Thursday December 29, 1983

 5, Club Street

Uncle Albert day. 14 years since his passing. Colder. I made eggs for Ally and we drank gallons of tea in bed. She read the birth announcements in the Daily Telegraph. No Samuels or Clementines today, although a Samuel Paul was listed yesterday. Ally had a restless night listening to me snoring. She also accused me of stealing her pillows. I chastised her. Why couldn't she simply have shaken me and asked for them back? 

We have a late Christmas card from Uncle Bert in Nottingham which includes Reggie's address. I went out and splashed water on the car. It's only the second clean it's had since September. Ally stood ironing and looked pale today. We ate mounds of sandwiches and banana splits. 

I sat with Margaret Thatcher's biography. What has happened to the Labour party since Harold Wilson's departure? It was bad with him but one hell of a lot worse without him. I can think of nothing worse than Neil Kinnock, the arrogant upstart. Dear Mrs T will be at the helm of government until the 1990s. Watched 'Great Expectations' on TV. Janette phoned but we said we would have to miss the party tonight. I phoned Marlene (because Janette was too shy to do so) to give her the details of John's gathering. All the usual mob are meeting at the Station Hotel, of course. Ally went to the clinic at 3pm and came back tearful. She had endured a long wait in a dismal waiting room and was downhearted._________.

We finished the remains of our Turkey (thank God) and watched a ghost story on Channel 4. I do enjoy an eerie tale. Then with square eyes watched 'Dogs of War', a bit of a let down. So slow. Ally went to bed at 10 and I tolerated the film until 12. To bed with Margaret Thatcher but couldn't sleep, and neither could Ally. She got up and did some washing. I blame the baby.

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Wednesday December 28, 1983

Lord Holderness.

 Stayed in bed until 11. The phone was ringing downstairs. Could it be L. Gledhill to despatch me to a distant tavern at the back of beyond? I let the bloody thing ring. I held my place in bed and slept on. Ally brought me bananas on toast and tea. I was reading Penny Junor's Margaret Thatcher until 1am this morning. What a tremendous year she's had. The first Tory PM since Salisbury to be elected to serve a second term. Miss Junor says that when at Oxford the then Margaret Roberts fell for the second son of an earl who became a luminary in the Conservative party, but doesn't name him. Who could it have been? I say it's Lord Holderness, who, as Richard Wood, was MP for Bridlington. He was at Oxford at the same time as Mrs T. It will all come out in the wash, won't it?

Princess Caroline of Monaco marries an Italian youth tomorrow in a civil ceremony. Let's hope that this one will last. In other news the Pope has visited prison and forgiven the Turk who tried to kill him in May '81. Fool. It's now a green light to terrorists everywhere. Yuri Andropov hasn't been seen in public since June and speculation about the Russian leader's health continues. Most members of the politburo are geriatric. 

Victoria the Great, starring Dame Anna Neagle, was on Channel 4. Lynn and Dave came here for ten minutes at 5 after shopping. Dave ruffled Ally and annoyed her telling her not to sit around waiting for the baby but to be active and go about her usual chores. Cheeky bugger. That is exactly what she is doing. The Bakers friendship with Dave and Elaine Allinson has ended, for ever it seems. Very sad.  ______.

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Tuesday December 27, 1983

 Bank Holiday in the UK & Rep. of Ireland

5, Club Street, Lidget Green, Bradford

Ally has some horrible, dark stretch marks. _________. I awoke in the top bunk at 10. Mum was downstairs making tea and toast. I have a funny tummy _________. It feels chilled and it's very unlike me to suffer in this area. I had breakfast and a brandy by the fire. In fact breakfast lasted long into the afternoon. I went out to buy a paper and later Ally and Dad sat pulling the epic 'El Cid' to pieces. Later they went off to see Sue and Peter. I slept in the chair by the glimmer of the Christmas tree lights. Well, we aren't having a Christmas baby are we? I didn't fancy the idea of spending Yuletide on a labour ward. 

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Monday December 26, 1983

 Bank Holiday in the UK, Rep. of Ireland and Canada

5, Club Street, Lidget Green, Bradford

Slept until 10. Got up and made pancakes for tonight's dinner. Mum and Dad came here after 12 and we talked about the baby. Mum says he'll be called Oliver James. Dad and I went out to inspect the metro who continues to take in water. We re-glued the door lining and mopped up the water. A cold day. We listened to Nat King Cole and relaxed. We appreciate the tranquility of home life and idleness after months of smoke-filled boozers. We ate at 5:30 and sat for three hours. Seafood pancakes, roast beef, roast potatoes, broccoli, pineapple, cream, mince pies, &c. We get on so well with Mum and Dad. _________. Dad created a drink, dark rum with double cream floating atop. He calls it a 'rum Bailey'. Mum doesn't drink quite as much as in years gone by. Just a few whiskies. Watched the news. Violet Carson is dead. Another blow for Coronation Street. We ate chocolates and chatted by the fire. Bed at circa 2am.

