Saturday March 19, 1983

 Lay upon our bed until after 11. I took a bath and Ally prepared breakfast. My hair is looking good. Not a grey hair in sight. The milk person retreating down the garden path clutching £8 stood on a slug and skidded in the entrails leaving the garden path looking like the field after the Battle of Bosworth. I later went out with a spade to remove the corpse. The spring flowers are coming up, but only just. Our garden looks good in Spring, but at no other time. 

For the first time we walked from home and into town to do some shopping. Ally looked a treat in my large red pullover. The first time since autumn that I have been outside without a coat. In years gone by, when I was a robust youth, I went through winter after winter without the protection of any outer garments. We bought oddments for the bedroom and a 'get well' card for Audrey. Home for 4.

Lynn & Dave arrived from hospital looking gloomy. Audrey is on the mend but will be in hospital for three and a half months and is behaving differently, or perhaps I should say uncharicteristically. Audrey said  that S______M______ had once been found 'pissed' in his motor car, and Audrey never swears. Frances looked like a little lady in a maroon velvet dress and white tights. Ally corrects me and says it was 'plum'. They went away dumbfounded that I am quitting the YP. I phoned Mum and told her. She was shocked and seemed disapproving, but didn't say so. She was the one who was always wanting me to pack it all in, and now seems to be having doubts. Ally's mum phoned and talked about someone they know who is retiring and Ally saw this as an ideal opportunity to tell her that I am going to take redundancy. She was surprised but said that we should go out and do what we want whilst we are young. The idea that we might have a pub isn't her 'cup of tea' but says 'it is your life'. Relieved that we have told everyone.

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Friday March 18, 1983

 Up at 6:15 feeling beastly - it's my new name for her. Had a steaming bath and made breakfast for my slumbering companion. _________. Eggs, toast, &c.

Deposited Dave at his spot in the interchange. F24 actually. Wind my way to Leeds. Dull Day. Kathleen offensive. She's finding me all sorts of things to do before I go. Had a long chat with Geoff Hemingway. He is off next week and wants me to ring him when our application forms are ready to post. Jim (Rawnsley) is holding up this process. 'Before you piss off' he said 'can you find me the name of the caves where the first primative drawings were found?' Aren't they in France? Home, tired out.

Ally like the walking dead, and vicious. She is always vicious when she's tired. We ate and went off to bed reasonably early. Before crawling away I watched the thing on Channel 4 that I've been watching for four weeks. I had no idea that the French had invaded Ireland in 1798. I thought they were still in the caves daubing paint everywhere. Bisons, I think the cavemen painted bisons. To sleep serenaded by the dog at Mary's.

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Thursday March 17, 1983

 St Patrick's Day - Bank Holiday in N Ireland

I got up with Ally and saw her off on her way. I watched her at the bus stop and we waved over the traffic.  I sat with a coffee and typed a letter to Jim Rawnsley asking if I can use him as a reference. My typing woke Glynnie who came downstairs with the little hair he has left standing on end. He was bemused at my secretarial skills. We ate scrambled eggs, beans and toast. Looked at photo albums and had more coffee. We cannot decide which was the funniest Ibiza holiday. Laughed about Billy. I posted the letter to Jim and met Ally at the hospital. Raining. Went to the Travellers Rest for lunch. Scampi and beer. Phoned Lynn. Audrey is on the mend, but for some reason is irritated by Henry, accusing him of 'wittering'. Phoned Janette and asked her and John to join us this evening. I slept after dinner and missed Top of the Pops. John & Janette came at 8 and we all went to the Bod. Glynnie, drinking pints, was hilarious.Listened to music and made merry. Dave insists he isn't going bald but has had a 'Phil Collins haircut' that's gone wrong. Back to our place for more ale and music. John is throwing a retirement party in my honour on April 9. Hee! Hee!

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Wednesday March 16, 1983

 A hysteric day at the YP. Arrived to find a cheque for £25 from Derek Foster. I think I have Bob Cockroft to thank for this. I went out to Carlo & Jeffrey and had my haircut for £4.50. I was 'seen to' by a silent person strongly resembling Eartha Kitt. I am happy with it. I bought the 12' single of Michael Jackson's 'Billie Jean'. 

