Thursday September 3, 1981

 _. Mum Phoned: Susan, she says, has been to hospital and has undergone a 'scan' which revealed she isn't as advanced as she thought, and baby Nason is no longer due on December 28, probably four weeks later. We haven't seen Mum and Dad for a couple of weeks. They're coming to dinner tomorrow.

Meanwhile, this evening we paid a visit to Morrison's. No matter how sparing we try to be we always put £10 worth of shopping into our basket.

Had fish and chips at Mother Hubbard's, the standard of which has greatly improved since our last visit to that Harry Ramsdens-look-alike. On then to the home of Catherine Brook, shortly to be Alderson. We took our wedding present [Habitat tins], meeting David [Alderson] on the way who was having a spot of bother with his wheel trims. We spent a couple of hours at the Brook residence and detected no signs of panic or chaos. They looked at our wedding pics and Mrs B's verdict was that Ally looks like a fashion model. At 10 Catherine and David took us to view the Alderson marital pile, a semi. I prefer little Club Street any day. Their neighbours are either Greek Cypriots or Chinese.

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Wednesday September 2, 1981

 _. Spoke to Mum from the YP. She's bright and cheerful again. She's having the three piece suite re-upholstered. A man is coming to take it away on Sept 18, and they go to Italy on Sept 20. The car has had a re-spray, and the kitchen is to be re-designed by David. This apparently in Plan B. Plan A was the Stonehouse Inn.

Home at 6. Omelettes and salad. Afterwards I was back to my painting, though I'm far from happy with a distant cottage, the colour won't come. Everything else of course is pure Stubbs. I insist that we frame my effort soon because a painting in a frame immediately becomes a good picture. How sad. 

Dave G phoned to ask Ally to ask Frank if he can give a job in Guernsey to a girl from the Robin Hood pub. Frank of course, is now regional director for Barclays in the Channel Islands.

Tonight we read and watched TV. Trevor Eve in 'Shoestring' a very unconvincing private detective, and then, before bed, half an hour of a shoddy Liz Taylor film from 1974.

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Tuesday September 1, 1981

 _. It's hideous getting out of bed. To the YP. Guess who phoned me at lunchtime? Yes, Christine Braithwaite, no less. She wanted some info from an advert in last Wednesday's EP.

I came home to a lovely surprise. Ally has bought me a canvas. I sat until 10 creating a landscape from a photograph. Bed early following the excesses of the weekend.

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Monday August 31, 1981

 _. Bank Holiday in UK [except Scotland]

I was ordered to the greenhouse to water the tomato plants whilst Bessie cast her expert eye over a knitting problem encountered by Ally. They're knitting baby clothes. Bessie chose some wedding photographs for her collection.

Bessie gave lunch for us and Graham and Gill. Salmon, lamb, and chocolate gateau. We left for home at 5:30. Back to Club Street at 10:45. Watched an hour of The Omen, starring Gregory Peck. To bed. Exhausted.

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Sunday August 30, 1981

 _. 11th Sunday after Trinity

Up at about 10. We were denied the usual vast breakfast because were were going out to lunch. A great debate on the location took place first. Joined by Graham and Gill and Andrew [clad in his leatherwear, astride his gleaming machine] and off we went to the Plough at Sparsholt. Spent a couple of hours in the beer garden. A plastic ploughman's lunch, beer and gin. Graham is a delightful 'show off', and has been encouraged in this attitude for his whole life by his father. Bessie was drinking gin, and had the giggles.

Ally at Avington.

Back at the house Frank disappeared into his study with a bottle of paint stripper and we didn't see him again. Ally says her father finds relaxation a bore.

Ally and I went for a walk in the grounds of Avington House, in the village, and drifted inside to be given a guided tour around the impoverished mansion by the owner, a Colonel Hickson, who has been there since 1953. He's a bluff old boy trying desperately to keep the place afloat. It's a fine 17th century pile built by the Duke of Chandos, and, according to the colonel, Charles II and Nell Gwynn stayed there.

Afterwards we went looking for blackberries, and whilst midst the brambles Ally suggested going to dinner at Salisbury. Such a good idea. Off we went to the County Hotel [a Berni Inn] for a rump steak. A group of very noisy Americans were at the next table. Salisbury Cathedral, floodlit, is one of the finest ecclesiastical erections I have ever encountered.

Back to the Plough, Itchen Abbas, at 9:45 to join Graham, Gill, her brother, Peter Lynn, and his heavily pregnant wife, who are moving to Ayr on Monday, or Wednesday.

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Saturday August 29, 1981

 _. After breakfast we took off in the Triumph Dolomite, at speed, with Bessie to Southampton. We went to Habitat to buy Jill and Tim a decanter and glasses, and some tin boxes for Catherine and David. We went to Woolworths for some wire and then back to Martyr Worthy for 1:30. 

Chilland Barn.

Graham and Gill took us to the Cricketer's at Easton, full of flies, but had an excellent lunch. Ploughman's lunch with Stilton. 

After lunch Ally and I went to Alfresford and bought an old photo, an Edwardian lady, in a frame. She's called Phyllis.

Later, at 6:30 Frank and Bessie took us across the road to Chilland Barn, the beautiful home of Freddie and Avril Hargreaves. They are Welsh and he has made his millions as accountant to the Julian Hodge empire. They were very friendly. I came away with feelings of envy, which I do not like.

To Southampton with Graham and Gill at 10 to Lalupa's for a moderate pizza. Back to Graham and Gill's at Chandler's Ford for whisky.

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Friday August 28, 1981

John and Raine Spener at Althorp.

 _. Hot day. After a couple of hours at the YP with a very bronchil Mrs Slocombe and Kathleen I was met by Ally at 12:30 and off we went for our Bank Holiday break. It was a warm and clammy journey down the M1, in chugging Audrey. We arrived at Althorp House at 3. A splendid house, and not too large. We were given a guided tour around the Spencer pile by an old lady with a blue rinse and pearls. Sadly, the Spencers are away. Johnny sometimes greets the guests himself. It is obvious that Raine [Countess Spencer] has made her mark here. The guide hurried us past the Van Dycks and the Rubens and the Vermeers to bring our attention to a shoddy portrait of Raine's grandfather by Oswald Birley. The desks too, all Chippendale, groaned beneath Raine's family album snaps. Althorp is undergoing some renovation work and some of the rooms are beneath dust sheets, and scaffolding clings to some of the facades. But all the same it's an excellent joint. We also inspected the gardens. We had salad sandwiches in the car.

After a three hour drive we were in Martyr Worthy [our only other stop was at Brackley, where we had 'flat' lager in a pub there].

Bessie was in her usual state of high fluster and Frank was in his study, and this too is undergoing some renovation. Graham and Gill came in from a night at the Plough. He is more delightfully silly than ever.

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