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Sunday December 25, 1983

 5, Club Street, Lidget Green, Bradford

Christmas Day

We got up at about 8am and ran around like excited children. We didn't dress but went down to open presents. We exchanged watches. Ally gave me a Nat King Cole LP (memories of karaoke at the Linnie), a yellow Shetland sweater, and Penny Junor's biography of Margaret Thatcher. Alfred the turkey was washed and placed in the oven, and we sat, feet up, drinking Malibu and pineapple. Mary came over with a gift of tea towels and then went off to cook her mother's lunch. Phoned Mum. She was making Sunday lunch at John's. The children are joining them, but not Hannah. We ate at 1:30 (Ally eating like a horse). We watched the Queen, but Mrs Gandhi seemed to dominate the whole programme. Not HM's best Christmas offering. Frank phoned and Ally spoke to Bessie for half an hour. At 4 we left, most unwillingly, to go to Lynn's, where Thorpefields was crowded and noisy with the cries of exhausted

children. We exchanged more presents here. Christopher was taken home hysterical at 7, and the Baker sisters were bathed and bedded too. All the children have been picking their noses today. We sat until 10 and then returned to Club Street where we sat watching the Marx Brothers. Firefly and Mrs Teasdale.

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Saturday December 24, 1983

 Butcher's Arms, Pudsey

Rain. Back to the Butcher's, lacking in Yuletide atmosphere and quite dismal. Auntie Mabel came in at 2 and sat in a corner drinking brandy, Marlene and Frank joined her at 2:30. Auntie says that if I continue in this business she could quite easily become a alcoholic. Marlene was very merry and full of Christmas cheer. Darling Ally came at 3 and we went to Marlene's on Hough Side Road. We had a couple of drinks and returned home to Club St. This evening we went to John's where Mum and Dad are lodging the night. JPH and Catherine were watching 'Flash Gordon'. Both are so Macdonald to look at. We last saw them both in April, 1982. Catherine showed Dad her ballet positions and footwork. John and Janette went out to the Station Hotel to meet Chris Rat, Peter Mather, Martyn Cole, &c. We sat and drank cloudy beer with Mum and Dad until they came back at 11:30 to open some presents. John gave Mum and Dad a gold carriage clock, and they gave me the new (Rolling) Stones LP. Ally a woolly top. Mum gave me a china mug (of all things), and Ally received a fancy night
gown with pants (?). We sat until after 1 and then came home. 

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Friday December 23, 1983

 Butcher's Arms, Pudsey

Back to the Butcher's Arms at 9 where I 'bottled up' surrounded by yapping dogs. Rob had been up until 2am watching TV. Very busy until 3pm. I opened up at 11 and two staff came in at 12. Pudsey people are, in the main, very tolerant good humoured types. Ally feeling fat and uncomfortable and acting peculiarly. Is this it? Home at 4 and collected the turkey (10lb 4oz) costing £5.00. Spent £43 on booze. Phoned Geoff at the Emmott Arms to say I am ignoring him today and not going over to Rawdon. I also phoned Chris at the 'Lion Rouge'. He tells me almost casually that he is in mourning for his brother, apparently a mentally handicapped Cornish person, living in an institution, who choked to death yesterday on an early Christmas lunch. _______. He and Mrs Wills are going to the funeral on Tuesday/Wednesday and he suggested that I might be called upon to take up the mantle of responsibility at Girlington in his absence. No bloody fear. My phone comes off the hook tomorrow. Ally tearful and 'edgy'. This evening the pub was dead and I stood, glass in hand, until 11:30. Rob drives Ally into a coma. He is such a bore. Kath is a smart, prim little thing, but nicer than I have previously thought.

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Thursday December 22, 1983

5, Club Street, Lidget Green, Bradford

Shortest Day

Butcher's Arms.

Soddened. Couldn't reach L. Gledhill, but left a message with Jane at the brewery asking him to phone me. Porridge at dawn. Horrible breakfast TV. Selina Scott really put her foot in it telling the nation that Santa Claus doesn't exist. Can you imagine the sobbing children throughout the realm, sitting around their TV sets? 

