Monday January 12, 1981

 _. I am cultivating something closely resembling a beard, and although many people fall about laughing at it, I think Ally likes it, and is happy, and the more they mock it, the more I shall grow it, or attempt to grow it, because I'm driven on by comment. At least people are noticing me.

Royal news: The Daily Mail reports that Lady Diana [Spencer] with her sisters and father will be spending next weekend at Sandringham. If this is so then it could have very exciting possibilities. The more I see of Lady D the more I realise she is the girl to be Queen.

Prince Welf Ernst of Hanover, a nephew of the Duke of Edinburgh, and contemporary of the Prince of Wales at Gordonstoun has died suddenly in India, whilst playing karate, aged 33. He has been cremated on the banks of the Ganges in a Hindhu ceremony. Queen Victoria was very fond of Indians, and one, whose name escapes me, rose to be a private secretary and wielded great power over her.

Freezing rain today. Ally's car wouldn't start so she dumped it until this evening and collected it when she came to dinner at 6. I went with Dave G to Leeds and saw him off back to Stockport. We are thinking about Grassington in February.

Poor Dad is working a 12 hour shift from 6am tomorrow, guarding prisoners at Otley. Mum loathes his lengthy absences. Ally and I had a candlelit dinner, and later she went off to Club Street. I hate the Citroen for it's constant indecision. Saw TV. 'The Private Life of Sherlock Holmes' until 11:30. To bed.

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Sunday January 11, 1981

_. 1st Sunday after Epiphany

Out of bed late and again. We went down to the chemist in Guiseley for something for Mum, who was writhing in bed with an upset stomach. Mr Ussher made up some potion and we took it back to Mum, tucked up safely in bed. To preserve the tranquility of the house we took Dave to Burley where we sat drinking sherry with my ever widening sister. Dave B was nowhere to be seen. He was out in his garage playing with the engine of Lynn's car. We sat with our drinks in one room whilst Lynn and Dave had roast lamb for lunch in another. Ally thought that this was perhaps a trifle rude. When we did have conversation it centred on babies and houses. Christine Dibb has told Lynn that Ally was moving from Bradford. Highly amusing.

Back to Pine Tops at 6 for dinner with Dad. Mum still laid up, but slightly better. Pork chops by candlelight. Watched TV until almost 1am. We started with 'Houseboat' starring Cary Grant and Sophia Loren, then Vanessa Redgrave playing Fania Fénelon in 'Playing for Time', a horrific tale about the Auschwitz concentration camp. Finally, James Mason and Diana Coupland in 'Spring and Port Wine'. To bed at 1. Ally looked exhausted and Dave, full of cold, sniffed throughout the epic TV session.

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Saturday January 10, 1981

 _. Out of bed at almost 12. Breakfast on eggs, bacon, &c. As soon as it was decently possible we escaped to the Bod for a drink. A pleasant session. Afterwards we drove to Guiseley and sat with Mama and Sue and Pete. Sue clad in a new fur coat - a Christmas present from Pete. Wine flowed. Snow fell. Night fell.

Out at 8 [Ally driving] Dave, Sue, Pete and I to the Fox & Hounds and then the New Inn. Saw George W and Jayne [again], but we left the Fox after just two drinks because it's such a dull, old place. The New Inn is delightfully rough, and packed. Sat with Dave W, Gus, Johnny, and a guy from Hull. The usual mob were in pouring drink all over each other. I was revolted to see a heap of genuine vomit on the bar at the end of the evening - carrots, the lot. Came home to Pine Tops afterwards. I was feeling damp after Johnny had pushed me into a urinal at the New Inn. It was flushing at the time reminiscent of going over the Niagara Falls. We made a good deal of noise before going to bed.

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Friday January 9, 1981

 _. To Leeds from Bradford. Felt tatty - wearing the same shirt from the day before. Spent the day 'running' the library. Home at 6 after meeting Dave G at the station. He has a glowing nose and had even less hair. We both dined with Mum, Dad and JPH. They'd been looking after my nephew for the day because Maria had an appointment with a gynaecologist. JPH behaved himself very well, whilst David spilled his wine over the table and slopped around like a three year-old. JPH told me that I have a funny voice. I probably do.

