Wednesday March 7, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn

Ash Wednesday

Mum.

Panic stations at lunch when a jolly funeral party came in wailing and merrymaking and drinking like fish. I find such celebrations slightly nauseating. Mum and Dad came in at 11 and stood downstairs amidst the black-clad multitude. I found myself, on my day off, running around pulling pints and serving food to the mourners. At 2 I managed to join Ally, Mum and Dad for a sandwich. Mum had been helping Ally in the kitchen. This catering lark is all old hat to her. 

At three Ally and I went to Bradford to inspect the house and buy a pair of trousers and a cot costing £67 minus mattress. Back to the Moorhouse for 5:30. Dad was in the bar chatting to Maureen and I attempted to have a night off which didn't go quite to plan. My roast beef upstairs was interrupted by a drunken trio in the tap room - two men and a haughty, high and mighty, woman. They left peaceably after I refused them beer. After closing we sat in the bar for a couple of hours. _______. We told them of the split with Dave & Elaine Allinson, and for some reason Lynn wanted this news to be kept from Mum.

Takings: (B) £163.74, (L) £205.75).

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Tuesday March 6, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds 11

Shrove Tuesday

Lynn is twenty six. We phoned her at about 8:30 and all she could say was: "Oh, I can't get away from you, can I ?" _______. 

Shrove Tuesday, but no pancakes. A day of furious activity. I scrubbed the cellar for the dray which came at 8:30. L.Gledhill was here at 9 the the new (pre-set) till. I made cups of tea for everyone and he went up to the tray, inspected the Denbyware, and drank the lot. He picked up every cup and drank the lot as if he'd been lost in the Gobi desert since Christmas. We were fully operational by 11 and LG, thirst quenched, went off to the Cheshire Midland. What a pleasant change he is to F.O'B. How lucky we are.

Maureen took to the tills like a duck to water, but Audrey got into a fluster. It was a quiet night in the bars with Jane Tudor. We saw the Rev Terry Munro at 7. A bearded hush-puppy footed Guardian reader, if you ask me. He only allows baptisms on the third Sunday of the month, and at dawn. We are told that Samuel can only have two godfathers and one godmother. The church doesn't dictate that rule to the aristos, so why restrict us? May 20 is a plan.

Takings: (B) £114.72, (L) £120.04.

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Monday March 5, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds 11

Up at 6:44, or at least awake.Went down to clear the beer lines and left Ally with cooing Samuel. Blossom looked a little better this morning. Ally and Samuel look so good together and to see them grinning at each other. He is an Ally clone. I see none of me. Sue says he is a Dixon too, and most people agree with her.

___________. I have twenty gallons of cloudy beer to get rid of. It is temperamental stuff. I 'll just turn off the lights in one of the bars and hope nobody notices. The taste is unaffected.

Edward Du Cann and his bleating back benchers are criticising Mrs T's handling of this nation, They are saying she dominates too much and perhaps should take on a deputy. What about Visc. Whitelaw? In my opinion a PM cannot be too strong. Good God. The place would be far worse off in the hands of a weakling wet. Sock it to 'em, Maggie. That's what I say. Benn, elected MP for Chesterfield last week, says the powers of HM The Queen should be entirely stripped. What a pig. He really should be assassinated.

Ally went to the clinic at 2:30 to have Samuel weighed. He is 10lb 2oz. Growing so rapidly and out-growing his 'Moses' basket. He will require a cot this week.

Phoned Mum this evening. She gave us a phone number for Filey so we can ring Lynn tomorrow - her 26th birthday. Mum and Dad are coming on Wednesday for a night at the Moorhouse. We will make them dinner because Mum misses the evening frolics at Club Street.

Worked with Joan 8-11. Useless. I'll cut her hours as soon as Samuel sleeps through.

Takings: (B) £151.50, (L) £97.83

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Sunday March 4, 1984

 Quinquagesima

Moorhouse Inn, Leeds 11

Ally looked awful all day and was near to collapse. Last night was her first bash at alcohol in almost a year. Whilst I was downstairs 12-2 she created a luncheon - roast beef, &c.We ate and then climbed into bed until after 6. Slept soundly. Samuel later had hysterics and the inside of his nappy looked like an early Picasso. This evening Jane (Tudor) turned up. She is a friend of Alan Oliver, the YP graphic person, who married the singer Ronnie Hilton's daughter in June '81, but who is now divorced. Not a busy night like last Sunday. We collpased back into bed at 12 but Samuel bawled for a couple of hours and wouldn't let us sleep. He joined us in bed.

Lynn and David are going to a flat in Filey this week during their birthday celebrations. Why Filey? All I remember about that God forsaken place was the dog excretia. _____________.

What has become of Mama? Mum and Dad haven't been in touch since they came here a month ago and we only saw them briefly on Monday at Sue's 'do' for Christopher. __________. I really must phone.

