Sunday January 13, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

1st Sunday after Epiphany

News: Janette discovered on Thursday that she is pregnant. The news was whispered to Ally by Lynn in the midst of Samuel's party.

Mum and Samuel.

Our so-called 'day off'. I refer to is as an Irish day off because it is always busier than on a working day. Ally did a pile of washing and I cleaned out a greasy fryer. Then, who should appear but Hilda and Tony and little Hayley. We also expected John and Janette, to come break their news to Mum and Dad, but they didn't appear. Hilda and Tony stayed a couple of hours and the four of them messed around smelling each others hair after Mum had remarked that Dad's hair smelled 'doggy'. Her sense of smell is suddenly very acute. Mum asked after the health of Ruby's son-in-law to be told that he is having radium treatment and is very poorly. Hayley played with our wide-eyed Samuel and they both danced 'Ring a Ring 'o Roses' with Dad. We had a corned beef hash, and I scalded my knees with boiling lard making Yorkshire puddings and dancing around in the kitchen minus my trousers. I could easily become a naked chef. Mum was 'low' after her sister's departure. Her appetite is shocking.

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Saturday January 12, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

Mum: Jan, 1985

Samuel Lawrence Dixon Rhodes is one year old today. We are very proud parents. A busy morning. Ally opened Samuel's presents and cards in Mum and Dad's bedroom and we all sang 'Happy Birthday To You'. A bitterly cold day and I took Samuel out in his pushchair to Grandways to buy vol au vent cases and frozen sausage rolls. The little boy slumbered peacefully in his bright yellow snow suit. Back at the Moorhouse Ally met me to say Auntie Hilda had just phoned Mum, and she'd broken down afterwards. We made sandwiches and mushroom vol au vent and pottered around until 2.  After his sleep Samuel was dressed in his sailor suit to receive his guests at 2:30. Lynn and Sue and Co. A splendid tea. Samuel blew out the candles on his sticky cake, and then all the other children had a turn. Little Katie was sat with a large slice of boiled ham glued over her face, like a mask. Mum surprised the girls by her brightness and they thought she looks so much better than on Jan 2. Sam was mesmerized by his cousins. Dad, so good at parties, organised a game of 'cowboys and Indians'. It all fell apart by about 6pm. Downstairs, Karen, Steve, Jill and Tim came at 9 o'clock. Jill, pregnant, looked remarkably well but suffers from morning sickness and was violently sick over one of the mighty stone lions protecting the entrance of Leeds Town Hall recently. They went upstairs, but in pairs, to see Mum and Dad, who went to bed at 12. Our guests stayed until about 2 and the lads disposed of the birthday party left-overs. I went through the dictionary with Jill selecting suitable boys christian names. Her baby is due on July 12.

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Friday January 11, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

Out this morning into town to swap things at Marks and Spencers. Bought our son a pair of blue shoes for £8.99. Daylight bloody robbery.

Mr Tebbit has returned to work, three months after the Brighton bomb. Samuel Rhodes is growing in confidence on his feet and spends more and more time tottering around. Hard to believe he is one year-old tomorrow. 

Mum has made it quite clear she wants to say at the Moorhouse and not return to Swaledale or Guiseley. However, the brewery won't like the idea of us taking in lodgers, but we'll keep our cards close to our chest and not inform them. I do not want Rob Piper knowing because the dear boy is such a blabber-mouth. 

Ally stayed upstairs tonight, cleaning furiously. Cousin Sam appeared and asked about seeing Dad and he went away long-faced when I said he wasn't coming downstairs and into the pub tonight. Mum was watching a James Garner film. Ally and I do a good deal of whispering in corners these days.