To the Butcher's Arms at 9:20, where I 'bottled up' for a 'crippled' Rob. Les Gledhill phoned after 12 and told me to stay at Pudsey until Saturday and asked about the Moorhouse and 'can you do the job?' I of course replied 'yes' and he said he will see me after Christmas. Rob was gleeful and says I have the Moorhouse on the strength of this very vague conversation, but I'm not banking on anything. Frantic day. The till is like a computer and it takes an Einstein-like brain to operate it. Ally saw Dr Duck at 10. The baby can come any time from now until mid-January. Ally weighs 10st 3lb. Not too hideous. There's a lack of seasonal cheer at the Butcher's. Ally baked tonight and I put marzipan on a cake at 7. Butcher's 8-11pm. Hilda and Tony called in. I was too busy to socialise for long. They introduced me to Michelle Myers (nee Pickles), my cousin-in-law, who was in drinking with a girl friend. Home at 11. Saw in the Daily Telegraph that Marlborough House in London may once again become a royal residence. A good thing.

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Wednesday December 21, 1983

 5, Club Street, Lidget Green, Bradford

Butcher's Arms.

Bloody wet. To the Butcher's Arms at Pudsey, where Rob has injured his back lifting a barrel onto the gantry. He is something of a Sarah Bernhardt, I fear. It looks as though I will be here until Saturday because young Master Piper is incapacitated. Kath made 80 Christmas dinners for a pack of factory workers, and yet the festive feeling isn't quite here yet. Poor Ally spent the day going back and forth to Bradford. At 3 we sat down and had turkey and wine . The Pipers have Yorkshire terriers who scurry around like rats. The staff here knife each other in the back, metaphorically of course, reminiscent of the 'Reign of Terror' in the French revolution. Home at 4:30. Cary Grant is soon to be eighty and they (the BBC) are regurgitating all his films. Gammon and pineapple. I then slept in a heap in my chair. Returned to Pudsey for 8. Uneventful. Rob's cellar could be cleaner. Saw Paul Edwards at a fish and chip shop and told him to circulate the news that I am in Pudsey until Christmas. Couldn't reach Gledhill though he did visit Rob at 5.

Tuesday December 20, 1983

 Full Moon

5, Club Street, Lidget Green, Bradford

The Brown Hare, Harehills.

Rain. Phoned L. Gledhill who wasn't in. Phoned Don Whitfield at the Brown Hare and he asked me to be at Harehills for 2pm. Ally washed a batch of nappies and half of them came out frayed at the edges and looked shoddy. They cost us £13 on Saturday. Ally drove me to Leeds and left me at the Brown Hare at 2 and went on to her Mothercraft class at Odsal to watch a film on childbirth. The Brown Hare is a new, red brick erection with a bar longer than I have ever seen. Don Whitfield is a happy go lucky country and western singer. His wife Audrey is a fresh faced chain smoker. He employs boys from the university to work in the bar - a good idea. It's very Linthorpe in its organisation. I worked in the bar - another Christmas party for OAPs. More atmosphere than last Saturday with everyone singing along as if they're at the City Varieties. An amazing cellar. Don's doing almost 20 barrels of ale a week. Ally came back for me at 6 and we bombed off home to watch TV and eat plastic bags of fish in sauce. 'Dallas'. Awful. Ally's childbirth film was worthwhile and she became emotional. We discussed births. Uncle John phoned at 11:30pm from Bourn, near Cambridge, just for a chat. He had no idea of our great change in lifestyle or of our forthcoming baby and didn't receive the letter I posted in April or May. He asked for Mum and Dad's address and said he'd phone us again soon. He laughed at my tales of horror from the Why Not. We do have a very similar sense of humour. To bed. Ally has indigestion and the baby kicked furiously beneath her peppermint nightie.

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Monday December 19, 1983

 5, Club Street, Lidget Green, Bradford

Filthy, wet day. We went out and found Mandy metro taking in more water. Something is going to have to be done, or the floor will give way. We went off to find Hunslet and visited Michael and Beverley Pirie, Australians, at the Moorhouse Inn. We were very pleasantly surprised and Ally was especially delighted at the size of the private living accommodation. The tap room looked as though it needed watching, but the lounge was full of good, quiet people devouring lunch. The pub takes about £2,500 a week, and the Piries make about £80 per week from the catering. It seems a good place to start in. We left after 2 and went shopping in a wet, busy town. I bought Ally 'Diorissimo' perfume and things of a practical nature from Habitat, and went to Samuel's where we bought each other a watch. Police were on the streets clearing shoppers from Marks & Spencers where a bomb scare had brought the IRA threat to the Christmas scene. 

Moorhouse Inn.

The Prince and Princess of Wales have visited the Harrods bomb victims in hospital.  ___________. At 5:30 we went wet and hungry into Da Mario's on the Headrow where I had a panzerotto, and Ally a seafood pizza. Saw cousin Di outside at the bus stop. We talked about the Moorhouse and agreed to phone Les Gledhill and offer to give it a go. Sat by the TV tonight. Ally phoned Bessie. 

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