Monday June 29, 1981

 _. Ios is beautiful. An extraordinary island. We are fanned by a constant warm breeze. We can lay in the sun all day without any apparent desire to find shade in a bar. We walked to the beach this morning and sat from 1pm until 4pm writing postcards and drinking wine. To the 'village' tonight. A labyrinth of narrow white streets, swarming with cosmopolitan people. Lots of Yanks and people from the Irish Republic. Lots of fat, flabby, white flesh in the bar. I had moussaka and Ally had squid. Back to the hotel before 12:30.

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Sunday June 28, 1981

Hotel Armadoros.

 _. 2nd Sunday after Trinity

We spent our wedding night at 35,000 feet. We touched down at Athens at 6:50am. An insane taxi driver took us to Piraeus where we arrived just in time see the ferry on which we were booked steaming out into the blue ocean. This almost caused our first marital tiff. We aren't good when we both panic.  We found another ship which sailed at 9am, but going via Tinos [where Prince Philip's mother spent some time doing charitable work], Siros, Paros, Mykonos [the gay island, where we changed ferries], then on to Naxos, or was it Paros? They all blend into one, you know. We spent the journey on deck, close to exhaustion. We came into Ios at 10pm. A man looking like Peter Sellers came from the hotel in a dingy car and took us to the Hotel Armadoros, the only hotel. We ate pizza, drank Campari, and retired to bed.

Ally: on deck.

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Saturday June 27, 1981

 _. The most sacred and beauteous day of my life. I was awake at 5:30 having slept in a sleeping bag on the dining room floor. Billy and Dave G were awake, and we sat on the back terrace steps, taking the early morning air. I did laps of Greenfield Avenue, first on my own, and then with Dave. 

Breakfast was a stampede. My brother, and best man, arrived at 10:30 and by 11 were were dressed. I shook only very slightly. In fact John seemed more nervous than me. Mum began to fluster and this made me feel worse. John and I left for the church at 11:40, and at Esholt a multitude were amassed outside. Cameras clicked. Dave Porritt there with the video camera. I kissed Bessie, all in pink, in the church doorway and John whispered: "Who is that?" Of course, they have never met. The bride arrived at noon. I had to turn and look as she glided down the aisle, her full skirts shining like silver. Breathtaking. Her face lit with happiness. This set the tone of the service. We stood 'eyeing' each other and grinning. I think my responses were audible. I did, however, pronounce the 'H' in honour and said 'death do us part' insead of 'death us do part'. Ally said something wrong and then said 'sorry', only to be hurried along by Calvin Ward with a 'never mind, never mind'. We managed to kneel without falling on our faces. What I always thought might be a hideous ordeal was in fact exciting and unfortgettable. Why didn't we think of doing it earlier? We signed the register without a hitch. In the singing of the second hymn 'All People That On Earth Do Dwell' the organist dried bringing everything to a brief standstill. We left the church, arm in arm, to sunshine outside.

Outside the photographers took over. Jack Simon and Graham Lindley, from the YP. The session lasted for over half an hour. The drive in the marvellous old car to the Cow & Calf gave us the chance to talk. We formed a reception committee in the doorway greeting all the guests in a chain of kisses and grasped hands. Auntie Mabel was the only one who looked to be on the verge of tears.

I had no appetite. Poked at my roast beef. I worked out a speech plan with John. Graham said grace in Latin. John stood and proposed a toast to the Queen, not my suggestion, but Frank's. John then said a few words, proposed a toast, and then so did I. Frank then stood, and for a man used to public speaking, he looked very pale. He made a very moving father of the bride speech, saying how Ally had come back to live in the north and that Mum and Dad had looked after her so well. He almost broke down.

Speeches over we mingled with all the tables. Delia and Sarah were sat with the Rawnsleys. They were howling with laughter.

We left at 9:30 in a taxi from the Cow & Calf to Manchester Airport. We flew in the early hours to Athens.

-=-

Friday June 26, 1981

 _. Dull and damp. Breakfast at 8. Frank drove us into Bradford where Ally went to the tanning place, and we went to the John Street Market. Bessie bought us a small table, a wine table? Anyway, the car was laden with flowers, and after collecting Ally we went on to Esholt Church for a pantomime entitled 'Widow Twanky Goes Flower Arranging'. 

It took us ages to gain access to the church. [The caretaker was in Shipley having her hair set], and when Bessie began dismantling the altar, we made our escape. 

#Frank dropped us in Guiseley and we bought a few things in Boots, and then had fish and chips in newspaper as we walked up Hawksworth Lane, giving nervous glances at each other. Our last unmarried day.

Frank, Bessie and Andrew joined us after an hour or so, and we all had a gin and tonic with Mum and Dad before taking Ally away for the rest of the day. It was moving to see her go.

To Otley with Mum and Dad. She bought some shoes. Then to Yeadon, and home for 4. Looking at old diaries: did you know that Ally was mentioned in the very first entry in my journal on Jan 1, 1973?

This evening Uncle Bert, Aunt Jadwega, cousin Reginald arrived, as well as Dave G and Billy. Pure magic. The chemical reaction which took place between Billy and Jadwega was unforgettable. A brilliant double act. The song and dance routines followed, and the jokes. Hours of musical comedy.

-=-

Thursday June 25, 1981

 _. My last unmarried day at the YP. Made my way to Lidget Green at 6, pockets full of holiday money.

Lynn, Dave and Frances came over, and in D walked in carrying a refrigerator, a wedding present from them and from Sue, Pete, John and Maria. Within minutes it was affixed in the space that would, in a normal house, be a kitchen. We busily started freezing things. After salad sandwiches they left to make way for Frank, Bessie and Andrew. They came in at about 11:30 and the usual chaos reigned. I think they will eventually relax when the wedding day comes. We drank tea and opened presents from the Lancashire aunts.

Bed after 12. 

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Wednesday June 24, 1981

 _. Didn't see Ally. She is turning Ash Tree Cottage into Clarence House in readiness for the arrival of her parents.

Winston: blue eyes?

Dined with Mum and Dad. She made fine Yorkshire puddings and eulogised over my imminent passing. Dad was genuinely moved and blinked away tears. "We will miss you, Mike", said Mum very breezily, but I knew how she felt. Or do I? Twenty six years of love and devotion, care and attention, and in the blink of an eye your child has gone -- gone off with another to repeat the process all over again.

Anyway, enough of that. At the office my telephone trilled. It was a portrait painter, working on a portrait of Sir Winston Churchill, and was desperate for an accurate description of the colour of the great man's eyes. One would have thought that this might be an easy thing to pin down, but no. Nowhere does it say what hue twinkled in that Bulldog head. He did of course have sandy, dare I say ginger hair, before he lost it, and so would make a guess at a blue/grey shade.

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Tuesday June 23, 1981

 _. Catherine's second birthday. 

At Club St up at 5:30am and cleaned the windows. It took about half an hour. Breakfasted with Ally and then off to the YP.

Ally's cousin, Patricia Tolley, gave birth to a daughter, Louise Emma at something in the vicinity of 3am. The child is well, but the mother has had a very difficult pregnancy.

Home at 6.

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