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Thursday January 10, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

A horrible, sad day. A quiet lunchtime in the pub. At 1:30 Dad and I set off for Horton and from the start our emotions were damp to say the least. It was getting away from Mum, you see. We didn't have to keep smiles on our faces and we both blubbered in the Renault on the drive up. We stopped at the Anchor Inn at Gargrave for a pint of Theakston's. Dad spoke of the future. He will stay on at Waltergarth regardless, and carry on with bed and breakfasts without Mum. The sight of Pen-y-Ghent shrouded in snow was quite beautiful. The house, in darkness, was so sad. I was choked. I haven't ever seen the house without Mum bustling around. The neighbour Frances appeared and as she was leaving a woman phoned to book a week in August, and I had to tell her we could take no bookings due to Mum's illness. At this I crumbled. We packed up Mum's clothes. A nightmare. We left at 5:30 and returned to Club Street, then stopped off at the White Cross for a drink. Home for 6:30. Mum was bright. She had mixed some pancake mixture for her evening repast. Mum and Dad offered to baby-sit and Ally and I went over to the Butcher's Arms at Pudsey at 8:30. Saw Phil (of Phil and Denise fame), and then my cousin, Derek Myers. On at 10:30 to Jacomelli's on Boar Lane (Leeds) for T-bone steaks and a bottle of wine. Quite pissed. Ally says that Sarh phoned at 2 to say that a couple had been to the front desk at the YP asking for me. But who?

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Wednesday January 9, 1985

Sailor Samuel.

 Moorhouse Inn

Mum and Dad got up and decided to to to Guiseley for the day to see Sue. ______. Mum borrowed Ally's pearl necklace to adorn her precious throat. Lots of kisses goodbye and off they went. They returned this evening and looked exhausted after lunching with Sue and dining with Lynn. They had a good day, and both girls had been delighted to see them. Dad says these outings are very important because Mum needs exercise. Sitting too long makes her lethargic. We decided to drive to Horton tomorrow to collect more clothes for Mum. Her wardrobe consists of Lynn's large maternity clothes, a wrinkled pinafore dress and boots.

We went into town and spent a fortune buying clothes for Samuel at Schofield's. Lots didn't fit, but we found a sailor suit which fits to perfection. Back at home for tea Samuel was showing off his new outfit and suddenly set off and WALKED HIS FIRST UNAIDED STEPS. A miraculous sight. Our squeals of delight penetrated down to Maureen in the tap room. You should have seen the beam on his little face. Ally stood ironing tonight and I went down at intervals to see Audrey. 

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Tuesday January 8, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

Dray day. It came at about 9 o'clock. Ally did the bar at 11, and then from 5:30. She seems to be avoiding me, but says she's leaving me to be with Mum and Dad. Auntie Mabel phoned this morning and spoke to Ally. She has finally been discharged from hospital care ten years after her mastectomy. She asked Ally to pass this news on to Mum, but instead she told Dad who for some reason kept the news to himself. It seems that Mum is to be cocooned from any news these days and I am sure it is very wrong. 

Rob Piper came in at lunch full of cold. He had two large sandwiches and I told him about Mum. He says he has been obsessed by the thoughts of death recently and that he now drives slower on the roads and suffers from attacks of severe morbidity. It is his great age. He is 33. We promised to go see them at the Butchers Arms on Thursday.

A very overpowering health visitor came to look at Samuel and declared him to be perfection. It was a waste of time really.

Quiet tonight/ Saw a chunk of 'Gregory's Girl' on Channel 4. A sloppy tale of adolescent love. Mum enjoyed it. A few beers downstairs with Ally. Audrey worked. 

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Monday January 7, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

Cold. Snow lying here. Dad walked with Mum across Hunslet Moor for 10 minutes and I watched them from the kitchen window. It was very touching. 

We had a stocktake. A £3 deficit over a 48 day period and £15,000 takings. Very good.

Princess Margaret had an operation yesterday on her left lung and the bulletin says tissue was removed which is benign. They would say this though, wouldn't they? Here we are watching the lunchtime news and the possibility that Princess Margaret has cancer and Mum sits there apparently oblivious to her own condition. I have been reading about Princess Michael of Kent in the Sunday Telegraph. She is 40 next week.

Dead again downstairs. Had a handful of folk in tonight for the pool knockout and we provided the usual sandwiches. Kitty, the old crow, wanted pork pie, and so I purposely avoided her. I am like that. I only give pork pie to people I'm especially fond of. 

Ally opened up from 5:30._______. We have seriously talked about another baby. Samuel needs a sibling. He is obsessed by other babies.

