Monday December 10, 1979

_. [Indecipherable other than] What now follows is an account of a week in the life of Mrs Melissa Teasdale [a nickname I gave to Ally].

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Sunday December 9, 1979

[Blank]

Saturday December 8, 1979

_. Got out of bed at 10am to MM on the phone asking Ally and I to attend tonight's wedding party. They are marrying at Rawdon Church this afternoon. I explained that we are having a Christmas party and cannot make it.

A busy day of preparation. Ally raided her Snoopy money box and we went into Bradford for hours of gruesome and frantic shopping. I was given the task of carrying £7 in pennies around the town. She had every intention of attempting to spend the coins in a supermarket. Obviously, I strongly disagreed with this ridiculous idea.

Back at Club Street I bedecked the house with decorations and festooned the tree with more balls. Inflated balloons too. Ally prepared a buffet, cheese things and creamy stuff whilst I huffed and puffed.

At 7:30 we went with Sue and Peter to the Dog & Gun at Apperley. Sue says life has been frightful at home today and Mum is behaving as if deranged and had been in tears on the phone to Lynn.

Back to Club Street for 8:30. Lynn, Dave, Mum, Dad, Jim, Margaret, Julie N arrived at 9. I felt long, uneasy silences in the gaps between the records. Mum was wearing a brave face but obviously not feeling herself, and Margaret, who is usually very noisy, sat straight faced and impassive. But then she moved over to the piano, raised the lid and banged away in a hideous fashion. It soon became clear that she cannot play a single note. She is nothing short of a lunatic.

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Friday December 7, 1979

_. This was one of those rare and wonderful Fridays when I do not suffer a multitude of self-inflicted agonies brought on by outrageous lashings of wicked, chilled alcohol.

This evening I returned home to find Mama tucked up in bed with stomach pains. I suspect they are probably pains of a menopausal nature. Dad and Sue were messing around making tea. I made myself a cheese sandwich. At 7 I was back on the open road to Bradford. It took an hour to get to Lidget Green. A tiresome journey across that dark city.

Ally I had our usual crawl around a few of the local taverns. Afterwards we erected Mum's 6" silver Christmas tree, adorning it with balls and flashing lights. This was a temporary measure just for tomorrow night's party because next week Dave B is getting her a real tree from Chris Baker's farm.

Ally fell into a coma on the hearth rug. Can you hear the distant toll of wedding bells perhaps?

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Thursday December 6, 1979

_. At 1pm I went out to do some shopping. My purchases included two dusters and a sink sterilising kit - wedding presents for MM and Marita.

Marita was having a farewell party at the Central and I took the peculiar yet innovative gifts along with a card I created for the forthcoming wedding. I was somewhat embarrassed at the reception my card received. It was circulated throughout the pub, to much hilarity and applause. I made my escape back to the safety of the YP.

Out tonight with dear Ally to the Drop. This pub is rapidly soaring to the heights of our affection. Jean Hanson, the adorable tenant, knows us almost as well as her own incarcerated family. I say incarcerated because young Geoffrey, her son, is frequently behind bars somewhere, and not the drinking kind.  The lad always looks so innocent and angelic too.

Fish and chips in Guiseley.

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Wednesday December 5, 1979

_.An evening of pleasant intoxication. Marita's pre-wedding booze-up of course. Dave L came for me at about 7:45 and the two of us went on to the Albert Inn at Yeadon. We were joined by Marita, her sister Carla, and a band of electricians and post office workers who all work closely with Marita. It took a while to warm up, but we were soon making merry. Marita can drink like a fish of course.

Ally joined us at 9:30 from her piano lesson and we stood at the bar with David. It really is shameful how Dave and I have drifted and lost touch in recent times. He has just taken up a post at a school in Brighouse on a temporary basis. He says the children are as thick as two short planks and rough with it. The very name Brighouse evokes a Dickensian scene in my mind. David mysteriously disappeared at about 10:30. Ally came back to Pine Tops.

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Tuesday December 4, 1979

_. To the YP by omnibus and found myself sitting on the top deck next to Peter Lazenby, armed with his copy of the vile 'Morning Star'. We sat in silence throughout and he handed me the rag to read, probably trying to convert me. I sat grunting at the ridiculous slant his paper puts on the current situation. Derek Robinson, the communist who has brought British Leyland to a standstill, is a 'hero', and Lord Carrington is being a 'provocateur' over the Rhodesian situation. I smiled because of the line the 'Morning Star' takes over the Ayatollah Khomeini. They cannot excuse his hideous behaviour and on this topic they side with the capitalist Yanks. Peter smoked his peculiar cigarettes throughout dropping piles of ash over me as well as himself. I shall more than likely attend Peter's birthday/Christmas party on December 15.

I wrapped a few Christmas presents this evening and then phoned Ally. Sue and Pete went out to a pantomime and I watched a Vincent Price horror movie until after 12. Mum and Dad were roaring with laughter about abusive phone calls. Kinky, eh? Bed at 12:27am with Adolf.

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