Friday October 3, 1980

_. A night on the tiles in the usual Friday tradition. Phoned Dave L at 6:30 but he had already planned to go to Sandra's at Otley. No word from Pete Mather, as I expected, because tomorrow is Martyn C's wedding, and I suspect a select pre-nuptial gathering is taking place somewhere. Pete phoned when I was out on Tuesday night inviting me to Martyn's stag party on Wednesday, but it would have meant borrowing money, and so I declined the invitation.

At 8 I walked down to Sue & Pete's and the three of us crossed the road to the White Cross. On to the Shoulder where we met Chris and Audrey Rycroft. I couldn't work up any excitement. Married couples talk only of rate bills, and the price of frozen pizzas. I was saved by the arrival of Gus & Johnny. [Johnny is home from London where his claim to fame was making love to a 'Bunny Girl']. A riotous evening developed. On to the New Inn where we met Dave W and Ken. Home at 11:30, drunk. I blame the whisky. Sat watching the ghastly Desmond Morris on TV.

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Thursday October 2, 1980

_. At the YP today it soon became very obvious that my catastrophic and sudden bout of illness is not as convincing as I thought it might be.

Lynn & Dave.

Out at 8 with Ally, Lynn and Dave to Dave & Elaine Allinson's at Rawdon. We were dreading it really because they are always banging on about abortion, homosexuality, dogs, piles, mortgages, oral sex, rape, and more mortgages, not forgetting the all important topic of breast feeding.

Lynn and Dave were subdued because Mandy Baker has suffered a miscarriage. She was expecting a baby two weeks before Lynn is due. Naturally, old fears are exhumed.

Back to Pine Tops at 12:30 [just Ally and I]. Hilda and Tony are with Mum, Dad, Jim, Margaret and Julie. It was disclosed that Pamela N is now 'living in sin' with her elderly boyfriend __Gwilliams. I sat gasping for breath amidst the smoke fumes from Hilda and Tony. Eventually driven upstairs. Joined by Ally.

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Wednesday October 1, 1980

Ally & Charles le Citroen.

_. At 8am I put a call in to Shazzo, and Ally the same to Catherine Brook to confirm our attacks of diarrhoea and Legionaire's Disease. Then we made egg sandwiches and went to Harewood House to gasp in wonderment at the emu and ormolu. I irked Ally somewhat going on and on about my dinner with 'Bambi' Countess of Harewood in '77. Maria Callas had just died and George, Lord Harewood, for that reason, was indisposed. He was in his study compiling an obituary for the great singer. From Sunny Harewood we drove to Knaresborough, where I slept, and then on to Les Haute Pins for chicken din dins.

Lady Diana Spencer is not related to the late Michael Miles, and neither is Olav V, King of Norway. [Olav is not related to Michael Miles, but most definitely related to Lady Diana].

Felt sleepy disgustingly early. Ally left at 10-ish, and I went to bed at 10:30 to avoid the ice skating on TV.

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Tuesday September 30, 1980

_. Felt sufficiently secure to travel to Leeds with Jim & Jennie. She has now taken to locking my car door, as if she worries that I might wish to take my own life, throwing myself from the car as we speed through Headingley.

Dismal day. Shazzo plagues me, but I find her great fun all the same. All the others are so dull these days.

Sarah: afraid of Wedgwood Benn.

Sarah says she is afraid of Wedgwood Benn. I tried to reassure her telling her that he could never come to power having such ridiculous policies, but she insists it's only a matter of time. He plans to abolish the House of Lords, withdraw from the EEC, and nationalize everything in sight. Someone really should put a stop to him.

JPH's fourth birthday. Mum phoned John but JPH was out with Alec Clanachan [their only neighbour]. He promised to have the child phone her back. He did so, at 7:30, and I had a few words. He then sang 'Happy Birthday to You' for his Grandma, and she responded by calling him 'my little kipper face.'

I phoned Ally at 4:30. She was bored and suggested we venture out for alcoholic refreshment. I agreed wholeheartedly. To the Drop, the Crown at Yeadon, and then New Inn, followed by 'Time and Place' in Bradford. The latter quite excellent. Most things are quite excellent. Home in the early hours of Wednesday having taken the decision that neither of us have any intention of making an appearance at our places of work.

