Friday December 10, 1982

 YP: Prince William of Wales is to accompany his parents on their Commonwealth tour next Spring against my expectations. I think perhaps he should stay here, but it must be heart-rending to part with children for weeks on end. The Press say it's Diana putting her foot down, but the Prince of Wales is a great softy, I bet.

To Rawdon at 5:30 for a session with the dentist. I need a couple of fillings, which he'll do next month. Whilst waiting to go in I sat looking at tropical fish in a large tank. Very theraputic.

Home at 6:30. Ally has a spiffing repast laid out on my arrival. Roast pork, apple sauce, roast potatoes, Yorkshire puddings, &c. Exquisite. Flickering candles too. 

Phoned Sue at 9. She had spent the whole day in hospital with Christopher who had his tongue clipped underneath. I had mine done at six weeks but the doctor did it with a pair of scissors in his surgery. This runs in the family. 

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Thursday December 9, 1982

 Cold. A thin layer of snow. Pay day. Made my usual pilgrimage into town. The ring I've spotted for Ally is still in the window at Denton's. I must go and put down a deposit - sod the expense. Spent £3 on a Christmas card for Ally and three sheets of wrapping paper. The picture on the front of the card is of a burning log fire in a 3-D form which looks as though it's burning. How romantic.

We sat this evening (after baths) with a pre-prandial drink. David and Jean Watts came at 8 and took us to Haworth for a pizza. Didn't bump into Emily Bronte, but in true tradition it rained. Haworth is always wet. A reasonable meal, but Ally's corn on the cob was cold, and my pizza was lacking in cheese. Surprisingly, David footed the bill when it should have been me, and would take no money. We moved on to a pub where I got us all a drink. Discuss photography. Back to the Watts pile at Wilsden, where we had mead and a coffee. David reminds me of Ian Appleyard. He drove us home after 12. A very pleasant evening.

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Wednesday December 8, 1982

 Cold. Phoned Sue who was cheerful and pleased to be at home. It's Christopher's turn next. He's having his tongue snipped on Friday.

To Guiseley for a nostalgic evening at Pine Tops with Mum and Dad. Our last visit. Packing cases everywhere. We sat and watched 'Minder'. Dad drove us home after 12. We took their house plants. No great sadness, but not a dry eye in the place.

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Tuesday December 7, 1982

 Lashing rain. To the YP after boiled eggs. Photos of Lanzarote arrived in the post and we sat over breakfast looking at pictures of camels and PC (Sheila's tiny dog). PC is short for Pipe Cleaner.

Sarah hated the course upstairs. She had to endure hour after hour of Austin-Clarke droning on and on. He explained to her, and to anybody else who listened, how he arrived at the YP in 1966 in the nick of time to save the ailing company. Sarah brough an old pine towel stand into the office and I fell for it for £20. She's in no hurry for the money. It will form part of Ally's Christmas present.

Lord James Crichton-Stuart, who was first married to the current Begum Aga Khan, has died. She's a bit of all right is the Begum.

Went looking at rings for Ally at lunch. Saw a pretty one for £36. 

Thought about Sue all day, but can do nothing. She's having some sort of procedure. Mum phoned at 7 to say Sue is satisfactory, and back on the ward, but was awaiting a full report from Peter. Mum added that Christopher has enjoyed helping them pack today. 'It gave him something to do'. He isn't even one year-old. He isn't 16. 

John slept at Victoria Road last night. I bet he hasn't told them about Janette.

Didn't get home until 6:15. Carrying a pine towel stand onto public transport was interesting. I hid it from Ally, who was wide-eyed with curiosity.

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Monday December 6, 1982

 Up late. Not enthusiastic. Miserable journey to the YP. My 72 (bus) didn't materialize. Found Margo looking peeved. Carol is off with a cold and Sarah is upstairs in personnel being brainwashed. Kathleen is of course Christmas shopping.

Busy day. From the diary pages of the tabloids I see that no royals turned out for the wedding at the weekend of Georgina Butter, kinswoman of Prince Philip, and cousin of Sacha Abercorn and Natalia Westminster. The Daily Express reveals that Lady Romsey has given birth to a daughter. I didn't know that the lady was pregnant. I must be losing my touch.

Phoned Auntie Mabel. We are going on Tuesday. Phoned Mum. Dad pranged the Toyota in the ice this morning, an accident which has signed the car's death warrant. He wasn't hurt. 

This evening Bessie was on the phone - the christening saga again. She is getting in a state about it. Phoned Susie and wished her all the best for the op tomorrow. Spoke to Mum too. Pine Tops is upside down and she's seriously thinking about phoning the Samaritans. She's going through all her possessions and becoming nostalgic.  We are going on Wednesday to say farewell to the old place. Lynn had a dizzy turn on Saturday night. Dad is doing too much, &c. Life here in Bradford is so tranquil in comparison. Dave L phoned and I told him about John's flat warming party. He is a fool.

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Sunday December 5, 1982

 2nd Sunday in Advent

Brothers: John & Lawrence

Slept until noon. Our Lanzarote photos arrived yesterday and we took them to Guiseley. Mum commented that Uncle John looks older than Dad. Wrong. 

I laid the floor covering here in the kitchen. I almost called it lino, but that would be wrong. There was a 3-D film on the BBC but we don't have the specs to view it and so the picture was blurred. We had lamb again. 

Look at Harold Nicolson's diary. Such a mixed up little man. I must read Nigel Nicolson's book about the marriage of Harold N and Vita Sackville-West.

We went to bed at 9:30 to avoid Esther Rantzen.

