Wednesday November 30, 1983

 St Andrew's Day

The Red Lion, Thornton Road, Four Lane Ends, Bradford 8

I woke up feeling grotty and 'hungover' though not a drop of alcohol passed my lips last night. I felt weary this morning and in need of fresh air. Jean and Enid worked from 11 and Ally and I were free to take a day off. Before leaving I sliced off the end of my thumb with a kitchen knife while slicing a lemon. Heavily bandaged I made good my escape from the Red Lion to ourcottage just a few mile away. The white 'moses' basket stands in splendid isolation awaiting the arrival of its tiny occupant. We went into town where Ally tried on a series of hideous tent-like frocks, like an 18 stone black and gold fairy, to a floral 'Tessie O'Shea'. Poor pet was unsure about the black and grey creation for tonight but decides it is the better option. To calm ourselves we went to lunch at Giuseppi's Backyard. £8 on pizza, lasagne, and sticky chocolate fudge cake. Felt much better afterwards. We phoned our mums. Both well, happy and contented. We went at 6:30 to the Buckle's Inn at Askham Richard for the brewery Yuletide 'knees up'. Had champers and brandy (pre-prandial), with Roy, Marie, Tim, various trainees, Elaine & Chris Wills. She looked pale and bloated although her baby isn't due until April 1. At dinner we were on Colin Black's table and we sat next to a Barnsley couple now at Redcar. Rob and Cath (ex Green Dragon, Stockton), sat on the other side, and are now at the Butcher's Arms, Pudsey. Snobby. Roast beef and Yorkshire pudding. Lashings of wine. I was pissed. Didn't see Roy and Marie until the end. He wasn't his usual self. He was 'well oiled' though I suspect Marie had given him a serious talking to. He had given up heavy spirits for dry martinis. I drank brandy and Babycham and clung to a box of cherry liqueur chocolates. David Tyne chatted with Ally and attempted to buy her a drink, but was foiled when I got to the bar ahead of him, unfortunately. We left at a disgusting late hour passing Roy dancing with Ronnie Simpson in the lounge. A forgotten drive home.

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Tuesday November 29, 1983

 Red Lion, Thornton Road, Four Lane Ends, Bradford 8

Red Lion, Four Lane Ends.

The boring NGA strike has brought about a rush on Daily Telegraph sales, and so they had all sold out when I finally got to the newsagent. Instead I bought a thin and dismal YP. Prince Edward has appeared in a play at Cambridge and was a success. He will be Duke of Cambridge one day - I hope. Busy lunch. Ally went to 'mothercraft' classes at Odsal where they have all the pregnant ladies laying on the floor and sleeping for ten minutes. Poor Ally wanted to wee and was laid with crossed legs and an agonised expression. She watched a film on breast feeding and had a lesson in breathing during labour. One should always breathe from the diaphragm, and not the nose of course. __________. Ally tired. She slept on the settee. I did no work after 8. It is tradition for the landlord of this establishment to go out at 8pm and escort an elderly and apparently blind widow across the road for her nightly gil of 'Four X' mild. Poor old Mary, for that is her name, was hit by a car in Morecambe while eyeing a joint of beef in a butchers' shop window. I went upstairs to my sleeping beauty and watched a docuemtnary on Prince Johannes von Thurn und Taxis, a West German aristocrat in Robert Lacey's TV series.

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Monday November 28, 1983

 5, Club Street, Lidget Green, Bradford

Red Lion, Thornton Rd, Bradford 8.

Sunshine. Up at dawn and wallowed in hot baths. Nervous. A change of pub is like changing to a new planet because they are all like individual worlds once one is inside. Ally dropped me off at the pub at 9:20 and I went in to see Chris, Elaine and Les Gledhill, who didn't stay long and left after the niceties. I stood at the bar with a drink for much of the afternoon because they had made sure that plenty of staff would be working on change-over day. Chris & Elaine left at 1 and I was left holding the fort. The barmaids are pleasant and seem very reliable. Enid, small, middle-aged and blond with a loud giggle, and Jean Boswell, known as 'Bossy', small, fat, and domineering, but pleasant with it. The cook, Sheryl, thinks she's Delia Smith and fancies herself. Ally came at 2 and we had lunch together. I worked from 5:30 to 8 without staff. It was a pool match night from 8 and I was joined by Rita. Some of the lads wanted to start a game of pool at 11 and I put my foot down and refused to allow it. One pissed individual called me all the names under the sun, but left peaceably. Ally was upstairs watching the 'colour' TV.

