Friday December 26, 1980

 _. Bank Holiday in England, Ireland, Scotland & Wales.

Ally and I had lunch with Mum and Dad. Cold meat and lashings of wine. Sat by the lights on the Christmas tree afterwards waiting for John and Maria. They came at 5. I nursed Catherine. She says 'cup', and 'bye bye' and 'Crackerjack'. Very bonnie.

At 6:30 Ally and I left for Club Street to bedeck the house with Xmas cards and after a frantic tidy round we headed for the Bod to meet Sue [looking flushed], Pete [with a raging temperature], Dave L [a must at any party, a great friend], Jacq, Paul, Pete Sate, _____with a girl called Kay, Chris & Audrey Rycroft, and a dwarf called Christine. By 9:30 Pete N was feeling really ill and so he and Sue left, taking the Rycrofts and the dwarf with them, leaving Ally and I with only a skeleton staffed Boxing Day party. On to Club Street. Great fun. John & Maria joined us late and she played Christmas Carols on the piano, and we all sang and danced in true festive style.

Dave L will always have a niche in my heart, if that doesn't sound too queer. Since 1967 we have been the greatest of friends, and although we can go many months without seeing one another, when we do meet it's as if we have never been apart. A true, brotherly relationship. To bed with Ally at about 5am. Dave had a bunk bed in the spare room. He was the only over night guest.

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Thursday December 25, 1980

 _. Up at 11 feeling well, happy and unscathed from the debauchery of yesterday. For a couple of hours I helped Mum prepare a sumptuous buffet lunch of enormous proportions. The traditional 'sit down' Christmas lunch has been dropped this year owing to the growing family and general over crowding. We played around with prawns and cold meat until clan began to assemble after 2. Jim Nason and Pamela's boyfriend dropped in and then went on to the Hermit [a tradition for Jim].

Lynn, Dave, Sue, Pete, John and Maria all walked in during the Queen's broadcast. Just not on. We'd just got to the bit where the Queen Mother was patting a horse called Sidney.

Present opening: I received a bloody umbrella from Mama. How very sensible. Ally gave me the 'More Specials' LP, plus a Givenchy aftershave set and a jumper. Astounding. The buffet was a great success, and less work for Mama and Papa. We avoided any TV until about 9pm. Pete's been feeling off colour all week. A sore throat.

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Wednesday December 24, 1980

 _. Christmas Eve. The annual Bacchanalian orgy took place at the YP. We finished everything in the office by 11 and then drank whisky and dry ginger with the girls and exchanged presents. The usual rigmarole. Ally phoned to say she'd collect me at 1. She arrived with Catherine Brook [such a Jane Austen character] and we went to Parker's to join Sarah, Carol J and Shazzo. After one drink we made our escape and went on to the Central with Shazzo in tow. Parker's, she says, is too posh for her. Everything became a little blurred. 

We met Pete Lazenby and at closing time he accompanied Ally, Catherine and I to Club Street where we indulged in more wine and we all sang heartily around the piano. Pete gave us a tremendous rendering of several of his monologues - 'Three Ha'pence a Foot' and 'Albert and the Lion', &c. He did not approve of us singing 'Land of Hope and Glory', and midway through this he disappeared to a butcher's shop to buy a leg of pork for his mother. We then took Catherine and a staggering Pete home. Home pissed.

Dressed and out at 8 to Hilda and Tony's Silver Wedding party at the Pudsey Civic Centre. I don't quite know how I kept going. Mama disapproved of my condition, and my staggering was something of a focal point. From the party we went on to Hilda's. I annoyed Uncle T by constantly asking whether Santa had been yet. 'No Michael. Not until you have been to sleep' was his reply. Home after 2am, and to bed.

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Tuesday December 23, 1980

 _. More pay [a fortnight's money today because of the holidays]. To Ally's from the YP. Out to Mamma Mia's Pizzeria on Manningham Lane for a romantic nosh before returning to Guiseley at 8. Mum and Dad were miserable and so we left hurriedly for Lynn and Dave's where we sat watching TV. Ally gave me disapproving looks. We left at 11 and watched Walter Matthau in 'Pete 'n Tilly'.

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Monday December 22, 1980

 _. Ally had another 'fuddle' at Mamma Mia's. I took an early lunch at 11 to avoid the crowds and bought a hanging basket for Ally, then returned to the office bemoaning a lack of finances.

The Press today is silent on Lady Diana, but a steady flow of photos from different agencies show that some organs of the media expect HM to announce Wales's engagement in her Christmas broadcast. Fools that they are.

Later Ally came to Pine Tops like Santa Claus bearing whisky and rum and we sat by a roaring TV with Mama and Papa.

Ally is such a little belter. Whatever did I do in the days before she appeared?

