Thursday November 5, 1981

 _. Off out into the cold at 7:45. Bounced into the YP with an air of unconcealable efficiency about me. Very pleased that Bob [Cockroft] used my piece about Davina Sheffield announcing her engagement to Jake Morley. I have always liked Davina, and out of all the Prince of Wales's ex-girlfriends I think she is the best. I always hoped she'd be the future Queen.

Queen Gladys?

My phone trilled at 11. It was an excited Ally. The tea lady had just been in her office and announced that the Princess of Wales is pregnant and expecting a child next June. At exactly that time there was a buzz on the newsdesk. Geoff Hemingway, somewhat unfeelingly I think, asked drily who the father might be. This is excellent news. A direct heir to the Crown and the first direct heir to be born since 1948. So, it's either Prince George or Princess Victoria of Wales. I'd be very surprised at Craig, Darren, or Shirley. They have to be so careful naming a future monarch because he/she gives his/her name to the era in which he/she reigns. Just imagine if Queen Victoria had been Gladys? The period of great change, industrial revolution, and progress, the British Empire, Disraeli, the aspidistra, would have gone down in history as the Gladysian era. Would Elizabeth I have held sway over Ye Olde England as Queen Mavis? And what about Elvis the Lionheart?

Home at 6. Ally beaming. We went out at 8 to look at a smoky bonfire. Had a couple of drinks at Mucky Willie's and came home at 9. Ally felt faint and was put to bed. I watched News at 10. We have had a good royal year.

-=-

Wednesday November 4, 1981

 _. The bus journeys to and from the office grow steadily worse. The Leeds-Bradford run is reminiscent of the Burma Railway, only worse. 

The State Opening of Parliament took place today. The first time that a Princess of Wales has attended since 1910. The poor Queen gave a crisp, and brief speech from the throne, but the dazzling Princess of Wales snatched the limelight, as of course it was intended she should. Diana, in a tiara, is clearly heading to the top of the polls, eclipsing even the Queen Mother.

I fell into the house at 6:15 quite jaded. Ally was preparing tea, or perhaps dinner of sausages and chips.

Lord Hailsham.

I am thoroughly appalled by the BBC. I sat down to view the pageant of the state opening but got nothing other than a brief clip of HM poised upon her throne. Poor old Lord Hailsham almost fell walking backwards. You always get one. I do recall Field Marshal Viscount Montgomery collapsing at the state opening whilst holding the sword of state and was very close to impaling a teenage Princess Anne. Earl Mountbatten, God rest him, was once taken all peculiar too, if I remember correctly. 

-=-

Tuesday November 3, 1981

Cousin Pam Obermeyer.

 _. Ally is having fun and games on a morning. In recent days, in the absence of Audrey Citroen, she's been walking down to her office at the AHA, and has been befriended by a mental patient, an inmate of Lynfield Mount asylum, who now waits for her. She now spends some time hiding behind trees, and climbing over walls to avoid these dawn dalliances with this potential mad axeman, who at the moment appears inoffensive and only wants to talk about his wife and card games.

Tonight I tackled my oil painting of flowers and made some improvements but regret starting the work so high up the canvas. There's a blue expanse at the foot of the picture that I must do something with.

'Brideshead Revisited' on the TV. It's improving slightly, but Ally watched with interest.

Pam Obermeyer, the actress daughter of my Auntie 'Eddy', was the star of 'Play for Today' on the BBC. All tits, sex, and bad language, but they are very proud down in Nottingham.

-=-

Monday November 2, 1981

 _. Ally had a hard time on the phone with the blood sucking leech Broadhead at Jack Andrews. He twists everything and makes out that they are doing us a favour putting a floor back in the Citroen for £50. You know what Ally is like. Everything hits her with twice as much force as it does me, and she came off the phone close to tears. 

Home at 6. Mum and Dad came at 7 and we had drinks before dinner at 8:30. Mum brought a pack of photos of their Alessio holiday. Both looked happy and well. Dad singing the praises of Northumberland too. Why is that county ignored and almost a 'no go' region for us Yorkshire folk? People talk endlessly of the Dales and the Lakes, but why not Northumberland?

We discussed Princess Margaret who is back in the news this week. [Nigel] Dempster has completed his biography, and I am pleased to see that he has clobbered Lord Snowdon, for a change. Dempster informs us that in November, 1974 the princess took an overdose of sleeping tablets. She was suffering from depression and he says it was a cry for help, and not really a suicide attempt. Snowdon is a lecher, a womaniser. Poor Princess Margaret is the most maligned woman in the history of the world. 

Charlotte phoned. She is pregnant and expecting a baby on or around June 1, 1982. The dinner was going cold whilst this joyous news was related. Mum and Dad left at 11. Exhaustion.

-=-

Sunday November 1, 1981

 _.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.

-=-

Saturday October 31, 1981

 _.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.

-=-

Friday October 30, 1981

 _. 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.

-=-

Thursday October 29, 1981

 _. 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.

-=-

Wednesday October 28, 1981

 _. 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.

Home at 6, half drowned. Ally's wet clothes were piled in the doorway, and various items were trailed across the house. She was in a heap on the settee in one of my woolly pullovers, and nothing else. We had a fried concoction. 

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.

-=-

Tuesday October 27, 1981

 _. New Moon.

Pepys.

Why do I keep a journal? They say it's done for reasons of vanity, and so I certainly must be vain. I remember feeling such a thrill last August [1980 that is] when I returned from Ibiza to be told that Uncle Bert had stumbled upon my journal whilst staying at Pine Tops, and found it enjoyable reading. Most people would feel affronted or embarrassed to have had their journal discovered and read, but because Uncle Bert had found it interesting I felt quite the opposite. This is vanity. And of course I love wallowing in the past and what better way can one do this than by keeping a journal? I have undertaken a mathematical exercise. Selecting a typical day in July I counted all the words of the page and multiplied them by 365 and then multiplied that number by 9. It transpires that since January 1, 1973, I have have written approximately 1,235,160 words. Looking at the introduction of the Pepys Diary I see that in nine and a half years old Sam wrote approximately 1,250,000 words. I have spent nine years writing about nothing and Samuel Pepys had such great tales to tell. What have I had to offer? I repeat the same old complaints year after year, and tell the same tale of drudgery with increasing regularity.

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.

-=-

Monday October 26, 1981

 _. 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.

-=-