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Sunday November 27, 1983

 Advent Sunday

5, Club Street, Lidget Green, Bradford 8

Ally & Mandy.

Ally has bought an advent calendar which she has been gleefully waiting to open. You know, it's one with the little doors which you open daily up until Christmas. A bright and crisp start. Ally went out in her red dungarees and wellies to wash the dirty Mandy Metro. The neighbours all came out to greet us on our return. Poor Phyllis at the end of the street was washing her windows. Norman had a stroke yesterday and has been rendered speechless. Mary tells us that our new next door neighbours are Ukrainians. Eastern bloc types dwelling in Britt Greenwood's old residence doesn't seem right. At one we went to the Red Lion at Four Lane Ends. Chris and Elaine came down (for they were upstairs and always take Sundays off) and we sat until after 4 going over the details and all the ins and outs. Most of the customers look like geriatrics and incapable of serious violence. Chris cleaned his beer lines and Elaine chatted away to Ally, who was fagged out and fading fast. Home in the darkness of the early evening to Club Street. Feet up in front of the TV. 'Jane Eyre' again. We went to the Chinese take-away near the Fire Brigade pub. I had prawn sweet and sour and Ally a prawn curry. To bed. The prospect of two weeks at the Red Lion is not harrowing.

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Saturday November 26, 1983

Coleford, Gloucestershire

Ally & Matthew.

Woke up early for breakfast with Matthew, who smashed his crockery, and poured his juice on Tara, the dog. An electrician was working in the house and the electricity was on and off all morning. Ally munched her way through a tin of Danish biscuits. After breakfast of eggs and bacon we went to the local pub and sat in the entrance hall (because of Matthew) and had a couple of drinks. Everyone knows Graham. He must have an irresistible back because everybody pats him on it. After 2 we left Gloucestershire . Following Graham's map we were home by our fireside in 4 hours or so. Long, boring motorways. I walked to the fish and chip shop in drizzle and came back with fish and curry sauce. We lay in the dark watching TV and looking at our correspondence - bills, bills, bills. To bed with King Richard III and his hunchback.

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Friday November 25, 1983

 Chillandham Cross, Itchen Abbas

Gill and Matthew.

Ally got up before 8 to say goodbye to Frank who didn't come in last night until after 11. Hw won't be seeing his daughter again until after the baby is born. He is a man of few words. ________. At breakfast Bessie gave us cigars and a bottle of Charles VII champagne to celebrate with in 42 days time.... She seemed to be annoyed with F for not making enough of a fuss of his daughter at this important time. Bessie banged around in the kitchen and when she handed over the champers she said: "if he can give bottles to William Bullock then I can give one to you ..." We packed our belongings and Bessie went to have her hair done in Alresford. They fly to Jersey this afternoon for a round of dinner parties and socialising. Ally phoned Gill and arranged to go to Coleford today to sleep the night before returning to Bradford on Saturday. Bessie came back in with a Margaret Thatcher special hairdo and took me on one side in the kitchen, and said in a whisper that she hopes Ally will be brave because she has never been one to tolerate pain. I am sure that nobody likes pain, and feel sure that Ally will be valiant. I have instructions to phone them as soon as Ally's labour begins. We said our goodbyes to Bess and went off in driving rain to Coleford. The very heavy rain made the going bad. To Coleford for afternoon tea at the Dixon's Gloucestershire residence. Matthew is a mass of blond curls. He has the Lynn eyes but Gill says he's a typical Dixon... Gill is a very progressive mother. Graham went to get a haircut and came back having called at the pub. He made a curry with my assistance and we ate at 9 o'clock. Graham snored heavily after his curry, To bed at some late hour.

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Thursday November 24, 1983

 Thanksgiving Day, USA

Chillandham Cross, Itchen Abbas

Rain. We decided to torture ourselves and go back to Southampton. We were up early and managed to get away before 11 or so. We had breakfasted on boiled eggs, but I was still stuffed from last night's feast. We had difficulty parking in town and drove around aimlessly for half an hour. Visited Habitat and bought Christmas presents for Graham, Gill, & John &c. This really set the ball rolling and we moved on writing endless cheques at Tyrrell & Green, Owen & Owen, Plummers, Lilley & Skinner, & Debenhams, &c. A frantic shop but by 4pm we had completed our Christmas present buying. Both of us were damp and exhausted. I managed to buy next years journal. They cost over £3 now. Back to Winchester. ______. Avril Hargreaves called in to say hello, and did just that. No sign of Frank again this evening and we dined on chicken casserole at 8. Bessie would like a quieter life. Bed at 11.

