Friday June 27, 1980

_. Atrociously wet day. At least we were spared the tennis from Wimbledon. The sporting event was disrupted and our TV screens were free of tantrum throwing US schoolgirls with pigtails and mouths full of metal braces.

I first set eyes on Auntie Delia five years ago today, and so sent her a letter. At 7pm she phoned inviting me to tea on Tuesday. One of her friends recently likened her to the late Joyce Grenfell, and I can see why.

I'm now going to mention something that's been on my mind for a few days, even weeks. Namely the thorny subject of my membership of a trade union [NATSOPA]. I joined the union about two years ago, and at the time I didn't really want to become involved but, uncharacteristically, followed my colleagues like a paraplegic sheep. On June 20 the Daily Telegraph carried an alarming article stating that NATSOPA is about to sponsor the left-wing Labour MP, Ron Leighton, to the tune of £25,000 per annum. This move was stated as being part of an initiative to pep up the political clout of the printworkers union. Obviously, I sat seething at the prospect of donating 80p a week to the Labour party. Therefor, I vowed to cease contributing to NATSOPA funds and never again to follow others like a four-legged mutton carrying animal. I have yet to be confronted by the venomous FOC [Father of the Chapel, as newspaper print union chiefs are called]. She, the FOC, happens to be a woman who terrifies all who come into contact with her. I am, however, resolved in my course of action and will stand up against the bullying leftist militants, who try and walk over humble librarians.

Home at 6. Sat with 'George the First' by Ragnhild Hatton. Watched Peter Cushing in 'The Abominable Snowman'. Bed after one.

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Thursday June 26, 1980

_. Even wetter. Mum and Dad seem to be restored to a normal relationship. Mum was bubbly, and Dad quite unchanged.

YP: Anna Wallace features in the gossip columns. The Prince of Wales is showing a marked interest in the girl. Is it wedding bells in 1980? Oh, shut up.

This evening, at 7:30 I went to Bradford where Ally met me from the bus on Manningham Lane. We went to a little pub called the Black Swan, and then to the Bod, on Manchester Road. I did a fair bit of drinking there some years ago. We had a good heart to heart._______.

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Wednesday June 25, 1980

_. I got a lift from Leeds at 5:30 with Dave B, and we collected Ally. We ate with Lynn and Dave at Burley. Fish in parsley sauce. Afterwards we bought port and cans of beer and went to Dave and Elaine's at Over Lane, Rawdon, where we sat listening to tales of embarrassing intimacy from Elaine. Coughing into our glasses at her complete lack of tact. She does have some endearing qualities. The Allinson's son, Stephen, told me that last week on his sixth birthday he'd been to the top of Snowdon. 'It's the highest mountain in the whole world, you know.'

Home after 2.

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Tuesday June 24, 1980

_. Mum and Dad continuing to act oddly. Mum is quiet and Dad behaves as though all is happiness and fun. He's far too cheerful.

Spoke to Ally several times today.  She wanted to know the details of our visit tomorrow to Dave & Elaine's [Elaine's the endearing, yet crude girl, whose only topic of conversation is breast feeding]______.

I escaped from the YP at 4:30. Dave B came at 6:30 and with Sue and Pete we went to Pudsey and Auntie Mabel's pile to collect her ancient, yet splendid old bed. It was fastened to Dave's car. [He is the only person we know who possesses a roof rack]. We drank tea and devoured what Auntie called 'Buttered Humphreys', and left in a downpour of rain and cascade of kisses. Back to West End Terrace. Dave left to take Lynn to a bargain party and I stood until almost 11 putting brown paint onto a bedroom door.

To bed at 12 with 'George the First'.

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Monday June 23, 1980

_. Catherine's first birthday. My parents carry on like Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton. Violent emotion.

Got a bus home at 6pm. I soon after retired to my room with 'George the First' by Ragnhild Hatton. Susan has spoken to Auntie Mabel and they are going over to see her tomorrow to collect a bed [a wedding present]. I went out to help Dad with the lawns, but found him at the bottom of the garden puffing on a secret cigar like a devious schoolboy.

To be at 11 with 'George the First', a good book.

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Sunday June 22, 1980

_. 3rd Sunday after Trinity

Woke at 9. We giggled in bed. Ally went off to Bradford, and I rolled over and went to sleep until 11:30. Eggs, bacon and beans with Chippy and Debbie at 12. Afterwards we left Debbie studying German for her 'A' Level exam tomorrow, and joined Ken & Olive sitting outside the White Cross. I could only manage the one drink because my head throbbed hideously. We then went on to see Dave W and crept down his garden path and peered through his window and watched him, for some considerable time, struggling with a Sunday newspaper. He thinks he may be dying.

Home at 2 to see Mum and Dad, who returned from Northumberland last night. They are very quiet. I  went up to bed, but Mum followed me. I asked how the holiday had been. 'Your father hated the soddin' place', was her response. I took to my bed until 5.

Ally arrived and we went out to buy  papa some rum [for medicinal purposes] and then the two of us went to the Fox & Hounds. Saw George Waite. On to the Woolpack and then the Station on Henshaws Lane, before returning to Pine Tops at 10pm.

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Saturday June 21, 1980

_. Woke up at almost mid-day. Ally went off to a shift at the Belfry. I ironed some clothes, listening to Serge Rachmaninov's 2nd piano concerto. The ironing speeded up with the third movement. Do I perhaps have the blood of a long dead Chinese laundress flowing through my veins? Whilst ironing away to the melodious banging of Maura Lympany, midst the heat and steam, I found myself inspecting a pair of Pete's Levi jeans, and puzzle for some minutes at the shortness of his legs. Is my sister soon to become the spouse of a dwarf, or perhaps a gnome? I resolve, in my labours, to settle this disturbing matter later in the evening.

To the White Cross at 8 with Sue and Peter. Sadly, Dave L had the opportunity to join us but declined. He blames a new teaching job at South Elmsall. From the Cross we went to the Square & Compass, for their splendid 'mind blowing' lager. I went with Dave W. I did enjoy the atmosphere in this pub.

Back to Chippy's in Menston at 11:30. Joined by the lovely Ally, wearing something called a 'boob tube'. Joined by Lynn, Dave, Ken and Olive. A vast lake of rosé wine was consumed. I do recall hauling Pete to the floor [with help] to take his inside leg measurement. How we howled with laughter. A fracas broke out between Dave W and Ken. The former referred to the latter as 'a ginger haired bastard'.

Ally and I escaped to Chippy's bed, but not before we had a skirmish with a violent bedside lamp.

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