Sunday August 26, 1984

 New Moon

10th Sunday after Trinity

Moorhouse Inn, Leeds

Mum phoned at 3:30am to say that Lynn had gone into hospital, and when Ally phoned at 7:30 she was told that David had gone home from hospital to see the girls. Later, at visiting time, Lynn was packed off home because her contractions had ceased and so she went over to Pool (in Wharfedale) in her nightgown for tea with Audrey and Henry. Within an hour she was back on the ward heaving away.

A jolly morning in bed. I lay with Samuel singing 'happy birthday' to the Duke of Gloucester. He giggled at my idiocy. 

We spent an evening of tension propping up the bar talking to Bernadette (McCarron), a mother of five daughters. Jill and Tim came in with a couple of friends and we talked about London. The place was cleared by 10:45 and we had a drink with the Elmers. Mum phoned at 11:30pm to say that Lynn had given birth to a son at 10:35pm weighing 6lb 2oz, and named Thomas David. We squealed with glee. A son! They must be chuffed to arseholes. I had a Mandarine Napoleon brandy to celebrate. Jill phoned Karen and Di. And so, to bed.

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Saturday August 25, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds

We escaped to Guiseley and visited the Lawsons of Tennyson Street. As usual we arrived at meal time, and Joan, opening the door, I think took me for a Jehovah's Witness or 'Moonie'. Eventually the penny dropped and we were ushered into the sitting room for tea and cake. Dave was out but came in half an hour later with a ponytail and a tiny shirt with 'The Smiths' splattered over the front. He autographed our passport photos. He is enabled to do this because he is a teacher. Other suitables for this tedious duty include members of the Royal Family, judges of the High Court, and peers of the realm above the rank of a baron. David hadn't seen Samuel before. We did a lot of tittering and then went on to Sue's. John gave Samuel £5. Barbecue at Susan's, with Mum and Dad too. Afterwards we went to Lynn's for tea and we sat on the lawn beneath the umbrella I stole in Bournemouth. Lynn showed no signs of delivering. Home for 7.

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Friday August 24, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds

Busy day because we have only one staff member working at luncheon. It was Maureen today. Other than this - oblivion. The Egans were red faced after last night. Quite right.

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Thursday August 23, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn

Ally phoned Lynn. The girl is sick of waiting and is visiting the doctor tomorrow. David is in a state of agitation and wants a son. Audrey and Terry were in pissed up after an afternoon at the Pirie's. Audrey was wearing a big hat and staggering around 'like Gertrude Tanner' - but I think meant Schilling. 

Saw Maureen's granddaughter, Teresa, outside. Born in December she looks massive next to Samuel and seems to have a full set of teeth. 

Stan Ogden is deceased ending a TV partnership and a romance equal only to Burton and Taylor, Victoria and Albert, and Pearl Carr and Teddy Johnson.

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Wednesday August 22, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds

Marlene, Frank, Mark, Deborah and Auntie Mabel came to lunch and sat outside beneath an umbrella devouring ploughman's lunches and Black Forest gateau. It seems mercenary taking money from them but if not I'll never make a millionaire. Does Robert Maxwell's cousin have to pay for his 'Daily Mirror'? 

We are told that Elizabeth Taylor wants to die in Wales to be near Richard Burton's ghost. Won't the ghost be floating around in Switzerland? I am confused.

Samuel blows raspberries and entertained his kinfolk, so much so that I detected blue faces and wet eyes. Like Fred Karno's circus. Auntie Mabel dotes on him.

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Tuesday August 21, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds

Lord Fermoy.

Happy birthday to Princess Margaret and her reprobate cousin Gerald Lascelles. No Baker delivery. Margaret Rose Baker would have been so apt and sweet too. I stood in the bar tittering at Jim and George's Daily Star (I presume it's a shared copy). It describes Lord 'Eddie' Fermoy as 'Princess Diana's favourite uncle'. He's her only chuffing uncle. Well, only blood uncle. Her aunts Lady Anne Spencer and the Hon Mary Roche have husbands but they don't count. The Roche aunt is something of a nymphomaniac going by the list of husbands in Debrett's Peerage.

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Monday August 20, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds

Yes, Lord Fermoy uncle of the Divine Diana blew his brains out yesterday at his Berkshire home. He has suffered from depression for years, they say. His mother, Ruth Lady Fermoy, is currently with the Queen Mother at the Castle of Mey. Royal bank holidays seems to be always peppered with sadness.

Lynn was due today (baby no.3) but nothing happened. We had hoped it would happen yesterday when we were sitting in the garden,. Lynn's other babies were both born on a Monday.

Am I perhaps swinging towards the left? Have you spotted SDP tendencies in my entries? I say this because I have begun to find the Sunday Telegraph a trifle boring and dismal. Of course I never get chance to read the Sunday papers until days afterwards. Does this account for my lethargy? I am 29.

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