Ally came over at 8 and the three of us went to the Fox. We met George Waite again. He was drunk and didn't say much. To the New Inn at 9:30 to meet John, Maria and Chris Ratcliffe. The place was packed and noisy. Chris hated it.

Maria told me of her gynaecological problem __________, and because of this she has to come back to Yokshire in a fortnight to see the quack again. She had told this story to Mum and Dad this afternoon, and Dad [poor man] bolted red-faced from the room. He embarrasses so easily. 

John was very talkative and on leaving he kissed Ally, which touched her. He isn't a kisser.

We left at 11 and took David to Club Street. Had a few drinks and listened to the Specials before bed.

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Thursday January 8, 1981

 _. Princess Alice, Countess of Athlone was buried at Frogmore today. Her daughter looks older than she did.

To Ally's from the YP at 5. The bus was packed with smokers puffing out clouds of smoggy effluence. A real 'pea souper' in fact. Ally made a rabbit stew and we ate by candlelight. We rarely speak at these dinners. She cooks and I listen to the radio, and then we eat and look at each other across the table.

Afterwards we went to the Bod, vibrating to the sound of its juke box. We stood in the top bar looking down on the main body of the revellers. ____________. Back to Ally's at 10:30. Thought of going to Oakwood Hall, but didn't. Bed before 2.

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Wednesday January 7, 1981

 _. Tired and hungover all day. Up at 7:45 and out at 8. I told Ally I would give her a ring [in more ways than one], and she giggled.

Already I'm quite sick of the Ripper news. The Solicitor-General has criticised certain organs of the press for naming Sutcliffe before he had been charged. Let's face it, he'll never have a fair trial anyway.

The Daily Mail Dempster column says that Lady Diana [Spencer] may not be in the Klosters skiing party next month, and goes on to say that Charles's ardour for Lady D is waning. Oh God, has another one bitten the dust?

Spoke to Ally at 12. We both agreed that last night's proposal or the acceptance thereof was not made because of excess alcohol intake and we both stick to our guns. Knee knocking isn't it?

Home at 6 for dinner. Thirsty all night. Must be dehydration. Watched a bit of TV, climbed the stairs at 9:15 and hit the sack. Christmas has really taken it's toll.

Kathleen has been off since Wednesday. Her father is dying of a brain tumour.

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Tuesday January 6, 1981

 _. Epiphany. New Moon.

Rain and snow. Took Thomas Hardy back to the Central Library. I just have not had time to look at him.

Phoned Ally. She agreed to come over tonight. She bought new trousers and a pullover today. The girl's a spendthrift. Phoned Dave L at 7. He's a bit of fun. Ally came clad in blue at 8 and by 8:30 we were in the Fox & Hounds. Bumped int George Waite, and he stayed with us for the evening. He is a lecherous bounder. _____. Ally was Little Red Riding Hood to George's wolf. Or was it a fox?

Saw Jim and Margaret with Julie celebrating her 17th birthday. Bought the girl a drink. Jim's eyes lit up when I told him I have a photostat of [Peter] Sutcliffe showing him sat at the wheel of his lorry. He'll see it on Thursday. 

On to the Hare. John, Maria, Dave L, Christine Dibb, Graham Airey, Chris Rat, Pete Mather, Carol Smith and husband, Andy and Linda Graham, &c. A pleasant chat with old friends over a few pints..... Or that's how it should have been. Ally and I then went to Ridgeway with John and Maria until 1.

In bed tonight I proposed marriage to Ally. This isn't a new thing. We take it in turns to spasmodically propose marriage to each other, but tonight was quite the most serious attempt to date. I was accepted and now the only thing to do is decide upon a date. June is nice.

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Monday January 5, 1981

 _.The Yorkshire Ripper [Peter William Sutcliffe, born June 2, 1945], a Bradford man, was charged, at Dewsbury police station, with Jacqueline Hill's murder this evening. A mob exceeding 2,000 thronged the streets shouting abuse, and behaving likes wolves. It hasn't sunk in yet. Quite amazing. The Ripper has been at the forefront of our lives, hanging over our every move, since '75, and now we know he's a 'respectable' chap from the Bradford suburb of Heaton who wouldn't say 'boo to a goose'. Jim Rawnsley reckons that Mrs Ripper will easily make £250,000 out of the case. Obviously, Sutcliffe isn't an engineer with a Tyneside accent, and neither does he stutter or have a gap in his front teeth. I imagine George Oldfield will be having a skinful tonight. Busy day at the YP, naturally. Home at 6.

