Saturday August 27, 1983

 Linthorpe Hotel, Middlesbrough

Sean.

Horribly hungover. No sympathy from Ally. I certainly didn't get any. Downstairs nobody had surfaced and I did all the 'bottling up' and tidied the garden. Like a zombie and really regretting last night. It's fine for that bloody lot. They can stay in bed all day sleeping it off. I have to be up at 7am regardless. I go about effing and blinding all day. Ally, on the other hand, is speedy, efficient and cool. Slept from 2-5:30 and was better by evening. Everyone in the bar laughing at my 'hedgehog' haircut. In Lounge 1 with Ally and Sean. A quiet night and pleasant. Roy enjoys stirring things and told Ally how he attempted over and over again to persuade me to quit the bar and go to bed last night. Much laughter. At 11:30 I went over to the Chinese takeaway and bought food for Ally, William and I. Went up to bed and lay naked eating our supper watching 'American Graffiti'. Switched off. We'd seen it all before. Read 'The Eagle Has Landed' by Jack Higgins. Slept like a log. Ally, you'll be pleased to hear, has forgiven me.

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Friday August 26, 1983

 Linthorpe Hotel, Middlesbrough

Back to Middlesbrough. Both of us feeling knackered. Great difficulty keeping awake on the 125MPH high speed London to Edinburgh express. To the Linthorpe for 9:30 and up to our room with cups of tea. A pack of new photos await us. I told Marie we'd visited the Red Lion and she said that from the hundreds of couples who passed through the Linthorpe training only two couples, the Willses being one, have failed to keep contact with them. I thought from the tone of the conversation yesterday that they didn't think much of Roy & Marie. Tonight at 11:30 Ally went up to bed after one drink and I sat at the bar with the mob. Old Mags was in stitches. Discussed genealogy with Peter and Kieran and the fallacy that all commoners are descended from Edward III. Horribly pissed. I couldn't escape from the bar and everyone bought me booze as I tried to escape upstairs. Marie informed me that I am to be left in charge for two days next week. Gulp. Roy was pissed and drinking gin and bitter lemon. We argued about Middlesbrough FC. I know as much about Middlesbrough FC as I do about the genetic construction of the male reproductive cells. When Roy took up the microphone and started singing 'I Left My Heart in San Francisco' I knew it was time for bed and went upstairs after falling over the ironing board. Ally was fuming like Mount Etna.

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Thursday August 25, 1983

 5, Club Street, Lidget Green, Bradford

Ally's clinic day. She woke me with tea and toast this morning and we sat in our pink, sunny bedroom. We are noy obsessed by 'home' and when we are away we can adapt to any room or rooms with no strain. Home is where we are, if that's not too corny. I have a haircut and come away looking like Shakin' Stevens. Ally had a trim too, and we went and sat in the clinic. But before this we went to the Red Lion at Girlington where Chris and Elaine Wills (who trained at the Linthorpe last Nov-Jan). They showed us the place. It's very pleasant. We'd love it for ourselves. The little woman took Ally upstairs and showed us the flat which is massive. So, back to the clinic. Ally was weighed and the midwife gasped at her increase in weight. She's now 8st 10 and a half lb. All is well. Ally should be feeling slight movement from the baby now. We left reassured. Ally bought a dress from one of those tiny, obscure shops. It's pretty and wide and has a tiger and a sunset across the front. I gave her some black, plastic earrings and put them in a letter. She cried when I made the presentation. She is an emotional old stick lately. Hannah was one on Tuesday. We sent a birthday card, but no gift. A vast liver stew this evening. I weeded the garden and Ally phoned Bessie. Mum phoned us. They are coming to Middlesbrough on Tuesday. Bed. Jack Higgins, &c.

