_.20th Sunday after Trinity
Up at about 9. Our visitors were making good their escape. Steve is watching football at Kippax and they couldn't stay for breakfast.
Ally, in a dreadful state, regrets accepting an invitation to lunch with Jill and Tim. She found a black dress she bought last year. Tim came and collected us at 2 and took us to Valley Rd, Pudsey, a nice, solid terrace house. There until 9:30. We had roast pork. My eyes felt like lead. Tim drove us home.
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_.Hallow'een
Bright, brisk and cheerful day. Up at 9:05 precisely and into a hot bath after which I filled a bucket with soapy water and went out to clean the windows.
Lidget Green is like Burnsall or Hawes today and I wouldn't swap Ash Tree Cottage for Haddon Hall or Chevening combined.
We had toast and then took Audrey back to the licensed bandits that are Jack Andrews. Car salesmen are a revolting species. Why did God create them? I put them on a par with the shortly to be extinct blood sucking leech.
Onward into town to buy vegetables, meat, and the gallons of booze for tonight. Home at 4 and spent some time making the place look party-like. Ally looking glorious in her yellow knickerbockers and black 'boob tube'. Paul phoned from Rodley. He and Jacq can't make it. That's two down.
Sue and Pete were first arrivals, followed by the Bakers, Gadsbys, Sandersons and Elmers, and Mr Lawson. A humorous, pleasant night. Lynn and Dave seemed cheerful but we were told Frances-talk had been banned. I didn't get helpless, and recall most of the jokes. Dave L brought a turnip lantern with him. I do like cousin Jill. She is so quiet and oozing with motherly kindness. Karen spotted my 'Caligula' book and gloated over the pornographic Roman photography. She said that both her and her mother are avid porno readers. Everybody danced wildly without any casualties.
Dave L and I found ourselves upon the settee [like Kissinger and Arafat] discussing politics and the next SDP government. He thinks that Shirley Williams is the greatest thing since Cleopatra, and doesn't seem to mind the idea that Cyril Smith might be foreign secretary. Poor boy.
The party fizzled out at 4-ish. Karen, Steve, Di and Paul had the spare room. Ally and I did the washing up and listened to Rachmaninov. We finished off with bread and cheese, Bed at dawn.
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_. Up at 6:30 and plunged into a hot bath. Ally remained in bed, moaning, her nose poking from the continental quilt. She resembled a gassed badger.
Ate porridge. It's clear that Ally has a cold. I only hope she'll survive the coming weekend and its riotous, Borgia-like excesses.
YP was better than of recent. Friday always helps. Kathleen is already talking about summer holidays next year. I remained silent on that matter.
Dad, God bless him, saw Jack Andrews this morning and came away quietly confident that he had conveyed our grievance in a coherent, and reasonable manner. What has come over Dad? Asserting himself so admirably. Spoke to Mum. Lynn and Dave are going on Saturday and leaving Frances with them for the night. Lynn must have been getting miserable about the monotony and constant routine with no time for play.
Dinner: fried liver and onions. Ally went upstairs with the vaccuum cleaner and I could hear furniture moving around from one room to another. Phoned Karen at 8. The Pudsey crew are all coming. Dave L phoned me afterwards. He is broke, and pleased we are starting here at 9 and not at the pub. He was busy making lanterns from turnips for his nephew, Ashley.
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_. It wasn't as wet today, but the rain came down at the vital moments when I was outside scantily clad. When I say vital, I of course mean crucial.
Saw in the Times that Denys Gravenor Rhodes has died. Distantly related, no doubt. He was married to the Hon Margaret Elphinstone, the Queen's cousin and bridesmaid. She is one of the few Rhodeses in the peerage, with the exception of the Rhodes baronet and Lord Rhodes of Saddleworth, KG [who is a life peer].
Brisk walk at lunch. I spotted Christine Braithwaite in Albion Street, but she had gone before we could speak.
Mum phoned me at 4. Dave called in to see them yesterday evening and then Lynn phoned her at 8 and was chatty and normal but made no apology for her peculiar behaviour. Today Mum and Susie lunched at Burley, and so the breach might be healed.
Spaghetti with Ally. She's still wearing my woollen sweater.
News: The Princess of Wales received the freedom of Cardiff and made a speech, partly in Welsh. I must say what a fortunate young man the Prince of Wales is.
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_. A dark, wet day. Spent some time with Bob Cockroft. I gave him a good story for the People column. Lady Ropner, wife of Sir John Ropner, of Thorp Perrow, has given birth to a son and heir in London. Sir John, 44, has four daughters and the baronetcy is now saved from extinction.
Stayed in the office at lunchtime. Something of a fast day, because I forgot to bring sandwiches, and because Margot is off we had no regular supply of tea and coffee. Have I said why Margot is missing? She is in hospital having her toe nails removed. Ugh. Shazzo called in and I invited her to ours on Saturday.
The royal Welsh, or perhaps squelch programme continues. Despite heavy rain the Welsh have given the Waleses a great welcome. Diana looked splendid in limp ostrich feathers very much in the style of the Queen Mother.
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| Pepys. |
Today the office was slightly more tolerable. Sarah slightly better. Took a brisk walk at lunch time. Traversing Park Square.