Back at the office I have a note tucked into my typewriter reading: 'Armageddon, April 8.' The date of my severance. Austin-Clarke phoned Kathleen whilst I was under the scissors and he asked her when I wanted to go, and she said April 8 because it was the first date that came into her head. I will be so glad to go, I have had enough of the whole business. 

At 5:30 I went to Bradford and met Dave G in the interchange. Through the drizzle to Lidget Green. Ally has bought Michael Jackson's 'Thriller'. She seldom buys records. We had a chicken and mushroom pie washed down with our own apple wine which was very acceptable. Dave was itching to go out and at 9:30 we walked up to the Fiddlers' Three for a few post-prandials. The wind was blowing like hell. We discussed pubs, bars, breweries and beer. Ally has a logical brain, and I have not. Home for cheese on toast and coffee. We watched the football. Liverpool were beaten.

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Tuesday March 15, 1983

 Ally had an egg and I didn't. Eggs can be repetitive. I feel very proud to admit that I haven't yet watched Breakfast TV. I saw Frank Bough for five seconds on the day it all started, but since then we have resisted the urge. It will never catch on. 

Today is Budget Day - a day I find chronically boring. At one time I would have found some interest in the chancellor's little shuffle with the economy but I have grown now to realise it means nothing. I object to the sight of a little fat stockbroker from 'the City' coming on the evening news to tell me that I am going to be 63p a week 'better off'. Who cares? However, one so-called pundit said with some confidence that the general election will take place on June 16, 1983. Poppycock. If Mrs Thatcher goes to the country before October then I am the Earl of Euston.

Kathleen was a bit of a pain. Getting in a state I think about the soon-to be-decrease in her work force. She says she wouldn't be surprised if Irvine Crawford was to take over the Library operations one day, after she has gone. Mike Hickling came in and asked when the 'piss-up' is to take place to celebrate my departure. Michael Brown says he might join me. He is sick of writing about church unity. He has been writing about it for ten long years, and Rome is still no nearer. Carol will be freed on March 25, and I can leave after that. Mrs Slocombe's 'Nancy Reagan-like' surgery hasn't had the desired effect and she's now more like Margaret Lockwood in The Wicked Lady, only fatter. 

I left at 12 and took a half-day. Piglet had made a stew. The newspapers are full of pictures of the Waleses with the infant prince, some in sickly technicolour. Ally thinks the lad is like his mama. They go to Australia on Friday, and if the thought of bush fires and and starving packs of singed marsupials isn't enough, they will have to contend with Mr Hawke and his revolting Labour administration. Diana will win 'em all over, though. Ally went upstairs to prepare Mr Glynn's suite and I was left twiddling my thumbs. I did have some ale bottling to do. I have chipped the enamel on the sink again. We shall have to have it seen to. Ally gloomy about this.

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Monday March 14, 1983

 Lynn phoned Mum today to say that Audrey is conscious and talking to the boys but is very quiet. She was in collison with Simon M______, son of the owner of R_____ P____. It will be something of a miracle if Mrs B recovers.

To the YP. Saw Geoff and gave him my particulars. He raised his eyebrows in amazement when I told him Jim Rawnsley is an old friend and a possible referee. He tells me that Jim is in Jullundur at the moment discussing the twinning of the Indian city with Leeds.Poor Jim. I bet he hates it. Mrs Slocombe was straining to hear what Geoff and I were discussing. Bashed on until four and left in the sunshine. Home for 5.

I phoned Glynnie this morning. He says he's probably coming her on Wednesday and leaving on Friday. I arranged to collect my pay on Wednesday,  so that I'm not financially embarrassed during the royal visit. Ally came in at 5:10 and I already had the trussed chicken rotating in the oven. The spuds were peeled, veg washed, and Yorkshire puddings mixed.

Ally sat with the newspaper reading bits to me.  The infant daughter of Lord and Lady Romsey was christened Alexandra Victoria Edwina Diana at Romsey yesterday. The Princess of Wales stood sponsor. Two years ago the prince acted in a similar fashion at the dipping of the Romseys son, Nicholas. Ah yes, Nicholas and Alexandra, no doubt named after the last Tsar and Tsarina , close relations of earl Mountbatten. The Waleses go to the antipodes on Friday - all three of them. Read in the Sunday Telegraph that Princess Alice, Duchess of Gloucester, is writing her autobiography and the first installment, in the paper, dealt with the eccentric Dukes of Buccleuch, who lived in far greater splendour than the monarch who became her father-in-law.