Saturday December 4, 1982

 Crumpets in bed with lashings of tea. To town afterwards to pay our carpet installment, and to buy a few Christmas presents. Got John and Sheila an Aynsley vase. Other odds and ends. Back home at 2:30 to find a van outside and Papa and John in the house. John had slipped his hand into the letter box and unlocked the door. We really must make sure we lock up properly. 

John drove us to Guiseley, almost piling the car up on route. He can be a very worrying driver. Move furniture from Pine Tops to Victoria Road, where John has found a large flat. Dave B was sulking because his removal date has been put back a week. He was positively furious. 

John drove me to Horsforth to collect his velvet curtains. He told me that Lynne Mather has become engaged to her boss, who has two homes here and one in New Zealand. Good for her. Chris Ratcliffe is going out with Judith Lea, and Christine Braithwaite is back in Yorkshire. 

Had a Chinese take-away with Mum and Dad. Frances is an angel but screams the place down at the first mention of bed. Lynn's health visitor says there's something wrong with the child because she hasn't walked yet.

John, itching for a drink, took us to the White Cross, the Woolpack and the Dog and Gun. Home later for drinks and a Lon Chaney film. John offered us the use of his car for Yuletide. We couldn't possibly accept. Janette is coming to Yorkshire for the festivities. That will certainly put the cat amongst the pigeons. He hinted also that Dad is going to give us the Toyota. Ally wouldn't take it.

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Friday December 3, 1982

Fresh bread for breakfast and then out into the cold.  YP. Nothing thrilling.

News: Labour won another by-election. Well, they didn't win it, they held it. 

Sarah is back. The decorating must have reached a happy conclusion. I did nothing this afternoon and skulked around the office like a rat.

Tonight Ally sat and wrote me a wonderful letter addressed to Santa Claus setting out her demands. I roared with laughter. She wants an Afghan (a dog of course, and not one of the sweaty rebellious humans). She'd call him Clarence.

Glynnie phoned to talk about Tenerife. He sounds to have had an excellent time on the bottle. He met up with a pack of landlords from Bristol, or somewhere.

To bed very early.

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Thursday December 2, 1982

 Cold, frosty morn. Have I mentioned Auntie Mabel? She phoned the other day and invited us to lunch on Dec 12. It is the day after Lazenby's (party) and so today I phoned her to cancel. We'll go some other time, obviously before Christmas.

Sarah still off. Must be having trouble with her wallpaper paste. YP abysmal. Kathleen cannot grasp why we want a day off in lieu for Christmas day. She says Christmas day falls on a Saturday, and we do not ususally work on a Saturday, so why are we entitled to a day in lieu? Silly cow. 1983 is going to have to be bye bye YP. I'm going to become a rock star, a leading author, or just a simple sex symbol. Ally's a little sex symbol already.

Out at lunchtime and purchased Molly Keane'sbook for Ally, which I stumbled upon quite accidentally in Austick's. Put £3 in our building society account. I'm hoping to buy a derelict Georgian vicarage with a minimum of 20 rooms. Club Street is all very well but one must expand.

Tony Benn has been shouting his mouth off about the Royal Family. He's unhappy with the Regency Act and says that should Prince William be jetitsoned onto the throne before he is 18 by the premature deaths of the Queen and Prince of Wales, then he will be quite unfit to reign, and that a Labour government would have no dealings with Prince Andrew as regent.

Ally had fish and chips waiting when I arrived home. Bliss.

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Wednesday December 1, 1982

Charlie Cairoli.

Ally better but not 100 per cent. Because of this christening business we may have to hire a car. The thought of public transport all the way to Winchester just isn't our style. Car hire people are such robbing bastards though. To the YP with a red spot on the end of my nose reminiscent of the late Charlie Cairoli. 

YP poor. Sarah still off. She must be having trouble with her plumb line. The Queen Mother is back in circulation after her op. We'd be a dull nation without her. Spoke to mother. She says Pine Tops looks like 'Steptoe's yard' and is upside down. John's things are everywhere too, and they are living out of packing cases. Very sad. Twelve years in one spot is a long time for Mum and Dad.

Home cold. Eat like a wolf. We are both sick of the drudgery of work. What is the point of it all? Working for the money to keep a house which we rarely see because we are always working. It's an odd sort of world.

Coronation Street: Stan Ogden cannot go on much longer.

At the earliest opportunity we go up to bed and read. Harold Nicolson at war. Lights out by 12.

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Tuesday November 30, 1982

 St Andrew's Day

Brighter, but bitterly cold. Ally is feeling weak ____________. She wrapped me up in a scarf and packed me off to the YP. The days are gone when I could often be seen walking around in shirt sleeves well into January.

Diana: unhappy

Sarah is off. 'Pneumogettingthekitchendecorateditis'. We all do it though.

(Nigel) Dempster says (for the first time, I think) that the marriage of the Prince and Princess of Wales is unhappy. She (Diana) doesn't share Charles's love of the great outdoors, and Nigel insists that 'sources close to the Royal Family' worry about the amount of leisure time they spend apart. We'll have twenty years of divorce rumours now. Poor souls, they'll never be left in peace.

News: The oldest peer Lord Rathcavan has died aged 99. The next in line for 'oldest peer' is Lord Citrine, who led the TUC at the time of the General Strike. Next after him is Fenner Brockway, the old fool. Vote Labour, Live Longer. Perhaps the next Labour party political broadcast could show Michael Foot surrounded by lefty centenarians. It would work wonders.

Still no reply from Guiseley. Are they still at Ruby's? Seems odd.

Bessie phoned us by mistake thinking she was ringing Graham. They are going to fix the time of Matthew's christening around our travelling arrangements. Gill phoned too. Matthew is over 9lbs. She thought Lanzarote was nothing more than a volcano. 

Went up to bed at 9:30. (I got in the bath and Ally got into bed).

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