Home in one piece, which was almost not the case when two Bradford lasses started brawling on the upper deck of the bus. Handbags were flying. Some of these Bradford girls are like rugby prop forwards.
We had a stew and dumplings and watched 'Brideshead Revisited'. Read Baldwin.
Spoke to Mum at 8:30. Still no word from Lynn. Dad is marvellous about Jack Andrews and says he will go alone one afternoon.
The Prince and Princess of Wales are in Wales on a three day tour of the principality. The princess seemed overwhelmed. They had a tumultuous welcome, which included a visit to Carnarvon Castle and a meeting with Lord Snowdon.
Bed by 11.
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_. Bank Holiday in the Republic of Ireland
Unspeakable day at the YP. You have no idea how hideous it is working in an office full of women. I'd love to get out, but in these days of 27 million unemployed I'm in no position to quit.
Saw Jacq in town. She's coming to ours on Saturday.
Ally phoned Mum, back from Northumberland, and was caught in the act and reprimanded by Derek [Jenkins] for making a private call. Ally has asked Papa to accompany her to Jack Andrews garage and look savage and menacing. He has agreed, but first he wants us to draw up a history of the saga of our dealings with the Citroen garage. It makes frightening reading. Frank has been consulted. Audrey has got to go. We are going to be carless. Is this the start of our fall into mediocrity? Are we to be trapped in Bradford 7 forever?
Home at 6 to a depressed Ally. She's sick of Derek, sick of the car and sick of Lynn's behaviour. We had chicken [again]. Phoned Mum and Dad at 6:30.
News: a terrorist bomb in London's Oxford Street has killed a bomb disposal PC. Diana starts work tomorrow with a visit to Wales. The poor princess has received her first bad press with the recent stag killing mularkey. She must be a worried girl with such responsibilities at 20. How many people could withstand it? Mrs Thatcher is still PM. I have no idea where the snake Geoffrey Rippon is lurking tonight.
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_. 19th Sunday after Trinity. British Summer Time Ends
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| Jim. |
On to Fieldhead Road where Jim looked at Audrey's bottom. Our suspicions were confirmed by him and Pamela's boyfriend, Peter. Both were on their backs beneath the car gasping at the horrors of the cunning of Jack Andrews. We are advised to 'get rid'.
Back at Club St we painted the hall and landing a shade of pale jasmine until after 7. We had a roast chicken.
Watched the final part of 'Churchill: The Wilderness Years'.
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_. United Nations Day
Up late, 10:30. After a greasy repast of sausages and eggs we walked, yes walked, to Whetley Hill garage and collected an ailing Audrey recently fitted with new king-pins to the value of £78. We drove, quite illegally, to Morrison's for our weekly provisions. I say illegally because the MOT expired over a week ago.
On at 1:30 to the Hermit at Burley Woodhead to have a couple of drinks with Jim Nason. He says he will inspect the holes in the car floor, but the rain puts off the inspection until tomorrow. Sank a couple of lagers. On to Sue and Pete's. We decide to dine with them at the Hare & Hounds tonight. We left them at 4 and drove to Burley, but there was no sign of the Bakers. We went back to Club St, bathed, changed, and then drove back to Guiseley. Lynn, Dave & Frances were at Sue's. Lynn very sheepish and peculiar. Similarly, Dave was non-committal. I showed my annoyance and I think Lynn got the message. She made some remarks about us going out tonight, and planted feelings of ill will. She must have some form of depression. The long hours she spends alone with the baby must be having an adverse effect and getting her down.
At 7:30 to the Hare & Hounds. The four of us had steaks. Pete was thrilled. They under-charged us for the wine. We paid £2.20 instead of £4. An animated, pleasant dinner. Afterwards we went down to the Fox and bumped into Diane and Paul. They're coming over to ours on Oct 31.
We slept at West End Terrace.
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_. The car is a thorn in our side. Obviously Jack Andrews sold Ally a wreck on Sept 23 last year. The floor is seriously corroded to the extent that Ally has been precariously close to disappearing through the bodywork, and it's so obvious now, but too late. The vehicle was bodged by Jack Andrews to sell to an innocent lady buyer.
Mum and Dad go to Northumberland. We had a mince concoction for dinner. Reading of Baldwin's early life up to 1920 he seems to have been unambitious. Watched a bit of telly, but programmes were abysmal.
We have decided that tomorrow we will go to Guiseley to see Jim Nason, and then to Sue's and finally to Lynn's at Burley.
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_. At the YP _________ is becoming more and more schizophrenic. Maniacal, in fact.
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| Baldwin: devious |
Home to Piglet at 6. Walked to the local library. Back at 7 with a biography of Stanley Baldwin by H. Montgomery Hyde. I have never taken to Baldwin always having looked at him through the eyes of the Duke of Windsor, and he painted Stanley as a devious, sinister, pipe-smoking vole, with a cunning and shifty gaze. Obviously, Edward VIII bore a grudge.
We had fish and chips. Mum and Dad go to Northumberland tomorrow, and still haven't heard from Lynn. Horrid girl.
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A warm, gentle day. Ally and I took off to town with Samuel at 1pm. We didn't take the pram and I carried baby for two hours, by the end...
