Tuesday October 11, 1983

 Why Not, Hemlington

Why Not?

Still wet. No tattoos this morning and only a pin-striped executive playing the fruit machine to disturb the tranquility. I phoned the brewery with my order and sorted out the deliveries recently arrived on the dray. Look at the map. There are two Hales in Cheshire - one near Manchester and the other in obscurity near Liverpool. Phoned Roy who confirmed that the Cheshire Midland is near Altrincham. Having lunch when Fran O'Brien phoned to query our first summary sheet sent in weeks ago. "Why have you bought an office table? ... and how can you have spent £10 on stationery?" He is such a bloody miser. Ally gave him a complete run down of our purchases. O'Brien has no set date when the Motts take over here, but it must be about a month away. Of course we'll tell nobody. We didn't mention the Cheshire Midland to F.O'B either. Roy says it is none of his business. I got everything ready for our absence at 11 after closing while Ally was upstairs in her
counting house.

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Monday October 10, 1983

 Columbus Day, USA - Thanksgiving Day, Canada

The Why Not, Hemlington

Ally is exhausted and looks quite done in. We went to Thornaby at 2 leaving Sue in the bar. Bought rump steak and a marrow. After a meal at 4 Ally climbed into bed and I told her to remain in that peaceful nest for the remainder of the evening. This she did. Fran O'Brien says the Motts are to take over here. Plumbers came and unblocked a lavatory in the ladies. Messy. They also fixed a blocked sink in the flat. We must be costing the brewery a small fortune. Ally, before going to her slumbers, phoned Les Gledhill and expressed our interest in the Cheshire Midland. We agree to go look at the place on Wednesday. I think Mr Gledhill will make a better area manager than F.O'B.     He hasn't (illegible) yet but we do expect trouble sooner than later. That Bousfield boy crept back in again - like a slug - and I told him to go. How do they have the cheek? Did the tills unaided as Ally slept on. She woke when I climbed into bed.

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Sunday October 9, 1983

 19th Sunday after Trinity

We were up early and ready to go by 11:30. The pub doors opened at 12 and the staff and customers poured in as we left. Ronnie Bedford was lurking around and I told him to go. We set off down the A1 in silence. We worry too much about the bloody pub and can't get our thoughts off the place. We were in Guiseley in about an hour and found the Bakers in disarray. David in one of his sombre moods. Frances and Katie were dressed alike in red with Diana Spencer collars. Katie is grown and not as pink. The others arrived. Mum looked dowdy in the ensemble she last wore at John & Maria's wedding in '76. John and Janette are in Scotland visiting JPH who has been missing his Dad. ____. All to St Paul's, Esholt, at 2 (or was it 3?) for a hurried little christening service carried out by the vicar of St Oswald's, Guiseley. Ally didn't hold Katie who was held by her father instead. She wasn't bothered or put off by the water and attempted to splash in the font. I giggled when the vicar pulled the plug and the water gurgled away noisily. Cora Wilkinson, my music teacher at Fieldhead (1967-71) was playing the organ. Lynn was clad all in grey and David, dryly, commented that she was dressed like a nanny. Back to Thorpefields for a buffet lunch. Audrey Baker looked well but is crippled. Christopher attacked everyone and no amount of chastising could stop him. We left after 7:30 and returned to Middlesbrough for 9. Nothing amiss here. Exhausted to bed.

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Saturday October 8, 1983

 Why Not, Hemlington

Roy.

I decided to go to the Linthorpe to see dear Roy and discuss the arrangements for tomorrow. We found him covered in soot burning rubbish in the garden. He took us in and gave us tea and sandwiches in the snug. All is prepared and Tim is supervising. Marie is away at York races for a few days and has the car. He tells us that a pub in Cheshire, at Hale, called the Cheshire Midland, is up for grabs and says it would suit us. He advised us to ring Les Gledhill or David Tyne on Monday and express our interest. Roy is very keen to see us settled and away from the Why Not and will give a good reference if called upon. Such a pleasant, genuine man he is. He always beams at the sight of us staggering from the car. We went on to see Tim at the Master Cooper. Ally has changed her opinion of the young man and now likes him. Back at the Why Not we sat and had a drink together watching Margaret work. Tim and Philomena came at 8 and I showed him the burglar alarm, &c. A quiet night. I 'bottled up' and got everything ready after 11. Ally did the tills, &c. To bed late and happy knowing we are sneaking off tomorrow.

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Friday October 7, 1983

 Why Not, Hemlington

The birthday of our barmaid Margaret MacMahon who came in and drank two pints of lager and advised me to be more 'forthright' in my dealings with the customers. I think I am quite direct, and not doing too badly. Ray Davis, a maniac barred out by me two weeks ago came sneaking in and was supplied with booze by friends. I spent much of the night arguing with him. He is a psychopath. Ally stayed upstairs and wrote a letter to Jean Watts. I later wrote to Sarah. I am curious to hear of news from the YP.

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Thursday October 6, 1983

 New Moon

Why Not, Hemlington

Parkinson: cock up.

We didn't set the alarm clock and woke at 8:15. Bliss. We lay in our bed listening to Terry Wogan on the radio. The news reveals that Cecil Parkinson has had an affair with his former secretary and that she is now expecting his bastard. That's the door of No. 10 slammed in his face. It never fails to amaze me how such ambitious and intelligent men can make such foolish mistakes and cock everything up. The electrician returned and fixed the fire exit lights damaged in the recent riot. I spent the morning in the bar with Regina Marie Jennings, 23, a new barmaid of Irish extraction, with little or no sense of humour and a quiet, sombre disposition. She would make a very good Mrs Danvers in the next re-make of 'Rebecca'.