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Sunday January 6, 1985

 Epiphany

Moorhouse Inn

Princess Margaret has gone into a London hospital for tests. The Brompton specialises in lung and heart problems. The TV news tells us that the princess smokes 40 cigs a day, and drinks gin by day and Scotch by night. Poor Princess Margaret. She never has any luck. At 54 she has that drawn look so reminiscent of her father King George VI. 

Lynn, David and girls called in during the afternoon. We had a quiet day upstairs with Mum and Dad and after Samuel's departure to bed we had roast beef and Yorkshire puds, &c off Minton china. Mum did very well and managed to eat a moderate portion. She has been cheerful today and determined to be brave for our benefit, I am sure. It cuts Dad to pieces to see Mum upset.

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Saturday January 5, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds

Mum had a very low day and sat in her chair weeping __________. Uncle John phoned and spoke to Dad.  She is worried about possible visitors. She only wants to see people whom she loves and who love her.

Our Christmas decorations came down today. Auntie Hilda phoned to say that Jill is three months pregnant. Joyous news. John and Janette came this afternoon (and drank lemonade!). Ally was out shopping. They talked about washing machines and passed furtive glances to each other when Mum told them of Jill's pregnancy.

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Friday January 4, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

Gentleman David's funeral. His girlfriend, a Mrs MacDermott, came here at 2:30 with a party of funeral attendees and we gave them sandwiches and coffee for £12. Ally was embarrassed to give Mrs MacD the bill and so I had to perform the task. They drank off Jessie Lapsley's china. I felt rough and shivery, no doubt going down with something. I stayed upstairs for as long as possible tonight but went down on the look-out for soccer rowdies because Leeds Utd are playing at home this evening (against Everton?). I sat in a corner looking like death warmed up. The customers were still eating David's funeral sandwiches this evening. Cousin Sam appeared and sat with us. He has been decorating for a week. He gave Uncle Harry a set of keys to his house - as a Christmas present.

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Thursday January 3, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

Katie Baker is two. Ally took Samuel over to Guiseley this afternoon to Lynn's where she's having a tea party. I snoozed on the settee which was pushed up to the gas fire. Mum and Dad sat holding hands together. Ally came back at 5 o'clock with a tale that Janette had seen a doctor who told her she must be pregnant, when in fact she isn't. _____________ .

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Wednesday January 2, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

Bank Holiday in Scotland

Mum and Dad's birthday. Mum's 50th. They came back here this afternoon and it was agony watching Mum puffing and panting climbing the stairs to the flat. We gave a party this evening and the family came over with presents and cards. Mum has developed a craving for seafood, particularly for crab meat. We had no prawns in the freezer and sent Audrey home to inspect her pantry without success. Janette and I went to the Junction and then the club in search of cockles and mussels but came back empty handed. Mum's appetite is adrift. They all left at 11 and we went to Mum and Dad's room and sat on the bed reminiscing about times gone by. Earl Stevens, &c. We didn't take note of the passage of time and we found ourselves wallowing in nostalgia until after one.

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Tuesday January 1, 1985

 New Year's Day - Bank Holiday in UK

Moorhouse Inn

The usual ghastly hangover. Bloody hell, Maureen didn't turn in and at 10:30 Ally and I were downstairs mopping and polishing. My hair was standing on end & I thought that the end of the world was upon us. We didn't go to bed until 5am. Sue is an angel. She took Samuel and gave him his breakfast and looked after the boy as Ally and I struggled below. Janette sat almost on top of the gas fire shivering. She really should see a doctor. Sam Snr came in with Uncle H fresh from Majorca. He gave us a Don Quixote wooden statue. Spain, he says, was cold and bleak. Audrey was dancing around in the bar - if not pissed then in very high spirits. We all had scampi for lunch and then the family left us in peace. I opened up at 5:30 but didn't see a customer until about 7. Maureen worked tonight and took a lot of hammer for 'knocking' this morning. Phoned Mum this afternoon.

