Monday July 11, 1983

 At Waltergarth Guest House

Dad & Mum:

We were up early. A red faced Irishman was having his breakfast. The belligerent neighbour Norman had suggested he might be a bomb-maker. Felt tired but still I managed to mount a ladder and splash paint around. More wasps to kill. It disturbs Papa to see me derive so mich pleasure exterminating the hymenoptera. And yet he's the one who would bring back hanging for the likes of Ronald Gregory, CBE. Mum and Ally lay in the sun. We are all sore from the midge bites. Four paying guests arrived. A couple in their forties and two fresh faced youths from Royston near Barnsley and Dad asked them whether they worked down the pit. The small, pimply lad says no. He works in a bank. The big lad in shorts has just finished his A-levels. Coughs all round. Papa quickly changes the topic of conversation. 'Is Roy Hattersley the second coming?' Discuss. Saw 'Minder'. Mum isn't too jovial this weekend. Hilda has had a medical procedure which was a success. She is now quite well. Karen of course won't be having her baby until Easter.

-=-

Sunday July 10, 1983

with Mum & Ally at Horton.

 6th Sunday after Trinity

New Moon

Spent the day painting Waltergarth and murdering wasps. Hot and humid. Dad is still ranting and raving about his old boss Ronald Gregory and how he should be clapped in irons. The restoration of the death penalty too, that was debated from the top of our ladders, brushes in hand. Dad wearing sunglasses which were splattered with white spots. He grows more and more eccentric. He and Mum also discussed what name we might give our child. Mum suggests it could be Winston. (Little does she know that Clementine is our girls name, i.e. Winston's wife). We like George and discuss Frederick, but only between ourselves mind. The family are going to have to wait until January. Mum has given us two baby nighties and a tiny white cardigan. This evening we had a barbecue. But first Dad and I went to the off licence where I spent £9 on wine. It was the least I could do. We barbecued steaks and sausages and sat in deckchairs. Mum had violent hiccoughs which echoed to Pen-y-ghent and back again. Much giggling too. We were chased indoors by a plague of midges. Very bitten. Joined later by Winnie (the neighbour) and a man named Norman, who was once a fireman, who talked of various village fracas. He has had raging battles with all his neighbours. We went to bed at 12 and he was still ranting on and on.

-=-

Saturday July 9, 1983

At Horton-in-Ribblesdale.

 Hot. Up with the larks and off to Horton leaving Bradford at 9am to Settle via Keighley. We found ourselves in the company of a ghastly woman aged 65 and wearing denims, who pestered us as we hurtled through the scenic dales. Her husband, she announced loudly, once played the organ at a silver wedding party which was attended by the Duchess of Kent's father. Who bloody cares? At Settle for 10. The place was seething and a carnival atmosphere prevailed. Bunting was fluttering for Settle Show. We phoned Mum and Dad from the Royal Oak and they collected us. Mum thought Ally looked very pale. But it's the traveling. On to Horton where I was immediately pushed up a ladder with a paint brush. Dad was doing similar, and Mum and Ally sat with cups of tea in the striped deckchairs. Ally had phoned Lynn last night because today they have gone to Wales and Lynn hinted that we have a great surprise in store. However, we have yet to receive one ... or was the paint brush the surprise? Spent the evening with our feet up.

-=-

Friday July 8, 1983

The Rock & Heifer.

