Wednesday April 20, 1983

 A bright and sunny morning. Up at 7 and made Ally her egg. Switched on the TV and listened to Selina Scott. TV-am have sacked everyone. Took my daily stroll to the newsagents and returned home and washed all the windows. Mum phoned to say they are to call in on me today. They're doing Lynn and Sue this afternoon and dining later with John and Janette. _________. They arrived at 12 looking fit and well. Business hasn't been too good since Easter but they have a few bookings for Saturday because it's the Three Peaks Run. We had a few drinks together. Dad wants to buy my 'Oude Vinck at Lynden' oil painting and I smiled bashfully. Inspired by praise from Mum and Dad I took up a blank canvas and painted a snow scene copied from Paul Signac's 'Boulevard de Clichy, Paris'. Very successful. Ally was home at 5 and we had chicken curry, and felt hungry afterwards. ____. 'Dallas' was gripping. Sue Ellen found JR in bed with Holly and took to the bottle and crashed her car. What makes matters worse is that she had Lucy's lover Mick with her in the car at the time. Ate scones and jam. Bed at 9:20.

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Tuesday April 19, 1983

 Rain all day and an unwelcome chill. Ally went off into the grey and we watched each other until the green  bus carried her away. I took up my paint brush and daubed with my picture but stopped after two hours to let the thing dry. Oils can be messy. I sat afterwards reading 'The Three Musketeers' and drinking coffee. I ironed some sheets and pulled the carcas of yesterday's bird to bits and made a chick soup. Ally was home at 5:20 looking damp and we went straight out and to the Richard Dunn Sports Centre where we swam around for 45 minutes. I think we did 20 lengths of the pool but it's an odd shape with an island in the centre from which noisy children insist on diving and distrupting our calm. We climbed out feeling suitably exercised. Acheing limbs. Didn't get home until 8. Both cold and hungry. Chicken and dumpling stew. Watched  the fabulous 'Minder' with Cole and Waterman - a genius combination. Took to our beds after 10. Lay with our books. I am gripped with the excitement of D'Artagnan's quest for Anne of Austria's diamonds. The book is something which all eleven year olds have mastered and I feel guilty reading it now at the onset of my fortieth decade.

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Monday April 18, 1983

 The alarm sounded off at 6:54 and was too loud and it threw Ally into an Adolf Hitler mood and she lay seething in bed yelling naughty words at her long suffering husband who was downstairs preparing her breakfast. She eventually came down at 7:30 feeling better but was still dangerous. I went to clamour for a Daily Telegraph and the newsagent reported to me that sales of the YP have 'gone stone dead'. I wonder why? Ally went off looking like something that would be safer in a zoo and I was left alone for the day.

At 9:45 I went to the employment exchange and queued with the unemployed Bradford lads. Does anybody actually work in Bradford? I was handed a slip of paper commanding me to report again on May 16. I asked no questions and took a brisk walk back to Lidget Green where I decided to take up my oil painting. I played with a still life which I started in September 1981, and made a start on a copy of 'the Oude Vinck Restaurant in Lynden' by Max Liebermann (1847-1935), the only German impressionist of note. I am obsessed with the colour green. When I next looked at the clock it was 3pm and I rushed around baking bread and trussing a chicken. Ally was in at 5 in a much better mood. I chastised her for going out in such a mood. We watched Coronation Street. Mike Baldwin wants to open a discotheque in Rosamund Street and the Barlows are campaigning to oppose the scheme. The Barlows are so boring and miserable. Mavis and Victor are back from camping in the Lake District. Saw the royal tour on the news. Bed at 9:20.