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Wednesday August 24, 1983

 5, Club St, Lidget Green, Bradford

We headed for home at the crack of dawn. Outside at 6am waiting for our taxi. We saw the old cook lumbering up the road like a Beatrix Potter character. Why does she start work in the dark, and so early, when she doesn't get paid until 7? We hid behind a wall laughing as she shouted up to Roy's bedroom asking to be let in. We were home in a flash and went to the market to buy a joint of beef and vegetables for lunch. Home for 11 and had a vast lunch at 12. ally phoned the girls and at 2:30 Pam brought Lynn and the children over. Lynn looks well and is brown and slim (wearing Ally's dress). She recounted to us a weird tale. Elaine (at John's party last week) dashed out into the night and disappeared and told Dave Allinson (her husband) that John and Peter had attempted to ______. How ridiculous. Dave Allinson has fallen out with Dave B about it. Phoned Susan. Daft as ever. Phoned Mum who was cool, but says they'll visit Middlesbrough next week. Marlene and Frank are staying at Horton until the weekend. Dave B came to collect Lynn at 6 and they went off, gaily. Lynn chattered away non stop and was still blabbering away as the car went down the street. The girls are beautiful. Frances is leggy and naughty and Katie divine. So podgy and pink. We were in bed by 9:30. I'm reading Jack Higgins.

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Tuesday August 23, 1983

Full Moon

 Linthorpe Hotel, Middlesbrough

We had a letter from Lynn this morning which contained some very sad news. David Lazenby was found dead in bed last Thursday. He died in his sleep. I do not profess to have known him well but down the years we have come into contact, usually in a drunken state at parties, and it's horrific to think that he's been taken at such a young age. Poor Peter. He will have taken this badly. John & Janette gave a party on Saturday but hardly anyone attended. Lynn and Elaine (Allinson) attended leaving the two Davids babysitting, and later Elaine disappeared into the night after sobbing in the toilets that Peter, our beloved Peter N, had 'propositioned her'. Oh dear. 

Carolyn Herbert.

The funnies reveal that the photos published yesterday of the willowy Diana-look-alike were not of Sophie Birdwood but of the Hon Carolyn Herbert, Lord Porchester's daughter. We are told that Sophie Birdwood has never met Prince Andrew and she returned from holiday yesterday looking peeved. They must have been wetting themselves up at Balmoral. Carolyn Herbert is a friend of the royals. She would be ideal for Andrew. 

Roy and I cleaned the beer lines. I am not too good at this yet. Roy commented dryly that he can tell that my last job went 'at a slower pace'. You can say that again. Ally was closetted with Marie talking about book keeping and how to spot the vodka addicted cleaning lady. She lay upon the bed this afternoon telling me of the ingenius ways Marie has of spotting a 'fiddler'. Both of us in the lounge tonight.

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Monday August 22, 1983

Linthorpe Hotel, Middlesbrough

Sophie Birdwood.

 The morning 'funnies' (tabloid newspapers) have photos of the Hon Sophie Birdwood returning from Balmoral. They say she is Prince Andrew's new 'gal' after Koo Stark's demise. Sophie is a Selina-Scott-Princess-of-Wales-look-alike. It would be nice if HRH settled down with a willowy, virginal aristo. I am sure he will do before 1993. Unfortunately, Sophie was 'Deb of the Year' in 1982. And I think that the Queen has an aversion to debutantes. 

We have a letter from Mary (Moore) who has fallen and broken some ribs. Betty has suffered a stroke, and Miss Whincup is back from York. We also received a cheque for £800 from the building society which has to go straight to the bank this week. 

I worked in the vault all day. Hideously dismal. Stood looking at Ron Perry's broken nose and re-living the details of his pathetic brawl. I do not think that Roy should entertain him. The place is a home to thugs and villains. Mike Walker from the brewery came to see us. 

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Sunday August 21, 1983

 12th Sunday after Trinity

Linthorpe Hotel, Middlesbrough

A family day. Ally was desperate to see the shire horses but they came and went before we could look at them. I spent the morning cleaning up the mess in the dining room from last night's orgy. Sausages and other morsels on sticks were scattered everywhere. A gang of lads all with dyed blond hair and crates of diet pils lager were responsible. I worked in the lounge 12-2pm. Kids filled the garden and coloured balloons floated above the cloudless skies. Old Mags was slewed and fell around in the kitchen . It's worrying because she must only be topping up - falling over after only a few halves. We had hot dogs later and crept to bed in the afternoon. Worked 8-11 tonight and felt sluggish after a long sleep. I was up and down from the cellar all night changing barrels. At 10:45 in the vault Ron Perry had a brainstorm and attacked Geoff and almost killed the chap. His friend Ian was bashed over the head with a pewter tankard by Norma and he was taken to hospital where they gave him 15 stitches. Bloody fools.