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Monday December 31, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn

New Year's Eve is upon us. Ally fuming at the lack of interest in our so-called party. Peter phoned to say they cannot get transport and so we volunteered to go to Guiseley and collect them  which we did at 4. _____Back here we opened up at 7, and the evening proved quiet and was a typical Monday evening. Jacq Sate came in with the Winston Churchill look-alike. Both dressed as Romany gypsies and went on to a party on York Rd. She landed me a smacking kiss on the way out. I tried to tell Jacq that Mum is very poorly, but it didn't seem to sink in. Lynn, Dave, John, Janette, Sue, Pete, Marlene and Frank &c, all gathered. It was a very low key affair. Mum was only mentioned when absolutely necessary. Frank, sadly spoke of 'auntie Nora' possibly phoning with a new year message, but we know she won't be. I locked the pub door at 11:30, locking in the regulars, and Robert Millar stood guard at the door. Ally carried food downstairs, and we had a festive celebration. The tap room was dead. Three old men singing 'Auld Lang Syne' together. The lounge lot seemed jovial enough. Just the family went upstairs at 1am to attack our private booze supply. Sue desperately wanted to go to bed but we made her sit with us and drink brandy. We all talked about Mum, nobody wept, and we were very level headed about it. Lynn and Dave slept in the bunks in the office. Sue and Peter had a double bed with Christopher. John and Janette had the settee. She still isn't well. So, a year which began so full of magic has ended in tragedy and despair. God knows what '85 will bring. Poor Mother.

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Sunday December 30, 1984

 1st Sunday after Christmas

Moorhouse Inn

Auntie Mabel phoned and we had a long, chatty conversation. Hilda phoned too and was glad to hear that Mum and Dad are having a quiet weekend at Horton. Later, I phoned Horton. Dad was trying to persuade Mum to eat some roast chicken. Dad says the house is damp, cold and forbidding and they want to be back with us as soon as possible. He loves Waltergarth and the village, that is easily observed, and yet for some reason Mum, he says, is very bitter about the place. She enjoyed guest house life at first but this year has been disillusioned and recently yearning for Guiseley. Poor Pine Tops. How convenient would that be now. Nightmare, a bloody nightmare.

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Saturday December 29, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn

Uncle Albert died 15 years ago today. Mum and Dad got up early and went to Airedale Hospital where Mum saw Mr Hall and her stitches removed quite painlessly. I had an awful day after they had gone and wept hopelessly at the little things. I had been brave and void of hysterical emotion whilst they were here. ________. Drank a lot of whisky. Ally did the ironing and scurried around like a washer woman. Mavis worked this evening and I ran up and down the stairs to see Ally and top up with Bell's Whisky. Phoned everyone. David didn't put me on to Lynn because she was far away in a distant corner of the house. Do they perhaps live in Blenheim Palace, or what? He told me they'd been with friends last night to the Menston Arms and was surprised when I told him that Mum and Dad have returned to Horton. We were going to have a family party for New Year's Eve, but now Lynn and Dave might stay away -- 'We only wanted to come see Mum and Dad' was the remark. Susan is of a similar opinion, but John will come. Ally stood fuming over her ironing board.....

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Friday December 28, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn

I am compiling this by candle light, dear reader. We neglected the pub today, again. I do not feel guilty. We are 'coddling' Mum, as Dad says. Ally feels cold and shivery and she sat huddled on the settee. Tonight we all watched TV together, Mum and Dad holding hands by the fireside. Watched a ridiculous 'Miss Marple' play and I didn't go down to the bar until the very end. Mum stayed up to watch Barry Manilow. I find him quite horrific. This was followed by a chunk of 'Brief Encounter', Frankenstein and Count Dracula. I watched the horror films alone, clutching a glass of whisky and with a box of Milk Tray upon my knees.

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Thursday December 27, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn

We are still sitting around in festive paper party hats cracking nuts and scoffing chocolates. I never get the chance to speak to Papa in private and I do not know whether he thinks Mum is progressing, if at all. Her appetite is non-existent now. At lunchtime Auntie Hilda and Uncle Tony appeared and seemed stunned by Mum's appearance. Mum sat in a high-backed chair, her long, thin fingers resting on the arms. Hilda seemed to fix her eyes on them for ages, aghast at the yellowness. Mum was bright and laughing and drank several Beachcomber Creams. She now finds alcohol distasteful. Lynn, Dave and the children came in and Mum promptly went to bed. They had been to the 'January Sales' in Leeds. _________. I showed Hilda to the door and she looked quite dreadful and asked: "We are never going to have any results from these tests, are we, Michael." I shrugged and shuffled from foot to foot in the cold. The afternoon had taken it's toll on Mum's strength and for the rest of the day she was weary.