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Sunday December 21, 1980

 _.4th Sunday in Advent

Day of recuperation. Ally and I watched 'The Wizard of Oz' on the BBC. Amazingly enough, she's never seen it. Judy Garland is horrible. I cannot see how 36 men happened to fall in love with her and marry her.

Question: Why is it that since visiting the dentist three weeks ago I've had nothing but trouble from a newly filled tooth which previous gave me nothing but loyal, painless service and selfless satisfaction? Could it be that Hough's successor is a butcher? Thinking now of Laurence Olivier attacking Dustin Hoffman in 'The Marathon Man'. Ghastly.

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Saturday December 20, 1980

 _. To Bingley Christmas shopping this morning. 

Lazenby's party at Park Rd. Ally and I began at the New Inn, packed with juveniles covered in shaving foam and behaving like third formers. Come to think of it, I'm usually covered in shaving foam and behaving like a third former which means a) I'm getting old, b) I'm out of shaving foam, or c) I've stopped shaving.

Previously in the day Ally and I joined Mama and Papa at Sue and Pete's for drinks at West End Terrace. [I have made a hash of today's journal entry. It's all back to front and upside down].

Needless to say, Lazenby's party was tremendous. Not as packed as last year, but excellent all the same. Bob Schofield insisted on bringing his dog, and a huge joint of roast beef in garlic appeared. Ally was certain that an old friend of mine [who I only tend to see once a year on this festive night] is in fact the Yorkshire Ripper. Jack [the Ripper] has done for Yorkshire what Leonard Cheshire did for Nagasaki.

Home at almost 8am. Ally was exhausted, even tearful.

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Friday December 19, 1980

 _. Over to Ally's at 6 and straight out to Mamma Mia's pizzeria on Manningham Lane for a naughty Italian dinner [naughty, owing to the fact we have little spare money, and Ally is writing cheques like no tomorrow]. After piping hot lasagne we went on to the Bod and then back to Rue Club for the night. Is Yuletide here?

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Thursday December 18, 1980

 _. Pay day. To the Drop with Ally and then the New Inn where we 'accidentally' meet Sue, Audrey and the diminutive Christine. Quite boozed up. At home for 11. Jim and Margaret and Lynn [no Dave, he was out working] were making merry. Lynn expands daily. Spend hours persuading Mum and Dad to take a pub, but somehow I cannot see it coming off. Is Papa 'cut out' for the pub landlord role? Methinks he is far too argumentative and intolerant for such a vital PR existence.

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Wednesday December 17, 1980

 _. Nothing to report. Didn't see Ally. I miss her presence. Three days apart, in love, is a long time. 

Still pouring over Parson Woodforde's journal, made all the more interesting by Papa who says he's visited many of the Norfolk villages mentioned by Woodforde. Dad says that some of the pubs visited by Woodforde are still in existence. Also read Hardy. [The Book is upstairs and I can't be bothered going up for it to tell you the title].

Later, upstairs: The book is 'Desperate Remedies'.

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Tuesday December 16, 1980

 _. Warm day for the time of year, don't you think? Certain organs allegedly reporting the meteorological office say we are in for a 'White Christmas'. The last serious white Christmas was in 1970. John and I were doing paper rounds for James Bywater at the Quality House newsagent. We both fell off our bicycles in the ice on Hillway, Tranmere Park. Mum, that year, had a large party at which both Wilson and Rhodes relatives flocked. It was one of the last times I saw my cousin Sam. Uncle Harry and Mavis split up in February '71, and I haven't laid eyes on her since. Where is Uncle H? I really do miss him.

Busy day. No Kathleen. Sarah took a half-day. Spent the afternoon typing up the files of Foot's Shadow Cabinet appointments. I shudder at the thought of what damage this mob could do if they ever found office. Anthony Wedgwood Benn is conspicuous by his absence and I'm very easy uneasy about this. Like a phoenix he'll rise again. Most of Foot's appointments appear to be Welshmen. Will they LEEK some of Labour's secrets to the press? [Geddit?]

Spoke twice to Ally after work. I phoned her at 7 and she rang me at 8:30 to tell me that she had just heard on the radio that the Prince of Wales has taken up residence at Highgrove. At the mention of Buckingham Palace poor Ally almost fainted with expectancy thinking it was the engagement to Lady D.F.S.

Sat with Mum until Dad came in off duty at 10. She is sick and tired of his unsociable hours of work. They both pray for September 1982, when he retires. 

In the news: 48 million IRA prisoners in Ulster are starving themselves to death because Mrs Thatcher has refused to give them the status of political prisoners. Let them die, that's what I say. The penultimate Duke of Portland has died only to be succeeded by his 83 year-old kid brother. Not a healthy situation.

To bed at 11:45 with Thomas Hardy.

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