Monday November 10, 1980

_. To the dentist at 5pm for a couple of x-rays. A complete waste of time really. I was amused by a poster in the waiting room showing a fox idly reading 'Horse and Hound', surrounded by hounds similarly engaged.

Ally collected me at 5:30 in Rawdon and we went on to Pine Tops for dinner. Ally collected a dress from Sue's and we headed off to Tong arriving at the King's at 9:15. Jill and Tim were there with Tim's enormous brother. Tim and Jill are good company. At 10:30 we went on to see Auntie Hilda and Uncle Tony, both subdued. On to Club St at 12. Tore wallpaper from the walls in the spare bedroom.

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Sunday November 9, 1980

_. 23rd Sunday after Trinity. Remembrance Sunday

A day buried beneath mounds of festering wallpaper and paste at Rue Club. Ally was at the Belfry and left me alone until 3. Finished the bedroom at 7. Heinz tomato soup and bread.

Back to Pine Tops. Ally only managed a cup of tea before returning to the Belfry. Mum and Dad had a very exciting day. Earl Stephens, an old friend from the deep past, who has been in New Zealand since 1958, suddenly appeared on our doorstep this morning. Unfortunately, Dad was out beating up innocent members of the public and didn't see him, but Earl returned at 7:30. Spent the night chatting about old times. By 11 I was like a zombie and escaped to bed leaving Mr Stephens expounding his ideas for a revolutionary shower partition. Slept immediately, and deeply.

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Saturday November 8, 1980

_. Up at 11 for bacon and eggs. To Ally's at 12 and found her cleaning. Decorate the bedroom until 5. Daubing paste &c.

Went into Bradford at 5 and bought Tim a T-shirt and a birthday card. Ate fish and chips in newspaper like ravenous fiends.

Bathed in the luxury of the green bathroom, listening to Ally throwing a tantrum about her clothes - or lack of them. On to Pudsey at 8:30 and then  we all - the whole mob - went to the King's Arms in Tong for refreshment. I wore a tie pin which created a minor sensation for some reason. Ally really gets on well with Diane. Sue and Pete are uncertain about a holiday next year, but we are considering our plans in earnest. Lynn was lovely all in black. Back to Wilsby [6, St James's Crescent] at 11. I was pissed and fell on a poor woman splattering her with pizza and potato salad. Tony was becoming quite malevolent to Peter, who clowned around in a punch bowl. Auntie Mabel was the only surprise guest.

Back to Rue Club at 3am.

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Friday November 7, 1980

_. Sarah's birthday. Out to Da Mario's at 12 for a joyful celebration. Just Sarah, Shazzo, Carol J, and Marilyn. Ate lasagne but felt hungry afterwards. Walked back to the YP minus Sarah, who took a half day. Called at a travel agents and collected some books for the next summer season. Shazzo says Agios Nikolaos on Crete is 'lively' and 'my scene'. Sarah's Lindos on Rhodes sounds starchy and old. You know I like noise, debauchery, dissipation and booze.

Home at 6. Read 'Caligula' by William Howard. Truly a foul, evil volume of perversion if ever I saw one.

In the space of two days I've been thoroughly brainwashed into thinking  Ronald Reagan isn't such a bad guy. His elder brother, Neil, is quoted as saying he cannot understand why 'Junior wants to run America'. To bed at nearly 12.

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Thursday November 6, 1980

Caligula.

_. Horribly wet. On to Leeds by bus with Mac [Alan Macgregor], he's a Bradfordian, you know. He gave me a potted history of the Bradford public transport organisation.

Out at 12 to Len's Bar with Ally and a 'rosy' Lynn. Ate pate and toast and put back a few lagers. This was the enjoyable part because at 2 I was dragged out by the frenzied women to the bustling shops. Lynn bought maternity dresses and hideous, sail-like undergarments. I browsed amongst the books. I bought 'Caligula' by William Howard, which proves to be a hair-raising account of this lurid era in Roman history. Another bit of erotica for my bottom shelf. We bought JPH and Catherine's presents from Santa Claus. Home at 6:30 cold, tired and penniless.

Too exhausted to go out. Jim and Margaret came at 9 and we sat with them. The call of bed was too strong.

The little girl next door, Claire, plays he recorder day and night, and it's always the same tune ~ 'Go and Tell Aunt Nancy'. I've heard it 48,000,000 times.

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Wednesday November 5, 1980

_. I retired to bed at 3am and climbed out again at 6:45 to watch the election programme on the BBC. Reagan has won everywhere, and Carter is left with only Georgia, his home state. Mrs Thatcher will be rubbing her hands with glee but I cannot help feeling wary about this clapped out old actor. Mind you, I said some pretty loathsome things about Jimmy Carter in '76, but changed my opinion of him.

Princess Anne: another baby.

Reagan is the oldest person to have been elected president of the US. A couple were elected aged 65 back in the last century, but Ronald will be 70 on February 6. I have always thought that Kennedy was the youngest president, 43 at his inauguration, but Teddy Roosevelt was only 42 at his in 1901.

It was announced this afternoon that Princess Anne is expecting another child in May. Carol laughed when I suggested Lady Diana Spencer might make it three.

Ally came over at 8 and we went to Leeds. Elaine, she says, has confided in Lynn that poor Billy is definitely 'queer'. How very perceptive of her.

To the Bank wine bar opposite the Town Hall. Bohemian types sinking bottles of wine. Joined by Graham and Gill at 10:15. They are getting married on March 28, and spending their honeymoon in Morocco. How can they do such a thing after the shoddy treatment King Hassan gave to the Queen last week? On to Rue Club and a Chinese take-away. To bed very late.

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Tuesday November 4, 1980

_. Nothing at the YP. Graham Dixon phoned me at about 11pm enquiring after the whereabouts of Ally. I told him she would be in bed ignoring the phone. He and Gill are coming to Leeds on business [delivering programmes to the Grand Theatre] tomorrow and want to meet for lunch or a drink. Hell, I have no money.

Ronald Reagan: landslide.

A day of elections. I am writing now at 1:35am on November 5, and I have to report that Ronald Reagan has won a landslide victory in the US presidential election. Or so it seems anyway. I am watching the BBC live from the USA, and they are predicting this victory and are never wrong. Oh, God. Get out the gas masks, Ethel. The American broadcasting networks are reeling at the news. No sitting president has been ejected after only one term of office since Hoover in 1933. If only Carter had done something about Iran in '78 when the Shah began to have trouble. Had he shown some foresight he wouldn't be now sitting in the White House with tear stained cheeks. All this leaves me with sweat on my brow and stains of a muddy hue in my undergarments. Russia bashin' is bloody dangerous. Blimey, it could all be over by Christmas, and by 'all over' I refer to the world!

The other election taking place today was at Westminster where a man called Healey has won the first ballot in the election for a new leader of the Labour party. This means nothing. I have watched a man called Foot waving his walking stick at TV cameras and beaming merrily. Can nobody have told him?

I must remember to tell Ally about Graham, when I make my dawn alarm call. She's bound to panic because she is penniless and almost destitute and you know how Graham loves his greasy take-aways and gallons of ale.

It's now 1:50am and I am looking at David Dimbleby and wondering whether or not to switch off. Oh dear.

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