After our chicken feast we watched TV. Ken and Deirdre Barlow are back from Malta with a plan of action to prevent Ken becoming boring again. She ironed. I watched a Western starring Lee van Cleef.

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Sunday March 13, 1983

 Mothering Sunday

The house came to life at 8 o'clock when I was brought to my senses by the sound of Papa and Jim banging in the void beneath our bedroom floor. I had a dreadful hangover but got up and made breakfast for everyone. Mum refused to get out of bed and I served hers on a tray in her bedroom. She takes Mother's Day very seriously. Margaret quite the opposite. Sue declined a cooked breakfast and put on a coat and took Christopher for a lengthy morning walk. I went out with a pen afterwards and sketched the house for a brochure, coming in to escape the rain. The day was one of idleness. 

Family news: Uncle Bert phoned the other day to say that my cousin Reg and Maria Clarke had a son on March 4 who is to be Richard Thomas Rhodes Clarke. __________. I browsed through the Sunday Express (which took approximately seven minutes), sat by the crackling fire and drinking some hideous wine. By 2:30 the sinks in the bedroom were all plumbed in. A wine bottled exploded in the dining room making a mess of the decor. We gave Papa the photo of his parents taken circa 1940. He didn't get too emotional about it. John drove us home at 7. We were shattered. They came in for a drink but left at 8.  To bed at 9:30.

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Saturday March 12, 1983

 Disgracefully we lay amongst our crumpled bedding until after 9. Ally concocted breakfast while I threw on my clothes and went out to the little shop over the road to buy five pillows at 95p each from a confused Pakistani. Evidently the price is something of a phenomenon and Mama, who wants them for Waltergarth, cannot let this opportunity slip by. We had breakfast and then went to Bradford, that is the metropolis, to buy a chicken and oven gloves (for Mum on Mother's Day) and then came home in the choking cigarette fumes at the top op of the bus. Took a steaming hot bath and listened to Duran Duran thumping up from below.

John and Janette came at 2pm and they sat for half an hour before taking us up to Horton, and the chaos of the accumulated family. Janette has found a job from Easter selling caravans and accessories at Yeadon. ___________. We drove up to Horton with a poorly made tape of the (Rolling) Stones. Jagger seemed to be singing through his underpants. Furious activity at Horton. Dad and Jim were under the floor banging around and we didn't see them for hours. Mum sat with Margaret, Susie and Christopher, and we joined them. Christopher is a comedian and rolled around the room causing much hilarity. We dined at 6 - the grown ups at the dining table, and the children in front of the television, and afterwards we, that is Sue, Pete, John, Janette, Ally and I, went to the Station Inn at Ribble Head, where we congregated around the juke box and drank like fish. It was so good for us all to be together making merry.  Janette joked that we were celebrating John (and Maria's) wedding anniversary, which falls tomorrow. Peter grows more and more to be like John Cleese. Sue like a bean-pole, but looks well. ________. We remained 'after hours' and left at 12:30. The common-law wife of the publican, draped in chiffon, was playing billiards, looking acutely bored, and making eyes at every man in the place. Back at Waltergarth we had sausage sandwiches and a few glasses of wine before retiring. Poor John and Janette had to sleep on the settee.

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Friday March 11, 1983

 My usual egg with Ally. To the YP with our vital statistics but didn't get a chance ton see Geoff all day and so I locked them in a drawer until next week. We had a young 18 year-old German girl in the office for the day. She is related to Delius. Kathleen said: "I thought he was a Bradford chap?" I tried desperately not to mention the war but found myself talking about jews, the bombing of Coventry, Eva Braun, Klaus Barbie and the 'Butcher of Lyons' (joke). Kathleen gave me £3.55 and I walked up to Morrison's at lunchtime and bought a bottle of Liebfraumilch which we drank with cream buns in the afternoon to celebrate the final day of indexing the YP. After 110 years Kathleen has decided to axe it as part of the library cuts. Carol J was close to tears. I feel sure that she now regrets applying for redundancy but now finds the door firmly slammed behind her. Surely, 'President Carter' isn't going to keep her?

