Thursday March 25, 1982

 New Moon

I went back to the YP while Ally remained at home. God bless her. Her insides haven't been quite right since we married. Gynaecological traumas.

YP dull. Geoff Hemingway is off. My royal family tree looks doomed. 

Walked into town at lunchtime and bought [Auntie] Hilda a birthday card. I passed Jacq - we just waved.

Home at 6. Out to Morrison's. We spent almost £10 on absolutely nothing. Most of the provisions are for tomorrow's civic dinner for Lord and Lady Gadsby. Home at 7:20. We watched 'Top of the Pops' and the Kenny Everett Show. But then came a knock knock at the door and in came Dave L with two 'skinhead' youths from South Elmsall. A great giggle. Very naughty of Dave to fraternise with his pupils. One had a history exam paper. 'Which of the following Russians was the communist prime minister? a) Catherine the Great, b) Kerensky, c) Hereward the Wake, d) Arthur Scargill, d) Oscar Peterson, e) Sir Oswald Mosley, f) Trotsky. We listened to the gramophone and our latest 'top twenty' tape singing along to Soft Cell and Bow Wow Wow. We put back a fair amount of ale and a plate full of sandwiches, and then Ally, as a climax to to the evening, played 'All Things Bright and Beautiful' on the piano. Dave took the youths to the railway station at 11. They were heading to Plymouth trainspotting. They looked monstrous, but were nice lads. They studied my paintings very objectively.

Saw the by-election results. Roy Jenkins has been elected as the SDP MP for Glasgow Hillhead. The Tories came second and Labour in third place. Sir Roy, the old fool, is now PM in waiting, or leader of the next opposition at least.

-=-

Wednesday March 24, 1982

 Sunshine. Another day with Ally at Club St. I now see that the housewives lot isn't the day of idleness I always imagined it to be. Washing, cleaning, ironing and cooking, dear God. By lunchtime I was longing to be back in the solitude of the YP library amongst my newspapers and spider plants.

I ventured out only briefly to buy a loaf of bread, the staff of life. A young man, in the shop, purchasing his luncheon, had great pink teeth marks all over his neck, and I guessed that he lives with the local Countess Dracula up at Clayton Heights. Love bites have never held any appeal for me. In truth, I do not recall ever having had one. The idea of a savage female setting about me with snarling affection isn't my idea of a way to pass a romantic evening.

I concocted a lasagne. Flying pasta, onions, &c. Dined at 6 and collapsed afterwards. Watched 'Minder' at 9pm with the genius George Cole and Dennis Waterman.

-=-

Tuesday March 23, 1982

 Was in the bath at 6:45am. Ally pale and ghastly and violently sick. I decided to take the day off and look after her which brightened her mood greatly. Besides, the YP owes me a day from the day in December when I was prevented from working because of the heavy snow. Ally sat, feet up on a pile of cushions, bathed in sunshine. I daubed a few strokes onto the still life I started in November. I suppose Mrs Rembrandt watched her hubby going about things in the same way.

Walked out and bought a Daily Telegraph. Bought Piggy a Cadbury's Creme Egg, a loaf, &c. At lunch we had a pile of salad sandwiches and watched 'Pebble Mill at 1'.

Two great actors have died: Alan Badel and Harry H. Corbett.

Later I did the ironing and made fish for dinner at 6. Watched Humphrey Bogart and Katherine Hepburn in 'The African Queen', and by 9:30 we were back in bed. I am taking tomorrow off too. I phoned Sarah this morning citing a sore throat which was received with the usual disbelief.

-=-

Monday March 22, 1982

 Bright and sunny. Another week. Arrived at the office and had a phone call from Ally. She had been vomiting for the best part of an hour and had decided not to go into work. If she isn't pregnant I am William Whitelaw.

Sat all day, buried behind one of the broadsheet Sunday newspapers, thinking about Ally and hoping that this vomit heralds the bundle of joy we desire above all else.

