Monday December 5, 1983

 Red Lion, Thornton Road, Four Lane Ends, Bradford 8

Ally and I were out at the bank this morning when Les Gledhill dropped in. He waited for us to return. I told him I am going to a health and safety at work seminar tomorrow and he said he'd be present too and suggested that perhaps Ally should be there as well. This is a great idea because I didn't fancy a long day on my own in far off Rochdale. Sheryl 'the mouth' worked this evening instead of Rita, who has a cold. Sheryl has been called for jury service at Leeds Crown Court for two weeks from Dec 12th, and is going to try and get an exemption certificate from her doctor. She suffers from "arthuritis" and says she'll be crippled sitting in a jury box until Christmas. But I think one has to be dying to escape jury service.

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Sunday December 4, 1983

 2nd Sunday in Advent

Red Lion, Thornton Road, Four Lane Ends, Bradford 8

Sue, Ally & Christopher.

Up at 7:30 with a dry throat. I went down to play with my barrels in the cellar. I derive more pleasure meddling with the wooden casks of ale than I did with the great tanks at the Why Not. The method of serving up beer in this manner cannot have changed for many years. When Sue phoned recently she said that JPH and Catherine have been in Guiseley and had visited West End Terrace. JPH, she says, is looking more like me. He has my 'long face' (her words). Do I have a long face? Surely, I am rugged yet gentle and with stream-lined contours giving a virile countenance. Lunchtime was soon upon us. Jean yelled upstairs that a lady had come to see us. I went down to find Marlene in the tap room. Frank, Mark, and Auntie Mabel followed. Poor Ally had just submerged her gigantic frame into the bath and so I went down to entertain my dear relations. They were impressed by the place. It is certainly drab from without. I sat with the Pudsey quartet until 2 and then we went up to see Ally, beautiful, bedecked in pearls. We had a brandy downstairs in the lounge after time. It was Auntie Mabel's first 'stoppyback' in all her 64 years. 

Mark looks very young. His voice has broken, and he's doing his mock O levels this week. He seemed deep in thought. They left at 3 and we went to Pamela's at Shipley where the remnants of Rebecca's christening party were to be found. Jim and Co were playing cards in the smoke-filled dining room. Sue was eager to leave and we took them to Guiseley. Christopher is very blond and leggy.  They laughed. The christening, in the Sunday morning service (Metholdist) went on for TWO hours and at the end a drunk wandered in and demanded that they all should sing his favourite hymn ... which they did. Hilarious. Sadly, Sue cannot recall what hymn it was. A boring lament. We had chilli con carne and I slipped into a coma in an armchair. Back to the Red Lion for 7. Sheryl didn't get away until 11:30, and was attempting to have her own private 'stoppyback'. We watched TV in a horizontal position. A Bette Davis film.

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Saturday December 3, 1983

 Red Lion, Thornton Road, Four Lane Ends, Bradford 8

Bright and sunny but we didn't get chance to go out and wallow in the autumn sunshine. One cannot be a fresh air fiend in this game. However, I am looking forward to scaling Pen-y-ghent with Papa. I have been dreaming about rats or mice. What can this mean in my subconscious? A clever pyschologist has published a book saying that to dream of a roller skating bishop signifies ones inner desire to campaign for the ordaination of women priests. I went to buy coal from the guy next door. The young salesman looks like Boy George. Ally wearing her now tight pink nightie made porridge. _______. Saturday actually feels like a Saturday at the Red Lion. Ally points out that the customers actually treat it like a pub and not like a second home as they did in Hemlington. The pub (here) is set to be demolished in 1986 when the traffic lights outside are to make way for a massive roundabout. So sad. Sam Smiths have chosen a new site close by but new pubs are hateful and lacking in character. A quiet night. Jean and Rita worked from 8 and so I had an hour upstairs. Ally sneaked home this evening to collect some cash from the 'Clemmie Fund' which we are going to bag and bank. In April we had £60.16. Susan phoned and asked if we can pick them up from Pamela's tomorrow. Rebecca is being christened and we can see them all after the ceremonial. I argued with a youth who was trying to buy some under age girls lager. The were given Coca Cola but I was far from happy. Upstairs at 12 after messing with the till that was mangling the till roll. 