Saw a batch of 15 photos of the Prince of Wales, Pcess of Wales, & Prince William of Wales all at Highgrove to be released next Tuesday. The Daily Express says that the Prince (junior) will be flying to the 'colonies' with eighteen tons of Johnson's Baby Powder. Diana has exquisite teeth, you know.

Ally phoned Lynn ___________. I phoned Mama who says Henry is resigned to the worst and is in a dreadful state. Phoned Sue. She goes tonight to Horton. Phoned John. He is coming to us tomorrow. He seems to be out at every opportunty with Chris and Pete. Janette may be his concubine, but clearly abandoned. I told John to ring Lynn. Ally phoned Bessie. Cousin Beverley Tebby has miscarried. Hot bath. TV. Ally made some rum truffles for Mummy on Mother's Day and here I am writing this at 10:43pm. The horrid ice-skating championships are on the telly.

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Thursday March 10, 1983

 Geoff (Hemingway) approached me this afternoon and asked me to give him "within the next few weeks" a full run-down of mine and Ally's qualifications both in academic and in commerce, &c. He says he will compose a letter, on our behalf, and bombard his contacts in the brewery trade. He has really taken me under his wing. He says he has made some discreet inquiries about me, and smiling, says I am not the person out of the office that I am in it. Is he trying to say that I go berserk once freed from the quiet confines of the library? Somebody must have been filling him in.

Didn't hear any further news of Audrey Baker today and didn't phone anyone, with the exception of my wife. I phone Ally every day.

My hair is horrible. I've just been looking at it. I've seen an article in the Times about mens hair and now fancy a 'D.A. cut'. Good good, most men of my generation are now green and spiky. I left the ofice at 5:06pm and suffered because of it. Got no bus until 5:50, and didn't walk in the house until 6:50. Like a wounded puma. Ally brought me round. Avocado and prawns followed by lasagne. Cuddles, &c. Spent the evening typing our vital statistics for Geoff. Watched the ghastly 'Citadel' and to bed after 12.

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Wednesday March 9, 1983

 We were laying in bed at 7am with no particular enthusiasm until we heard the thud of the mail coming through the letter box. Ally scampered downstairs like a young lamb and came back screaming with letters from Tetley's and Sam Smith's breweries. The Tetley's application form looks best, but let's wait and see. At least this is something to go at. We had eggs and Ally's fresh bread and went our separate ways.

Phoned Mum. She had heard from Lynn. Audrey is still unconscious, supposedly sedated, and that she's on a machine to keep her lungs going. My God it sounds awful. I came back at lunchtime (to the YP) and found Geoff Hemingway whispering with Kathleen. He gave her the same treatment that he gave me yesterday, that I am too good an employee to lose. He then gave me a fiver for a tip, but I know of none. Had a chat with Steve Burnip. He's leaving in a month and wants to open a second hand book shop. Surely this redundancy caper will be the making of us folk in awful, dull jobs. Sarah says that Mrs Slocombe has told Austin-Clarke that I intended leaving anyway, with or without the redundancy money. The cow!

I sat in Park Square with a sandwich looking at the daffodils poking up through the soil. Will poor Audrey be around to see them in flower? This tragedy is such a blow. She is only 54. Phoned Ally. Not in a joyful mood. The hideous Derek is getting her down.

At home I was very positive and took up the phone and dialled five or six local pubs to ask about bar work. The landlord at the Oddfellows was the most interested and took down my particulars, and said he'd ring me when a vacancy occurs. The others were disinterested and very brief. We ate a very odd meal tonight. Veg soup, potatoes (baked), melted cheese, cold rice pudding from yesterday, and orange squash to drink. On Channel 4 Peter Bogdanov(ich) was talking about Shakespeare's 'Measure for Measure'.

At 7:15 I phoned poor David B who sounded shattered. He explained his mother's injuries, which are terrible. Her liver was 'cut in half' on impact, and that she will be unconscious until the weekend or even afterwards. She recognised Dave and Henry yesterday and squeezed their hands and moved her eyes in response to their questions. The internal bleeding has been stopped, but they must be prepared for a long wait. I offered our sympathy to him. He seemed utterly desolate. We watched TV and sat in solemn reflection. Dallas, the news, bed.

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