 Hot, humid and dismal. The forecast for the weekend is good. Let's hope it lasts for our Horton trip. Looking forward to seeing Mum and Dad. Our meetings in recent months have been rare and I do miss them. Ally sees her parents rarely and she thinks I should withstand my separation with similar resignation. She can be a hard old stick at times. I snapped a photo of Ally leaving home last time for the AHA as Derek Jenkins's lackey. She smiled gleefully among the roses. See in the Daily Telegraph that George Thomas is to be Viscount Tonypandy. Very quaint. Stephen Patrick Michael O'Connor brought me his bill for the work he did to the roof, &c. It added up to £862.50. We pay 90 per cent of this and Bradford Council the remainder. I went out to the shops and came back at about 3pm to find my precious wife bearing parcels and looking like a dish. Jenkins had given her a few hours off and she fell in the door, hot, but happy to be rid of Bradford Area Health Authority. Her retirement 'do' had been a quiet affair and they had gone to the Rock & Heifer
with a group from the office but nothing spectacular occurred. They gave her Minton china which we already have. We can now look forward to a relaxing week and the commencement of our new career on July 18. What bliss. And baby too. It's all too much. Ally went up at 9 and I watched a ghost story on TV which wasn't remotely ghostly. To bed with Jane Eyre.

-=-

Thursday July 7, 1983

 A batch of photographs arrived and we sat in bed looking at them. Britt's sons were next door disposing her humble possessions. The funeral is set for Monday, but we'll be at Horton. Neighbour Pat came and asked for a contribution for a Club Street floral tribute and I gave her £1. She said it is the usual street policy to send a joint offering. But is it right to send flowers to a woman who was allergic to the damn things for 95 years and would never have a bloom in the house? I find the subject of death, funerals and eulogies extremely hypocritical. Later I met Ally at Duckworth Lane in a steaming sweat. To the pub for our lunch. At 1:30 I went in to town and bought rail tickets to Settle (£12.80 for two returns), paid the telephone bill, bought a Minton dinner plate (£8.95) with the money Mama sent for our wedding anniversary. I walked back to Lidget Green and arrived dripping wet. I sat in the garden with a beer minus my shirt. Next door was seething with scrounging relations going over Britt's possessions. Her real name was of course Ethel. This evening we expected a visit from Jill and Tim but they didn't materialise and we sat like 2lb of tripe. Ally to bed at 9:20. I watched a German film directed by Fassbinder.

-=-

Wednesday July 6, 1983

 Ally is haunted by her visit to Mrs G and is kicking herself for not informing a nurse that all was not well with the old dear. She went out at 8 and Sammy was in the garden. He said the funeral will probably be on Friday. He told Ally not to upset herself because Mrs G had had a good, long life and was weary. I painted the gate and swept up after the joiner who finished the nursery door last night as Ally was weeping over 'Britt'. Yesterday was the 68th birthday of my cousins Edna and Nellie, the twins. This evening I had a phone call from Edna who sounded so young. I was expecting a 'maiden aunt' type of voice. She says it will be fine to call on them next Wednesday. Watched the excellent Rowan Atkinson in 'Blackadder' .

-=-

Tuesday July 5, 1983

 Up at 7. I see Mary in Mrs Greenwood's garden and went out to see what is going on. Looking in the window we see Mrs G on the floor, Mary went off to find Sammy. Inside I found her conscious but cold as marble. I dialed 999 and an ambulance came and took poor Mrs G to the BRI. Will we ever see her again? I went up to Duckworth Lane to meet Ally at lunch and to the Traveller's Rest. The kitchen, we were told, is undergoing renovations, and so sandwiches were the only thing on the menu. Ally cannot wait to escape from Derek. Ally's replacement, the man-hater Glenys, has bought her a plastic duck to float in the bath. We have christened him Darren. Annie (Whincup) called me over to look at a problem door and she broke down when I told her I had found a job. She has been worrying about us. Before coming home Ally visited Mrs Greenwood on the ward and found her asleep and didn't attempt to wake her. She said her name a couple of times with no response. This evening she was annoyed with herself for not asking a nurse to check on our recumbent neighbour. Sam and Bill Greenwood appeared at 7:30 to say that their mother had 'passed away' at 6:15. Ally wept, She is convinced that the old woman was dead when she saw her but that she wasn't discovered until tea time. Poor Ally might have been the last person to see her alive. Mary came over and sat with us for half an hour. Poor 'Britt'. Gone just 10 days before her 95th birthday. 

Hot night. Couldn't sleep.

-=-