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Friday December 2, 1983

 Red Lion, Thornton Road, Four Lane Ends, Bradford 8

I got up at 6:45 to prepare the cellar for the draymen who can arrive at any time between 7am and noon. Felt tetchy because the newsagent wouldn't give me a Daily Telegraph and instead I came away with a boring Daily Mail. Bought milk at the Co-op next door to make Ally's breakfast but the draymen arrived and we didn't eat until 10:30. A pleasant lunchtime. The afternoons here are such a relief after the hideous Why Not. How can anyone successfully manage that place? I think Tim told us that the London couple had backed out. Good old Bradford people take a lot of beating. Good, honest, hard working Yorkshire folk. Ally and I went to the bank (it's near the university and a stones throw from the place where Sutcliffe murdered Barbara Leach). The cashier is called P.F.N. Bruntlett. (Just thought I'd record his name for posterity). At 3:30 we made a quick visit to our home. Letters await us from the bank, something to do with our tax relief on our home loan repayments. We currently pay £115 a month and this could drop to £85 in April. Phoned Susie and invited ourselves over there on Friday. This evening I worked 5:30 - 11:30. The customers take a long time quitting the place. Sheryl and Rita say it's been a quiet night when in fact the takings are better than any other Friday in months. Chris Wills is very much an absentee landlord. Elaine spends all her time playing the organ. 

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Thursday December 1, 1983

 Red Lion, Thornton Road, Four Lane Ends, Bradford 8

I had a headache but by no means a bad one. I lingered in bed until 10 ignoring my publican responsibilities. Ally was up early to visit Dr Duck, who says our baby is 'cheeky' for lying with his hand sticking out and making Ally's bump look very irregular. After my lengthy stay abed I felt recuperated and suffered no further ill effects from last night. Ally has been very good about it. I cannot have been too bad as I can remember everything perfectly. I worked this evening with Jean, who is efficient. Nothing worth recording took place. Later we had cheese on toast in bed watching baby turning and kicking. Is the baby a boy? Is violent activity associated with males? I do not think people believe us when we say we are not bothered whether we have a boy or a girl. We just wish for a healthy child.

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Wednesday November 30, 1983

 St Andrew's Day

The Red Lion, Thornton Road, Four Lane Ends, Bradford 8

I woke up feeling grotty and 'hungover' though not a drop of alcohol passed my lips last night. I felt weary this morning and in need of fresh air. Jean and Enid worked from 11 and Ally and I were free to take a day off. Before leaving I sliced off the end of my thumb with a kitchen knife while slicing a lemon. Heavily bandaged I made good my escape from the Red Lion to ourcottage just a few mile away. The white 'moses' basket stands in splendid isolation awaiting the arrival of its tiny occupant. We went into town where Ally tried on a series of hideous tent-like frocks, like an 18 stone black and gold fairy, to a floral 'Tessie O'Shea'. Poor pet was unsure about the black and grey creation for tonight but decides it is the better option. To calm ourselves we went to lunch at Giuseppi's Backyard. £8 on pizza, lasagne, and sticky chocolate fudge cake. Felt much better afterwards. We phoned our mums. Both well, happy and contented. We went at 6:30 to the Buckle's Inn at Askham Richard for the brewery Yuletide 'knees up'. Had champers and brandy (pre-prandial), with Roy, Marie, Tim, various trainees, Elaine & Chris Wills. She looked pale and bloated although her baby isn't due until April 1. At dinner we were on Colin Black's table and we sat next to a Barnsley couple now at Redcar. Rob and Cath (ex Green Dragon, Stockton), sat on the other side, and are now at the Butcher's Arms, Pudsey. Snobby. Roast beef and Yorkshire pudding. Lashings of wine. I was pissed. Didn't see Roy and Marie until the end. He wasn't his usual self. He was 'well oiled' though I suspect Marie had given him a serious talking to. He had given up heavy spirits for dry martinis. I drank brandy and Babycham and clung to a box of cherry liqueur chocolates. David Tyne chatted with Ally and attempted to buy her a drink, but was foiled when I got to the bar ahead of him, unfortunately. We left at a disgusting late hour passing Roy dancing with Ronnie Simpson in the lounge. A forgotten drive home.

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Tuesday November 29, 1983

 Red Lion, Thornton Road, Four Lane Ends, Bradford 8

Red Lion, Four Lane Ends.

The boring NGA strike has brought about a rush on Daily Telegraph sales, and so they had all sold out when I finally got to the newsagent. Instead I bought a thin and dismal YP. Prince Edward has appeared in a play at Cambridge and was a success. He will be Duke of Cambridge one day - I hope. Busy lunch. Ally went to 'mothercraft' classes at Odsal where they have all the pregnant ladies laying on the floor and sleeping for ten minutes. Poor Ally wanted to wee and was laid with crossed legs and an agonised expression. She watched a film on breast feeding and had a lesson in breathing during labour. One should always breathe from the diaphragm, and not the nose of course. __________. Ally tired. She slept on the settee. I did no work after 8. It is tradition for the landlord of this establishment to go out at 8pm and escort an elderly and apparently blind widow across the road for her nightly gil of 'Four X' mild. Poor old Mary, for that is her name, was hit by a car in Morecambe while eyeing a joint of beef in a butchers' shop window. I went upstairs to my sleeping beauty and watched a docuemtnary on Prince Johannes von Thurn und Taxis, a West German aristocrat in Robert Lacey's TV series.

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