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Monday September 29, 1980

_. Sunny, but autumnal. With Ally to Rawdon, no Horsforth, where I got the bus to Leeds. She disappeared to Bradford in Charles Citroen.

At the YP for 8:10. Busy day. Read the Sunday papers, full of the Labour split. Callaghan may resign. I break into a cold sweat at the thought of Wedgwood Benn, I really do. John and Maria are now fanatical supporters of the Left, and were expounding their revolutionary beliefs on Saturday, in a Scottish tavern. I blame the Macdonald brain-washing, because John was never politically motivated.

Wyatt: Diana's ancestor.

Study Lady Diana Spencer's line in greater detail. She is descended from Sir Thomas Wyatt, who led the rebellion against Henry VIII in 1533, and from the 2nd Duke of Norfolk, grandfather of the unfortunate Queens Anne Boleyn and Catherine Howard. Also up the tree are the Egerton Dukes of Bridgwater, the Villiers Earls of Jersey, the Forbes Earls of Granard, &c. One could go on indefinitely.

Phoned Ally tonight because I was too busy to do so in the day. Tony [from the Plough, Itchen Abbas] and Neil, came up to see her at 8 on Saturday morning, to find her absent. All that way for nothing.

Sue and Pete made a hurried visit solely to deliver laundry. I am now resigned to the fact that I left, abandoned, with Mama and Papa. They have accepted my 'dirty weekend' without comment, and the 'when are you going to get married?' jokes have ceased.

To bed at 12 after Barry Norman's 'Film 80'.

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Sunday September 28, 1980

_. 17th Sunday after Trinity

A cold fried breakfast again. The proprietress of the Marine guest house, whose private room abutts our room, held an orgy in her suite last night for what sounded like the Provisional IRA [Stranraer] branch. We had difficulty sleeping with the noise, and loud Irish expletives.

At Corner House Cottage.

To Corner House Cottage. Ally and I went on a walk gathering blackberries, 3lb in all. At 12:30 Mum, Dad, Lynn, Dave, Sue, Pete, Ally, JPH and I went to the Stoneykirk Hotel, a charming hotel set in its own grounds. Lunch. Scampi [again], and drank in the garden. JPH was so well behaved and charming. He found a playmate whom he referred to as 'the wee girlie'.

The question was asked. Why have we be staying at the sordid Marine Guest House when we could have stayed at the Stoneykirk?

The cottage renovations.

Later Ally and I picked more blackberries and then we left at 4. It's always a sad sight seeing John standing in the bracken waving ferociously until we disappear from view.

A tortuous journey home. Ally felt ill. She can only travel comfortably when she is the one doing the driving. We stopped at Whoop Hall, for drinks. Home at 10:30.

Saw Alan Ayckbourn's 'Bedroom Farce'. The man is a genius.

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Saturday September 27, 1980

_. Maria's arrangements with the slovenly proprietress of the Marine guest house, Stranraer, saw Ally and I sharing a room last night. We have not previously paraded this aspect of our relationship before Mum and Dad before, and I felt uneasy. They ignored our cohabiting and didn't even venture near to room 9, the scene of the crime. The 'guest house' leaves a lot to be desired. The fellow inmates at breakfast, in the main suspicious Irish characters chewing on their fatty bacon and making noises over their greasy pots of tea. It was not the happiest sight to start the day.

Out to the shops at 9:30. Bought John a Barry Manilow album. He likes that sort of thing. Meanwhile at the cottage he and a slave named Bertie were busily building a brick wall around the property. No doubt to ward off gangs of local brigands. Dad was roped in and Mum was busy cuddling babies and making the caravan quiver. We escaped to Port Patrick and the Crown Inn. Had scampi again. Joked about Ally's drink problem. She drinks gin like water, and with little effect. More food at the caravan and then we ventured into Stranaer. On to the Coachman's, for loud, pulsating music. Back to Lochans at 12. All jolly.

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