Tuesday February 19, 1980

_. Shrove Tuesday

Andrew: Duke of York?

Prince Andrew is 20 today, and in a few days time they are shipping him out to the USA on naval duties. Most of our recent kings have been sailors, and surprisingly many second sons have become king. I wonder whether in time he will be Duke of York in the steps of his grandfather and then King?

I devoured the traditional fourteen pancakes for Shrove Tuesday. Poor Mama started mixing the batter at lunchtime. After tea Mum and Dad went out for a walk, supposedly to walk off the stodgy pancake day offerings. Odd. They never go walking, and to do so on a dismal, dark, February night is startling, to say the least.

I spent half an hour trying to get through to Ally on the phone. She was speaking to Bessie [her mother]. She was sweet. I rarely phone her at night. Usually I ring first thing in the morning or when she's at the AHA. It was at the forefront of my mind that she was speaking to Sailor Dave. Am I developing a jealous trait?

-=-

Monday February 18, 1980

_. Ally remained here for the night after returning from Bramhope. It was much too late for her to return home [viz a viz the Yorkshire Ripper]. We sat on the drive, in the car ______________.

Seeing the boys last night was fun, but ooh the bitchiness of the conversation. It was like being backstage at the Miss World contest.

Morning: to work with Jim R. No Jennie because it's half term. Jim got on the subject of Kevin Keegan and how 'goody goody' the man is. I have deducted, from our frequent morning car runs, that Jim is drawn to people with, shall we say, an evil streak.  He so admires the disgraced President Nixon, and according to my chauffeur he was the most intelligent US president of all time. At the same time he is very scornful about Gerald Ford. How on earth can Nixon be the most intelligent president when he was almost impeached and in the end had to resign from office after the biggest scandal in US history?

At home this evening: nothing on the telly but the nauseating Winter Olympics from Lake Placid. I derived no pleasure from this and sat buried beneath Lady Donaldson's 'The Royal House of Windsor'.

Wedding fever is gripping the household. Twenty two weeks until Sue and Pete marry and they all talk of little else.

-=-

Sunday February 17, 1980

_. Quinquagesima

Leapt from my bed at 11 in a state of turmoil. I felt as through my throat had been opened with a bread knife. At breakfast I was bombarded, attacked even, from all sides, on the subject of my mindless attitude regarding the 'racket' last night. Even Dad was annoyed. He usually sits munching on breakfast cereal, his mind on greater things, like the state of the nation, President Tito's leg, and the twenty third heart transplant carried out this week. He said that when he was lying up in his bed in the dark, he really thought that Dave and I had brought an Indian elephant into the house. 'Why Indian elephant?' I enquired: 'Are they more heavy footed than the African variety?' It didn't go down well. He snarled and growled, and said that he didn't like been woken up by a circus act in the dead of night. Poor Rowan, the setter. Now banned from Pine Tops.

In the midst of the barrage of abuse I received a phone call from Jacq requesting my presence at the Commercial where she is taking dear, dear Trixie. I walked down to Esholt in the Spring sunshine. Spent a couple of hours in the company of Jacq and her increasingly attractive mother. Paul wasn't anywhere to be seen and we did not discuss him. At 2 I walked back home, in shirt sleeves.

Squabbled with Dad about his brutal pruning of the climbing rose tree which, in happier times, surrounded my bedroom window.

Marlene and Frank arrived with Auntie Mabel and the children. We sat for a few hours pulling other relations to pieces.

Ally collected me at 7. We went to the Fox, where we bumped into Martyn and Peter Mather. We followed them to the Fox at Bramhope, a place I have never liked. Met Chris R, Tony B and Linda [of Brands Hatch fame], who is with a new boyfriend but is still the same hilarious girl.

-=-

Saturday February 16, 1980

_. Saturday. Ally worked tonight at the Belfry.

Phoned Dave L. Out with Sue & Pete to the Fox & Hounds [Menston], and met Dave who has the Gordon Setter, Rowan, in the car. The dog is too friendly for words. To the White Cross, but Dave hates the place. He was happier when we bumped into Dave Popplewell, who came over to speak to him about mortgages. Dave is in a frenzy about house buying, and now that his parents have split he feels he should make a home of his own. At 11:30 we returned to Les Haute Pins and Dave came in for a drink, bringing the excited hound with him. We drank a couple of bottles of wine and Rowan ran freely around the house. At 2am Dave and the dog drove away down the lane in a stupor. I haven't seen him so pissed for years.

-=-

Friday February 15, 1980

_. Bid my fond farewells to Ally. She disappeared in a cloud of blue exhaust fumes. We are meeting on Sunday.

Exhausted and enfeebled. I spent some time researching the family tree of the Queen Mother. I compiled her ancestry back to Joan of Scotland's marriage to Sir John Lyon in the fourteenth century. I also traced the descent of George VI from Robert II of Scots, which shows that George & his Queen were 17th cousins [but they are more closely related through the descent of Cecilia Countess of Strathmore from Henry VII].

Phoned Dave L tonight. We plan to go out tomorrow for a drink. He wanted to see 'The Life of Brian' but I talked him out of it.

-=-

Thursday February 14, 1980

_. Valentine's Day

Left for the YP before the postman had been and so I didn't witness the arrival of the thousands of Valentine's day cards.

Delia phoned, and I was made to own up to sending her a card. She was chuffed to arseholes, if you pardon the expression. She could not recall when she last received such a tribute.

This evening I went by train to Bradford where I met Ally on the steam filled platform to the crescendo of violins. We were Trevor Howard and Celia Johnson in 'Brief Encounter'.

To Rue Club for dinner: something from the crockpot. At 9 we tore over to Les Haute Pins to join Mum, Dad, Hilda, Tony, Lynn, Dave, &c. It is rumoured that Tony has had a falling out with the Liberal party and that he won't be standing for the council again.

I have three Valentine messages. One posted in Leeds, obviously heavily disguised, is from Jacq, and two from Ally, just to deceive, one being home made.

-=-

Wednesday February 13, 1980

_. Ally phoned me at the YP to see if I fancy spending the weekend of March 22-23 at a cottage in Grassington, and all for a mere £12. How can we possibly let it go by?

We were visited in the office by the Hon Chris Monckton.

Met Dad and Michael Sansom at 12:30 and we went to Len's Bar for beer and sandwiches. They had been to Wakefield on a course playing in a mock demonstration, leading to a riot at the police HQ. Prancing police horses, riot shields, police women hurtling imitation bricks and flour bags, &c. All quite ludicrous, but more fun than the lectures they have attended throughout the week. Mike talked of his time in Hong Kong, and it's delights. Did you know that the capital of Hong Kong is Aberdeen? Left them at 1:30 and went to buy a couple of Valentine's cards. One for dear Ally and one for Delia. I sat in Park Square cleverly disguising my handwriting.

Susan cut my hair tonight. Sat looking at Mum clutching her red, hideously swollen finger. Dad made useless suggestions as to how to deal with the painful protrusion. He appeared with a roll of tin foil and a plastic bag. Needless to say, Mama did not entertain him.