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Sunday April 17, 1983

 2nd Sunday after Easter

Sunshine. We stayed in bed until 11. I was first to regain consciousness and crept away to make lashings of tea. We sat amidst the quilt talking about last night. I looked in my '73 diary. I first met Marita on Aug 25, 1973 when we went to Cinderella's. I spent £2.50 - an enormous sum a decade ago. We howled with laughter. Ally wallowed in her tub and I played a Michael Jackson LP so loud that he his dulcet tones reach up to the bathroom. At 2 we went out for a bus and made several good connections and arrived in Guiseley at 2:30. It was a toss up to see who we might visit first and decided upon Lynn & David.  We went to Thorpefields but found them in the middle of a furious argument about visiting Audrey and a DIY centre. We took Frances into the sitting room whilst they yelled away at each other on the stairs. It, the argument, was resolved, and they decided it was too late to visit Audrey and so we all went into the garden and sat around the garden shed like gnomes. Lynn is a fresh air fiend. Sue, Pete and Christopher arrived and it became a real family pow wow. Christopher chased the terrified Frances around the garden pushing her into the vegetable patch and pulling her hair. He is a terror. I took numerous photographs of the clan at play. Katie was reclining in her pram surounded by flapping white nappies on the washing line. The pram like a yacht in full sail coming into harbour. Like a scene from the 'Onedin Line'  - but bigger. David is a serious little soul. He took up a spade to dig the garden and Lynn suggested I joined him which I did for five minutes. Poor etiquette. Asking a guest to help dig is surely not on? Sue and Pete left and we went insidfe to escape the chill. Watched news of the royal tour on TV and joined the Bakers for Cornish pasties and beans. Frances, a little love, sat in her high chair digging at the dry food. Katie wheezed on the floor. Lynn says the poor thing has had a constant cold since she was born. Later David disappeared upstairs to draw and we had a couple of drinks with Lynn before returning home at 8. I was in short sleeves and felt 'parky'. Back at Clube St before 9. Bed at 10. Lynn leads a lonely life with David, who is increasingly buried in work. He's such a quiet little person too.

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Saturday April 16, 1983

 We attempted to stay late in bed but we had our sleep broken by the numerous canine friends now in residence on Club Street. The dog at number 20 seems to like the sound of his own voice. A pair of incredibly brief swimming trunks came in the post and I slipped them on and paraded around the bedroom like a Greek slave boy. We thought that today we'd go swimming, but decided against it. Screaming kids  tend to take to the water at weekends. I hung a few pictures and busied myself. 

Phoned Sue but she wasn't in. Phoned Lynn but she went after a few seconds because she was in the midst of changing Katie. Chris and Julie (Baker) moved to Fieldhead last week. Dave L phoned to remind us that we arranged to see MM and Marita tonight. It's all foggy and vague to me. We are going to the Old Ball (Horsforth) for 8:30. Dave seemed dull or put out by something again. It must be hard for him living back with his parents. How the hell will we get to Horsforth? Ally seems to think it will be an adventure.

Eat greasy breast of sheep, then watched a ridiculous old film followed by the Badminton Horse Trials. Not so much as a glimpse of the sovereign in sun glasses and headscarf, which was a disappointment. I explained to Ally who the Duke of Beaufort is. She was confused, but probably not concentrating on the detail of my vast peerage knowledge. On the news saw the Waleses 'down under'. The princess was in a stunning off the shoulder evening dress looking like a film star from the 1950s. Watched them fly off to New Zealand with Prince William . The nanny looked tanned. Gone are the days when nanny was pale, fat and vicious.

Up to the bathroom at 6. Ally on the loo. I blame the lamb. Too fatty by far. We went out at 7:15 and spent two hours on the road and staggered into the Old Ball at 9:15 looking like a couple from the old coaching days. We sat with MM, Marita and Dave talking about car insurance and Denise's house on Oxford Rd. We drank sparingly and at 10:30 went back to the Matthews residence, a substantial semi on Rawdon Rd, where the sitting room is decorated like something from Homes & Gardens. Marita has installed a fine marble fireplace which she found in a junk shop for £70. We had supper and wine and a pleasant few hours. Reminiscing, but not too much. Poor Ally must be bored senseless lsitening to us banging on about the far off days of '73. Dave brought us home at 1. He stopped at Caesar's on Manningham Lane to buy tickets for Bauhaus. We went to our beds and lay awake until after 3. It was very warm and neither of us felt like sleeping. We are having them for dinner on May 7.

