Wednesday February 23, 1983

 We received a letter from the nasty Mr Sutcliffe declining our offer of employment. It is his misfortune, not ours. Ally came home at lunchtime and found the letter on the door mat. She phoned me at the office and asked me not to be disappointed. She is a brick. She spent the afternoon ringing round other breweries. Tetley's, Whitbread, &c.

At home we tried not to be depressed. The crisis between Deirdre and Ken on Coronation Street has come to a head. Not a dry eye in the nation, I shouldn't wonder. Mike Baldwin was sent packing.

At 8 I phoned Stockport and spoke to Glynnie. We haven't seen him since October. I told him of our brewery aspirations and he was dumbfounded. We are going over on March 5.

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Tuesday February 22, 1983

 Busy Spring-like morn. Splashing in the bath I told Ally that we should go to Colne to pick the brains of her aged aunts for stories of her lineage. Auntie Annie must be a hive of information.

Anther breakfast waiting for the post, which didn't materialise before our departure.

Steve O'Connor's secretary dashed down the garden path and and posted his specification for our new roof. £850 for the lot and that's going cheap.

The bus was flooded with light and I scowled all the way to Leeds. YP its usual cheerful self. I was honoured to be received in audience by Mr W.J. Austin-Clarke this afternoon and he told me details of my severance payment. He was sat peeping over his desk like a garden gnome with tiny black eyes, like buttons. I would receive £4,782. No golden handshake by any means, but not to be sneezed at. It was the only time I have spoken to Mr A-C since my interview in 1973.

Ally made omelette and salad and we sat talking about redundancy and pubs. We are held in agonising suspense and everything is in the hands of Mr Sutcliffe at Viking Taverns.

News: Her Majesty is going to have to do something about the Press. The Sun newspaper has been prevented by the High Court from publishing something this morning - the so called confessions of a palace servant. Todays article was to be 'What Di said to me about her strapless dress'. _________.

Ally sat on the floor going through her old cheque books stubs settling our accounts and working out just what we don't have. She's seen a few nice things in 'Cheap 'n Cheerful' and wants to know how much we have in our large whisky bottle. On the last count in September we had £40.

An evening of tranquil repose. Married life is perfect. It could really catch on if only people tried it. Read Pepys and adjourned to bed.

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Monday February 21, 1983

 Washington's Birthday Observance

I object to see 'Washington's Birthday Observance' printed here on this page. There is no page headed 'Queen Victoria's Birthday Observance', and if you expect to see 'Horatio, Lord Nelson's Birthday Observance' then you can forget it. The publishers of WH Smith desk diaries sucking up to the Yanks.

Ally leapt into the bath and I lingered in bed. She was yelling abuse in the direction of the little _____ postman as he passed us by without depositing any mail in our box. We giggled, kissed goodbye and parted for 10 hours. Ugh.

At the YP Margo informed me that Carol is engaged to the President Carter look-alike ....

to be coninued.

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Sunday February 20, 1983

 1st Sunday in Lent

A day of industry. We got up reasonably early again. Ate great chunks of Ally's bread. I set about my brewing and filled twenty large bottles with ale, and then sat down to coffee and cake and we watched Peter Sellers and Irene Handl in 'Heavens Above'. Crufts afterwards. Welsh corgis leaping through hoops and picking up the correct handkerchief, &c. Football afterwards and I sat through that but took down from my bookcase the abridged Pepys and read 1660-1663 - very pleasurable. I have a great desire to obtain the Matthews/Latham diary in nine volumes at £12 each. One day, Michael. Ally has been cleaning and smells like a SRN (I blame the disinfectant). We had a Sunday feast. Yorkshire puddings, brisket, cauliflower cheese, parnsips, new potatoes (Egyptian) and carrots. A splendid repast.  

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Saturday February 19, 1983

 Our alarm sounded at 8 o'clock, a disgusting hour for a Saturday. We lay grousing at each other for half an hour before heading out to town where we got a bus to Shipley for Ally to visit her dentist for a check-up. He gave her a clean costing £3.50. On to the market and we returned home at 12 with bags of vegetables and meat. We ate bacon and eggs.

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Friday February 18, 1983

 Ally was bounding around waiting for the postman but he brought nothing from Viking Taverns. She does resemble her Auntie Annie, over in Colne.

At the YP a ghastly day. Kathleen and Sarah stood around loudly discussing the alterations to the working day that will be put into place when Carol and I are gone. ________. Mr Lawler is to see us all individually to tell us what we are due.

Home in the daylight. I sat downstairs on the omnibus to avoid inhaling tobcco smoke. The upper deck often resembles an Australian bush fire. We had lasagne and rosé wine. Ally was sneezing and pale and went up to bed with 'Cold Comfort Farm', but ten minutes later she was tucked up with no intention of reading. 

I watched the news. Her Majesty has arrived in Acapulco, Mexico. A little Scotsman is celebrating in the water workers pay dispute.

One of the Sunday papers contained a fun tale. The Queen Mother dislikes President Jimmy Carter because he is, she says, the only man to have kissed her on the lips since the death of her dear husband. The affrontery. Unlike most people I don't have the opportunity to look at the Sunday papers until Friday.

I watched Dorothy Tutin in a play on BBC2. I phoned Mum. Her new cooker is in. A man from the quarry stayed at Waltergarth last night but declined the full-English breakfast. Historic. He was their first paying guest. Auntie Eleanor's house is up for sale. Where can she be going? An artist at Horton is to paint Waltergarth. She sounded like an excited young girl. The move has been great for them. I slumbered in a chair and woke at 11:50.

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Thursday February 17, 1983

 I stood at the window watching Ally at her bus stop. She couldn't wave because she was standing next to a funny man with a beard. 