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Saturday August 20, 1983

 Linthorpe Hotel, Middlesbrough

What's happening in the news? I simply do not know. I assumed that I would have to carry on reading the newspapers on a daily basis as I did for nine long years. Yet since April, or at least July, I haven't missed them. Is Koo Stark Duchess of York yet? Has Chad been annexed to Libya? How are the PM's eyes? Is David Steel now Viscount Peebles? Ally and I worked 11-2. Later we walked to Hinton's supermarket. Bought a film for the camera and a packet of biscuits for our room. Slept afterwards. Barbecue night. At 12 we went up to bed and Roy assured me that he will follow our example, but at 5am I could quite clearly hear him talking on the microphone. A band had been playing in the dining room and they had a knees up afterwards.

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Friday August 19, 1983

 Linthorpe Hotel, Middlesbrough

Our first pay day as Samuel Smith employees. A historic moment. For the first time in our relationship I earn more than my wife. We received £752.88 for six weeks work. Ally has a throat problem now. It's something going around the hotel staff but only seems to take one victim each week. Charlie Poole is also smitten and he sat coughing into his beard. He's a good sort is Charlie. Ex-RN and apparently, in days gone by, a force to be reckoned with. Now a 54 year-old ruin. It was barbecue night again but I was shut away in the hideous dining room. I have been listening to the exploits of young William (Barnes). I am honoured because he is a silent lad usually - at that awkward stage, 17 in November, and bored senseless. Ally's bump is growing and she looks beautiful. She feels quite different, and looks podgy.

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Thursday August 18, 1983

 Linthorpe Hotel, Middlesbrough

The fire alarm was sounding off all through the night. Up at 7:15 and drank tea with Mags Snr and Charlie. Reports from the party. Sounded riotous. Falstaff and Ophelia didn't fall in until after 4am. We have a letter from Frank and Bessie. The Rev Matthew Lynn is to be translated to the Isle of Wight. Are only bishops translated? Young Matthew has curls just like Graham did as a baby. Andrew is still unemployed and going out with the mysterious Lorraine. Frank's written contribution is a great honour, according to Ally. Busy night. A private party in the dining room. Ally has been having fun in the kitchen. Mags, a hopeless cook, has been laying down the law on pastry making, and Ally, an exquisite cook, has kept her cool and remained good humoured. The make pastry with self raising flour and look aghast when Ally calmly says she prefers to use plain. They make some hideous food here. When we go home next week we intend having roast beef and Yorkshire pudding - galore.

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Wednesday August 17, 1983

 Linthorpe Hotel, Middlesbrough

Dry day. I brought Ally her eggs to bed at 10, and we both ate in our undies. Too hot to wear clothes. We decided to go to town again and got a bus at 12:30 and lunched at the Masham on steak and kidney pie and roast potatoes. We couldn't locate the Sam Smith's pub the 'Why Not?' It's somewhere in the vicinity. The manager of the Master Cooper has been given the push and Tim, the horrible scruffy Tim, has been given the job of relief manager for about two weeks. We went into Mothercare again and in Marks & Spencer's I bought a tie, a shirt and a pullover. Well, if I am going to be a daddy I might as well look like one. Home at 5 for tea and biscuits. Laying on the bed I finished Ken Follett's The Man From St Petersburg. Worked in the vault from 7. Ally in the lounge bar showing a new girl, Jill, the ropes. Later in the lounge I found Mike kissing Ally and congratulating her on being pregnant. It was news to Sean too. They went off to a fancy dress Shakespeare themed party. Roy went along as Falstaff but looked more like King Farouk. Mags as Ophelia wearing a wet night shirt festooned with plastic roses and carrying a bottle of vodka. We went up to bed with coffee.

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