and no one knows why. Is Diana to be made a Lady of the Garter, she suggests? No. The King will make his Queen LG when he succeeds to the throne. Is Andrew to become Duke of York? No. Not while Koo (Stark) is vacant. That would never do. Yes, if he marries a nice aristo like his big brother. Davina Sheffield, now Morley, had a son the other day. That is no reason to put up the flag. I'm intrigued. I am not going to be in on these things anymore, but to be honest I've had enough. I desperately need a change.

Home at 6:30 in sunshine. Complete Tetley's and Younger application forms, and agree to send them tomorrow. I phoned Auntie Mabel. She says she will pray for us in our redundant state. I get the impression that she thinks I am making a mistake. To bed at 10:52. Ally reading about a guest house for sale at Haworth for £46,000.

-=-

Tuesday April 5, 1983

 My 28th birthday. Snow on the ground, but sunshine. We had a bad night in bed and I hardly slept a wink. Nylon sheets are the worst thing since sackcloth and ashes. We slid around like Torvill & Dean. Eggs and bacon. Mum gave me a card and £5. They came into the bedroom singing 'Happy Birthday' Dad playing the spoons like an old music hall act. At 12 we went into Settle. It's market day and seething. Saw Alan Bennett, the playwright,  who came so close I could have reached out and touched him in ladies underwear. The ladies underwear stall at the open air market that is. We fell into the Royal Oak to celebrate the commencement of my 29th year. The place was doing a roaring trade. Ally say eyeing the bar staff. She is saddened because my presents are at home. Things like that do not worry me. We said our goodbyes and returned to Bradford. Karen and Steve are great fun.  We drove past the house in Haworth Road where, Steve says, a woman groped with his genitalia, in 1975. We collapsed. Ally gave me a card full of beautiful verse she had found in the Oxford Dictionary of Quotations. Socks, underwear, a book on home wine making, and a pullover, but says I can have the main present, an Olympus Trip 35mm camera next week. Went into a coma in the bath, and couldn't get out to speak to Dave G who phoned at 9. In bed for 9:30.

-=-

Monday April 4, 1983

 Bank Holiday in the UK (Except Scotland)

Up early and wallowed 'neath a soapy fermament. It is Uncle Peter's birthday. He is 54.

Sue and Peter came at 10 with a bruised and battered Christopher, looking like a survivor from HMS Galahad. He had fallen whilst attacking the neighbour's cat. We motored up to Horton. With Mama and Papa for 11:30. Papa looks ten years younger and both are loving every minute of life at Waltergarth. They gave Christopher lunch and we went to the Crown with Karen & Steve. We had a fiasco over a missing cornish pasty. The bar staff were agitated and accused us of eating one pasty too many. The place was swarming with Japanese hikers. Afterwards Dad decided to take us on a stroll across a plouged field and I fell, measuring my length in the sheep turds. Poor Christopher, clinging hold of his pushchair hand rail, with white knuckles and bilging eyes as we hauled him over the drystone walls. We returned to Waltergarth looking like Turkish mud wrestlers. Wine, women and song this evening. Watched Dudley Moore's 'Ten', boring. Steve snored in the chair. Joined by John from Scotland looking well. Sue and Pete went off at dusk and Karen said they would drop us off , but the time ticked by and we wended up staying another night. I was hideously pissed.

-=-