Stick photos into my new album. John and Maria walked round from Ridgeway at 9 and sat until 1am. Mum departed suddenly to her chambers at 11. Maria informed me that an 'old style' gathering is taking place at the Hare & Hounds tomorrow at which my presence is a necessity. I've no money, but agreed to go.

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Sunday January 4, 1981

 _. 2nd Sunday after Christmas

Slept late again. Ally's delicate condition has made her an invalid. Our breakfast took place in the early hours of the afternoon. She took tea and bread and butter and I had kippers.

A sunny, cold day. In the afternoon we helped Mum prepare for tonight's 'home movie show' party at which scores of relations are once again to put in an appearance.

John, Maria and the children descended upon us in the afternoon. They were at a party last night at Tony Brotherwood's. Catherine alters by the hour and is a gorgeous character, endowed with charm and cunning.

At 6:30 Marlene, Frank, Auntie Mabel and her thermal underwear clad companion [Connie?] arrived with the kids, followed by sweet Lynn, Dave, Sue, Pete, Jim, Margaret and Julie. We sat in the dark watching Frank's movies of the Baker wedding of '78, and the Nason wedding of '80, followed by a sumptuous supper washed down with fine wines. I played at barman, assisted by Ally, because Dad had been at Otley playing at jailer for 12 hours from 6am [he's doing this because of the prison officers' strike, you know], and was too tired to apply his mind as to whether Mabel wanted brandy in her Advocaat, or whether Debbie was old enough to sample the Emva Cream Sherry.

Amazing news tonight: heard at about 8pm that a Bradford man arrested in Sheffield is now at Dewsbury Police station helping the police with their enquiries with regard to the Yorkshire Ripper murders. An astounded house heard from Papa that he'd been told this afternoon.

I gave Ally £2 for necessities to keep her until Thursday. Took a bath and climbed into bed at 1:30am.

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Saturday January 3, 1981

 _. High winds, rain. Woke up at 10 and switched off my alarm and slept until 12. Downstairs mother was going through her papers, settling bills,&c, and was composed after last night's upset. Dad was nowhere to be seen and was out on constabulary duties. I bathed. Ally showered. I stood looking at my face in the bathroom mirror wondering what to do about my beard. I haven't shaved since last Tuesday, and resemble a convict.

At about 2 [Ally and me] walked down the lane to look at spin dryers in Wigfall's. Mrs D is posting Ally a cheque by way of a Christmas present, and a dryer is top of the list. We found nothing suitable in this 'olde worlde' electrical appliance shop but caused a scene gasping at a news bulletin on the TV there proclaiming the death of Princess Alice, Countess of Athlone, Queen Victoria's last surviving granddaughter. The old girl would have been 98 next month. It seems that the Queen cannot get through a Bank Holiday without have to pack and head for Windsor and a family funeral.

We returned home at 3:30 bedraggled. Dined with Mum and Dad and then sat very quietly watching Sophia Loren re-enacting her own life on film. Mum and Dad were slightly subdued. It always takes them a while to recover from a bust up. Saw 'Arsenic and Old Lace'. Went to bed at 1:15.

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Friday January 2, 1981

 _. Bank Holiday in Scotland

Mum and Dad's birthday. Whilst Ally and I were back at work the rest of the family  went to Cracoe for lunch. I spent the whole day watching the clock wishing I could be with them. Ally phoned to say she'd bought a fern for Mum and Dad - a temporary present until I get some money. Oh, how I need money.

Ally met me in Guiseley at 6 and we found a full house knocking back wine at Pine Tops. Dad was drunk. They all left at about 7 so that Mum and Dad could get ready to go down to Giovanni's, but it soon became painfully obvious that Papa was in no fit staten to go anywhere. He was tottering around with an ashen face and bloodshot eyes. However, they did leave at 8, but were back within the space of half an hour. Dad staggered up to bed and Mum burst into tears, saying he has ruined her birthday.

Ally went to bed at 10:30 and I sat with Mum for two hours.

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