I made my exit from the YP at about 5 and got the X11 bus which took me to Auntie Mabel's in the space of about ten minutes. She looks very well and her cooking smells delicious. Ally soon followed and came in with a beautiful complexion. Cousin Jackie followed and had a massive dinner followed by apple crumble. During the washing up afterwards Mabel pulled Ally to one side and asked her to leave Jackie and I alone together in the sitting room 'because Jackie is so fond of him and had great hopes of a closer relationship until her father told her that first cousins couldn't marry'. Ally found this highly amusing when relating the tale to me on the way home. Auntie Mabel, I fear, reads too many Mills & Boon novels. Jackie left after 'Coronation Street' and we sat with Auntie until after 10. She always makes us so welcome and loves our company. In better weather she has promised to come for lunch at Lidget Green.

-=-

Sunday March 21, 1982

 4th Sunday in Lent - Mothering Sunday

We both regained consciousness at 7am and ran downstairs to drink water. Paracetamols too. Back to bed groaning like a polar bear with a duodenal ulcer. Came back to life at about 10:30 free from pain, and we pulled back the curtains and lay in the sun. Chatted about Sarah and Trevor.

We ate our usual Sunday morning repast and prepared for our visit to Guiseley. We arrived at Pine Tops at about 3pm and had sherry and ale with Mum and Dad. Nobody else appeared until about 5 when the girls appeared with husbands and babies. Frances and Christopher took all the attention of course. We gave Mum flowers, perfume, and a box of 'Black Magic' chocolates.

We dined on some sort of curry washed down with wine. We have all changed, you know. The family that lived here together now seem like quite a different bunch to me. To see Lynn, Sue and me now and our current relationship to Mum and Dad is most odd. Ally doesn't see why people change, but marriage changes everyone. 

Poor Dad sprained an ankle last night [no, it was Friday] whilst hotly giving chase to youths at the back of Aireborough Grammar School. He is all bandaged now. After dinner we sat joking and laughing playing 'pass the baby'. Ally looked splendid in her pink dress, or it is red? with a red pullover of mine hanging on top. Very modern. Home after 10. Slightly pissed. 

-=-

Saturday March 20, 1982

 Out of bed at 10:30 suitably refreshed from my night of tranquil repose.

Had poached eggs and gallons of tea. We do enjoy our breakfasts on a weekend, and they sometimes stretch to an hour or more.

We made a visit to the vast metropolis of Bradford and were disillusioned by the ladies fashions in the shops. Store after store with nothing more than the frilly 'Princess of Wales' look which is no problem if you're 6ft tall and heavily pregnant, but nothing is suitable for Ally. We went to the market for our fruit and veg. Morrison's too. We bottled beer afterwards. _______.

Phoned Peter to offer birthday congratulations. He casually mentioned that Dad is in hospital with a foot problem. I phoned Mum who says David has taken him to Otley hospital with a suspected broken ankle after taking a fall in the dark last night behind Aireborough Grammar School. We have no further news.

On to Sarah and Trevor's at Horsforth. A very pleasant evening. Sarah gushes and flows like Ellen Terry's Lady Macbeth. We had Martinis and Trevor gave us a guided tour of the house. Joined by other guests Sue and Graham. They were very down to earth and amusing. He is very much like the EPs David Riley. They are in antiques. Chicken for dinner. Gossiped. Home at 3am. Did we overstay our welcome?

-=-

Friday March 19, 1982

 Felt buggered all day. Went out at lunchtime and bought Mum a Mother's Day card. Wet. Sarah took a half day and left at 12 swearing on the Official Secrets Act on the subject of our visit to Providence House for dinner. She refuses to have 'the cats' Marilyn and Beverley in her house. They have bought Sarah and Trevor a biscuit tin for a wedding present.

Home at 6 and collapsed onto the settee. Ally was bright and chirpy and all I could do was grunt. We had lasagne and watched Basil Rathbone as Sherlock Holmes on BBC2. I slept afterwards while Ally knitted and read [she's on with Jane Austen's Mansfield Park at the moment]. I only returned to consciousness when something on the telly hit a certain pitch. Heard on the news that the actor Alan Badel has died. I remember him as the Count of Monte Cristo from about 10 years ago.

Went up to bed at 10. I could easily have gone at 6. Ally is such a delight to be with. It's not like being with any other person. We don't have to pretend or force anything. Affinity is what I'm trying to describe. Love too.

-=-