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Friday April 15, 1983

 Feel groggy. We both do. I think we might be getting too much sleep. The usual boiled eggs but no breakfast TV. Ally went off very cheerful. She dosen't mind working now that she's the sole bread winner. It's put some purpose back into her life. I baked a loaf of bread and made two lots of beer and then splashed in the bath - cold water. Lay watching a fly on the ceiling. It must be the first one of the year. Perhaps I should write a letter to The Times about it. 

Walked to see Ally on Duckworth Lane and 12 but we were indecisive. The funds stand at £6 so we couldn't go wild in a pub, but after trudging around the Co-op we decided upon a quick glass of ale in the Traveller's Rest. Ken Ineson was in and Ally gave him a sheepish grin. We sat in the dark by the juke box for half an hour to cool down. I took my leave of her at 1 and went into town to spend the last £6 in the market on chicken, fish and vegetables and arrived home at 2. 

Sarah phoned with the cheerful news that I have a weeks wages to collect, my week in hand. I would have thought that this sum might be included in the severance pay, but no. We joked about (Judge) Christmas Humphreys, QC, who has died. When the old boy was retiring, about 5 years ago, the Daily Telegraph announced the fact every day for about three weeks. It became something of a joke. She added that my plants (chiefly spider plants) are missing me because I was the only one who watered them.

Ally phoned. The council have approved the grant for our new roof. We only have to put £85 towards the cost - £800 or so - which Steve O'Connor had estimated. Ally is beaming about this. I do enjoy seeing her beam,  _______. I feel as though I am not doing enough (to secure another career) yet I have written to breweries and can only wait. If all this fails I think we'll sell up and go abroad and sod everyone and everything. We pass this way but once. I am a gloomy sod, aren't I?

Ally was back with me for 5 and we feast. Talking about the weekend she says Dave L was offended at not being asked to Denise & Tony's wedding disco. I agree really, and feel the same. Denise came to our wedding and we have known each other for over ten years. Dave didn't even know that Denise was getting married until last Saturday when it was all over. We sat long into the darkness and didn't put on any lights. Reading The Three Musketeers. We retired at 10.

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Thursday April 14, 1983

 We didn't want to get out of bed but finally did at 7:20. I have a retirement card on the doormat from Stephanie Ferguson which is thoughtful of her. When she leaves in June she is to have a marquee on her lawn at Leathley. She missed the party on Saturday because she went to the Grand National and was late back. I performed my morning ritual of hunting the elusive Daily Telegraph. I said goodbye to Ally who was standing at her bus stop with the bespectacled gent who plasters broken bones at the BRI. I arrived home to hear banging and much activity next door and went out to find Sammy (Greenwood) and the man from the corner shop battering at the Mrs Greenwood's door. I supplied a hammer and a policeman joined us. Mrs Greenwood was in a heap behind the door and the heat in her house was unbearable. The poor old girl had been there since 4:30pm yesterday when she went to the door to collect her evening newspaper and had been laid out waiting for help for 17 hours. Her kettle had boiled dry and her gas fire was throwing out tremendous heat. She was lucky not have burned the house down. It's dreadful to think she was spending the night in such a state just behind the wall from us. Poor old girl. She really is too old to live alone. Sammy, clutching his chest after they took her away in an ambulance. It hasn't helped his angina. The street buzzed with excitement. Old ladies love an ambulance, don't they? I sat and wrote two letters. One to Whitbread's and ther other to John & Sheila just to tell them of our changed circumstances. I baked a Victoria sandwich cake and put butter icing through the middle and icing on top. I am never out of the kitchen. Ally phoned and asked me to make a lasagne, which I did without question. She came in at 5 and we ate heartily. Afterwards, I spied a fat, red faced man marching into Club St followed by a pack of ladies. He was wearing a prominent red rosette and we immediately presumed that he is the ghastly municipal Labour candidate. He was knocking on every door bold as brass. Without further ado we ran upstairs and lay giggling on the bed until they went away. But first he stuffed some Labour propaganda through the door. Reading it I see that the Labour party is planning to create Heaven on earth. Club Street must be red, we decided, because Fat Man was received like Alexander the Great by all the old ladies, who littered his path with garlands and showered him and his entourage with all manner of affections. To bed early, well 9:30. Ally is done in.