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Wednesday October 5, 1983

 Why Not, Hemlington

Ally: fringe

The stocktaker cometh. We were up early. What will happen? Do we have light fingered staff? We shall see. Mick, a tiny wisp of a youth came from the brewery and we spent the morning counting Bacardi bottles, &c. He likes Ally's till cards and says that the cash is £30 over and so we have
nothing to worry about there. He spoke about the other 57 (?) managed houses. The Butcher's Arms at Pudsey is one, near to Auntie Mabel's. Karen is 24 today. We sent a card. It's MM's birthday too. Ally went off to Thornaby and came back at 3:30 with no hair and stood giggling like someone with a screw missing. She does not suit a fringe. She takes these calamitous incidents so well. Many women would weep and sob uncontrollably when dissatisfied with a hairstyle. Not Ally. I am blessed with a good humoured wife. Dominoes in the bar tonight. Ally was in the kitchen for four and a half hours cutting sandwiches.

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Tuesday October 4, 1983

 The Why Not, Hemlington

Bright and blustery. Ally was violently sick. This nausea is going to go on until our child is here. Sickness, late on, often results in twins. I have never seen such violent kicks from an unborn baby. Will she hang on until 1984? We were up early and decided to go out for the morning. A trial run for Sunday's exodus. Brenda and Margaret were working and so we ought to be covered for an emergency. Off we went at 12 leaving an electrician and an insurance man grovelling in the lounge. It seems ages since we went out into the outside world and went blinking through the crowded Middlesbrough streets. To the shops. Ally found a 'passable' dress in Mothercare and a black handbag and shoes to match. We went to a jewellers and bought Katie a silver plated napkin ring and had her initials engraved upon it. It makes a change to the stainless steel Rupert Bears and Mrs Bunnykins tableware. We are quite delirious about having a day off on Sunday. At 3 I phoned Brenda who told me it had been 'dead quiet'. We returned at 4 to eat. A quiet non-violent evening. Clive Freeman, the 18 year-old rugby player, started work. The locals eyed him with suspicion. One punter asked whether he's a judo black belt or karate expert. Obviously, I say he is a leading martial arts champion. Ally stayed upstairs. Tubby kicking furiously. Politics: That awful Welsh politician has been elected leader of the Labour party. Shudder, shudder.

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Monday October 3, 1983

 Why Not, Hemlington

Sam Smith’s have increased their beer prices. The price of a pint of Old Brewery bitter goes up to 55p from 52p. The shock drove customers away. At lunchtime we only took £50 from both bars combined. Very bad. Just three old men in a corner drinking bottles of nut brown ale. This will not do. Fran O'Brien phoned to ask how the weekend went. Ally went to the bank and the shops until 3. Jan, the village tart, was leaning on the bar asking the advice of a retired policeman on the subject of her son wetting the bed at 13. I'd be wetting my bed at 28 if Jan was my mother. Two couples came from Tadcaster to view the pub. Mr & Mrs Mott and Mrs & Mrs Devlin (?). The first couple didn't stay ten minutes, but the second stood at the bar all evening. They have been with Ben Truman's brewery for 6 years in the City of London and now want to move closer to home which is Pontefract. He is a rough diamond who blatantly asked me what fiddles I have managed to concoct. I told him I haven't 'fiddled', yet. He smiled and said I am 'green'. 'Whatever profits you make for the brewery always keep two or three hundred for yourself.' I can see Mr Devlin spending his declining years doing penal servitude. The place was busy and no staff came in until 8. Ally and I were dashing around like blue arsed flies. Ally did too much really. A ghastly, pushy, social-climbing customer named Pauline invited us to her birthday party on Saturday stressing, very loudly "I do not live on the council estate". Evidently she worked here under someone called Bedford and left under a cloud of suspicion and ridicule.

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Sunday October 2, 1983

 18th Sunday after Trinity

Why Not, Hemlington

Happy times: with Marie at the Linnie.

We took it easy this morning. Ally phoned Marie, and they said they would be here at 12:30. Sure enough they were. They sat on bar stools at the bar surveying the damage and joking in true Barnes style. They do not want us to be down-hearted. Roy laughed about the burglar alarm. Sank a few pints. They will help us escape to Katie's christening by sending Mike over to set our alarms and lock up. We are entitled, Roy says, to a few hours of freedom, which is cheering. I thought he might say that after recent atrocities we she should stay here keeping guard on the premises. They left at 1:30. A new barmaid, Sheila, who works in a bank, walked out at 2 and then phoned to say she won't be coming back. Phoned our Mums who are both worried about the violence and ask us to take care. In the afternoon I slept for an hour and woke feeling horrible. Looking in the mirror my eyes are bloodshot and puffed. Staggered around all evening yawning. Ally was banished upstairs at the dangerous hour of 10:30pm and I rid the place of drunken louts quite unaided. The girls are obviously terrified of asking anyone to drink up. We sat in our 'office' into the small hours counting our tills. My maths, always poor, has improved daily.

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Saturday October 1, 1983

 Why Not, Hemlington

Resign? Never.

October. Ally phoned the Linthorpe to tell Marie of our latest fracas. They are coming to see us tomorrow. Blustery, autumnal. Bernadette Low, the little mouse-like barmaid phoned to say she will not be coming in again. That's all right with me. Ally, jubilant, interviewed an 18 year-old athlete who answers to Clive. He starts on Tuesday. The nights grow dark early. Real tea and crumpet weather. I do so enjoy the changing seasons. Inspector Dale and Det Sgt Potts called in for a swift 12 pints of lager. Nicky Potts reassured me and asked me not to give my notice to Sam Smith's just yet. It had never crossed my mind to do so. It was deathly quiet in both bars. The ghouls have gone and we are now alone. The burglar alarm sounded at regular intervals throughout the night.

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