Takings: (B) £133.87, (L) £174.45

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Saturday March 3, 1984

Our pine bed: Longleat

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds 11

Ally cleaned the car and Samuel slept in his pram outside. Bessie phoned to talk about Lanzarote. Frank saw (Uncle) John in the Bank of Bilbao. He was signing a cheque, but F didn't like to say anything.

Our pine bed arrived. Our bedroom is now transformed into Longleat. Very grand. Downstairs for lunchtime. Audrey and Margaret were working. Michael and Harold Brown came. Harold is such an old (undecipherable). He spoke of days in the 1920s when he and his brother Arthur would get up on a Saturday and tell their mother they were going out for a mornings drive and then off they would go to Lincolnshire until the following Thursday and then return home to find the Yorkshire puddings still in the oven. Michael told us he had been out for a pint with a certain bishop last week who told him that the Runcies lead separate lives. Mrs Runcie never sleeps at Lambeth Palace.

John, Janette, Sue and Peter came at 7 and John erected the splendid bed. They came downstairs afterwards and watched me work. Ally was down too, and Samuel slept without any trouble.

News: Maria has sold the Corner House Cottage and is moving to Ridgeway (Guiseley) and looking for a house in Otley. It pleases me that my Rhodes niece and nephew will not be Scots. Sue and Pete have sold West End Terrace but the house they desire on Moorland Crescent hasn't gone through yet and so they probably won't take up residence there until the baby comes on May 26. A jolly night after closing. All on liqueurs. A Bols evening, in fact. Peter was very drunk. Upstairs for fish and chips and fond farewells at 2:30am. Quite knackered.

Takings: (B) £184.76, (L) £206.23

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Sunshine and Springtime. I am writing this through the leaves of a large spider plant which sits in the middle of the table. It's like keeping a diary in the jungle. 

Friday March 2, 1984

 New Moon

Moorhouse Inn, Leeds 11

Blustery and early snow. After closing this afternoon Ally and I pushed Samuel over (Hunslet) Moor in his pram and walked along to the shops to buy pork chops and pay our enormous newspaper bill. Bought a 'Private Eye' which says naughty things about the Macmillan peerage. Coming back at 4:30 we called in at the so-called vicarage to see the Rev Terry Munro. He is a pipe cleaner with a beard. He asked us to attend St Peter's on Tuesday evening to discuss the baptism. 

Heath: Earl of Broadstairs?

Had a busy night working with Margaret, a Scot. Ally came down wearing blue and white stripes to lend us a helping hand for the last hour. People made cracks about her stripes and looking like a prop forward.

Will Edward Heath be Earl of Broadstairs or will the PM insult him with a viscountcy? Jim Callaghan will take a life peerage like Uncle Harold Wilson. He doesn't have the cheek to become a hereditary peer and sit on the Labour benches. Sir Keith Joseph will surely become a viscount and so will the bungling Sir Geoffrey Howe, QC, MP, who will succeed Quentin (Hogg) as Lord High Chancellor.

Takings: (B) £236.06, (L) £182.27

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Thursday March 1, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn

St David's Day

I posted a cheque for £99 to MM and Marita for the mattress. I wrote to Dave G, Dave L and Great Auntie Anne, &c. Dad would call it 'doing a bit of clerical'. March is upon us. I am feeling my age these days. People who shouldn't do are starting to look young. Acne covered police constables and fresh-faced juvenile bishops. It was a 7 o'clock start today. The stock taker was here at 8:15. After an hour he announced that we have a £32 surplus. Such a relief. _________. It must have been _______with his fingers in the till. He did act odd and suspicious and he was buying cocktails for his lady friend on Tuesday at £1.45 a throw.

Samuel is a little bruiser. He has grown since we put him to bed last night. Ally has dressed him all in white and he looks so beautiful. What proud parents we are. L. Gledhill phoned at 10. The new tills come on Tuesday. He was pleased about the stock.

Can I speculate about the name of the expected royal baby? Prince George of Wales sounds good, but then I expected George in '82. We haven't had a James since the onset of the Hanoverian succession - other than James Ogilvy. John brings to mind the epileptic prince who died in seclusion in 1919, but of course Earl Spencer is John. Too many Edwards. Perhaps Prince Philip? As for girls they can be more adventurous. Victoria, Charlotte, Caroline, Louise/Louisa, Alexandra, Elizabeth?

Takings: (B) £192.68, (L) £175.32.

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Wednesday February 29, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds 11

Leap Year Day. Poor people like James Ogilvy, Moraji Desai, and Colonel the Hon John Bingham celebrate birthdays today. 

Lazy. Eventually I got out of bed at 8 and changed Samuel who was horribly wet and plastered. His eyes are as big as saucers and give me such long looks. A postcard comes from Frank and Bessie in Lanzarote. I do hope they are enjoying the barren wilderness of that place. Some people could become depressed by the volcanic desolation. 

Club Street.

