Friday April 4, 1980

_. Good Friday

A sunny day. Mum remained in bed, citing illness. Is she perhaps in her menopause? Is 45 a little early, perhaps? How should I know?

We peeled the roof from the Spitfire and, after the traditional hot cross buns, we went to the Commercial which was busy but lacking in atmosphere. This was always on the cards following Annie and Ron's departure. From here we went to the Drop, which resembled the Albert Mausoleum at Frogmore. Then onto the Ings to join Sue and a band of girls from Wendy Wools. I can see why Sue enjoys life so much at Wendy Wools - they are all tarred with the same brush and are insane.

Ally dropped me at home and went to the Belfry. I had a pleasant night at the White Cross, where old friends are gathered for the start of the Bank Holiday binge. Revellers include: Johhny, Gus, Chippy, Phil Goya, Debs, Michael Dixon, &c. I recall a disgraceful groping session with Jill, Naomi's live-in companion. Back at home Mama is still in her bed. We watched a Hitchcock film.  Ally appeared at about 11 in readiness for the clock to chime midnight and herald the start of my 25th birthday. Dear God.

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Thursday April 3, 1980

_. Mum and Dad have severed diplomatic relations and the atmosphere at home is far from deliriously happy. I arranged to go out with Ally and sat underneath the heavy, menacing cloud awaiting her arrival. She arrived after 9 and Jim and Margaret walked in at the same time. Jim goes into hospital on Tuesday to have the varicose veins torn from his ailing legs.

Ally and I went out for a drink for the first time since out trip to Cracoe on March 23. Had a couple of drinks with Sue and Janet Simon at the Fox [they were drinking cherry brandy at £1.70 a round!], and then to the White Cross. It was like a scene from the Crimean War. Chaos and maladministration throughout, and we only just made it for last orders at the bar.

Back at home the house continued frosty and dull.

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Wednesday April 2, 1980

_. A slight headache today which I put down to the plethora of wine last night. At lunchtime I found solace in the City library. I emerged blinking like a mole half an hour later with 'Prince Henry, Duke of Gloucester' by Noble Frankland, a new biography of the semi-obscure uncle of the Queen. Back at the office Derek Naylor spotted the book on my desk. He winced and cringed and looked as though he might vomit. It's funny how the subject of royalty can bring on such violent emotions. Reading it tonight I couldn't help thinking that I've read it all before. John and I were in Windsor in June, 1974, when the duke conveniently died, and we watched his funeral procession through the town.

Frost and ice in the atmosphere at Pine Tops tonight. Mum and Dad spent the afternoon in Masham and had a difference of opinion over something which disrupted relations for the remainder of the evening. Lynn and Dave came to tea, but the frost didn't thaw.  Lynn however was just as chirpy. Lynn and Dave go to Stranraer tomorrow to spend Easter with John and Maria. L left a bunch of fivers with Mum to hand over to me on my birthday.

Dad is very brooding and irritating when he choses to be. He is very like his father.

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Tuesday April 1, 1980

_, This evening I ventured to Lidget Green  for dinner with Ally. She concocted a spectacular lasagne which we ate with her very dry Beaujolais.  Spent the evening taping music for the party on Saturday. Ally sat reading 'Lady Chatterley's Lover', but has yet to find the naughty bits. I left at 10:15 and was home in an hour. It was All Fools' Day today.

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Monday March 31, 1980

_. Sarah saw Jacq in the Regent, without Paul, on Saturday. _________.

A night at home with the family gathered around the television. Saw Donald Sutherland and Elliot Gould in a film 'Spies'.

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Sunday March 30, 1980

_. Palm Sunday

Sunny day. Auntie Mabel came this afternoon with cousin Jackie, who passed her driving test last week. Jackie is very thin and like a Kampuchean refugee. They stayed to lunch. Roast beef, Yorkshire puddings, &c, and left at 6:30. We watched 'Why Didn't They Ask Evans' , a play by Agatha Christie in ITV. Francesca Annis playing Lady Frances Derwent, an aristo-sleuth. Good, but stretched out over three hours. Mum and Dad went out to the Birch Tree at Wilsill. They rarely venture out at night but Dad has an aversion to Agatha Christie. He paced up and down the sitting room like a caged lion, glowering at the TV screen and bearing a menacing expression. They returned at 11. Ally stayed the night.

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Saturday March 29, 1980

_. Ally came here at 1:30. Still feeling unwell she collapsed on the sofa and slept until after 5. We, the conscious ones, watched the Grand National on the BBC. Ben Nevis won at 40-1, and only four horses completed the course. In the small family flutter held for the event Ally won £1.50 [I placed the bet for her and she snoozed through it all unaware of her great good fortune].

We had a very important debate regarding Walter, the man who delivers fruit and veg to us every Saturday. Does he wear eye make-up? I say he most certainly does, but am outnumbered here.

Tonight Ally and I ate with Mum and Dad and we watched TV afterwards. When did we last stay at home on a Saturday evening? I bet it was almost a year ago. Up until 1am watching a Trevor Howard epic.

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