Monday January 21, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

New Moon

Dad went to Horton leaving Mum at Sue's for the day. We had a stocktake. It was Rob. It is two weeks since the last one. We are £12 down and the loss is in the Old Brewery Bitter. I tip too much away, and certainly cannot return all the spillages to the barrel. Ron stayed to lunch and had the steak and kidney. Discussed 'flexi-hours' which we are going to have pushed down our throats at the coming managers' meeting. The Scottish experiment has been a success. Before becoming a pub landlord I found the licensing laws totally ludicrous for the 20th century, but now I am at the other side of the bar I am undecided. Mum and Dad came back after 8. Mum laughed that it was the latest she's been out since her 'operation'. Mum is worried about Sue's gynaecological problems. She is awaiting a letter from Charing Cross Hospital. It is Lynn's opinion that Susan should have no further children. Pub quiet. Dull pool match. Ally drove Maureen home. I watched Ronald Reagan being sworn in for a further four years. It was an indoor job because of the weather.

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Sunday January 20, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

2nd Sunday after Epiphany

One of those days where we were all tetchy, plans were adrift, tempers flew, &c. To Menston and John's, but didn't get away until after 1pm. We left Mum in bed. Dad looking forlorn with the Sunday Telegraph on his knees. John's new house is filthy. He was very Churchillian in his boiler suit demolishing the kitchen. A podgy JPH was dismantling a spacecraft and watching 'Top of the Pops' videos. I joined him. Apparently, I'd arrived too late to do any work, but had a guided tour. Janette came back from the shops with a giggling Catherine, and Ally played with her on the floor. I sat, almost in a coma, with my coat pulled over my ears, looking out at the snow-capped roofs of Menston. Then on to Lynn's. Had a whisky and watched a Doris Day film. Frances was smacked and put to bed for naughtiness. Poor Katie was flinching and covering her eyes expecting to be similarly punished. At home at 5 Mum and Dad were 'frosty' to say the least and must have had a bad day together. They didn't speak for the rest of the evening, and when they don't speak neither do we. We dined on pork chops. Watched the TV series 'By the Sword Divided'. Not a pleasant evening. Samuel refused to sleep and screeched at regular intervals. Ally was too tired to prepare the food for the pub lunches and went to bed at 10:30. T stayed up bottling and did the till.

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Saturday January 19, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

Samuel had a lousy night and kept us awake at intervals. This broken night gave Ally a touch of the screaming Adolf Hitlers. The girl cannot miss out on her sleep. We went out at 9 and had Samuel photographed in his sailor suit at Boots. He looked a little toff. On to the pine shop on Burley Road where we spent £240 on bedside cabinets and a large chest of drawers. The salesperson looked like a painted doll. Ally did her very best to get some discount but the painted doll turned a deaf ear. I have never been comfortable bartering. Such an un-English thing to do. The flea markets and bazaars of Casablanca maybe, but not Kirkstall. We also went to Morrison's and spent £50 on nothing. 

Back at the Moorhouse for 1 o'clock we found found Mum very bright and bustling around making lunch as in days of yore. She says the day had begun very badly because she had broken down catching sight of her reflection in the bathroom mirror. It's so cruel that she should look so ghastly when she has always been so self-conscious. At 2 we ate stew and Yorkshire puds together whilst listening to organ music from the Royal Albert Hall by Nicholas Kynaston (a cassette from David Howard). Ally found it very morbid. 

Mabel, Marlene, Frank and Debbie came at 4. Samuel was flustered by it all and hid behind the furniture. We ate toasted teacakes, scotch pancakes, crumpets, and drank gallons of tea. Ally was exhausted and sloped around in a dressing gown and could not go to bed because Samuel was playing up. I was downstairs with Mavis until after 12. 

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Friday January 18, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

John and Janette moved to Leathley Crescent this morning. Dad went to help, dropping Mum at Lynn's. __________. They returned after 6. Hilda had phoned just before they came in and she asked me if Mum could have any medical treatment at all, and I felt choked, and just gargled down the blower. ________. I went down and stood with Leonard (or 'FA' as he is known because he resembles the famous football cup of that name). Ally went to bed, but Samuel kept her awake.