I went down at 1:15 to put out a 51 year-old bum who stood at the bar with an alarm clock and ordered three pints of bitter and proceeded to drop tablets into each glass. As I escorted him out he whimpered that his father is dead and that his mother is Welsh. I responded that it is better to be dead than Welsh. So very cruel. I then sliced off a chunk of my left thumb whilst trying to defrost a beefburger. Sod it. At 2 we crept out and went to Bradford shopping. Trousers and baby necessities. It was refreshing walking around town with the pram. On to Club Street and sat with Mary Moore who told us that Charles Eyden was buried on Thursday. He would have been 85 in September. Poor Norman continues to wander around the street in his open pyjamas. Back at 8:30. A night of peaceful domesticity.

Takings: (Bar) £123.66, (L) £110.02

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Tuesday February 28, 1984

 7 o'clock start. Down to the cellar to splash around and prepare for the dray delivery. At breakfast my boiled egg was bad and Ally immediately offered me hers. 'Greater Love Hath No Woman' &c. The phone trilled. It was Jane, our new recruit, who says she has a 'bug' and  cannot work tonight, but will be back on Sunday. Oh dear. I do hope she isn't going to be 'one of those'. The dray came at 10 and they went away leaving me short of two bottles of spirits. I was annoyed with myself for allowing this to happen and it will play havoc with the stocktake on Thursday. 

Ally went off shopping and I entertained Samuel. He is a tremedous little character. His eyes followed me around the room. So sturdy too. I am proud and thankful. I will phone the vicar soon to arrange a christening. He's the Rev Terry Munro. Ally says Terry is an unlikely name for a man of the cloth. The snob in me says Terry is more suited to the likes of a bricklayer. 

Harold: another war.

Dear 'Supermac' graces page one of the Daily Telegraph arriving at the House of Lords yesterday for a dress rehearsal for his introduction to the upper house. The last such 'do' for a newly ennobled earl was that following Lord Snowdon's elevation in 1961 - when Harold was PM. I can never remember whether the last earldom to be created was Snowdon or Avon.

Chicken and Yorkshire puds at 4. Watched on by Samuel in his chair. What a pampered pet he is. He whimperes to be picked up and lays placidly in my arms as I go from room to room. He loves bodily contact. 

Worked with Maureen (McNicol). It was dead. An old boy called Harold (born in 1911) told me that we need another war to put the country back on its feet. I hate that sort of talk. I went upstairs at 11 to find Ally and Samuel asleep. I did the tills. Vanham, my old maths teacher, would be proud of me. 

Takings: (B) £121.65, (L) £80.26.

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Monday February 27, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds 11

Mrs Thingy phoned from Cheap 'n Cheerful to say we can have an extra large four-poster bed for £210 as a special order and that it will be here at the weekend. Gill phoned to say they are coming here on Friday for the weekend. The takings will shoot up, won't they? 

The family at Christopher's party.

It is Christopher's second birthday. At 3:30 we went over to Guiseley with baby to Christopher's riotous birthday party at which Lynn, Frances, Katie, Pamela, Rebecca, Margaret, Mum, Dad, Emma (next door) and her mother were guests. All potted beef sandwiches, jellies and buns. Lynn took me on one side in the sitting room to say she is furious with L _____________. The family seemed odd and distracted. Mum and Lynn were particularly 'ratty'. Back to Leeds for 5:30. Dead. Ally came down for a few hours on and off. It is a start. L. Gledhill called in. He asked about 'Mister Oliver's' visit and said I had put the cat among the pigeons by telling him I had not been on Mike Walker's training course. I might have to go alone to Taddy. The news tills will be here on Thursday. 

Joan Parkinson-disease worked tonight. She's a mixed up, annoying wench. The tills are always down after she has worked. 

Takings: (B) £116.44, (L) £118.69

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Sunday February 26, 1984

 Sexagesima

Moorhouse Inn, Leeds 11

Another quiet Sunday. I was up at dawn and cleaning the beer lines. Ally came down to lend a hand whilst Samuel slept soundly. She is looking forward to getting 'stuck in' in the bar. The pub needs a woman's touch. _____. The Piries came back from Aberdeen and he came snooping in supposedly to give me a key. It's my view that ex-landlords ought to be banned from revisiting their old pubs.

Roast chicken for lunch. Watched TV afterwards. Caught the end of a Bing Crosby movie, but did some channel hopping. Susan Hayward was in a harrowing film on the other side and I cannot decide whether or not she died at the end. 

It was Jane Tudor's first night. She is an attractive girl and should be good at raking in some of the male population. She did very well for a first night. Quiet until 9:30 and then a deluge of people. Hilda, Tony, Jill and Tim came in and stayed until after 12. We gave them a guided tour of the cellars and we had a couple of pints in the dimly lit lounge. ________. Very late to bed because of our visitors. The novelty will soon wear off and we'll soon be forgotten and ignored by our siblings and cronies. I really must ring Dave G and Dave L. They do not know we are here.

Takings: (B) 116.20, (L) £173.48

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