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Wednesday April 13, 1983

 New Moon

Up with Pig. TV and toast. They didn't show anything of the royal visit to Australia, which was why we switched on. I accompanied Ally to the bus stop and kissed her goodbye. She dislikes public acts of affection. I bought a Daily Telegraph and sent a couple of forthcoming marriage tips to Bob Cockcroft. Edward Lambton, heir to the disclaimed Earl of Durham, is engaged to Christabel McEwen, and Elizabeth Howard-Vyse, daughter of a general from Malton, is engaged to a clergyman. I phoned the YP and got through to Bob at 3 o'clock. He'd already seen them, but put me down for the Lambton one.

I baked a loaf of bread and then marched off out at 11:30 to join Ally. We went along to the building society on Duckworth Lane and invested £4,800 in an interest account which will grow by £30 a month. We fought off the desire to go sit in a pub and went to the Co-op. Kissing in the street again, and I departed at 1, and I watched her toddling off into the hospital grounds.

At home I prepared dinner. Cottage pie with peppers, onions, &c. Doing more work at home than I ever did at the YP. Susie phoned and we discussed Christopher's private parts. She was cheerful. They are buying a house, definitely, at Moorland Crescent, Menston. It overlooks High Royds Hospital, so it will be easy for her just to walk across and admit herself once she finally cracks up. I told her I was about to do some ironing and she asked: 'what exactly does that do?' She says she always wear crinkly, creased underwear. Ally came home early and caught me with the vacuum cleaner. We'd eaten and cleared everything away for 6pm. 

Dave G phoned, I may go over for the day on April 22. We watched 'Dallas' and went to bed after the news. I am fed up with talk about the next (general) election. I hope it will be in May 1984. You can go to the country too early. Look at Ted Heath in '74? I am reading 'The Three Musketeers'. At previous attempts I have never succeeded in passing the first chapter.

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Tuesday April 12, 1983

 Up at 7 o'clock. A cold, but sunny day. Ally walked to Chestnut House at 8, and I have a terrible feeling when she has gone. ________. Out to see my jovial newsagent again and bought a Daily Telegraph. No scandal. Viscountess Bridgeman has had a son. She's a Turton from Whitby (landed gentry). 

Went out at 11 to town an appointment with the bronchil lady, who wants my P60 and national insurance number. I have to go back on Monday at 9:45 and report to bay 'C'. I wandered off whistling, and to HMV to look at the Spandau Ballet LP. I then went along to Kitchen Studios and saw a north country dwarf who told me that the new enamel sink is now on order and that he will phone me when it arrives. I then went into the marker and bought a half pound of Irish cheese for 50p. I'm sure you like to know that. 

Reading the blurb given to me by the bronchil lady it's very obvious that I am not entitled to any hand-out whilst I have £4,788 in the bank. Ally phoned at 2 and we discussed this. Would it be fraudulent of me to hide my redundancy money under an assumed name? I like the sound of Arthur Skeffington-Phipps. Mum is of the opinion that they will not investigate my severance money because I am trying to claim unemployment benefit, not supplementary benefit.

Sarah phoned and asked if I had received my cheque. She says she and Margo are miserable and that they keep looking over at my empty chair and sighing. Kathleen, they say, is being revoltingly cheerful in order to brighten the mood, but that it isn't working.