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Thursday January 17, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

We expected Donna Lea all day but she didn't materialise. This evening we were preparing for our Guiseley excursion when in walked John and Janette. Ally and I went downstairs under the pretext of waiting for Donna and after a decent interval we returned to the family to find them all silent and sitting uncomfortably. We  went to Sue's leaving them staring blankly at Bob Hope and Bing Crosby in 'Road to Rio'.   ____________.

At Sue's we found Lynn and Dave. I sat with Lynn on the settee and she cried buckets when I told her what conversation had passed between me and Dad last Thursday, and that he would live on alone at Waltergarth. What does she expect him to do? Lynn is so naive about life and death. Truly worrying. Move to a terrace house in Guiseley and mope around for the next 20 years? Sue looked slim and jovial, but is worried about her own condition and is undergoing tests. Chris was at a similar age to Ben now when she had that awful thing in Oct '82. John and Janette arrived and said that Mum had given them a 'rough ride' and Janette says she almost broke down at Mum's coldness. _______. The baby is due in July and they are going to live in unmarried bliss at Leathley Crescent, Menston, to where they flit tomorrow.  _________. We all did a good deal of drinking. I attacked the whisky with some gusto. Janette spoke of the harrowing aspects of cancer and recalled the gruelling deaths of people she has known. I did not find this helpful. We got home at 3am and cooked fish and chips. Both of us feel quite sick.

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Wednesday January 16, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

Mum had a very low day and stayed abed, refusing to get out. Dad was quiet and he didn't sit with her as he usually does. [Redaction].

Who should walk in at lunchtime but Graham John Dixon traveling from Doncaster and on his way to Manchester. He ate lunch and I stood swilling ale with him.

to Mabel's for tea. Samuel in his sailor suit. Thick snow everywhere. She spoke of Mum and spoke of faith in God. Dear auntie said she wishes she could take Mum's place. She is 16 years older. I sat like a cabbage eating lemon cake. Ally does most of the talking these days. We got home at about 6:30. Mum was still in bed. Mabel sent her a home grown daffodil.

I phoned Susan to say we would definitely go to Guiseley tomorrow because John and Janette are coming here to give their news to Mum and Dad. She said she would speak to John about his approach to Mama during the day tomorrow because he's going to Thorpe Lane to build a wardrobe.

Down in the bar I sat with Harold. Rob Piper came in. We are going with him and Kath to the managers meeting on January 28. Upstairs we ate cockles and mussels. Mum, laying wide awake in bed, says Dad has been out cold since 9:30.

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Tuesday January 15, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

Snow falling. Horribly cold.

Princess Michael is 40. She says she is known as 'MC' in the family and not as 'Our Val'. MC is of course Marie-Christine.

Mum pottered about in the kitchen making sheep's head broth and dumplings. It is an old Wilson family recipe and now more or less extinct because sheep's heads, like cod roes, are scarce. A great pity. The pub was quiet. Three old men supping ice-cold mild in sub-zero temperatures. We ate at 2. Afterwards Ally and I went out with Samuel and scaled Dewsbury Rd in arctic conditions to buy cod roes and other provisions. Samuel refused to wear gloves and had blue fingers. 

Ally went down and opened the pub at 5:30 and I went down at 8. We sat with Harold Wilkinson and Co. talking about regional dialects, and way that all Londoners think that Yorkshiremen 'work down't pit', eat tripe and onions and wear clogs on the cobbled streets, &c. 

Dad sat reading the Oxford Dictionary of Quotations. He suggested to Mum that we might visit Auntie Mabel tomorrow, but she says she isn't up to it. Later I phoned auntie and she said they might come here at the weekend. Watched 'Edgar Wallace' until 12:30 and ate cheese and biscuits. Still no word from John and Janette. Little buggers.

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