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Wednesday November 23, 1983

 Chillandham Cross, Itchen Abbas

Ready for dinner.

Frost. Biting cold in fact. Bessie was out at her dentist and so we waited for her and took her into Southampton for the afternoon. She rarely ventures there because she doesn't like driving on the by-pass. We trudged around a damp Southampton for hours. We spent too long in Mothercare, and amongst other things she bought a dressing gown in readiness for her stay at the BRI. Later, in Dorothy Perkins she bought a grey and black creation suitable for next week's dinner dance, that is if our invitations ever arrive. Bessie gave Ally a pearl necklace which will go nicely with the new frock. The Princess of Wales has brought pearls back into fashion. Not that they were ever 'out' but associated with old matrons on the platform at the Tory conference. Tonight we went back with F & B to Southampton and the Potters Heron (where F had left his briefcase) and we dined at La Margherita's, a noisy but pleasant place, like a plot of Italy on British soil. I had steak au poivre, and the others had veal marsala. Very good. Ally says I'm quiet. Reflective maybe. Back at 10:30 and to bed shattered. I had a dream about the Red Lion and everything going wrong.

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Tuesday November 22, 1983

 Chillandham Cross, Itchen Abbas

Ally at Chillandham Cross.

Frost. Vast breakfast. Ally very moody when the mirror in the car fell off in her hand. She bit Bessie's head off and stormed around like Mussolini. We went to Winchester again, just the two of us. Looked at the shops but bought nothing. Spent hours looking at books. I do fancy Kenneth Rose's 'George V'. Were his last words really 'bugger Bognor', I wonder? I'd like to think they were. We went for a drink to the Market Tavern where the barperson spoke like Sybil Fawlty. Mind you, they all sound like Sybil in these parts. We resisted food in the pub and shopped until dusk. Home to Bessie who roasted a large piece of beef, too much for the three of us. Frank was out deputising for Richard Barclay at the Potters Heron and so he wanted no dinner. We three ate at 7. Yorkshire puddings courtesy of M.L. Rhodes, Esq. Twenty years ago this evening JFK was done in. I had just gone to bed, aged 8, at Goldthorpe, and Mum came up to tell us of the president's assassination. Ally cannot recall the event. Bessie seems to think she and Frank were out at a dinner, or maybe confusing JFK with Bobby 5 years later.

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Monday November 21, 1983

 Chillandham Cross, Itchen Abbas, Hampshire

Chillandham Cross.

Frost and cold. We had the usual vast Winchester breakfast and then, feeling guilty, we walked down by the river and through Easton before returning to Chillandham Cross. They are constructing a motorway just a couple of miles from the house and a great white scar of chalk and clay runs across Itchen Valley. The Transport Secretary should be castrated. Evidently, the monstrosity will slash three minutes off the journey from Bournemouth to London. I wanted to take a photo of Ally nestling in the bullrushes and mallard ducks but the camera went on the blink. Very annoying. We went with Bessie into town and spent hours in the shops. It's not something we've done for six months and so was something of a novelty. I took my erring camera into Dixon's (no relation) who fixed it in minutes. Ally can be very tetchy with her mother. My wife is wanting in tact and patience at times. I blame the bulge for this change in temperament. She must be so very uncomfortable at times. Roast leg of lamb with Bessie. Frank was out and when he returned he locked himself in his study.

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Sunday November 20, 1983

Last Sunday after Trinity - Full Moon 

5, Club Street, Lidget Green

Bessie & Frank.

Her Majesty The Queen's wedding anniversary. They are in Delhi for the Commonwealth Conference, where the poor sovereign is calming everyone after the Grenada fiasco. I do not know what to think about Mrs Gandhi. Is she very bad, or is she very good? We spent a restful morning 'neath the duvet and then took baths and packed suitcases. Bright, sunny and cold. We left jlust after 12 for Winchester and arrived after 4, after only one stop at Watford Gap, where Ally bought a glossy baby magazine. Frank and Bessie were just returned from Guernsey, and were knackered. We dined on braised pork chops and a pleasant white wine. They did not go on about Ally's 'bump'. I expected a little more excitement. Not a late night.

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