I went to the YP and told Kathleen I want to see the financial director to see how much severance pay I am due. Carol had been yesterday to get her claim in first. Up with the chief K hears that they will take two volunteers from the library. Poor Sarah was glum all day. A festive air hung over the editorial floor. Everyone wants to go. People all over the office are talking about buying 'a guest house in Kendal'. The EP feature writers are considering buying a fish and chip shop. Sadly, the newspapers to wrap them in will be scarce.

Derek (Jenkins) hasn't discussed Ally's day off. He is no doubt keeping it for another day. He does like to spring things on her. Ally looked washed out. We talked about redundancy. The thing with me is that I've had such a dull ten years and have taken no risks since packing in school at 18. Take the money and run is my feeling on this, and I want so much to run. Come on Mr Sutcliffe, give us a job!

Two certificates have arrived. Ruth Allen Upton, my grandmother, was born at 11, Green Wall, Lewes, Sussex, on September 3, 1900. We, and she, always celebrated her birthday on August 31. _______. She was registered on Oct 16 1900. Dad had a fit. For 48 years he has been celebrating his mum's birthday on the wrong day. The other certificate is the marriage of my great-grandparents John Wilson and Rella Fawbert at Calverley Parish Church on May 2, 1874. The marriage was witnessed by John William Patchett, who on the census is the son of Edward Fawbert, and thus Rella's half brother. Robert Rendell was the other witness to the marriage. 

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Wednesday February 16, 1983

 We got up at 6:30 with no feelings of trepidation and only a mood of confidence can be said to have dominated the breakfast of eggs and toast. It is Ally's idea to go to Hipperholme ridiculously early in case anything untoward should befall the bus driver en route and make us late for the interview. We went out at 8:15 looking suitably 'interviewish'. We sped to Hipperholme on bus so dirty it was impossible to see out of the windows. An amiable bus driver put us off at the correct stop. It was 9:20, bitterly cold, and an hour and ten minutes early. Unlike most sane people who would, in a situation like this, have gone and found a cafe and have a cup of tea, we stood in an open bus shelter full of broken bottles, and covered in graffiti proclaiming 'Huddersfield Town is Shit' &c. Into the Viking Taverns building at 10. Mr Sutcliffe made himself known to us and offered us coffee. At 10:30 we went downstairs to a cavern (like a pub without a bar) and were joined by four other couples of similar appearance to us, all mid-20s. Ally took an immediate dislike to Mr Sutcliffe, but I failed to see why. He was only trying to make us feel at ease. We were all subjected to a maths test. "If a man gives you a £10 note for £3.75 worth of drink, how much change do you give him?" That sort of thing. Then we had to answer 187 questions on personality. i.e. "If your next door neighbour squashed your cat with his Aston Martin would you a). weep, b). get another cat, c).let his tyres down. I enjoyed that bit though Mr Sutcliffe seemed to think we'd find it disturbing. At 12 we went up to the Hare and Hounds (a Viking Tavern) to await a second personal interview. We went in at 2:30. It was a quick ten minutes and he barely touched on anything. Ally found it most disturbing. If successful we would start as trainees on £7,800, a joint salary, and says we could have our own pub within a year. It could mean going to Sale, Cheshire, as relief managers, &c. We'll hear within two weeks. We left in the cold and drizzle and got a bus to Halifax and then a bus to Bradford via Shelf. I could take redundancy next week and find myself in a new job the week after. In at 4:30. Early to bed.

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Tuesday February 15, 1983

 Gloom at the YP. We went before Gerry Holbrook, the managing director, who told us he wants 200 redundancies before August 31. I have a feeling I'd like the redundancy money which could be as much as £4,000.

At home Ally set me some sums and gave all the house plants a drink. We've ignored them since Christmas.

Some Ghastly animal rights people have sent letter bombs to the Ministry of Agriculture and others. This 'save the fur and feather brigade' really annoy me. We ate the straying liver tonight. It didn't seem to be any the worse for its over night stay at the Bradford Area Health Authority. Apparently a cleaning lady chased her down the street with the offending offal.

Glynnie phoned. He never changes.Andrew is 19 today. We sent him a fiver. Saw part 2 of 'Masada'.

Bed at 11 with no qualms about tomorrow.

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Monday February 14, 1983

 Valentine's Day

(Sickly Valentine slushy stuff)

We arrived home from our daily labours to discover a calamity. Ally had left a pack of lamb's liver on her desk at Chestnut House and subsequently our evening fayre was severely compromised. Fish and chips from over the road proved conciliatory. Ally knows that with fish and chips I am easily appeased. No need to go to ACAS. We watched the news and Peter O'Toole in something called 'Masada'. A good old Roman epic. Ally disappeared to bed at 9:20 and I went up to join her after a few more crucifixions.

Her Majesty has gone off to Jamaica, the Cayman Islands, USA, &c. Some of our Caribbean friends, it seems, would like independence from the Crown, but the sight of the flag waving natives doesn't seem to verify this.

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Sunday February 13, 1983

 Quinquagesima.  New Moon.

We woke up at 8:30 to the sound of a full blooded party going on. Lynn and Dave went off home. The queue for bacon sandwiches looked like something from the Warsaw Ghetto. All the overnight guests seemed to leave in a hurry. Poor Auntie Mabel had slept in an armchair and Mum had shared a bed with the pregnant Karen. Mum and Dad looked after the babies and we head to the Crown for lunch with Jim and Margaret. John and Janette followed but sat in the other bar. The chicken was greasy and cold. We signed Mum's visitors book at 3 and departed for Bradford - all listless and sombre. We left Mum and Dad by a roaring fire. As soon as we were in it was straight to bed.

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