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Wednesday December 26, 1984

Moorhouse Inn

A quiet day. It was hardly worth opening. Mum and Dad stayed in bed late. She became more hideously yellow this afternoon, even her scalp where the yellow glowed through her hair. We went down to see Audrey in the bar but I came back upstairs at 2 and lay on the bed chatting to Mum. We ate a carbon-copy Christmas lunch at 3:30. Ally cracked a tooth on the Christmas pudding which had become brittle being over-cooked in the microwave. The piece of tooth hit the table with a crack and then disappeared. Archie came in pissed tonight and I gave him a few harsh words and off he went in a huff. A quiet gloomy evening.

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Tuesday December 25, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn

Christmas Day. Up bright and cheerful, 'O Come All Ye Faithful' blasting away on the stereo followed by Nat King Cole which choked me a bit. Mum was up and dressed in red and wearing a party hat for 10 o'clock when Lynn, Dave, Sue and Peter arrived with their multitude of offspring. Samuel was stunned at the sight of all the other children ripping open presents and playing with Christmas wrapping paper. We opened the pub from 11 until 1, and the day downstairs felt like a Sunday lunch type of day and wasn't over-festive. We were upstairs again by 2 o'clock and all the others left us, departing to Guiseley, and leaving us in peace. Mum cannot really cope with too much activity. I suppose it's very frustrating for her. Just as we sat down to lunch at 3 John and Janette came in with the children, except Hannah of course. Mum ate a good dinner but we didn't do anything too heavy. Turkey, new potatoes, asparagus, &c. We watched the Queen and then switched the box off. The TV is a nuisance at Christmas. The Queen spoke of family and showed a clip of the royal christening from last Friday (Prince Harry). A hoo-ha apparently because Princess Anne wasn't asked to be a godmother and so instead she went out to shoot rabbits on her Gatcombe Park estate. What rot. Collapsed after dinner. Mum becomes snappy on an afternoon, and realises this but can do nothing about it. Janette got her head bitten off for calling Dad 'Dad'. 'He's not your Dad', she growled. _________. Mum drifted back to bed at intervals. Dad was very pleased at the amount of lunch she consumed because her appetite is now non-existent. When Mum is out of the room Dad becomes very emotional. We gave them a Sam Chadwick print of Pen-y-Ghent and he knows exactly where it was painted from in Horton. F & B phoned and we all chattered. They sent us a gold carriage clock and we spent ages trying to get it to go. The battery was dead. A blissful evening with our feet up eating chocolates and drinking. I snored in an armchair for an hour or so. Mum enjoyed a sip of something called 'Beachcomber Cream' . By 11 we were all bushed. Dad and I had a pile of salmon sandwiches after Mum and Ally had retired and he very touched at our Christmas together and despite the sadness we all have etched upon us it has been a Christmas day of peace and thankfulness because we are so fearful of what next year might bring.

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Monday December 24, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn

Christmas Eve, and strange as it may seem it wasn't horrible. Out to the shops at dawn to buy booze, poultry and more booze. The car groaned beneath the vast weight. Ally went out again at 11, and I blew up balloons to festoon the tap room. Mum phoned to say they'd be with us for 12, and they did just that. Mum negotiated the stairs and puffed and panted to the top. We sat in the sun drenched lounge eating salmon sandwiches from the Minton china. Well, why not. Mum looked shocking in the afternoon. It is so good to have them here. The greatest Christmas present we could have asked for. Let us hope to God it won't be Mum's last. Life without Mum will be one Hell of a lot gloomier. It isn't until something like this happens that you realise how much you like your life for the other people in it. I have always done things to please her. The void will be unbearable. We only have one mother, don't we? Not hideously busy in the bars. I kept nipping upstairs this evening. Placido Domingo or Pavarotti was on the telly. It is a shock for me to see Mum slumped in a chair with no energy or bounce. Will she ever regain strength or is this the beginning of her deterioration? 

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