Phoned Horton. Joe and Anne Grunwell were there for the weekend, as were Lynn, Dave, Frances and Katie. They all had a riotous time. Mum says Sue had just phoned to report that Christopher has a hernia and is going in to hospital to have an operation later this week. For six months they have worried about his testicles, and when Jim inspected them at the weekend he insisted that something is seriously wrong. I am quite ignorant. What is a hernia, and how does one get one? Mum says the lad must have been born with it.

I created a fish pie and before you could say Norman Tebbit Ally was home. We sat reading and went up to bed disgustingly early. She was in a bit of a temper because she'd spoken to Frank who had annoyed her. He cannot understand what we want to do and seems to think we haven't seriously thought about the future. I think he sees her as a secretary behind a desk and doesn't understand she is bored of office life.

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Monday April 11, 1983

 My first day as an unemployed layabout. In actual fact it was a day of great industry and activity. I wasn't bored for a second. Mind you, I am not the sort of person who could ever be bored. Some of my kinsmen might feel desolate and miserable when they are sitting at home, but not me. I was up at 6:54, and whilst Ally bathed I boiled the eggs and switched on the TV to avoid Steve Wright on Radio One. Selina Scott was presenting, but I switched off after three minutes. Ally went off to work at 8 and I went out and bought a Daily Telegraph to look at the BMDs. Not much really, other than the dishy Rachel Ward, actress niece of the Earl of Dudley, has married.

At 9:20 I phoned the YP and spoke to Paul Roberts in accounts. He told me that the mix up regarding my redundancy cheque is now sorted and so I told him I'd go in and collect it. I got the 72 bus at 11.I picked up a cheque for £4,788 from the pimply 17 year-old Mr Roberts, and returned immediately to Bradford. I made my way to the Employment exchange on Clifford Street where a cattle markert atmosphere prevailed. It could have been an acutely depressing experience for the sort of person easily depressed. Fortunately, I didn't let the place bother me. Queues of dejected 16 year-olds with holes in their jeans and with little hope of finding employment. I am to return tomorrow. I was dealt with by a girl with a very heavy cold, like a character from a Giles cartoon. I walked to the market - wonderfully empty - where I bought meat and vegetables. I returned home at 2 and prepared the dinner. I enjoyed putting the kidneys to marinade and mixing in the Yorkshire puddings, and making a strawberry jelly. Before you could say Robert Carrier it was 5:15 and Ally was home from her labours. I made her a dry Martini and fed her a good dinner. She smiled and said not many men could turn out such a repast. Later Ally wrote to Bessie sending her the £11 we owe for Anne's wedding present. Anne was Frank's secretary years ago. We counted the coins in the large whisky bottle which added up to £60.16. To bed after 10.

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Sunday April 10, 1983

 Low Sunday

Woke up in a sleeping bag on the floor at 10. Went to vomit. Janette went off to sell caravans whilst John, looking remarkably robust, washed the glasses and calmly swigged on a glass of beer. Ally and I climbed into John's bed, but didn't sleep. We both felt ghastly. I had to make several journeys to the bathroom to  vomit with great retchings and much grovelling. I blame it all on the lack of food. I ate none of the quiche, pies and other party sundries. When I did force myself to climb out of bed John gave me toast and tea which revived me. The paracetamols were out. Ally joined me about an hour later and we gathered our things together and headed for home, with John at the wheel, via 'Mother Hubbard's' fish and chip place were we all had a greasy lunch washed down with gallons of tea and piles of bread and butter. It was a cold, thankless day. John left us at home at 4:30. We sat in a heap watching Mastermind from Winchester. Later we snuggled blissfully in bed. There's nothing like a fresh made, crisp bed. We recall arranging to visit MM and Marita next Saturday, but forget the details. Will have to phone. Tomorrow is the start of a new existence.

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